2019 World 24 hour champs – Albi, France
It is such a huge honour to represent your country, especially doing something you love. Add to that, running is such a solo sport that you rarely get to be a part of a team. And what a great team to be a part of. Fiona, Dawn, Emma, Wayne and Graeme were all familiar faces from Taiwan last year while Kim joined us for the big dance and it was an absolute pleasure to meet her – and hear some wonderful stories of her endurance running feats. And it was another opportunity to catch up and run with my good mate from over the ditch Mr Stephen Redfern (he is now 5-2 in victories over me – I have some work to do)
So how did the race go for me? Well, it was a bit of a disaster. And, three days later, I am still totally gutted about it. That’s pretty much the race report in a nutshell, you can stop reading if you like.
…but if you want to know more…..
All the ducks in a row was the focus in the build up to this event. I had trained and focused so hard on it and felt everything was bang on – I and woke up feeling like ‘today is the day!!’ on Saturday morning – starting the race 100% ready.
However, it turns out, I haven’t actually figured out how to execute this style of event yet. I say ‘yet’ because even though the last thing I want to do now is do something like this again I know I need to at some point because it’s gonna bug the hell out of me until I nail one. I know I can and I’m learning more each time I fail. A lot of the problems from Albi were copies of problems from Taiwan last year – so there seems to be a pattern.
Start at 10am, was fairly near the back but was totally fine with that. Made sure my heart rate was mid 120’s for the first few hours. Easy running. Ankle gave me some pain after only hour which wasn’t welcome – physio and crew master Marcus Daws dug in there with a good deal of pressure and it really did the world of good. We might have to drag him to all our events from now on! Got through the marathon in about 3:50 and this was still cruise mode and happy. However, by hour five running suddenly got very hard as my chest started to tighten. Breathing was an effort. Once again Marcus worked on freeing up muscles in the chest and back. Back out but very uncomfortable. Stomach was getting steadily more painful as the heat of the afternoon wore on. By hour twelve everything was awful. Had to bless the crew tent with a huge vomit – which I hoped would help but I realised it was too late for whatever was causing the pain. Also, (apologies for too much information) my pee was steadily getting darker and after 13 or so hours it was very, very red and I was getting quite concerned. So, doctor time. There were others already on the beds with the same problem. While my vitals were all fine the basic advice from the doctor was ‘stop’. So I did. And the long walk around the track back to the crew tent was quite emotional with plenty of time to think about everything that had gone into this race.
However – sleep, as any ultra runner will attest, is an amazing thing. I drank about a litre of salty soup, ate half a loaf of bread and then went to sleep on the floor of the tent thinking that I would not be out there again. About an hour or so later I woke up and felt a little better. Started cheering on everyone still out there which is great to lift spirits. Pee stop – almost normal! Ok, wait a bit longer. Four and a half hours to go the FOMO was just too strong so I went back out and just walked – knowing that I shouldn’t take any risks. I walked for 3 1/2 hours and I gotta say, it’s not a lot of fun going at that pace – but it was awesome seeing just how incredibly strong some of the top elite runners were going – six people (including Camille with her new world record) going over 270kms is just insane! With one hour to go I felt almost like a normal human so I ran that just to make it feel like I had done something if only for that hour. 144kms total – I had added 29km by going out in the morning which, while insignificant in the grand scheme of things, made me feel a little bit more like the runner I’d like to have been that day.
So, what to take away? At first I had no idea and was frustrated. Then some advice came in which really seemed to ring true (and if anyone out there has something to add to this I am absolutely all ears). Basically it comes down to drinking too much water in the heat. I think that because it’s so hot (for me anyway) I need to compensate by drinking often. Eventually the stomach is forced to hold the water as it’s too much for the body to process while doing something as taxing as an ultra. Any nutrition coming in gets held up by the liquid in the stomach so the body ends up getting very little to operate on. Meanwhile, the kidneys are not getting enough liquid to do their job so you end up with the combo of stomach and kidney pain along with gnarly pee. Good times right? I’m sure someone who actually knows medicine can explain this better but that is my general understanding.
So, ‘next time’ (aargh!) I must have a more rigid nutrition/hydration plan and stick to it. This kinda happens automatically when you are carrying your own hydration in a mountain ultra which is why I’ve not had those problems in other races – just these loop circuits with water available all the time. My theory anyway.
So, in summary: brilliant event, amazing team and crew, wonderful experience and a terrible run. Maybe the next one will be a local one without all the pressure aye. Might help. Maybe….
And, of course, none of this mad running thing would have been possible without the incredible support of the super-crew wife Emma – who had to juggle the kids this time but still managed to be there when I needed it THANK YOU!!!
Cheers for reading, looking forward to figuring out how to do one of these properly one of these days aye – I’ll be back!
At around the 47km mark we jump on a boat and fly across the water – all done without any fuss (and a good opportunity to get a stone out of my shoe and eat something) – it’s over very quickly and we are heading down to Rerewhakaaitu aid station at 52kms. A quick korero with lovely wifey who is just so good with motivation and off we go up the backside of Mt Tarawera. This is a pretty decent climb and the three of us drift apart a little but out of nowhere comes a lady by the name of Hannah McRae who, while flying past us, humbling announces that she ‘has no idea what she is doing here’ – a reference to the fact that this is her first miler and she is leading the women’s field. Off she goes and it’s the last I’ll see of her for another 100 kilometres.
All of a sudden we went from having the place to ourselves to being right at the back of the pack behind over a thousand other runners – who, thanks to the consistent rain, had understandably chewed the course up into a pile of deep mud from the Falls all the way to Millar Road aid station – 40 kilometres of single track carnage. Times fly out the window and moral takes a big hit. Just staying on my feet becomes the single focus for long periods of time. It’s no-ones fault – but it sucks. Andy Palmer passes me in the middle of this section looking very strong.
Suddenly I can run everything – even the hills. We’ve rejoined the rest of the field and I’m passing a few 100k runners when I spot a familiar figure – Mr De Monchy with super pacer Rob Bathgate – sorry fellas but I’m on a mission to finish this as soon as possible! I also pass Hannah just before the final aid station who has put in an almighty effort and will finish second female behind Sally.
Campervan time! One of the many cool things about Northburn is you can camp right at the start line and this year, since we had all the kids for the first time, we went big with a camper. This was great – roll out of bed and be at the start line in 25 seconds! Highly recommend. I’ve already done a race report for Northburn and the course hasn’t changed so I’ll spare most of the details and just write about the differences. In 2016 I ran the first loop in 7:04 which was good. In 2017 I ran it in 6:15 – which was BAD – contributing to my eventual DNF around the 105km mark (along with some serious stomach issues). So the goal this year was to split the difference – and at 6:35 I did – but it was probably a little too fast in hindsight. On the second loop the ‘death climb’ out from camp felt really tough with the temperature rising. I was halfway up this climb when Emma sent a message saying that our girls had won the kids race for their age group. There’s a 2km loop that has a decent climb in it that kids can do as part of the weekend’s activities and it’s brilliant. The girls had a BLAST and it was one of the highlights of the whole trip.
At checkpoints I was told that third place, another top bloke by the name of Adam Keen, was too far ahead to chase down but at the finish it turned out only 7 minutes separated us – so close but I never saw him ahead so I didn’t know. Never mind! It was still a PB by 16 minutes (which really isn’t much in the grand scheme of things) but more importantly I had achieved the goal of back to back 100 mile races.
Easy listening hits waft across the PA, a polite countdown from race director Sean Greenhill, 5am, and we’re off!….. slowly…… There aren’t many races where every competitor is walking within the first fifty metres – clearly a sign that this was not going to be any ordinary event. We kick straight into the first climb to the highest point in the race – Mt Buller at 1,805 metres. Then super easy downhill for a few kms with everyone enjoying the fresh start and each others company. ‘Sweet’ I’m thinking, ‘we’re gonna SMASH that two hour estimate – Sean doesn’t know what he’s talking about!’
Lesson one: in Australia, never trust a log. No, not because it might be a snake, but because it is the slipperiest object known to mankind. It was carnage all around as one by one we all learned this valuable lesson. There was also no track. Well, not an obvious one. We just followed markers through the bush really. Very technical and you’d be mad to try and run. After about forty minutes I foolishly trusted a log, slipped and fell hard and managed to ram a cut off tree branch into the top of my foot. Serious pain ensued and I couldn’t bend my toes for around ten hours after that – seven days later as I type this it still isn’t great. Towards the base of the descent the track improved and I actually beat the two hour mark by eight minutes. Ha! See! Easy! Yeah right…
This is a big section but an enjoyable one. Very beautiful running beside the Howqua river. Then comes the main climb of 1,100 metres. It’s very steep and the first real taste of what the remainder of the trails will be like. Nearly all the tracks just go straight up the guts of the mountain – none of the criss cross traversing that we tend to prefer on our side of the ditch.
This is where things got really interesting. The ascent to Mt Howitt (54km) began harmlessly enough with a few meandering river crossings, then up we went through something that mostly resembled a trail – which was nice! Then came the ominous sound of distant rolling thunder. Not exactly what you want to hear when you are on your way up to an exposed 1,800 metre peak. Soon we could see the flashes as well, then it boomed right overhead along with heavy rain and hail. Fellow runner and all round good-guy-to-have-a-beer-with Simon Byrne and I hit the deck and threw our carbon fibre poles away – not great things to have on you in an electrical storm.
Absolute monster of a section. This took us 7 1/2 hours despite the fact that we were both in good shape. There was a 45 degree rock face to traverse and a cable ladder climb up out of a rock shaft towards the top of ‘The Viking’ (73km) – one of the best names for a mountain I’ve ever heard. A quick soak up of the view before yet another lightning storm started heading our way – here began a very very steep descent – especially tricky in the wet and wild weather – before we started making our way through the first section of the Barry Mountains.
This should have been fairly straight forward – a short leg and not too much climbing – but things are often not what they seem in ultras. The first moment came around the 100k mark where it became evident that I was moving at a quicker pace to Tom and a very reluctant parting of ways had to happen – I was really enjoying the company but had to accept that this was a race after all and why not try and go for it. So off into the dark and lonely night I went – for the first time solo – but it was not for long. 
An Aussie runner by the name of Dave Batho was wandering around just past the summit of Mt Selwyn (103km) and he was not a happy chap – I quickly discovered why – the trail markers were nowhere to be seen (they are reflective and can normally be spotted from a long way off). We split up and criss crossed our way blindly until finally a shout from Dave signalled that a marker had been found. But this was just the beginning of a very long and slow descent where we were constantly stopping and heading off in different directions to find the next marker tag. Really, this is not what you want to be doing at 2 o’clock in the morning. There a few rumours and theories as to why the navigation was so difficult in this section but I’ll leave that for another forum.
Quickly in and out of the aid station (no drop bag here) and I found myself in the company of Ross McPhee and Andy Turner – good blokes. Once again this section was much harder than it looked on paper (you can see a theme developing I’m sure – everything was harder than it looked on paper!). I knew there was this climb to something called ‘The Twins’ (121km) but the mountains before that were so tough I actually thought I’d already done it. How wrong I was.
Tarmac? For 6 kms? No chance to fly though, it is a steep uphill – very reminiscent of coast2Kosci actually – suddenly the monotony of the road made me feel tired for the first time. Luckily it didn’t last too long – we then hit a juicy 1.5 kilometres of descent in the space of around 8kms. Really tough on the legs and I couldn’t go as fast as I wanted too. 
Somewhere along here Christian Stockle flew past like a man possessed – he eventually finished a remarkable fourth place which goes to show that if you’ve managed to save a bit in the tank for the end you can really move up the placings.
Yes, the final section is 34 brutal kilometres long and there are no water drops. I had been freaking out about this section since the day the course notes were released – and it delivered. The long initial ascent wasn’t too bad – it was the twenty million little bitey ones that followed that started to break my spirit. Up until this point I had been in a good headspace overall. Now for the first time it was getting really hot. It’s early afternoon on the second day, nearly 30 degrees and humidity is through the roof. Just before the high point at 159kms I had my one and only pity party. I was freaking out about the heat and our lack of water and I just wanted to get this thing over with. I expected a little sympathy from Rod – ha! I got none. Instead he said (and this is a very loose quote because I was a bit loopy at this point) ‘we’ve only got 20 to go. Lets break it down into 5k sections – theres only four of those. You’re going well, you’re in the top ten and we’re damn well going to stay there. Now get moving!!’ 
It was just what I needed. Good on ya mate. Then two merciful things happened – we started going downhill again and it started raining hard – a big temperature drop and we were moving at double the speed. I was starting to mildly hallucinate by this point – seeing pot plants in the middle of the track – and every dead tree looked like a signpost – I kept looking forward to seeing what was written on them only to have my hopes dashed every time! Anyway…. huge descent again and all of a sudden we only had three kilometres to go – and it was all flat. We looked back down a long straight and there was no one behind us so we knew we could enjoy the last few minutes. We joined a single track alongside the river and it was great to still be sitting on 6 minute k’s. The rain had gone and all was well when suddenly the runner Stephen Rennick comes flying by. ‘Where did he come from!?’ Rod and I asked each other. 
He was gone in a flash and we had no chance of chasing him down – full credit to him – i would have done exactly the same thing if I saw a catch that close to the line.
4:15am – alarm – brain slowly wakes up – what are we doing today? OH THAT’S RIGHT – wide awake now. The crew is already up and prepping. You feel immediately unworthy of everything happening – everyone in this little cabin by the ocean is here for you. They were also up much later than you last night sorting everything else out while you did your best to sleep with such a monumental task ahead. Your selection in this race also means you are expected to finish – if not, then someone else who missed out on a place will be mightily disappointed in you. It’s also cost a lot to get here, and the logistics of leaving kids behind during school term with multiple babysitters was a monumental challenge unto itself. And you’re the only one representing Aotearoa here.
5:30am – Start – Twofold Bay, NSW – simple countdown on the high tide line and we are off. Weather is calm and cool. Running is easy and the head is clear. The inevitable lack of sleep leading up to race day is forgotten. Ultra maestro and all round good bloke Stephen Redfern ends up beside me and we run along chatting away for the first hour through beautiful rainforest that reminded me of the blue mountains. There’s a pretty big hill in the middle of this but it’s barely noticed such is the grand scheme of things to come.
7:51am – 24.5km – 02:21 elapsed – Towoomba School – the first opportunity to see the crew – they were in great spirits having had a fantastic breakfast courtesy of the local school (their biggest fundraiser of the year). Quick bottle change (drinking mainly tailwind for 2/3rds of the race) and few nuts and a muesli bar and off. First opportunity to get a feel for the roving machine – crew cars start going up the road as their runners clear out of this checkpoint. Suddenly there’s an energy coming from the extra traffic and support. It’s fairly unique (I imagine Badwater is similar to this) and it’s really cool. You get to know other runners crews really well as the hours tick by – and everyone is awesome.
11:20am – 57.0km – 05:50 elapsed – Bottom of big jack mountain – this is the start of the longest steep climb of the event – 6 1/2k’s at a decent gradient – it took me 70 minutes even though I was giving it a good push the whole way. Despite the time, I was quite surprised to reach the top when I did – I was expecting a bit more hurt – but there was plenty of that to come later so I should have been thankful. The top of big jack is the start of the higher plateau – and a lot of straight road running into a nasty headwind. It is surprisingly cold – it’s the middle of a sunny day in December in Australia and I’m wearing a jacket while running. Very unusual!
4:51pm – 102.5km – 11:21 elapsed – Big Dead Tree – this is the world-famous-at-C2K big dead tree. I am reliably informed it used to be much larger than it currently is, but being dead, bits have gradually fallen off. A significant milestone of 100k’s here. Very happy with time so far, I’m only 20 minutes or so away from the 30 hour split estimations. However, problems are now becoming evident. My left ankle is getting very sore at the top – like my laces are done up too tight but I have been checking them a few times and they are pretty loose. Currently a mystery that I would be unable to solve until it was too late. There is also a bit of pain developing behind my knees – both these problems are first time problems for me so I’m having trouble trying to work out what to do.
7:19pm – 119.4km – 13:49 elapsed – Top of the windmills – You can see these windmills for about four hours before you pass under them – but mentally it gets worse – once you reach the top you find the setting sun revealing a very, very distant mountain range on the horizon – the finish line is somewhere in there – and it looks impossibly far – just a faint outline over 100 kilometres away. What was I thinking? Look down. Don’t think. One foot in front of the other. Just focus on the next little bit. Technically this is halfway – but it’s not really!
9:45pm – 138km – 16:15 elapsed – on a hill somewhere – now there’s a new, very unexpected, problem. I am falling asleep. What!!? Already!!? This is not ‘I’m tired’ sleepy either – it is full blown staggering into the middle of the road while the asphalt makes Van Gogh liquid brush stokes in front of me. Shit. My other all-nighter race (northburn) I never felt sleepy for a second so this is a major surprise. I think the week of madness has caught up with me and it is putting its foot down. I tell Matt, who has joined me for pacing duties, that we have a problem. Up to this point I was holding a top ten position so it’s a gut wrenching decision (but, really, I had little choice) to jump in the back of the car and close my eyes. 20 minutes I tell the crew who show no sign of the disappointment they must be feeling. After 15 minutes I self woke. Again the brain slowly wakes up -‘where am I?’ then the loudest voice you could imagine in your head shouts ‘YOU’RE IN THE MIDDLE OF A RACE, GET UP AND GO NOW!!’ bang. out the door. Suddenly everything is clear again. I have lost valuable time and position but I am moving again and I am awake. A bit cold but I soon warm up and we make good time heading into the major checkpoint of Dalgety.
11:13pm – 147.4km – 17:43 elapsed – Dalgety – this is an actual town – with a pub! Which is now closed. But the town hall has opened its doors and put on a feast for the crews – runners are actively discouraged from entering but a few do. I was weighed here (identical weight to my registration weight – 68.8kgs – so no problems with hydration) and sent on my way with crew member – and Australian Army Sergeant Rod Foster – for what would be a very long night and morning of pacing duties. Pain behind the knees is getting worse and the ankle is also screaming. Ignore it. Move on.
1:10am – 161.3km – 19:40 elapsed – base of Beloka range – 100 miles! and a new PB by around 7 1/2 hours – although comparing the vertical in this race to northburn makes for an unequal comparison of time – nonetheless – I’ll take it! Very steep climb here – but relatively short – 3kms – I like these sorts of climbs as I can just keep plodding along fairly confident that nobody is going to come flying past me as running up here at this stage of the race is fairly unheard of. Nice gentle descent as we make our way towards Jindabyne. Despite running a reasonable amount of this, it takes forever to get there – lots of deceptive lights and roundabouts as we approach the town. I am, once again, falling asleep on the slower hill climbs. Dammit! A few ks out of Jindabyne and I’m back in the car sleeping – this time in the passenger seat and for only ten minutes. Once again I wake up without cue and am straight out the car – brain yelling at me once again GO!!
5:00am – 183.2km – 23:30 elapsed – Jindabyne – really in the hurt box now. Managed to run fairly well into the checkpoint along the lake but the leg problems are biting now. I stop here for some blister treatment – thank you Emma! (honestly, she was amazing every step of the way on this journey) nothing too major, blisters, thankfully, weren’t a problem throughout the race. The Altra shoes have a wide toe box and the only blisters I had were between the toes – so no complaints there. Change of socks here…. wait….. that feels much better on my ankle…. WHAT! REALLY!!!? are you telling me that the socks elastic was too tight around my ankles and that’s why I’ve been in pain for the last 15 hours? Yep, turns out that’s all it was. Tendon is buggered now though and a change of socks isn’t going to fix that sadly. Rookie errors really (before the race I thought they were the greatest socks ever….). I have taken a while getting sorted here and I make another rookie mistake – I got cold and didn’t notice. As we head off again – Rod still pacing – dawn is arriving. It is beautiful with the sun rising over Lake Jindabyne – but the air temp is hovering around 0 degrees C and I’m start to get hypothermia. Rod had a walkie talkie but the car is too far down the road. Fortunately another crew is going past and we flag them down to go and get our team. Jump in the passenger seat, turn up the heating and throw everything on. Takes a while to reach what I considered an arbitrary acceptable temperature and we’re out again. Rod had fallen asleep with his head on the steering wheel but as soon as I said let’s go he was out the door faster than a bullet. Army training eh.
12:30pm – 222km – 31:00 elapsed – Charlotte Pass – Before reaching Charlotte Pass three major things happened – 1. I just about stood on what we think was a brown snake curled up on the side of the road (sorry – didn’t get a photo!). I never saw it but Matt, who had given Rod a break on pacing duties, sure had and he grabbed my arm and pulled me away just in time. Was a really close call! 2. I had to sleep again – it appears that the ten minute power nap buys me about 7 hours awake time. Pretty good return on investment there really but still frustrating to have to had slept three times. Same story as the other two – self woke after ten and was off. This was the last sleep until the finish – as I said to the crew during some of the darker hours – all I cared about was a pillow – not the finish, not a celebratory beer, just sleep. I guess I really was far too tired going into the race but there you go. 3. I started to be able to run the downhills and the flats again. It was under immense pain but I was sick of walking – so slow! Weigh in again at Charlotte pass – 67.7kgs so only 1.1 kg loss – no problems. Matt now had the big job of getting me to the summit and back. The pacer also has the rough job of carrying all my mandatory gear as well as his own. Thanks mate!
2:30pm – 231km – 33:00 elapsed – Mt Kosciuszko summit 2228 meters – Unbelievable views up here. Picture perfect day and you could see in all directions for miles – the ranges to the west seem to go on forever. A quick, and very difficult, climb up onto the rocky trig for the mandatory photo then off back down. No chance of running anymore. My energy and fitness is willing but the ankle and back-of-knee pain is just beyond anything I can tolerate. I figure, what’s an extra hour of walking on such a nice day! (ok, I was probably less diplomatic than that but absence makes the heart grow fonder…)
4:17pm – 240km – 34:47 elapsed – Charlotte Pass and Finish line – 19th Place overall – it is a strange experience to be suddenly at the end of something this epic. It’s not your standard cross-the-tape experience high-five. Kind of a bewildered ‘is it really over? can i stop now?’ feeling. I find a chair in the shade and try to let it all sink in. More people finish and it is fantastic watching the celebrations from everyone. The sun is shining, I have a massive jacket on and sleeping bag around my legs yet I am shivering. Time to go. On the journey back down the mountain to Jindabyne we pass other runners making their way slowly up to Charlotte pass. They have many hours ahead of them – a lot in the darkness of the second night and I feel nothing but admiration for the guys and gals doing it really tough. I pass out and wake up at our digs – beautiful lakefront – enough time to have half a beer, eat a burger and finally close my eyes for a proper sleep. My feet are incredibly swollen and I have tennis ball lumps behind both knees. The overall pain is monstrous. As I type this one week later I am only just getting to the point where the swelling has gone down and I can walk without pain again – that’s a long recovery time even for a run as big as this one. Many things have been learned.
The aftermath