Bogong to Hotham

Some fellow runners at the summit of Mount Bogong
early in the 2005 Bogong to Hotham race.

The Bogong to Hotham trail race has a history dating back to 1984, and in relative terms, I am a newcomer, having run it for the first time in 2005.  However, as discussed in other posts, I have run numerous times on the Bogong High Plains and feel a special affinity for the race, especially now the Race Director is Andy Hewat, an ultrarunner and friend for whom I have great respect.  He stepped in to revive the iconic race when it was in some trouble a few years ago and it has prospered with him at the helm.

Mount Bogong (1986m) is the highest mountain in Victoria and Mount Hotham (1864m) lies at the opposite (southern) end of the Bogong High Plains making it an attractive challenge to run, or ski, between them.  An early skier, Charles Derrick, died of exposure in 1965 while trying to ski between the two when caught in a blizzard, adding to the legend of the course.

Most of the finishers of the 2005 Bogong to Hotham race.

There are several aspects of the race which I find hard to resist.  The first, as mentioned, is the history I have with the area, having hiked and run there since the early 1970s.  Many of the trails and mountains are evocative of past trips, runs and friends, dating from the times when we were young, fit and carefree.

The course is challenging in terms of both topography and meteorology.  You can get very tired very quickly on the precipitous climbs and endless tussocky plains, and the weather can be intimidating and debilitating.  However, the snow gum forests, alpine grasslands and the roaring Big River, have a remote wilderness feel to them, with brumbies plentiful and the views spectacular.

Nowadays, perhaps the most appealing aspect to me that it is a race for serious runners.  There is a cut-off point at Langfords Gap, 35km into the 64km race, of six hours.  This may seem easy, but it is not unless you are a good trail runner.  It has always been a challenge for me and I have just made it on two occasions and would have missed it on a third but for the race being cancelled because of diabolical weather.  No runners were allowed to proceed beyond Langford Gap and I was saved embarrassment.  There are other cut-offs, but this is the one that counts.

During the weather-shortened 2012
Bogong to Hotham race.

The run actually starts at the base of Mount Bogong, so it must initially be climbed along the almost completely runnable Staircase Spur before setting out for Hotham.  Being someone who fancies himself as a hill runner, I have usually gone out too hard and run as much of the climb as I can.  Thereafter comes a technical run along an exposed ridge before a steep descent through forest to the Big River Crossing which must be waded, sometimes necessarily hanging onto a wire cable for safety.  The steep switch-backing climb from Big River up Duane Spur to the treeline has often been my nemesis.  On several occasions I have reached the top too tired to pick up the pace along the relatively easy firetrail across the open High Plains and nearly missed the Langfords cut-off.

There is a different challenge after Langfords when you encounter a narrow tussocky trail for many kilometres, marked every forty metres by numbered snow poles.  It is barely a shoe-width wide and exhausting to try and land on the path with every step.  When you stray off, as you must, the risk of sprained ankles and strained muscles on the rough tussocks increases exponentially, exacerbating fatigue.  Compounding your misery can be the snow pole numbers, decreasing ever so slowly (No. 1 is near the Hotham summit), and reminding you of how far you still have to go.

During the weather-shortened 2912
Bogong to Hotham race.

There is a final helter skelter technical descent to cross the Cobungra River, this time on a footbridge, before a crushing ascent up Swindlers Spur, little of which I have ever run.  From the top of this climb, Mount Hotham seems tantalisingly close, but it's very deceptive and must be reached via a semi-circular route before a last climb to the summit cairn and the finish.  Usually it's very cold there and the joy of finishing is quickly replaced by the need to find warm clothing and shelter.

A final challenge can be the bus ride down the long switch-backed road from Mount Hotham during which the gastrointestinal fortitude of many runners, including myself, have been tested.

Today, I just ran a very easy 10km, recovering from yesterday's harder run and resting up for a trail run tomorrow.

Leon's Run

Yass Golf Club.

No running yesterday, just the drive back to Copa from the mountains with a stop for nine holes of golf at Yass on a beautiful day on a very pleasant course.  I knew I needed time to recover from Thursday's longish trail run and have found that an easy walk of five kilometres or so (even if punctuated by some terrible golf shots) is a good way to work out some of the stiffness.

It's confronting, in my sixties, to compare how long it takes to get over a long hard run these days compared to thirty years ago.  There was always fatigue and some stiffness the next day, but these days I'm practically immobile when I first get up, walking extra carefully and slowly downstairs and limping to avoid undue stress on damaged joints.  I sometimes wonder if it's a portent of life in my eighties, if I make it that far.

Glimpses of Gosford from atop Kincumba Mountain.

On the other hand, it's gratifying and often surprising to find how much improvement comes with just a day's rest or easy walking.  The thought of running yesterday had no appeal whatsoever, while today I was keen to see whether the improved strength I felt running up hills on Thursday was real or imaginary.  Although still moving gingerly after my 4:30am rising, I had confidence based on experience that once I started running I would loosen up and feel fresher.

Part of the level fire-trail atop
Kincumba Mountain.

Today's Terrigal Trotters run was the popular 14.7km "Leon's Run" from the beach to the top of Kincumba Mountain and return on a mix of road and fire-trail.  I think it's popularity stems not only from the sense of accomplishment in running to the top of the mountain (and the ensuing exhilarating descent), but also from the contrasts it offers en route - starting from the surf-lapped beach, often in the dark, and traversing sleepy suburbia to reach the forests of the mountain in the early light.  It's a serious climb, but then you get to enjoy three kilometres of  relatively level running to the turnaround point and back along the mountain crest during which you get to say hello to your clubmates travelling in the opposite direction.  If you're having a bad day, you get to see how far they are in front and who's catching you, and if you're having a good day, you get to impress those following and see who in front might be caught.

I had a good day today, considering the past four months, despite wondering a couple of times whether I could sense undue pressure in my chest during the harder parts of the ascent.  Each time, I backed off just a little so my breathing didn't become too laboured, but suspect it was just my imagination.  I definitely ran my best since the heart and lung ailments of Christmas, though there remains plenty of room for improvement.  The tank was empty for the last few kilometres.

Henry Angel

The Hume & Hovell Track.

Today's plan was to run another interesting section of the Hume & Hovell Track, this time about 18km return southwards from Henry Angel Trackhead (named after a member of the Hume & Hovell exploration party).  Both Sharon and I were quite tired after the previous two days of trail running, so we agreed to run outwards until we had had enough and then run back.

The Hume & Hovell Track.

The first part of the trail followed a creek downstream across farmland.  The foot trail was narrow and wet with dew, but the crisp sunny morning and the autumnal colours cloaking the trees bordering the creek, made it special.  The creek had been mined for gold 150 years ago, and there were lots of signposts pointing out where channels and a tunnel had been blasted out of the rocks to create races, and other mining-related artifacts.  This added another dimension to the lovely track.

At Big Hill Lookout.

After a few kilometres, we took a small detour to a lookout on Big Hill, where the Australian Alps could be seen in the distance, before returning to the trail and descending more steeply beside the cascading creek.  At 6km we crossed the Tumbarumba Creek on a shaking steel footbridge and then began a steady and often technical climb up the side of Mount Garland through Bogandyera Nature Reserve.  The trail was often precariously narrow as it made its way up the sides of steep ravines.  A trip and fall may not have been fatal, but it would be serious, and I took great care.

Crossing Tumbarumba Creek.

In all the climb was 330m over 3.5km and mostly runnable.  I was pleased that I felt fit enough to run steadily all the way up, even if it was not fast.  It was good to feel that my cardiovascular system was coping with the demands.  Eventually I reached a high point after 9.5km, and after a brief break, headed back down, chasing Sharon who had turned back earlier.  Actually, "following" might be a better word than "chasing", because it wasn't a trail for an old bloke with dicey joints to be racing down, but I enjoyed the long descent after the sweaty climb, taking in viewpoints here and there.

I was a little worried I might run out of steam on the climb back to the start point, given how technical the trail had been, but I finished strongly feeling that I am fitter than a couple of weeks ago.  Later we played nine holes of golf on a very rough and hilly country course and the fatigue started to kick in then, but it's been a great few days of running.

Blowering Damn

Crossing the Tumut River below
Blowering Dam.

After a 40km run yesterday, I would normally just go for a walk today.  But, since we are on vacation in a beautiful part of the world, I made an exception.

The plan was to run an easy 10-15km out-and-back along what I remembered to be a lovely section of the Hume & Hovell Track, following the contours high above the water of picturesque Blowering Dam surrounded by high forested mountains.  Unfortunately, little worked out as planned.

Setting out along the shores of
Blowering Dam.

Firstly, the road to the carpark beneath the dam wall, from where we hoped to start the run, was closed.  There was an alternative starting place on another road, but this meant parking two kilometres from the dam.  I was expecting to struggle, with a very sore right Achilles and knee along with general stiffness, so the thought of adding four kilometres to the run wasn't very appealing.

Dealing with bushfire deadfalls
along the trail.

The weather was again superb - cool, clear and sunny - which made my slow painful plod a little more bearable.  However, Sharon had recovered from yesterday's exertions better than me, and I was always trailing behind.  We reached the Dam wall and followed the hiking trail up the side to an overlook before connecting with the trail heading south high above the water line.

This was supposed to be the best part of the run, but unfortunately there had been a bushfire in the summer and it was totally different to my memory.  Apart from blackened trees and charred leaves and bushes, many trees had fallen across the trail causing us to make frequent stops to clamber around or through the charred trunks and branches.  It spoiled the run and we turned back earlier than planned.  Although I was very disappointed at the state of the trail, the shorter distance was probably to my advantage.  We will both be a bit fresher for tomorrow's planned run, and my chronic injuries should be less painful.

Paddy's River Dam

Paddy's River Dam.

Yesterday's exercise was just nine holes of golf at Tumut, about 5km of walking the way I play, after driving south from Copa for about six hours.  It was my plan to have a couple of days off running after hurting my hip on Saturday morning, and I was happy to find it didn't trouble me at all during the golf.

On the trail in Bago State Forest.

Today's exercise was much more ambitious.  Sharon and I are staying in Batlow (famous for its apples) for most of the week and plan to do some running each day.  Today's run was intended to be 31km loop incorporating a beautiful 15km section of the Hume & Hovell Track that I hiked a year ago, but it didn't quite work out that way.

Forestry Road in Bago State Forest.

Our start point was the serene Paddy's River Dam, a mirror smooth body of water reflecting alpine forest and clear skies, and I missed the first turn we had to make, adding 1.5km to our itinerary.  However, we were unconcerned as we tackled the correct single track trail which meandered through the snow gum forest and across grassy clearings on a cool, perfectly still, morning.  It was just a magic morning and we had it all to ourselves.

On the Hume & Hovell Track.

The run went to plan most of the way until we missed a trail, which was probably overgrown, and ended up following another firetrail which seemed to go on and on, much longer than expected.  Sharon began to doubt my navigation skills, but I was confident we were headed in the right direction, even if we were on the wrong trail.  Eventually we reached an intersection with the Hume & Hovell Track, further north than intended, and calculated we had about 10km to finish, making the total distance closer to 40km.

Although my cardiovascular system seemed to be coping fine, my back and joints had had enough, and it was a slow slog back to our car, made more tolerable by the continuing superb scenery and weather.

All in all it took us nearly six hours, but we stopped a few times and walked some of the hills in the last 10km.  Time wasn't a consideration as neither of us is as fit as we would like.  We just wanted a nice long run through some superb country and we got that.  As a bonus, Sharon disturbed a small group of brumbies (wild horses) at one point, and we saw kangaroos, an emu and an echidna while driving through the forest.

Kosciusko

Looking down the Thredbo River valley towards
the village.

As mentioned in yesterday's blog post, Sharon and I are heading for the mountains tomorrow and are hoping to enjoy a few trail runs.  They won't be at an altitude sufficient to impact running, but it will be less humid and cooler than the Central Coast of the past few months.  I find cooler temperatures always make running more enjoyable as does running in the mountains.

Looking towards Mount Kosciusko.

The mountains in Australia aren't that high, by global standards.  But, on the positive side, they tend to have runnable trails to their summits, providing scenic routes for inspiring running.  The ski resort of Thredbo, in Kosciusko National Park, offers a number of running options, of which my favourite is a 45km route that includes a visit to the summit of Mt Kosciusko (2,221m), Australia's highest mountain.

The steel mesh track to Mount Kosciusko.

The run starts in the Thredbo Village and follows the Thredbo River Track upstream, initially past the golf course and then through a mix of alpine forest and open clearings to a saddle, Dead Horse Gap.  A right turn takes you onto the Dead Horse Gap Trail, an occasionally technical single track which climbs above the treeline along a rocky spur.  If the weather is clear, there are beautiful views in multiple directions.  Near the top of the spur, the trail goes close to the Thredbo Chairlift Top Station and joins the main trail from there towards Kosciusko.  To preserve the alpine environment, nearly all of the next four kilometres is along an elevated steel walkway, with signs at either end prohibiting running.  If you start early enough, you will beat the first chairlift tourists of the day and have the place to yourself on this outward leg and be able to run without the risk of causing annoyance to hikers.  If later, however, you have to make a judgment about whether or not you will get into trouble.

The panorama from Mount Kosciusko.

Soon after the mesh pathway ends, about 14km into the run, the turn-off to the summit of Kosciusko is reached and it's worth making the 2km (there and back) detour to enjoy one of the best views in Australia.  Returning to the Main Range Track, which follows the alpine ridge to the north-east, more spectacular vistas stretch in all directions, and particularly over the precipitous descent towards the Geehi River to the north-west.  At around 23km, another right turn is made to descend steeply towards Blue Lake and Charlotte Pass, all above the tree-line.  There is a short steep climb from the Snowy River up to the Pass where the old road back towards Kosciusko is reached and followed gradually upwards back to the steel mesh pathway.

The Main Range Track.

Depending on the hiker traffic, it may be necessary to walk the pathway back to the Chairlift Top Station, but from there a steep and often technical descent, criss-crossing the ski runs, is made on single track back to Thredbo and the end of the run.  It's a long run, and much of it is at an altitude high enough to impact oxygen levels, but it provides some of the best scenery available in Australia on a clear day.

I took no chances with the minor hip trouble I had yesterday, and walked an easy 5km on a blustery and showery day around Copa this morning.  The hip didn't bother me at all, and I'm hopeful that after another day of walking tomorrow I will be up for a long trail run the day after.

Minor disappointment

Descending into Erina Valley along Worthing Road.

I'm far from fit, and suspected I would find the Terrigal Trotters run this morning hard.  The 11km course, Fragrant Gardens/Erina Valley, has some significant hills, as do most in this area.  I have felt lethargic and unfit most of this week, for no particular reason, so I ran 1.5km for a warm-up in the futile hope of generating some enthusiasm and form.

Despite the warm-up, I was still near the back of the pack as the 100 or so runners left the Terrigal Surf Club car park, and only started passing a few people when we hit the first significant hill a few kilometres later.  I felt like I was struggling, but still managed to pass a number of clubmates on the climb and picked up some momentum over the crest.  I tried not to think about how strongly I have run the Terrigal Drive hill in the last few years.  It has just the right gradient to permit fast running all the way to the top if you are in shape.

Hastings Road always presents
some challenges.

Just as I was anticipating reeling in a few more people as we descended into the Erina Valley, I rounded a corner and felt a sharp pain in my right hip and shooting pain in my right "glute".  After another 100 metres, with the pain persisting, I decided it was wise to stop and do some stretching to see if I could ease the pain.  It felt like a trapped nerve, but maybe not.

Of course, a number of friends catching me from behind while I stretched and walked expressed concern that I had a recurrence of my lung or heart problems.  I explained that, happily(?), it was just a run-of-the-mill running injury.  I resumed running, with less pain, after a couple of minutes and pretty much jogged the remainder of the course.

It doesn't feel like I have torn anything, but I will take it easy for a few days to let any inflammation settle down.  Sharon and I are spending most of next week in the foothills of the Snowy Mountains, and I have been looking forward to some nice long trail runs on parts of the Hume & Hovell Walking Track I hiked this time last year.

Organ Pipe Cactii

Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument.

Continuing my reprise of memorable places I ran during a year-long tour of the US and Canada in 1985-86, the Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument, bordering Mexico in Arizona is high on the list.

An organ pipe cactus.

Like many runners, one of the first things I do on reaching any destination is get hold of a map and work out whether there are any appealing places to run.  Sometimes, a trail or road loop jumps out as a very attractive option, and this was the case on the Organ Pipe Cactus NM park map.  I was planning a long run and there, on the map, beckoning, was the 21 Mile Ajo Mountain Loop Road.

Saguaro cactii in the Sonoran desert of the Organ
Pipe Cactus National Monument.

Unfortunately, the park campground was full and we had to stay further south in a commercial campground right on the border, literally, with Mexico.  The next morning we drove back to the park's Visitor Centre and I set out on the unpaved one-way road loop on a beautiful clear sunny day.  Although it was at the height of the season - early Spring in the Sonoran desert - and the campgrounds were full, many of the visitors were "snowbirds', refugees from the northern winter in huge recreation vehicles.  Such vehicles were prohibited from the tourist road loop, which was narrow and rough in parts, meaning that traffic was light.

Sonoran desert landscape in Organ Pipe Cactus
National Monument.

The route meandered through stereotypical desert country, dominated by the unique organ pipe and saguaro cactii, as it gradually climbed towards Mt Ajo (4,808').  After looping around the Diablo Mountains, past rocky canyons straight out of a Western movie, it descended slowly back towards the Visitor Centre, frequently offering grand vistas stretching all the way into Mexico.  I was quite fit at the time and the run was easy and very enjoyable.

In contrast, my run today was a slow 5km on stiff and sore legs around Copa.  It took the whole 5km to warm up enough to run smoothly.  Maybe it's age, or lack of fitness, or excess weight, it's hard to tell.  Although I'm running better than six weeks ago, I still have a long way to go.

Garbage Runs

Gradual downhill along the Scenic Highway.

In many of my blog posts I have spoken about the "garbage runs" that all runners have as a regular part of their routine.  These are the runs you do between your quality sessions, and are often done just so that you get some daily running in.  They burn calories and keep the cardiovascular system ticking over, but aren't run hard and rarely leave you exhausted.  In my case they are usually 10-12km and have been that way throughout my 45 year running career.  Of course, in my prime there were often two "garbage runs" on "recovery" days, and at least one on "quality" days.

Stretching out along Avoca Drive.

One of my favourite "garbage runs" of the last six or seven years has been the 11km loop I run after supervising the Thursday morning track sessions at The Haven.  This morning, I was pondering why it has become a favourite, especially since at least half is along busy roads.  I think there are several factors.  The first is that it starts up a couple of quite steep hills where, because I'm not warmed up, I don't feel any pressure to run hard.  Instead, I adopt a comfortable pace, running within myself and reach the top warmed up and in good shape.  In the last decade I have noticed that it takes a hill or two to warm me up for any run, so these early hills are well-placed.

The long grind up Tramway.

The course levels out at the top of the hill, the running becomes easier and my pace increases.  After a kilometre or so comes several kilometres of gradual downhill, and by this time, being well warmed up, I generally stretch out to less than 5 min/km pace along the rural road.  It's always satisfying to feel that you're running fast (relatively), even if aided by the gradient, and I reach the bottom of the hill at a good clip.

Starting the final descent back to The Haven.

Then comes two kilometres of mostly straight flat running beside Avoca Lagoon, and I usually find that I can maintain the speed built on the previous section if I concentrate on holding good form and not overdoing it.  At the end of those two kilometres I reach the beach and cross the closed mouth of the lagoon, giving myself permission to ease off the pace on the often soft sand.  After a flat grassy section bordering the northern side of the lagoon comes the climb up Tramway which is always a challenge.  It has steeper and easier sections, but is always climbing and it's a relief to reach the crest.

Almost back to The Haven.

From the crest comes a kilometre or so of mostly downhill running back to The Haven with expansive views north along the coast.  It's easy to pick up the pace again and finish strongly.  Perhaps the most enjoyable part of the run is the slow warm-down walk I take around the perimeter of The Haven reserve, watching the other exercisers, the cars heading off to work in the distance, and the ever-interesting wave-pounded coastline.

The run this morning took 56 minutes which continues the steady improvement in my times over this course since I resumed running seven weeks ago.  Still a long way short of my quickest (51 minutes) but nearing my average (55 minutes).  If I could just lose those extra three kilograms I think I would be there.

1982 Montreal International Marathon

Finishing the 1982 Montreal International
Marathon (46th, 2:29).

Just an easy 10km on some trails and the beach for training today.  After the comfortable 15km yesterday, I would have expected to feel better this morning, and was a little worried by how hard the early kilometres were.  In fact, I wondered whether there had been a recurrence of the heart problem, although I wasn't aware of any palpitations.  I did manage to run up one of my benchmark hills, and actually felt better after that, although my overall time for the regular Little Beach course was slow.  I'll be interested to see how I feel tomorrow morning.

Another occasion when my running didn't match my expectations was the 1982 Montreal International Marathon, although every other aspect of the event was exciting and memorable.  I wrote an article about it for the Kew Camberwell running club newsletter.
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1982 MONTREAL INTERNATIONAL MARATHON - David Byrnes

As a consequence of my 2:19 in last year's Big M Marathon, I was fortunate enough to be selected in the Australian team for the Montreal International Marathon to be held on 30 May 1982.  As this was my first Australian singlet, I was, of course, very pleased and determined to do well.  However, my chronic achilles tendon injury caused me to avoid racing for the six weeks before the race and this lack of speed-work, in combination with some medication I was taking for the injury resulted in one of my poorest performances ever - 46th place in 2:29.  It was particularly disappointing because, despite the injury, my training form was very good and I knew I was in better shape than when I ran 2:22 in the Boston Marathon some six weeks earlier.

Looking over Montreal from Mount Royal.

My performance clouded what was otherwise an enjoyable and unique experience.  The Australian team, consisting of John Stanley, Graeme Kennedy, Garry Hand and myself, arrived in Montreal six days before the event and were met by representatives of the organisers.  Of the total budget of $1.5 million for the event, $300,000 was spent on airfares to bring some one hundred athletes to the event and all were to be accorded the same star, or 'elite' status which we enjoyed.  Our hotel, the Sheraton, had only been open for six weeks and our $130 a day rooms on the 20th floor left nothing to be desired.  The race administration had taken over the whole 7th floor and provided, for the 'elite', a 'hospitality' room which contained a bottomless fridge (always full of beer, coke, yoghurt and other goodies), magazines, coffee and so on.  Another 'entertainment' room was stocked with video and other games for our amusement and a third 'dining' room had breakfast and dinner available for us all at no cost.  In addition the Province of Quebec provided six or seven hostesses and hosts to look after us.  Amongst other things, they organised sightseeing tours by bus and boat, trips to the baseball and soccer (both in the 1976 Olympic Stadium), to the races, to a rock concert and so on.  Since only two teams (the Australian men and French women's) plus a few other individuals were in Montreal for the first few days, we received almost individual attention from the organisers.  In addition, we had VIP seats and everything laid on at all these events since they were sponsored by Molson's Brewery which was also sponsoring the Marathon.

Jacques Cartier Bridge, Montreal.

Early during our stay, Serge Arsenault, the race director, called our team to a private meeting and after explaining the race details, informed us of our $30 a day living allowance and went on to list the prizes available for the race.  First place would earn $10,000 down to tenth place $500 with performance bonuses of $750 for each minute under 2:15 as well as $5,000 for the first team, $3,000 for second and $1,000 for third.  He then asked how we wanted prize money paid should we be lucky enough -in cash, by cheque, or to our national association.  In the event, the Australian team came second behind Italy in the teams race and John Stanley, our nominated manager, collected three crisp $1,000 notes (which were later deliveved to the AAU).

There is practically no dividing line between professional and amateur athletes in North America now and Benji Durden (USA), who won the race in 2:13, openly admitted that he won $35,000 in cash last year in the U.S.

Montreal Olympic Stadium.

Montreal is a predominantly French-speaking city of some 3 million people on an island in the St Lawrence River.  The dominant feature of the city is the tree-covered Mount Royal (MontReal in French) which provided good training territory only a kilometre from our hotel.  For our entire stay the weather was warm and humid which made training a sweaty affair but was otherwise very pleasant for looking around.  The day of the race was no exception and a 6:30 am news bulletin informed us that it was 20°C and rising.  During the race it was sunny and very humid with temperatures recorded at 30°C along the course.  However, it was not the temperature which affected me.  I started badly, running 16:30 for the first 5km, 17:30 for the second and 18:00 almost exactly for each 5km thereafter.  Of course by 10km I was already almost three minutes down on the leaders and spent the rest of the race wishing I was home in bed but not daring to pull out.

Because of my slow start, I don't think anyone passed me after about 10km and as the heat took its toll, my place improved rapidly - 90th at half-way, 46th at the finish - however this was no consolation at all.  My team-mates performed well with the exception of Gary Henry (who joined the team from the U.S. where he had been studying) and the results were as follows:
     16.  Graeme Kennedy - 2:19
     20.  Gary Hand - 2:20
     24.  John Stanley – 2:21
     41.  Gary Henry – 2:28
     46.  Dave Byrnes – 2:29.

The main reason we came second in the teams race was the casualty rate in the other national teams, many of whom had insufficient finishers to count.

The race, similar to our Big M Marathon, was a mass participation event. However, to make the organisation manageable only the first 12,000 entries were accepted!  The race started on the giant Jacques Cartier Bridge across the St Lawrence Seaway and ran through the suburbs out around the 1976 Olympic Village and Stadium before returning to pass through the central city area.  It then proceeded out on to two islands in the Seaway, circling the Canadian Grand Prix circuit, and passing through the World Expo site to the finish.  Unfortunately there was little crowd support over the last 10 kilometres (where it was most needed) in contrast to the first 30 where the route was lined with people.  Although, it must be said, that unless you were recognised as a 'Quebecois' (from the province of Quebec), runner the support was somewhat muted.

The evening of the race there was a dinner and disco for the elite athletes and organisers which was enjoyed by all and then after a day to rest up, we returned to Australia - a 48 hour trip.

Building confidence

One of the smaller hills (Scenic Highway) on this
morning's run.

After a quiet training day yesterday, I decided I should run a bit further today and was pleased to find that I didn't feel too bad once I started running.  I wore my Hoka shoes for the fourth day in a row, and am wondering whether the extra cushioning is making a difference to the fatigue in my joints and thereby hastening recovery.  They also seem to be better for my chronic right Achilles injury, but as has been the case since I got them, they don't help my chronic right knee injury which is more painful.  I guess I need to strike a balance and alternates between my Hokas and my Nikes to make sure neither injury worsens to the point of being unable to run.

It is illustrative of my state of mind that I'm now focussing on musculoskeletal issues instead of my heart rate, and that's a positive sign, I suppose.  I haven't worn my heart monitor for a few weeks, so thought that today's run - 15km on road with a few significant hills - would be a good time to see how it's managing.  It's a course I have run quite quickly in the past, and the hills are hard enough to make my heart work harder.

My heart rate chart from this morning's run.

After the first couple of kilometres, including the dreaded one kilometre climb out of Copa, I was warmed up and settled into a steady maintainable pace, without testing my limits.  It was warm and humid, but I negotiated the remaining hills comfortably and managed 4:45 mins/km pace without pushing it for the last few kilometres along the flat Scenic Highway.  Although hot and sweaty by the time I finished, I didn't feel very fatigued and was satisfied with my time, given the effort applied.

On checking the heart monitor readout after the run, I found that my heart rate never exceeded 160bpm and averaged 143bpm for the run, which is very acceptable.  The question now is whether I should risk working a little harder to see how well it sustains a higher rate.  My guess is that it will be just fine, but there's no reason to rush anything.  For the moment, I'll keep my mileage around 80 km/wk and build confidence as time goes by, I lose a few kilograms, and my running fitness grows.

Jeckyll Island

Jeckyll Island sunset.

The first time I ran the loop around the northern part of Jekyll Island in Georgia I was on a touring holiday of the US in 1985 and never dreamed I would end up vacationing there a number of times in years to come.

Jeckyll Island bike path.

Jekyll Island is one Georgia's barrier islands and is connected to the mainland by a long causeway.  It has a colourful history, starting with the American Indians and followed by European colonisation in 1510 by the Spanish and subsequently the French and British.  There were slave plantations on the island from the 1700s and it was the site of intermittent fighting between the Spanish and British.  There are still rumours of pirate treasure buried somewhere on the Island.  Between 1888 and 1942 it was owned by the Jekyll Island Club, a group of wealthy families who holidayed there each winter and built a lavish club and some mansion-sized cottages which remain today.

Spanish moss hangs from the trees in the historical
mansion district of Jeckyll Island.

With such a varied history, along with beautiful coastal and marsh scenery, it was a lovely place to run during the Spring Break vacations we had there in the 1990s.  It was also extremely flat, which allowed for fast running when fresh and fit.  My favourite 9 mile loop headed north along the coastal road from one of the holiday houses we rented to the campground where a bike path started and was followed down the mainland side of the island overlooking the marshes and passing some of the old mansions with ancient trees cloaked with the eerie Spanish moss.  It was a magic place to run as the sun set over the marshes in the evenings.  The run finished by following a laneway and bike path across the island and back northwards to the house.  Just writing about it makes me want to go back there for another lap this evening.

Instead, however, I just walked 5km today as a gentle loosener for the tired muscles and sore right knee and Achilles from yesterday's long run.

Returning to the scene

Crossing Mangrove Creek early in
today's run.

Perhaps irrationally, I was a little anxious about today's long run because it involved returning, for the first time, to the place where I think my serious health problems - Deep Vein Thrombosis (DVT), Pulmonary Embolism (PE), Atrial Flutter (AFl) - began sixteen weeks ago.  I was running the 25km version of the Dubbo Gully loop today, not the 30km version of that day, but the weather promised to be humid again.

Dubbo Gully.

The first thing I did was make sure that I was well-hydrated before the run and that I had another sports drink waiting for me when I finished.  My best theory is, that back in December, I completed the run dehydrated and didn't drink much afterwards before having a post-run nap.  Vein damage from my chronic right knee injury, exacerbated by dehydration and low blood pressure, caused clotting (DVT) some of which ultimately found its way to my lungs causing a PE.  The lungs lost function and placed excessive pressure on my heart, generating debilitating AFl over the subsequent week.  You've heard it all before, if you are a reader of this blog.

Dubbo Gully wetlands.

Anyway, despite taking the extra precautions, I remained somewhat anxious.  The run, with Sharon and some friends, started slowly down a very long descent, and I hung back, still a little stiff and sore from yesterday's run and not wanting to strain.  I never pushed the pace, but after warming up, gradually drew away from the others on the long climbs later on the run.  Despite sweating a lot and working hard, so far as I could tell, my heart continued to beat regularly.  Both knees hurt, particularly down hills, and I cursed the extra three to four kilograms I'm carrying - so easy to put it on and so hard to get it off.  I feel sure, that without the extra weight, I would be running faster with less knee pain.  Hopefully time will tell.

Almost finished.

The course finished with a steady 3km climb, which is always tough, but pleasingly I managed to run the whole way.  My time of 2:43 was slow compared to the 2:58 run in December for the 30km version, but not that bad.  I drank and kept moving after the run and don't feel like I have damaged myself in any way.  It gives me increased confidence that the bad times are behind me and I'm looking forward to my next Dubbo Gully run.

Missteps

Terrigal Trotters gather before a Saturday morning run.

This morning, with the sun not rising until after 7:00am and heavy cloud cover, it was very dark for the 6:00am Terrigal Trotters' "Avoca Steps" run.  The Club Committee, of which I am a member, has been encouraging runners to wear light coloured clothing and carry lights or wear headlamps for safety reasons.  The lights were definitely needed today.

I missed the start by three or four minutes because I was packing up the registration books, and by the time I started running, I might as well have been running solo.  Even with my headlight, which is lightweight but not particularly light, the pitch darkness as I climbed the steep dark Kurrawyba lane nearly brought me undone.  Negotiating some posts, I stood on a pavement edge and nearly went down.  Life number one!

Descending Tramway, a few runners were visible in the far distance under the street lighting, but the bulk of my 100+ club-mates were still way ahead.  I was very conscious of not pushing too hard early since I hadn't had time to warm up and remain worried about unduly stressing my heart, so I focused on running evenly and efficiently, sure I would start to catch people within the next few kilometres.  There is no lighting at all on the grass reserve beneath the trees bordering Avoca Lagoon, but I held my pace, relying on memory as much as my headlight.  Nearing the sandy border of the lagoon, I caught my friend, Wayne, who tried to warn me about a hole he had just tripped on, but was too late.  I felt my toes plant on the edge of a small but deep hole in the darkness and my heel stretch down into the nothingness, while my knee hyper-extended backwards stretching ligaments to breaking point.  It hurt momentarily, and I limped for a few steps, but I escaped serious injury.  Life number two!

The last hill on this morning's Trotters run was the climb
to the Skillion Lookout.

With a sense of good fortune, I continued around the lagoon edge and reached Avoca Drive, a long straight stretch with street-lighting where I picked up the pace and began to reel in some of the stragglers.  I was feeling tired, but maintaining form and regular breathing, when I reached the base of the Avoca Steps.  Again the headlamp proved its worth, delivering just enough light for me to pick out the steps as I tried to keep running.  In a couple of places, my path was hindered by runners who had become walkers, and I called for space to pass as I approached.  This didn't work for the last group near the top of the steps and I tried to go around them on the darkened border of the path.  I misjudged and stumbled to the ground in the gloom, but was again fortunate not to injure more than my pride.  Life number three.

Thereafter, I stayed upright, and although very tired over the last kilometres and struggling up the hills, I continued to catch runners and finished in a reasonable time.  I was happy with the run, and particularly happy that my heartbeat remained regular, despite the challenging hills.  However, I know I was lucky none of my little missteps in the dark resulted in torn muscles or ligaments.  On another day, I might have been looking at three weeks off with a soft-tissue injury or worse.  Part of the problem was that I was taking chances in the darkness to try and catch the field.  But for me, taking some calculated risks and accepting challenges are what life is about.  Sometimes you are lucky, and sometimes you're not.  It's the same with the risk of my heart problems recurring.  I could wrap myself in cotton wool, but that would be no life.