Wow. Geoffs Runs - how good are they?!

The End

I stood there, hands on overly bent knees – overly bent so as to stop my hand sliding down my sweaty mucky legs, not because I didn’t want to get my hands dirty but because I’d probably fall on my face if I did. I stared down at the little bag of sand in the middle of the ‘track’. Bag no. 36. I had stopped … dead … exactly where I’d dropped it. I was knackered.

After a minute or so, I looked back down the track to the runner behind me, who I believe was Steele Beveridge, and stood to shake his hand. This guy wasn’t running well from the start and after the first three hours was reduced to a painful walk that he maintained for the next nine hours with no fuss or drama. I didn’t have a lot to complain about really. We shook hands and gave each other a pat on the back. Given his endeavours I felt almost guilty accepting his congratulations. We wandered around the corner some 200 metres to the start/finish.


The 15th Caboolture Historical Village Dusk ‘til Dawn

I was looking forward to this event. Having lap scored for scored for two runners last year, it was in my schedule from then on. I’d taken part in the three hour race in August (itself a small part of the 24/48 hour event) and had a good run and found the surface very comfortable to run on. Despite not having had any really big mileage in the last few months, I’d trained consistently (albeit for pace as much as anything) and had two 50km events (Kurrawa 50km and Hares & Hounds - four weeks prior and eight weeks prior respectively) in the bank. I’d stocked up on everything that I knew worked for me with one or two additions. I had a reliable lap recorder in Andrew Townshend (who doubled as unscheduled crewman when it counted – thanks again Andrew) and was pretty relaxed. Though I knew it wasn’t going to be a walk in the park, I fully expected that with some hard work and a good strategy, I’d get the result I was after:

100km – a must (barring injury)
110km – if all went well I should be able to get close
120km – la, la land!

I’d looked over last years splits and there was one constant. Of the top ten finishers, there were only two who did less than 21 laps in the first hour (and they were walkers). The remainder, with the exception of the 1st and 2nd placegetters, all experienced some pretty dire rough spells at some point having sustained this sort of pace for the first few hours. With this in mind, I figured I’d limit myself to 20 laps an hour which should see me at 60km in the first six hours without too much trouble and maybe get a km or two ahead. Obviously the pace would have to allow for toilet stops if required and drinks and, this was probably most important, some walking. So, I figured 5:45min/km would do me good. As it goes, the plan lasted about 200 metres!

The Beginning

Start – 20km
We took off at the sound of the cowbell and the usual suspects went ahead. Before the first bend, I found myself just behind Susannah Harvey-Jamieson. Not a bad place to be as far as pace was concerned so I tailed her for about the first kilometre before we got talking. She told me that she was intending to run a sub ten hour 100km and just hang in there for the last two hours. I now know that this event has been sanctioned as a 100km qualifier for the world 100km championships in June which may have been on Sussanah’s mind.

I said this would suit me early on depending on how we went. After only a few laps it was obvious that we were two fast for what I wanted and each time we passed the scorers I was getting ever more stern looks from Andrew who was recording my lap times. I signalled that yes, I was conscious of it and was going to slow down. At the 5km split I was five over five minutes ahead of my schedule!

I eased up gradually over the next few km and from there I was pretty consistent and stuck to the plan until the 20km mark.


20km – 30km
During the third 10km, Stacey and Rhys turned up. They actually came through the gate at the top end of the village just as I rounded the corner and Rhys immediately ran to me and continued to run some 200 metres to the ‘Hotel’ before having to head back to the start finish line (he’d gone out too quickly!). Stacey would be there then. As I came around the next lap, both were at the start/finish line chatting to Andrew and the rest of the scorers and Rhys wanted to come with me. It was sort of disruptive as I had to keep an eye on him with a lot of other runners around but it was probably good for me to ease up. Most of all it was great that he wanted to run around with me given the propensity for a lot of kids these days to want to sit around getting tubby! On the way around, Nic Moloney passed and warned me about running with a pacer and that it wasn’t allowed. I made my plea and he agreed to let me off this time!

Rhys stayed with his mum for a while, cheering me when I went past – until he sourced a donut from somewhere – and watching all the other runners go by. After a while it was time for them to go, but not before Rhys joined me on another lap before they went, which he stuck to admirably (during which Ms. Harvey-Jamieson made a remark in relation to having a ‘pacer’ but she seemed satisfied when I told her that Moloney had already reported me!). We said our goodbyes and as I rounded past the gate on the next lap, they were on their way through when Rhys ran back to tell me how famous I was! To see my son look at me in the way he did (and to get the subsequent messages from Stacey saying how proud she was) made every step prior and subsequent worth it.

30km – 45km
I’d been indecisive about shoes before the start. There are plenty of reasons that are far too involved but suffice to say that my original decision had outworn its usefulness and I changed shoes and socks at this point before continuing at the same pace. Also, I’d been pretty steady with fuelling thus far, alternating 3-500ml of water or Powerade every thirty minutes and taking a GU or maybe ½ a banana on the occasions I was taking the water and it was working well.

I carried on comfortably until the four hour mark and inclusive of the approximate kilometre I had made up in the first half an hour(!) I found myself a convenient 2km ahead – a sub four hour marathon.

It was becoming quite a social event by now. The relays were in full swing, the six hour guys were hitting the hard yards and those of us running twelve hours had a good idea of where we were and how we felt in relation to our competitors. There were already signs that one or two of the front runners were backing off a bit, Kelvin Marshall was beginning to have back problems and I think maybe both Nic Moloney and Michael Lovric were under par at this point. Susannah and Jon Pearson looked pretty solid. I was feeling pretty pleased with myself too.

I also had Keith Sullivan’s support. I first met Keith at the Kurrawa race in December, only two months ago, having run more or less together for the last 10 km and then having to race the bugger over the last couple of kilometre’s to lead him in by thirty seconds! Each time I went past he commented on my pace being good and how well I was going. There was the usual banter and encouragement (and piss taking!) among most on the circuit but for some reason Keith’s meant a bit more on this occasion and it was to continue throughout the race.

Another ½ hour and another four or five km and something was amiss. I was starting to have heartburn/indigestion maybe, I’m not sure what it was but there was a reaction even when I took on plain water. At my celebratory 4 hour mark I ate some heavily salted mashed potatoes that I thought would be good fuel but in hindsight seemed to cause the upset. I couldn’t run too much without making it worse and it was pretty worrying to thing that I was this far out with something like this flaring up, especially considering I’d never had this sort of problem before, ever.

No matter, I had a buffer and I’d aim to maintain it to the 50km mark. As it turned out I wasn’t able to, reaching 50km a little over three minutes ahead of schedule but as it turned out I was pleased when I got there.

45km – 65km
I decided to walk/jog until my troubles were over and simply sip water. If that was how it was to go on then so be it. I had covered 45km.

During this stretch I was pretty down. Andrew was hugely supportive as were the rest of the scorers and their support; Ann, Dianne Schott and the rest as well, of course, as the other runners on the track. At the same time I was pretty frustrated as I hadn’t worked out what was causing the problem and I wasn’t feeling particularly tired in any way. Either way, I maintained my walk/jog strategy, jogging from the top of the hill around to the bottom and then walking up to start again. It got me through the next two hourly changes of direction, past the 50km mark and onto 58km as we passed the six hour mark. Not too bad I thought. I was thankful of the 2km I’d made up earlier as 58km seemed a lot better than 56km would have.

I carried on with this until I got to 60km and my insides finally told me that it had finished with whatever it had been trying to deal with for the best part of two hours and I took a toilet break. Almost immediately I felt better and I carried on for another 5km in the same fashion until I felt I had got it together. I had, but the ordeal had taken its toll. I’d managed to get through it but had eaten nothing for the last 20km relying on just water and some Powerade. On top of this, I had some pretty severe chafing that had only come into play once I’d ‘disturbed’ my clothing during the toilet stop. At 65km I felt I was ready to get on with it. I didn’t realise how severe the chafing was until I started to run and I was in agony – as if someone had been at me with a cheese grater! – I hobbled off while Andrew looked for the jar of Striderm I had in my bag (it does work Tamyka, but you have to remember to apply it!). The product is very good as a preventative and to ease any existing problem. It never completely cured me from then on but it was better than bearable for most of remainder.

Throughout this period, Andrew didn’t miss a trick. He was across everything. He could tell my condition and would leave me if he thought I was ok but at the slightest sign of neediness he immediately got out of his seat and was at our camp as I arrived to help out with anything I needed. It’s a benefit having a runner as your scorer or crew (as he has been in other events) but having a good mate carries more weight than anything. As ever, I can’t thank him enough and probably never do.

65km – 100km
Before my ill fated attempt to resume running on the previous lap, Andrew had worked out some splits and figured out what I needed to do to make sure of the 100km. By now, seven hours had come and gone and I was on 65km. I needed to maintain fourteen laps an hour over the last five to finish just on 100km and 200 laps. I thought, fine, but I wasn’t comfortable. I hadn’t much fuel in me and I was going to have to work on catching up what energy I’d lost as well as maintaining enough to actually finish this thing. I took off having got plenty of carbs. with plenty of hydration. I figured that I could continue run/walking at fourteen laps an hour, but there was no guarantee that whatever I’d suffered wasn’t going to return. I decided to run six laps to one lap walking. With that ratio, the running laps would more than compensate for the ‘resting’ lap. This would give me a ten minute buffer per hour and would leave me a little to spare at the end. Also, the complete lap of walking each time would be a real rest. And so it went. From then on, I may not have looked it but I was quite strong as the mental processes took control.

After two sets of six laps with a seventh walking, I then did two sets of ten laps then reverted to six again. I seemed to be passing people more often than they were passing me, with the exception of Susannah, Michael and Jon and on one occasion during a set of ten, I remember passing Nic during a walk and hearing him start running just behind me. He stayed with me for a couple of laps and thanked me for ‘the drag’. He obviously wasn’t himself and I believe Mallani (Mrs. Moloney) wasn’t well after her event so he must have had other things on his mind but it still felt pretty good. I pulled off for water and fuel after ten feeling pretty strong.

A few niggles came and grew stronger toward the end of each set but the walk break seemed to be enough to keep them at bay (my right knee in particular when going anti-clockwise around the bottom of the course).

Throughout this stretch, it was obvious there was much going on with the other runners. Michael seemed to be out of his slump, if indeed it was a slump, though he still seemed out of sorts to me as for a relatively short while I was passing him more often than he was passing me (it didn’t last long!). The way he powered on toward the end belied this and really showed the strength of the man.

Occasional bi-directional words of encouragement from Jon, Susannah and the evergreen Roger Guard were uplifting and Billy Pearce with his earrings kept a smile on my face. Kelvin was something else though.

Kelvin had a variety of stock responses it seemed. He was walking mostly because of his sciatica and whenever I passed him with a “Good on ya’ Kel” or on one occasion “I don’t know how the hell you’re still going under the circumstances” I was greeted with one of:

1 “Yeah, you’re going well Alun”
2 “Urrrggghh ... bloody back ... laps ... sciatica ... Caboolture”
3 “Thanks, keep it up”
4 “F***ing round and round .... “

And on the one occasion (of two) that I was with him during my walking laps:

5 “Yeah, it’s this bleedin’ sciatica. It seems to be okay for a few laps if it’s massaged but then I just have to walk and the walking is pretty ordinary. I’m just hoping that it’s ok for Maroondah Dam next week!”

There were many other anecdotal comments from ‘our Kel’, but I may keep them in my own memory banks.

At about 3:00 am (from vague memory), our race director took to the track for an early hours training run. He probably did a very quick 5km – anything looked quick by then – and I’m convinced he did it to show off and grind us further into the dust (I only wish I had a recording of his heartfelt ‘humanitarian’ comments over the tannoy!)

It seemed that not much time had passed from 1:00 am but thanks to the distraction, interaction and general feeling of camaraderie (we were all in this together), before I knew it, I was having the laps counted to me: “6 … 4 … 3 … 2”. During this time I had another meeting with Keith.

“How are you doing”, I asked
“Pretty good”, he said, “I have about 13km to go for the hundred”.

I mentioned that I had only a couple of laps and to keep at it though I doubted he had time for 13km. I now know he must have meant 13 laps as he got his 100km (101 in fact)!

I walked the 199th wanting to run through the start/finish on the 100km mark (daft I know, but it’s the lad in me!). During this lap, Michael passed me and encouraged me to run it in and that I’d feel so much better for it. To run from there hadn’t entered my mind. On the track/course, there’s none of us can really know the detail of each others highs and lows and at that time I was happy to know that I was going to knock out the 100km with room to breathe. Given the stretch I had in the middle I was ecstatic, but there’s no time to explain that to a mate as they run past you.

I passed the finish line and ran a decent lap to get around for the hundred. I immediately sought out Andrew to shake his hand but he was standing out in the track with a camera ... what the hell ... I ran to him anyway and offered my hand before I realised the obvious in that he was set to take a photograph of me crossing for a 100km. I nearly ran him down but the comical memory is worth a thousand pictures.

100km – to the start
From this point it was a pleasure to be out there. I wanted it to end but there was a bit to do and while it was good to see the clock ticking down it was nice, in a masochistic sort of way. Ordinarily forty minutes would have given me a comfortable 8km, but these weren’t ordinary circumstances. Resting on my laurels, I took up the run/walk strategy again, walking the ‘hill’ and running/jogging the remainder. During this time I had moments with other competitors. Congratulations to each other and plain admiration for some - Steele Beveridge step up.

With about nine minutes to go, I felt I should run all the way so I picked it up and got on with it. At the start of my penultimate lap, Tamyka Bell was there with sand bags asking each runner if they wanted one as they went past. I indicated I would be fine as I intended to stop after this lap as I knew I wouldn’t make two. As I ran around I started to feel that after all this, I shouldn’t sell myself short and that whatever I got at the end was part of the whole experience. I came toward the finish line with about two minutes to go

“I’ll have a bag ... “
“What?”
“Gimme a bag ... I’ll have one!”

So Tamyka handed me bag no. 36 and I duly ran around the course one last time at the breakneck speed of probably 10km/hour, finally stopping about 120 metres short of the finish. And there it begins.

Epilogue (I loved ‘Streets of San Francisco’)
As hugely satisfied as I am with this event, more because of the way I managed myself during and following my bad spell than anything else, my thoughts were that though I was pleased with myself, the Caboolture track wouldn’t see me for a twelve hour event again. Round and around just isn’t my thing. I might add that this was by far the toughest event I've ever done, tougher than the Glasshouse 100 miler and it gives me an indication of what I really can do in events such as that.

Two days later, I’ve determined what I need to do in several areas to get close to 120km next year and I’ll be there barring injury.

It may seem that this is an elaborate report but I do this for every event I enter. Some are for my own reflection, some for select friends and some to share all around. I like this one so everyone gets to see it!

The hard core ultra guys who knock these things out at the rate of one a month or more have a different perspective maybe, I don’t know, but for me, they are testament to the level to which I can train given the time I have and present a huge amount of satisfaction to me.

I take with me the memory of Blair Venn getting his 50km and of Tamyka Bell getting six hours in for her first competitive event on this scale following serious injury. Then there was Kel and Steele Beverage just getting on with it and finishing (Steele in particular). Above all there were Sussanah Harvey-Jamieson, Jon Pearson and Roger Guard doing what they seem to do all the time. These were all highlights that I was privileged to be an observer to.

Not withstanding the obvious emotion surrounding the passing of Andrew Ludwig, it is clear how much this event means to Geoff and Betty Williams and all those involved in its organisation. As a resident of Caboolture, I can testify that with some obvious exceptions (Ron Grant, Ian Javes and the minority running community), the people of Caboolture, Morayfield and the surrounding area are largely unaware that the Historical Village even exists and much less this race meet, busy as they are with their McDonalds and Movies.

Thankfully the running community all over Australia and to a lesser extent internationally have a greater level of consciousness and as a result the event is embraced by its extended family.

Long may it continue.