A couple of months ago, I got a call from my mate, Stu, asking me if I wanted to do the Port to Port MTB Race. When I’d bought my MTB in advance of the move to Brisbane, I’d looked around for some events and this had grabbed my eye, but I’d put it down for next year as I hadn’t been riding much. However, Gareth had suggested it to Stu, who suggested it to me, so with two mates keen it was an easy decision to do it this year, despite the lack of training.

Last week saw me fly down to Newcastle to meet up with the guys for my first MTB event. I was underprepared, but the rough outline was that Stu was the fittest but with the least MTB experience, Gareth had the most MTB experience, having ridden the Scott 24hr many years ago, but possibly the least endurance, and I was somewhere in between. We had four stages to ride, with varying amounts of single track, and we had to maintain 10-12km/h average pace. On my local singeltrack I was getting 13km/h, but that was at a pace that I couldn’t sustain for four hours, so there was some apprehension about how thing would pan out.

Day 1

This looked like the easiest stage on paper. 48km of minimal single track, so the pace should be fine. One large climb near the start, then a rolling out-and-back course before the descent to the finish. Oh how wrong we were! The climb was on a steep, rocky 4WD road, so the pace was super slow. As expected, Stu was quickest up the climb, being able to stop to answer work emails while waiting for us! Once we had the main climb out of the way, we were faced with more rollers with a bias towards climbing, a brief bit of singletrack before a technical descent just after half way. The climb back out was ridiculously steep, with most people walking significant parts of it. Not what I was hoping for and I was getting annoyed. We finally made the top and looked forward to some descending back to the start, but things rapidly went wrong as Stu crashed hard as his front wheel washed out on a descent.

That was race over for him, with a 4WD ambulance coming to take him off the mountain. Eventual diagnosis was a broken shoulder blade and a few scrapes. Thankfully nothing more serious. Myself and Gareth continued on after the ambulance had left, but the downhills weren’t as plentiful as we’d hoped, there were a few more hard uphills requiring more walking and we eventually crossed the finish a man down and completely wrecked. Between Stu’s crash and the stage being way harder than anticipated, we weren’t off to a great start.

Day 2

Lots of singletrack on the second stage, so we were really looking forward to it. Stu had checked himself out of hospital and got an Uber to the start to have a pre-race coffee with us. We were so slow yesterday we’d been added to the final group to start, which didn’t really bother us as we had extra time to get organised in the morning. We’d had a 45min wait after Stu’s crash the day before, which the organisers had subtracted from our overall finish time, but we hadn’t asked them to change our start group. As it turned out, this meant we’d be riding the singletrack with all the slow and inexperienced people, so it took a while to get through the traffic and to be able to ride without interruption. This was definitely the highlight of the event, with almost the full 46km being singletrack, starting with the Killingworth trails and finishing off on the Holmesville network. Another four hours in the saddle, but chalk and cheese compared to yesterday.

Day 3

The longest stage of the race, coming in at 58km, with another huge climb to face. After about 8km of farm tracks we got to the Awaba trail network for some more fantastic singletrack. Fun trails which are really well looked after put smiles on faces and got everyone in a good mood to tackle the 5km climb immediately afterwards. I was slightly quicker than Gareth, so I’d ride a kilometre, stop and wait for him and repeat. Although the claimed gradient was 8%, it felt steeper than that and it was a long slog to the water station at the top. After a quick refuel we took off on the rollers across the top, with 17km to go before the second water station and the long descent to the finish. It quickly became apparent that Gareth was struggling, with his stomach staging a revolt, so we had no choice but to slow down to a sustainable pace. We made the second water station only to be told we were too slow and would be diverted to a shorter finish, so the fun downhill section got replaced with a fairly normal road ride back to the start. Not much we could do about it - part of the challenge of these events is being able to eat and exercise at the same time and sometimes your stomach just gives up.

Day 4

The final day, the shortest at 40km and also a point-to-point stage meaning we’d have to do some car shuffling. Stu waved us off in the morning as he was heading back to Sydney, and Gareth’s partner, Kirsten, got roped in to meet us at the finish. This was another day of mainly singletrack with some nice trails around Whitebridge to start off and the well-known Glenrock trails to finish. Whitebridge was enjoyable, but again, we were constantly getting held up behind riders who were forced to stop at anything technical. Glenrock was OK. I suspect we were sent down some of the easier trails as the organisers figured everyone would be exhausted and prone to mistakes after four hard days. Once off the trails it was a quick road downhill and across the finish line at Dixon Park Beach to a well-deserved burger and beer!

Summary

Overall a really enjoyable event and well run. Trails were very well signposted, so it was always clear where you should be going. I’d definitely do more training before doing another one as you definitely work harder on the MTB than you do on the road. I was pretty shattered but he end of it, despite being able to ride at my own pace all the time. Looking forward to the next one!

I was pretty tired after the last 10 days of climbing, and Alpe d’Huez had been bloody hard work on Wednesday, so I was worried that maybe I’d overdone things in the run up to the big day. I did nothing on Thursday and then on Friday I went for a 40min cruise along the valley floor followed by a dip in the local swimming pool featuring some spectacular views from the water. Friday evening was spent giving the bike the once over, fitting my transponder and race number and making sure I had all my gels/powders packed and ready to go for the morning.

The alarm went at 5.30 and it was followed by a quick shower, down to breakfast and an attempt to force-feed myself in preparation for a big day. Pre-race nerves (in a good way) usually mean that I have bugger all appetite in the morning, but I knew it was important that I load up for the day ahead as I’d never be able to eat enough along the route to keep up with energy demands. Once that chore was complete I threw the bike in the back of the car and drove down to the main road. There was no way I would be able to ride the 10km climb back to the guest house at the end of the day!!

With 7,000 participants or so, start times are staggered with the first group off at 7, the second at 7.30 and the final group at 8. Out of the guys in the house, Dan & Simon were in the first group, Giles the second and myself and the Irish lads were in the final group. Hugh and Joe were aiming to crack eight hours which was way too fast for me, but Conor and Cormac had been climbing at my pace up Col du Glandon so we’d probably end up together. We joined the back of the 8am start queue and slowly shuffled forwards, crossing the start line at 8:11 with 174km ahead of us.

I’d worked out split goals based on the recon rides I’d done and had taped them to my bike’s stem. The descent off the Glandon was time neutralised as it’s considered too dangerous with so many riders still bunched together early in the event. Bearing this in mind, I’d structured things to aim for a finish time of 11hrs, which, when the descent was subtracted, should mean I’d attain the silver medal goal time of 10h20 for my age group. That was all ahead of me as I left Bourg, hitching on to a line of Dutch guys flying towards Allemond. I may have been taking it easy, but I figured I might as well take a tow if one was being offered. After the quick zig-zag up the Barrage there were a couple of flat kilometres and then we were into the first climb of the day, Col du Glandon (profile). I could see Conor and Cormac a bit below me as they hadn’t jumped a Dutch train, but I figured they’d catch me on the climb so I kept going at a nice comfortable pace, keeping the legs spinning over and using the power meter to pace myself. Having ridden the climb a days ago was a big help, as I knew where the tough bits were and could adjust accordingly. Also, it wasn’t raining like it had been on Monday which was a big help, as was the fact that there were so many other cyclists around. As a result I made it to the top with 2h20 on the clock, almost 25 minutes ahead of schedule and I’d been riding easier than on Monday.

Wary of going out too hard, I opted to take my time at the food station on top. The French know how to do race food and there were baguettes, salami, brie, fruit (fresh & dried) and jellies on offer. I spent 10 minutes eating a bit of everything and refilling water bottles before hitting the descent. Although it was neutralised I pushed it a little bit, simply because it was fun and there weren’t many people around me so it wasn’t crowded and I could choose my line. It was still a bit sobering to come across an ambulance blocking the road where an unknown rider had obviously come a cropper, and we had to carry our bikes through a field to get by. Once the descent was over I faced a 20km run to the base of the next climb at St. Michel de Maurienne. It’s a false flat, very slightly uphill, so the recommendation had been to get into a group and get a tow rather than slogging it out on your own. A few hard efforts saw a few of us latch on to a peloton in front and I just tagged along for the ride from then on. I’d been on the road for more than three hours at this stage and was feeling good, though the combined might of the Telegraphe & Galibier was on the horizon so it was a case of drinking regularly and saving the legs as much as possible.

As we arrived in St. Michel de Maurienne I stopped for a water bottle refill and checked my times. Bang on four hours meant I was still 30 minutes ahead of schedule, despite dawdling at the top of Glandon so I was pretty happy starting the Col du Télégraphe (profile). Again, the recon rides were invaluable as I knew this was a fairly easy climb with a predicable gradient so I settled down to a comfortable rhythm, kept sipping away at my drinks and kept on keeping on. I still prefer to ride a while, stop for a quick stretch and repeat, rather than riding non-stop, so I was slowly passing the same people over and over again. Nevertheless I was still feeling good and climbed the Télégraphe in 1:08, the same time I’d taken on my recon ride. It had taken me 3h50m to climb the combined Télégraphe/Galibier on Tuesday, including a 20m stop at the top of the Télégraphe and a 30m coffee stop at Plan Lachat, so I’d allowed myself 3h30m for the combined climb during the Marmotte, resolving that I wouldn’t be having any lazy stops en route.

After a coke and a stretch I headed off on the short downhill to Valloire, followed by the short climb to the second refuelling stop of the day. I was still facing 15km to the top of the Galibier (profile), so this was another leisurely stop, making sure I ate enough, though time got away from me a bit and I ended up arsing around for ten minutes, slightly longer than planned. The next target was the coffee shop at Plan Lachat which was reached after 40mins of solid climbing, at which point I sat on my arse for another 9 minutes, psyching myself up for the tough final 8km to the top. I was starting to get a little tired by this stage. Nothing serious, but I was looking forward to the summit as I knew there was more than an hour of descending after that before tackling the Alpe. I was also a bit apprehensive about the super steep section from the tunnel to the summit - it was tough enough on the recon ride without starting it with 100km+ and nearly 4000m already in my legs! There was amply opportunity for it to play on my mind as I approached it at a glacial pace, but, once there it wasn’t as bad as expected. In fact, it seemed easier than on the recon ride, probably because I’d been building it up too much over the previous half an hour. The summit loomed and I was greeted by an unexpected food stop. My bike computer read 7h30, so I was still half an hour ahead of schedule, giving me ample time if it all went to shit on the Alpe.

More food, this time with second helpings as I had over an hour to digest on the descent back to Bourg. The first part of the descent is steep and a bit narrow until you get to Col du Lauteret, after which it’s main road all the way back to Bourg. The roads weren’t’ closed to traffic, but all the cars were well aware that bikes (lots of them) were around and we pretty much were given priority. Frence drivers are generally awesome around bikes and don’t mind waiting behind you until it’s safe to pass, but with me hitting speeds up to 70km/h I didn’t have to worry about holding cars up. I did have to hold myself back a bit though, as I found myself powering out of turns and figured I’d be better off saving my legs for the final climb up Alpe d’Huez (profile).

I reached the final food stop at the base of the Alpe in 8:51, almost 40 minutes ahead of schedule and was still feeling reasonably good. I had a quick stop for a handful of jellies, refilled my water bottles and got going. No time to dawdle with the Alpe ahead of me as I knew that there was no respite from here to the finish line. The first two kilometres are over 10%, then it settles down to average around 8% for the rest of the climb, so if things went bad and the day caught up with me, I could lose serious time struggling to the finish. From doing the recon ride I knew where the water stops were and knew roughly the sections where the gradient would ease for a few hundred metres, so I had a few targets in mind. First of those was to get the 10%+ section out of the way at the start. I’d climbed it at just under 290W on Wednesday, which was a bit too hard so I deliberately stayed well under that. I’d built some leeway into my schedule precisely so I’d have time up my sleeve for the Alpe, so it made sense to use some of it and the steeps felt a lot easier.

There are 21 hairpins on the way to the top, numbered in descending order, each signposted with the names of previous winners of Tour de France ascents of the Alpe and the water fountain outside the church at turn 16 signified that goal No.1 was complete; the 10% gradients were over and done with and I could now just settle into my normal climbing rhythm and hope it would get me to the finish. I was still stopping every 2km or so for a quick stretch, and mainly passing people rather than being passed which is always a good feeling. By the time I made it to the second church at bend 7 (Goal No.2) I was starting to feel the days exertions. I wasn’t so much tired as just over cycling. My arse was sore from so long in the saddle, my shoulders were stiff & tight and my knee and hamstrings were starting to stiffen up as well. Apart from all that, my legs still felt OK whilst actually cycling, so there was no fear of stopping, but my quick stretch stops were no longer having an effect and I was just willing the finish nearer so I could get off the bloody bike! Still, it was just mind games and minor niggles rather than exhaustion, so I kept plodding away until I finally crested the hump into the village where all the earlier finishers were sitting around, enjoying a beer and offering encouragement to those of us yet to do so. The village marks the end of the serious climbing, though there’s still a kilometre or so until the Marmotte finish, which feels flat, even though it’s between at 3 and 5%! Time to shift into bigger gears, get the speed up again, zip up the jersey and I crossed the finish line in 10:21:31, riding no-hands with a big smile on my face for the finish line photo, only later to discover that the bloody camera was quite a bit after the finish and it captured a more accurate portrayal of how I was feeling at the time :-)

That was it! I’d made it and was filled with a mixture of satisfaction at the accomplishment and relief that I could finally get off the bloody bike! After dropping back my timing chip I got a printed certificate with my official, adjusted time of 9:36:59, which was well inside the silver goal time for my age group, so I got to swap the €10 timing chip deposit for a nice silver medal. I also bought myself a souvenir bike jersey now that I’d finished, as I’m always reluctant to do so before completing an event, as there’s no point having a jersey or t-shirt for a event you didn’t complete. So, as the French say… FIN.

Stats:
10:21:31 total ride time
174.26km distance
4845m climbed
6062 calories burnt
69.9km/h top speed

Suffering across the finish line...

Last Friday week was my second visit out to RAW Track racing at Dunc Gray Velodrome in Bankstown. I opted to race Novice again as it had been a month since my first visit, so I figured I should refresh my learning of the ropes before stepping up to Div. 5.

There were 8 of us novices this time around, making for a different experience from the first time when it was just myself and Kylee. As before, the races were all handicapped to even out the differences in standards.

I had some good results, finishing 4th twice before winning the final race (see photo). I went off 4th rider with another 4 chasing behind me for an 8-lap race. I caught the guys in front of me after 4 laps, but the guys chasing me still had a bit of work to do. I knew that the guy immediately behind me was a similar standard to me, perhaps slightly faster, so, instead of going around the guys I’d caught I opted to sit-in, make the other guy work to catch us and then hope to out-sprint him at the finish.

As Hannibal says in the A-Team, I love it when a plan comes together! The Sydney Uni rider caught us with about a lap and a half to go and chose to sit on for a bit. I bided my time, periodically checking over my shoulder, until, with half a lap to go I went for it, sprinting as hard as I could around Royds in front of me into the final bend and hoping it was enough to get the win. As it turned out, it was! The Sydney Uni guy congratulated me afterwards, confirming that he had been lining me up but that I had accelerated too quickly for him and he couldn’t close the gap. Always good to hear :)

This Friday sees me move up to Div. 5 sporting a new 14-tooth cog at the rear for a bit of extra top speed. Should be fun.

Last night I headed out to Dunc Gray Velodrome, built for the Sydney Olympics, to try racong on the velodrome for the first time. I have to admit that I was a bit nervous for a number of reasons;

• I’d never ridden a track bike before, and since they have no brakes slowing down could be a problem if there’s a crash or something
• they also have a fixed hub, so you can’t freewheel and if you stop pedalling, well the pedals keep going around taking your legs with them and you get bumped out of the saddle
• the corners at each end of the lap are banked at 45° (see photo!) so I wasn’t sure how to ride them properly, or how fast you need to go so you don’t slide off!

I arrived with about half an hour of the warm-up to go, registered, paid and showed my Cycling Australia race licence, picked up my race number and signed on in the Novice category. I figured I’d just get on the bike and get out there. In all my years on a bike, whether commuting, road riding or MTBing, I’ve only crashed once, and that was while doing jumps on the MTB, so I figured I should be OK.

After a couple of laps around the skirt (the flat bit just on the inside of the track proper) I bit the bullet and went up on to the boards, accelerating hard to carry a bit of speed into the first turn. It was a little nerve-wracking at first as my natural instinct was to turn the bike but that just felt like the bike was going to fall off the slope, so in the end I just relaxed and let the bike do what it wanted and all was well. The secret is not to actively turn the bike but to let speed, the banking and the laws of physics guide you around the turn. After a few laps I was fine, though I still wasn’t comfortable riding close to other riders, a hangover of not having any brakes!

The first race was a 6-lapper (each lap is 250m) and there was only myself and a friend Kylee in the novices. Two more experienced riders went out with us to get us up to speed and get us swapping off turns at the front, then with 500m to go they pull out and it’s mano-a-mano between myself and Kylee. I knew that I could punch out more power than Kylee, but she was fitter than I was, so I just stayed behind her until 100m to go and put the hammer down around the last bend. First race, first win!

The second race was a 4-lap handicap, and this time they gave Kylee a 40m head start. I caught her with about a lap to go and came around her again on the last bend for the win.

The final race was an 8-lap handicap and this time we each had a more experienced rider to pace us for the first four laps and then we were on our own. Kylee was given a 125m head start this time and I had to chase her down. My chaperone was Gary Mandy, who I found out later, rode for Zimbabwe in the 1988 Olympics, so he quickly got me up to speed and while we were catching Kylee slowly but surely, my lack of fitness was making itself felt and my legs were already toast just following Gary! He swung off and while I continued to catch Kylee I just wasn’t fit enough to close the full gap and she won by about 40m.

All in all a bloody good night’s racing! Next time I’ll move up to Division 5 where there are a lot more people, as I’m comfortable enough riding the banking now and need to get used to having other people near me whilst riding at pace. Unfortunately I will no longer have a weight & power advantage, so there won’t be any more wins for a while!

Sunday morning saw my return to the triathlon scene after a couple of months off, competing in the Cronulla Olympic Distance Triathlon With all the weddings and buck’s parties after New Year’s I hadn’t done all that much training, and when I started up again a couple last month I immediately got shin splints from running too fast too soon. Still, I’d paid my entry fee so figured I might as well do the race.

I had to head down to Cronulla on Saturday to register and drop my bike into transition, then return at the crack of dawn on Sunday morning for the actual race. Saturday evening was nice and warm, with decent size waves promising to make the swim eventful. I’d been swimming at Bondi earlier in the day having fun in the waves, and since the ones in Cronulla were breaking much cleaner all was looking good. Race start was scheduled for 0645, and my wave was scheduled for 0745.

Woke up on Sunday morning and must have been a bit dopey, as I was leisurely eating my breakfast when I realised I should have left 10 minutes previously. The transition area is closed off before the race starts, so, although I wasn’t starting until 0745, I still had to have all my stuff organised in transition before 0630. I managed to get into transition just as they announced it was now closed, so I was a bit rushed in my preparation. I set everything up and walked out of there to join the pre-race toilet queue. While standing there I realised that not only had I still got my sunnies and running cap still with me, I’d also left all my race gear (lycra shorts, top & rash vest) in transitions, meaning I’d nothing to wear for the race. Thankfully they let me in to get my gear!

I ambled down to the beach about 10 minutes before my wave start, noticing that the waves were considerably more confused than yesterday evening, but, despite not having done any swimming since the beginning of December, I wasn’t worried. Some poor guy in the wave in front of me couldn’t get past the break: race effectively over after three minutes. After a brief instructive chat from the Technical Official, the horn sounded and we were off. I got going reasonably well, ducking under the incoming waves, but there was a lot of water moving around and you could really feel the pull if you came up too soon after the wave had passed. I did it twice and got sucked back a couple of metres, but that was the worst of it.

Out to the buoys, left turn for a few hundred metres then back into shore, constantly watching for a wave to catch in. Managed to catch a beauty, body surf the last 50m and stand straight up on the beach. Due to the big waves the swim had to be shortened from the expected 1500m to closer to 1000m, and relocated further down the beach where the surf lifesavers deemed it was safer. The downside to this was we had to run about 1.5km to get back to our bikes. Not ideal for me really, but it wasn’t too bad in the end.

Once out on the bike I resolved to take things easy enough not to fry myself on the run, especially since I’d had shin splints up until a few days previously. It was a two loop, out and back course, and it wasn’t until I reached the turnaround that I realised I’d had the wind behind me up until then and the way home would be a tiny bit harder. Towards the end of the bike my lower back was hurting a bit, just as it had done in Canberra, reinforcing my belief that the bike shop sold me a frame one size too big, so will have to trade it in before next season. I rode into transitions feeling fine and wondering what shape my run legs would be in.

It turns out that cruising the bike worked beautifully and my legs were fine, so I just concentrated on settling into a conservative pace so as not to wreck my shins again. The course had 4 small inclines per lap, which, although not super steep, were enough to prevent me settling into a nice rhythm. I was careful not to drink too much water or electrolyte, fearing that bloated feeling with too much liquid sloshing about, but things went smoothly and I crossed the line in 2:34:10.

Spilts:

In retrospect, I went way too easy on the bike, being a full eight minutes slower than the last time I did this distance (albeit on a different course), though my run was almost four minutes faster which I’m pretty happy with.

That’s it for triathlons for this season. Next race is the Sydney Morning Herald Half Marathon on May 17th.

Yesterday was the City2Surf, and I’m happy to say it went pretty well. Jacqui was also doing it, but she was planning to walk most of it with friends and was starting at the back of the pack, at least 30mins behind me, so I ventured into the city alone to get myself organised. Dropped my ‘keep-warm’ clothes off to get taken to the finish, and queued for about 15mins for the last minute toilet, then made my way over to my start group. It was a bit warmer than I’d expected which was good as I was standing around for about half an hour before the start.

As mentioned previously, I’d managed to get myself in to the fast start group which had a cut-off time of 1:15:00, but I was hoping to crack 1:10 for an average of 12km/h. I hadn’t done any training on hilly courses so was a bit unsure of how I’d get on, so I decided to take it relatively easy until the top of Heartbreak Hill (around 8km) and then see how I felt, and I also decided to start at the back of my group as I was likely to be one of the slower members and this would allow me to stay out of everyone’s way and make it easier to settle into my own pace.

I’d loaded my Shuffle with the metronome MP3s I used on Friday, two 175bpms and a 180bpm, so once the gun went and I crossed the line I hit play, started my HR monitor and I was off. The graph up top gives and idea of how things went. The red line is my heart rate and the green is the altitude, so you can see the course is quite hilly.

As expected, my group slowly pulled away from me at the start, but I synced with the ‘tick, tock’ in my ear and just cruised along at my own pace. There were quite a few people lining the streets to watch the race, and The Golden Sheaf had a rock band blasting away from their balcony, playing some Metallica as I ran by. The first couple of hills weren’t too bad and I split 25:19 for the first 5km, or 5:04/km pace, which I was pretty happy with. By this stage I was running along beside the harbour at Rose Bay, approaching the dreaded Heartbreak Hill, the almost vertical line you can see on the above graph. I hit the bottom and just focused on keeping a decent rhythm going and I started passing people who had gone out too fast and were paying the price.

The half-way point at 7km was about half-way up Heartbreak Hill and I went through that in 36:41 (5:14/km). Doubling that gave me 1:13:20 so I figured that I now had no chance of breaking 1:10, but at that stage I just wanted to get to the top of the hill and get all the climbing over and done with! I was also conscious of the fact that once I got to the top of the hill I was on familiar roads that I’d run many times previously when I was living in Vaucluse, and that it was mostly downhill to the finish. I made it into Vaucluse village still feeling good and with my HR coming down after the uphill exertions, so I decided now was the time to pick things up a bit.

Turning onto Military Road at 9km I was still well over 5:00/km pace, so I pushed the downhill bit then rounded the corner facing another uphill. I was getting sick of the uphills at this stage, but once I got to Dover Heights that was definitely the last of them. I missed the 10km marker, but my running was feeling good, despite the onset of a stitch. I jammed my fingers under my ribcage to get rid of it and just kept going. By 11km the downhill pace was taking effect and I was getting close to 5:00/km pace, and I reached 12km in 59:50, taking me under 5:00/km pace for the first time. At this stage I knew I’d break 1:10 so I just kept going and resolved to try to maintain my current pace all the way to the finish when I hit the flats of Campbell Parade.

By this stage I was passing people left, right and centre but still feeling good. I came around the roundabout onto the promenade and could see the finish line, with the clock counting down to 1:10. I knew I had a bit of time in hand as it had taken me some time to cross the start line after the gun went off, but I decided to try to beat the finish clock to 1:10 anyway. The race announcer was shouting encouragement, trying to get everyone in under 1:10 so I just went for it, remembering to stop my watch as I hit the timing pads. That was it. All over and I still felt surprisingly good. HR peaked at 183 across the line.

1:08:03. That was my time by my watch, which I was pretty happy with. I’d knocked off the second 7km (mainly downhill) in 31:22 (4:28/km) and the last two kms in 8:13 (4:06/km), so perhaps I took it a bit too easy in the first half? Official results are published in the paper tomorrow, so I’ll have to wait until then to get my final time.

I went home, had a quick shower, grabbed my camera and headed back down to the finish to get a snap of Karly, Jacqui and Debbie in the finishing straight…

After that I was off to Reidy’s for a much-deserved BBQ to compare notes with other runners. Stu and Gareth both managed around 1:07, whereas Adrian was way out in front with a 1:01. Nice work!

Finally, after almost nine years in Sydney, I got around to entering the City2Surf last week. The City2Surf is a 14km fun-run, starting in Sydney’s CBD and finishing at Bondi Beach, and is one of the biggest races in the world, with 67,000 particpants last year. Most of my friends have done it, but I was always snowboarding or something at this time of the year, so I never got around to it.

When I went to the site to enter, I discovered, to my dismay, that it was going to be a bit more difficult than I thought. Due to the sheer numbers participating, there are 4 different start groups. The first two, SH1 and SH2, require that you submit a previous time before you can be included, which ruled me out as a first-timer. The problem was that the third group was full, so my only option was to run with the “back-of-the-pack” group.

Now I know I can run 14km, so I’m not doing the race just to finish it, I’d like to post a time, and there’s no way I could do that with 40,000 people already on the road in front of me. Luckily I discovered that I could submit some previous race results and the organisers might permit me to start in one of the SH groups, even though I haven’t done a City2Surf before. SH1 is for those with a previous time of under 75mins for the 14km, so, since I can comfortably run 51mins for 10km, I figured I’d aim high and apply for that group. As a backup, I also asked that the organisers consider me for SH2 (<100mins) if they felt I wasn’t up to scratch for SH1, but that turned out not to be necessary as they let me in to SH1!

So, next Sunday morning, look out for me lining up with the Kenyans! I’ll be the pasty white bloke giving away 25kgs ;-)

Yesterday was the day of reckoning at the end of my 10K Clinic, with those who completed the course taking part in the Turkey Trot 10K race. I’d managed to get injured half-way through, from doing too much too soon, and my effort had therefore tailed off towards the end of the course, so while I had originally looked like I’d go under 50mins, it was unlikely to happen yesterday.

I met up with the rest of my running group to hang out before the start, trying to stay warm in the early morning chill. After stripping down to my running gear I really noticed the cold, so once the race started I made the second of my two fatal mistakes by starting off too fast. The first mistake was to have All Bran for breakfast… I can hear you chuckling now as you think you know what I’m about to say next, but I can assure you there was no sharting! The All Bran took ages to digest, so it was still sitting in my stomach when the race started, leading to stitches within a couple of kms.

I realised before the halfway mark that my overly quick start, combined with the stitches, meant that there was no way I could sustain my current sub-50 pace, so I resolved to continue unabated through to the 5K mark and then try and walk it off. I passed 5K in 24:42 which was respectable as the first half contained the only hill on the course, then adopted a run/walk strategy for the rest of the race, trying to find a pace which didn’t give me a stitch. I crossed the finish line in 51:08, giving me 26:26 for the second half, which wasn’t too bad, and since it was my first, proper¹ stand alone 10K I was happy enough with that.

Overall it’s a good course and there was a great atmosphere for the race, with many smiling faces crossing the line with a visible sense of achievement. However, while I would like to have run a bit faster, I learned three important things:

• All Bran is not an ideal pre-race breakfast
• Don’t get injured 4 weeks before the race
• Stick to your intended starting pace

There’s another 10K, the Fall Classic, in about six weeks, so I may consider entering that. I’ll make the decision in a couple of weeks, depending on whether I’m still running in the rapidly deteriorating weather!