I have always wondered what it takes to run 100k, but I never thought I would be the kind of runner to actually find out first hand.
So what does it take to run 100km with over 4,400m elevation? Grit? Determination? Strength and good training? Absolutely. One thing I learnt is you also need Humility. Not only is the Ultra Trail Australia course one that demands respect, you have to leave your ego behind and reassess every km as you go.
I have said it many times, I don’t consider myself a good runner, but on Saturday 18th May 2019, I fought for 16hrs and 10minutes to prove to myself that I am.
The lead up to this race has been fraught with pain and injury. From about August last year I’ve been sick or injured. Post-tibial tendinopathy in both legs, plantar fasciitis and a calf strain only 6 weeks out, my goals changed dramatically in the lead up to simply getting to the start line. My long runs were slower than I wanted, there were weeks I had to stick to the gym bike instead, I couldn’t push on the hills, the list goes on. So to say I was feeling nervous and underprepared is an understatement.
Luckily for me what I do have is an amazing support crew. My coach Jenny Morris is not only a great personal friend but also very good understanding and reading people. So with her guidance, a few changes to weekly training where needed and some encouraging words and a couple of kicks up the butt, we were through the thick of it and counting down the days.
I am lucky enough to only live a couple of hours drive from the gorgeous Blue Mountains. I’ve run UTA50 twice and luckily (although it didn’t feel like it at the time) my first 50k was in 2017 which was the year we ran the first half of the hundred course due to the weather. (Side Note: I still tip my hat to Tom L-S and all involved for organising that massive switch in under 24hrs and there was no evidence of a ‘lesser event’ in any way whatsoever!) Combined with having run and trained on Six Foot and making it a priority to get out on course as much as possible, I felt as prepared as I could be in terms of my knowledge of the course. For me this was important as I always find myself feeling under confident in many other ways.
UTA11 & 22
So Thursday afternoon I headed up with the kids about lunchtime and we were lucky enough to catch the finishers of the inaugural UTA11 come in. I instantly felt those ‘finish line feels’ and felt a comfortable feeling of being home. I loved this place. This is really the best finish line I have ever been to. The look of relief, joy, desperation, pain and longing on every runners face is the same, regardless of distance or ability. It binds us as runners, our achievement is our own accomplishment and it is celebrated fiercely by our trail running community. The majesty of those mountains, stairs and climbs are a force of nature and should never be underestimated.
We stayed until the last runner crossed the line just as the last light faded away and the temperature dropped and I welcomed the realisation that these conditions would be my company for several hours of Saturday night. Dark and cold. Was I strong enough??
Matt and Sarah rocked up after they finished work and they prepped their gear for the 22 the following morning. This was Matt’s biggest trail run to date and he was going to use this as an indicator about his body’s ability to handle a marathon. Sarah was only back from Europe a few weeks before having just run the Paris Marathon so this was a great fun intro back to trails for her! (I think she just had FOMO: lol!)
We’d heard a few horror stories about the buses from Scenic World to the start of the 22 at QVH from previous years so with plenty of time and a LOT of buses, we arrived pretty seamlessly at the Start.
We watched David Kings always-fabulous Welcome to Country and in the blink of an eye Start Group 1 (containing Sarah) was off. A few minutes later and with big hugs and Good Lucks from our boys, Matt went and found his spot in Start Group 2 and we eagerly awaited his start.
UTA22 is a completely blind course in terms of spectating. Once runners head off, there’s no where on course you can watch so there’s only the timing points they run past at 16km and at the bottom of Furber you can use to track and gauge their progress. It's tantalisingly frustrating! So all we could do was head back to the Finish Line at Scenic World and await their arrival.
They both smashed it! Their net time was only 2 minutes and 2 seconds off each other so we had two very happy runners to celebrate with! Sadly, the plan was for Matt to take the boys home that afternoon as the logistics of young kids and ultras are tricky! I went and did my Race Check In, collected my bib and realised that there was really no turning back now! We said our goodbyes (admittedly River, our youngest, had been a giant turd at the finish line so there was a large part of me that was very happy to see the back of parenting for the rest of the weekend!) which meant yet another step closer.
Final Prep
Sarah and I were then heading off to another house with other runners (including Jenny & Chantelle) and started final gear prep, drop bags and any last minute changes or decisions.
At this stage things got very, very real for me. My entire world got very small and internal, my chest got tight and I stopped listening to the buzz of everyone else around me. I had worked so hard, been through so much to get to this point, what if I wasn’t ready? What if I failed? What if I’m just not good enough? These questions raced through my mind. I thought of all the people who knew about what I was doing, how proud my family was of me, how many friends had wished me good luck. It was a horrible place to be in mentally and I felt totally overwhelmed.
It was time to head back to Scenic World for the race briefing and so I just tried to pack all those insecurities deep down into a little box and lock the lid. Heading back into the buzz of the race expo and race briefing actually did help and I slowly started to feel excited about the prospect of race day rather than wanting to shit my pants. The rest of the evening flew, briefing, expo, shops for dinner, eat, chat, bed.
I slept really well that night. I had a terrible nights sleep the previous night for some reason so I slept solidly until about 3.30 and then dosed for a couple of hours feeling quite rested until the alarms started going off and footsteps, kettles and mircowaves drew me out of bed.
Race Day
The time is now. There’s no more “next month, next week, tomorrow, later”, time to put on the big girl pants, take a deep breath and put one foot in front of the other, repeatedly, for a really long time. 100km. It starts now.
With the best send off of any race, Kerry Suter is epic, the most motivational commentator I’ve ever heard. He could convince my grandad who passed away ten years ago to get up and run this thing.
So we were off. The first 7km is road which spreads people out, but slightly unfairly the first 2km are up a narly hill, so it feels tough going from the start. A 2km out and back section brings you back to Scenic World at the 4k mark for another dose of massive cheers from the crowds before heading down towards the trails and Furber Steps.
Hitting the bottom of Furber takes you a sharp right into Leura Forest, a nice couple of kilometres of single track, easy running before hitting Landslide, a technical, bouldery section which requires concentration to avoid slipping or rolling an ankle pretty badly. I was worried about the unevenness of this section on my foot (Plantar Fasciitis) but I was absolutely fine. Get through this and its another couple of kms of easy single track before the first stir climb, Golden Stairs.
These are uneven, steep and there’s some technical sections and stairs are not my strong point so my aim on these is always just to make steady progress, not to wear myself out and to finish at the top feeling strong. It’s then a left at the top onto Narrow Neck and to Check Point 1 at the 11.4km mark. (race time: 1hr 31)
I ran straight through here, there’s no crew here, so no need to hang around, continuing on the undulating Narrow Neck firetrail to the dreaded Tarros Ladders at 22km. I hate these. I make myself do them instead of the alternate track around because there’s a weird part of me that considers them a right of passage and I refuse to be ruled by fear.
So I slowly and cautiously work my way down the makeshift vertical network of extension ladders and shockingly, I don’t die. My foot hits the solid ground, I physically shudder as if to shake off what is now in the past, and I continue my journey.
It’s more single track, a bit bouldery and technical, slowly heading downhill, growing steeper and steeper for a couple of kilometres until your kinda spat out on to a fire trail. Once again I’m on a nice undulating fire trail, totally runnable, all the way to Check Point 2 (31.6km) at Dunphys Camp. I seem to remember a Mandatory Gear Check just before this check point… but it also could have been just before Check Point 3. Either way, CP2 was just a quick fill up on water in the bladder and my soft flask that was ready with Tailwind and off we went.
Leaving CP2 I know I have Iron Pot up next. I’ve heard nightmare inducing stories and had lots of warnings of “be careful on Iron Pot”… it lived up to all of them. The steep ascent is just like Mount Solitary, just not as long. Pulling yourself up tree by tree, a couple of clambering rocky climbs and you meet the out and back section. This is pretty flat but super technical, narrow and you’re also dealing with two way traffic of other runners. Up here is the amazing trio of men playing the didgeridos, which is the most atmospheric, and hauntingly beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.
Running back along this section feels so exposed as it’s only a few metres wide. The descent is even more mental. Ridiculously steep, dusty and absolutely zero traction, you literally just skid down this mountain side and gracefully try and break your fall from tree to tree. I was acutely aware of how easily that could all go very horribly wrong. One clip of your toe on a rock and you’re done.
Once again, I made it to the bottom and I didn’t die. The next 10kms to CP4 (6hrs 10) were delightfully uneventful paddocks and fire trail, warm and exposed but beautiful and I enjoyed knowing I would see Sarah soon. A quick refuel and a sad moment where I also met Jenny who had decided to call it a day here and I was on my way in great spirits. My knees were starting to sing a quite song of distain at downhills but it was totally manageable at this point. I realised I had finally settled into my stride and my nerves were gone too now that Tarros and Iron Pot were done and I was almost half way. I may just pull this off!
My fuelling started to dip slightly as several hours of tailwind and gels started to take their toll on my gut and although I felt fine, when I forced a swig of tailwind or gel down, it didn’t sit well and I was getting really put off ‘fuel’, and instead just wanted real food like oranges and watermelon. I knew that this was a recipe for disaster though and made myself take in as much as I could without feeling sick. I seemed to find a good balance for the rest of the race and made sure I took in some nutrition a good way ahead of the really tough sections, like Nellies, that was coming up.
The last section of this first ‘half’ (which is actually slightly longer) of the course is more fire trail back up Six Foot Track to Nellies Glen. Along this stretch you cross the half way point and I was happy to realise that I had taken 7 minutes of my previous 50k time.
Leaving the valley via Nellies is an experience that sees grown men (and women) cry, cramp, dry wretch and use some pretty fowl language. I was lucky this day. It's simply Stairs. Stairs for Days. They don't stop. Ever. It's disgusting, in fact it should be illegal. Taking my ‘slow and steady’ approach I kept moving smoothly and overtook a few guys who were struggling. Once you hit the top there’s a couple more k’s of trail and eventually by the grace of a higher power you are spat out onto the road with a short stint on the tarmac to CP4, Katoomba Aquatic Centre (57.3km @ 7hrs 57)
Another refuel and being slightly force fed by Sarah, she told me I was slightly ahead of time which surprised me as I knew I’d been slower at the start than I wanted to have been. Trip to the bathroom, plug my watch in to charge for a bit, couple of cups of Coke (which I haven’t drunk in 15 years, but I needed it and I could stomach it!) and I was off to hit the stairs.
This next section is my least favourite. It never gets easier and it is my weakest part of my running. But with no choice in the matter, it’s down the Giants Stairway and into Leura forest again, this time in the opposite direction. It wasn’t until I started down the stairs I realised my knees were getting worse. All the uphill and flatter sections on Six Foot weren’t a problem; it was the down that was causing the pain. Dammit. Downhill is my strength, my A Game. Ok, time to reassess, move cautiously on the down so it doesn’t get too much worse, and push the flats and ups for as long as possible. You’re going to finish and you’re not going to die.
Hitting that first set of stairs is like Christmas at Grandma’s growing up. I know I can’t avoid it, I know I just have to get through it as quickly as possible, eat what I’m told and have a couple of polite conversations along the way. Those stairs just go on forever. Just when you think you’ve done the last set, there’s another one you forgot about. But eventually I recognise the little incline of single track that leads to the road and eventually to the Fairmont, and I’m happy. It’s over. Maybe it wasn’t that bad.
The Fairmont is only a water stop, not a crewed Check Point, so although I see Sarah she can’t assist me. She does tell me to get my thermal and headtorch on though as it will be dark soon; I listen. As soon as I’m there, I’m gone again. I know I’ve lost the time I made up but there’s nothing I can do now. As I take yet another set of stairs down again, my knee is really slowing me up and we’re losing the light. As it gets dark the trail becomes uneventful but I know roughly where I am as I work my way towards Wentworth Falls (yes, more stairs) and then out onto Kings Tableland Road. It’s well and truly night time now and the full moon is shining down on us crazy runners, highlighting the beauty of our insanity and the land around us. Now those of us who are left are just a bunch of crazy people running around in the woods in the dark carrying a bunch of expensive gear. There isn't a bear chasing us, we're here entirely of our own free will, but somehow you just can't stop us.
A final road section and a donning of my High Vis Vest took me into CP5 (78.4km @ 12hrs 02) just before 6.30pm. I knew my knee was done now and this last section was going to be irritatingly slower than I had intended. I was sadistically looking forward to 8kms of down before the final climbs leading home. TRT Head Coach Gary was there looking out for me with Sarah and together they got me changed, fed me a Snickers and made sure I had enough fuel to see me through to the finish. Despite a perfect Formula One style pit stop performance, I did leave the checkpoint with my long tights on backwards! Hey, it wasn’t going to matter!
Out I headed for the final time, into the night. It didn’t feel cold which was a relief and I powered up the small incline as best I could before the long descent towards Jamieson Creek, in pain pretty much the entire way. With music to accompany me, I may have sang a couple of Disney classics, some Madonna and some 90s pop-tastic classics fairly loudly and completely unaware as to whether anyone was within earshot. It was a distraction from the pain, which was now excruciating and I worked hard not to change my running style to compensate. Last thing in needed was pain elsewhere or for my Plantar Fasciitis to kick in! Having trained a lot on Kedumba this year I felt the time passed fairly quickly and I slogged the uphill and undulating sections back out all the way to “The Rock”. I knew with every step I was getting closer and had no intention of stopping at the 91km Emergency Aid Station – it was Game On now people. Let’s finish this.
Hitting Leura Forest for one last stint I was making myself shuffle a jog and actually still felt strong, much to my amazement. I had no idea my body could do this and between the steps down and shooting pain in my patella tendon I ran in awe of my bodies capacity to push through. The finish line was tantalizingly close and even in the dark I recognised most of the trail. Passing the 95km mark was a moment of sheer insanity. I remember last year running past this sign and saying to myself “I wonder what that would feel like. I could never do that”, yet here I was.
My watch had fluctuated between being behind, spot on and now it was ahead, so each time my watch buzzed, 96, 97, 98km, I knew I still had to run another 400m before I was actually at that point. GAH! Slowly but surely, I reached the final km marker of 1km to go – Furber Steps! Much to my dismay (and probably every other runner out there!) it was way too early… so I ran an extra 400m (so my watch now read 99.8km) before I hit the steps.
There were two vollies at the base who got a big high five and they told me I was amazing – thanks guys! I knew Sarah and Jenny would soon know I was in the final minutes of this incredible journey and I longed to see them and hear those cow bells! As the cheers slowly became audible it was like an invisible beam pulling me in. Yes, the stairs were hard work, but they felt strangely effortless too. Nothing in comparison to what I’d done already that day! In my mind I was replaying the advice someone had given me, remember to turn off your headtorch to get a good finishers photo! Priorities right?? On that final set of steps and on to the boardwalk I suddenly noticed two other women runners. I genuinely couldn’t tell you if I caught them or if they caught me, or a mix of both, but as soon as one picked up the pace, we all made a dash for the finish. Female placings at stake I have never sprinted so hard in my life!
Oh. My. God. I just ran 100kms. I was finished. 16hours and 10 minutes later, I was done, I was a Centurion. I thought I would cry, I normally do, but i didn't, I just fell into Jenny and Sarah’s arms, happy & relieved. I wished my boys had been there. I got my buckle and I smiled like a crazy person. UTA100 you’re a beauty and a beast. You have the best finishers shoot ever. Thank you for stripping me of my ego, handing my ass to me on course and showing me what I’m made of, all in one day.
If you're reading this, I didn't die.
Gear:
Vest: Ultimate Direction
Shoes: Altra Olympus 3.0
Socks: Injini Trail Socks (the ones with the Three Sisters, of course!)
Bottoms: Ultimate Direction Running Skirt for 78kms and Lululemons to finish
Tops: Under Armour Youth Boys Singlet, Le Bent Thermal and then changed into Lululemon Singlet and Thermal at QVH
Buff: Le Bent
Fuel: Torq & Gu Gels, Shot Bloks Tailwind, Perpetuem and a Vegemite Sandwich
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