Light Horse Ultra 12/6/3 hours
In the time since the Delirious WEST finished in February to now, a whole lot of shit has gone down. USWA has launched a second 200mi event in South Australia that I've accepted the Race Director role for, which is an undoubted high point and something I am freaking excited for. But I also suffered a manic episode post DW so bad I nearly walked out on everything I hold dear. Since then it's been the slow process of rebuilding trust with family and friends; medication changes; job interviews ... it's been tough and a battle. During this time however, I've managed to get my running back on track, with a slow build towards a couple of challenging events.
The Light Horse Ultra is an event I'd not really put much thought in to doing. It's run on the ANZAC Day weekend, and seeks to celebrate the freedom we live through the service those have given. The premise is simple: run as far as you can in 3, 6, or 12 hours around a 2.5km loop through the Yellagonga Regional Park in the Northern suburbs of Perth. This year, Shaun (USWA boss and all round good fella) threw open the event with free entry to ex-service personnel. If six years in the Royal Australian Air Force taught me anything, it's never turn down free stuff. Especially if there's a gong at the end of it. So I put in an entry to the 3hr event, knowing full well I wouldn't be in any kind of shape to go for any longer and was probably just going to treat it as a training run with a medal thrown in at the end. With a few days off from work I decided to make a weekend out of it, heading to Perth on ANZAC Day as I knew the roads would be quiet. I don't usually attend dawn services, for a multitude of reasons. Let's just say that the modern nationalistic chest thumping around the cult of ANZAC doesn't sit well with me. Don't @ me.
As I mentioned, I'd started skipping runs. Two of those happened to be during the week, so I figured a light 5k around Jez's block in Thornlie would be just the ticket to getting the legs loosened up for Saturday's "long run". That was until Kelly mentioned there was a 1.1km Strava segment close by, and that Jez had recently bumped my time. Game on bitches. So with Jeremy riding shotgun and filming me on his phone for the lulz I smashed out a sub 4min/km on the flats for the first time since about 2015. I missed the top spot by 5 seconds. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu... Everyone else thought it was hilarious. The rest of the day was spent catching up with my Delirious WEST race wife Gabi and hunting around for some new shoes. None were found. Sort your shit out Altra, FFS. I need new shoes (more on that later).
The 3 & 6 hour events kicked off at 0600, with check in at 5ish. I hadn't slept great (snatching only a few hours), but was otherwise in a pretty good headspace on arriving and seeing the 12hr runners circulating in the dark. My Albany running buddy Steve wandered in to the aid/finish zone, and confessed later to being pretty low at that point. Hopefully the hug I gave him helped. He manged to go more than 90km in his 12hrs, well beyond his goal for the event. Also arriving in the dark was the infamous "Coach Dingaway", Bib Track Fatass team leader and general piss-taker. He was running the 3hr event too. He's got a nasty habit of doing little and then turning up to mongrel a quick run, and had brought the lucky Zoolander tie shirt. Obviously it was business time. We talked "tactics" (ie: just run around in circles for a bit until someone yells stop) and then everyone moved away for the pre-event dawn service. There's something surreal about a bugle sounding off at dawn, and I did find myself getting a bit jumpy. One last pit stop, a check of the headlamp and then it was go time.
The plan, for want of a better expression, was to roll out 5:45-6min/km for the three hours and go for 30km as my goal distance. As with most plans, that went straight out the window the second someone yelled "GO!" I found myself very early circulating at 5min/km and wasn't able to dial it back. The cat was out of the bag, so I decided to see just how long I could hold the pace. Not having run a timed event before, I found it hard to gauge where I was in the field and who was running what event. Yes I know the numbers on the bibs corresponded to what event you were in, but ain't nobody got time to look for that. I just had to work it out for myself and run in my own zone. 5km eases past in 25:17. Ok, this is not so bad. I'm not really hurting, the heart rate is sitting low 150's so I'm not cooking myself, I can deal with this easily. I roll through 10k in 50:37. Right. Now we're in interesting territory. 15k is up in 1:16:57... I start having wild fantasies about hitting 35km with change. Coming in to the half marathon distance the clock hits 1:48:19. So... that's my third fastest half ever, on the back of a long lay-off and some vaguely focused training. It's also about this time I start to feel a little stiff in my right glute.
When I was off injured for so long in 2018, one of the things my physio noticed was I have poor hip aductor strength, particularly on the right side. Stretching, rolling and some strength exercises have helped improve things, but as is my want I've mostly been ignoring it hoping it'll all work out in the end. Tips for young players: it doesn't all work out in the end. As I get in to the aid/finish zone at 22.5km I'm really getting uncomfortable as everything starts to get a bit tight. By the end of that lap, it's really tight and getting worse. My hips and groin all of a sudden become the mortal enemies of the rest of my body, and it's not cool. I'm also starting to blister on my right foot. The Skechers I'm in don't seem to be able to cut it beyond a half marathon distance. The timer has just gone 2:10:17, and I have no idea where I am in the field. All I know that I've been passed by a few people, but only a couple of them I know are in the 3hr event. I decide to press on best I can, and see where this path leads. Turns out, it's to a cave marked pain.
“Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional. Say you're running and you think, 'Man, this hurts, I can't take it anymore. The 'hurt' part is an unavoidable reality, but whether or not you can stand anymore is up to the runner himself.” - What I Talk About When I Talk About Running
The nicest words to describe the next 50 minutes are "uncomfortable", "intense" and "seemingly pointless". In my head, the language was far more uncharitable. The reason I decided to push forward? I wanted to see if I could. Part of this was an exercise to see which one would go first: the mind or the body. In the past it's been the mind. If you see my training peaks and troughs over the last few years they correspond to times when I'm feeling mentally strong or mentally weak. This run was partially about developing mental strength. My recent struggles with mania and depression had me questioning who I am as a person. I went looking for some answers, and I think I found a few. Also, I had a goal. And I was going to get that goal - 30km in 2:38:58. Beyond that was gravy. I went for one more lap. By the time that was done I was too. I decided I was going to walk for the remaining time. That was until bloody Ben Harris and Wayne McMurtie decided to get in my ear as they mosey out of the aid area and on to another lap for Wayne's 12hr effort.
"C'mon Bill, just a bit more" - Wayne and Ben
BUT EVERYTHING FKN HURTS!!! - inner monologue
"Ok." - what actually came out
It's slow, and it hurts. But it's still moving. And it's only for a few more minutes. I think I managed to trot up the small hill, and I do recall a brief little effort to get in front of someone as the clock wound down. I think it was for about 15m before the hips called and end to that. And then, it was time up and sandbags down. I've got 33.47km on the Garmin. That'll do for today. Dammit, now I have to get back to the aid area.
Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow.
In the end, the total was 33.51km. It placed me 5th, which quite frankly I found both hilarious and frightening. I've never seen myself as a top half of the field runner, but when people like Tony Smith tell you it was a great race then it starts to light a little fire under you. So it's back out on the training track tomorrow. Everything is still a bit tender, but I know it will turn over. As always though, there are lessons to be learned.
B.
- Truth or Consequences 50k - run by the Perth Trail Series, arguably the hardest 50k in WA with over a vert mile of elevation. I got talked in to it by a few friends. IT's going to be a test bed event, because if that goes well;
- Feral Pig 50mi - the goal was always to get a 50mi in this year if I could get the body sorted. I did initially plan to have a pop at WTF, but family scheduling knocked that idea on the head. This event actually makes more sense time wise, as I can reassess after ToC as to where I need to focus my training. Work smarter, not harder as they say.
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| Train ... ing? |
As I mentioned, I'd started skipping runs. Two of those happened to be during the week, so I figured a light 5k around Jez's block in Thornlie would be just the ticket to getting the legs loosened up for Saturday's "long run". That was until Kelly mentioned there was a 1.1km Strava segment close by, and that Jez had recently bumped my time. Game on bitches. So with Jeremy riding shotgun and filming me on his phone for the lulz I smashed out a sub 4min/km on the flats for the first time since about 2015. I missed the top spot by 5 seconds. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu... Everyone else thought it was hilarious. The rest of the day was spent catching up with my Delirious WEST race wife Gabi and hunting around for some new shoes. None were found. Sort your shit out Altra, FFS. I need new shoes (more on that later).
The 3 & 6 hour events kicked off at 0600, with check in at 5ish. I hadn't slept great (snatching only a few hours), but was otherwise in a pretty good headspace on arriving and seeing the 12hr runners circulating in the dark. My Albany running buddy Steve wandered in to the aid/finish zone, and confessed later to being pretty low at that point. Hopefully the hug I gave him helped. He manged to go more than 90km in his 12hrs, well beyond his goal for the event. Also arriving in the dark was the infamous "Coach Dingaway", Bib Track Fatass team leader and general piss-taker. He was running the 3hr event too. He's got a nasty habit of doing little and then turning up to mongrel a quick run, and had brought the lucky Zoolander tie shirt. Obviously it was business time. We talked "tactics" (ie: just run around in circles for a bit until someone yells stop) and then everyone moved away for the pre-event dawn service. There's something surreal about a bugle sounding off at dawn, and I did find myself getting a bit jumpy. One last pit stop, a check of the headlamp and then it was go time.
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| But I'm scared of the dark |
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| Feeling good, before the wheels seized up |
“Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional. Say you're running and you think, 'Man, this hurts, I can't take it anymore. The 'hurt' part is an unavoidable reality, but whether or not you can stand anymore is up to the runner himself.” - What I Talk About When I Talk About Running
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| Everything hurts just as much as it appears |
"C'mon Bill, just a bit more" - Wayne and Ben
BUT EVERYTHING FKN HURTS!!! - inner monologue
"Ok." - what actually came out
It's slow, and it hurts. But it's still moving. And it's only for a few more minutes. I think I managed to trot up the small hill, and I do recall a brief little effort to get in front of someone as the clock wound down. I think it was for about 15m before the hips called and end to that. And then, it was time up and sandbags down. I've got 33.47km on the Garmin. That'll do for today. Dammit, now I have to get back to the aid area.
Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow.
 |
| Risked it for the biscuit |
- Strength work. Fear it. Dread it. In the end, I don't like it. But it's now a requirement if I don't want to hurt like this again at ToC. I've got a PT in mind who I want to develop a program that fits in with the running.
- Shoes. Again, sort your shit out Altra. Get someone distributing them here in Australia, or make them a damn sight easier to buy online. I love your products, don't make me turn away from you for good. The Skechers I got what I paid for (not much), and certainly can't be relied on to hold up for a marathon.
- Don't shy away from the pain. It can be an asset.
- Don't skip training. Although I don't think it cost me anything at Light Horse, being haphazard can't be sustained and will only end up with me hurting myself again. After ToC I may look at getting a coach. Send me your CV's. And chocolate.
B.
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| BTF squad goals |
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