Birdy's bastard backyard
Alice: “How long is forever?”
White Rabbit: “Sometimes, just one second.” - Lewis Carroll; Alice in Wonderland
It's sometime after 2am. I'm in what I have not-so lovingly christened "the rabbit warren", I'm cold, and I'm unhappy. I hate this section of the course the most. The rest of the course I can deal with, but this part really gets my goat. I don't know why. But at this point right now I just want to get warm. I'm starting to lose the feeling in my fingers and really wish I had spent more time searching for a pair of gloves in the city before the drive out. I start walking with my hands in my pockets, and when I do break out in to a slow run and have to take the hands out no amount of flexing and blowing on them helps. I can see lights flicker in and out, but I'm not sure if they're headlamps from the other runners in front on the switchback or the reflective course marking tape. All I can do is keep moving and know that it would all be over soon...
It all started with Facebook message from Shaun..."Congratulations!!!" it said, "You are one of the invitees for the inaugural running of Birdy's Backyard Ultra!!!!!!"
I was a little taken aback, Why me? And WTF is a backyard ultra? Apparently, it's a pretty big thing. Thanks Laz, you jerk. It didn't take long to say yes, and the invite was kind of a catalyst for this stupid 5 ultras in 5 months thing I'm currently undertaking. The mental planning wasn't hard; turn up, run some laps, DNF. A few some laughs along the way. But most of all, HAVE FUN! The plan for training was also pretty simple: by adding a little spur on to the Mt Clarence parkrun track I could get 6.7km with about 130 - 140m of elevation. Early reports had said we would be looking around that for the Birdy course. Three of those on a Saturday morning along with the usual training load, a couple of night runs and Robert's your father's brother. But like Agent Smith in The Matrix Reloaded, the course vert grew exponentially as the event grew closer. 170 ... 190 ... 200 ... the race email a few days before the start settled on 250m. Jesus, what the hell man?! And then there was the course shape itself. Either someone strapped a GPS to Felix, told him to go for a walk and then used that trace as a template, or a drunk epileptic with a crayon did some freehand work. Either way there were a LOT of turns. Just what have I gotten myself in to now?
It's the end of lap five. I feel nauseous, and have so for probably twenty minutes. Ben is sitting in camp with his usual Cheshire cat grin. I ask if he went a bit faster that lap.
"Yeah, I put a bit of pepper on that one." The turd, he doesn't even look like he's done a thing.
"About 44 minutes , Jesus Ben" says Hel.
" I feel like shit." I say "I think I'm going to pull the pin. I was going great, I was running with Margie and Kylie and Jen and feeling stro..."
"Hang on. You were running with Margie?" interrupts Ben
"Yeah. I was feeling really good and the pace was comfortable. Then I started to feel sick and nearly vommed"
Ben just stares at me.
"Dude, please hear the words from my mouth right now. DO. NOT. TRY. AND. KEEP. PACE. WITH. THE. WORLD. 100KM. CHAMPIONSHIP. RUNNER. Come on, you're good for a few more, I'll run you through this one."
"But I don't wan..."
"GET YOUR ARSE OUT THERE!"
Silence
"RUNNERS, THREE MINUTES TO THE NEXT LAP"
"Ok..."
We walk to the corral...
My friend Helen has offered to crew for the event. She's not done anything like this before. She's started training for 6 Inch in December and wants to get a handle on everything ultra related. Oh boy, is she in for a surprise. I'm staying at her place before we head out to the campsite, and she's grilling me on what I'll need for nutrition and how we're going to get it all done. I dunno, just wing it I guess. *Mental note: don't wing it*. I get what now appears to be the traditional pre-event crap night of sleep, and we get going early - I want to set up the camper and chill before the event. The drive to Birdy's goes quickly, and all of a sudden we're there. Parking up, I'm amazed how stunning the area is. And how hilly. The campsite/event area is right on top of the hill, and it slopes off sharply both sides. I send Shaun a message telling him he's an utter bastard and wait for him to get back from walking the course. People start arriving in dribs and drabs. We're all nervous. Shaun is back and we busy ourselves setting up camp. Helen demands that I eat and drink properly, and eventually we're sorted. Now we wait. Harmony and her daughter Juliet arrive, and set up next door. Then Ben rocks in, casually asks who's setup this is and then happily takes up my offer of using it as his base too. All in all it's a happy little campsite.
This is fun, I say to myself. There's a whole bunch of us, and someone behind me is naming off all the landmarks as we run past them.
"Spiky tree number eight" "Sharp rocky turn four" "Steep downhill twenty seven"
We're coming out of the creek run, and have a couple of water crossings to go. Everyone has paused to try and pick a dry line over while I come barrelling up and hurdle over, all the while singing the Nintendo Mario Bros. theme. I hear people laughing. Off I go again, but now I'm shooting off ahead making more Super Mario sound effects.
"He's found an invincible star!" Ben yells. I decide to go with it, right up to the point where a tree branch clocks me right on the shoulder. And that hurt. The star has worn off obviously.
"Watch out for that branch!" I say.
"WHAT?!" "OW, FUCK!" "AAAAAAHHH!" Too late, the branch has claimed some more victims. They won't be the last. But at least my socks are dry for now...
At 3pm, there's a run through of the course so we can familiarise ourselves with the twists and turns. Felix is leading us out. If ever there was a recipe for disaster, this would be it - #felixnav is a thing in the WA trail running community because of him. Oh well, what's the worst that can happen? Teh 40 or so runners, plus crew all crowd in to the starting corral and we head off, down to the first series of switchbacks. Later, someone comments there was close to 100 turns on the course. I think they were right. It's twisty and turny and up and down like a yo-yo. Surprisingly, we don't get lost. It's been flagged pretty heavily, and rightly so.
We all make it safely back to camp, and start to compare elevations. 200m, plus or minus, seems to be the going rate. Ok, that's better than the "official" line, but it's still going to be hardcore. Some nervous glances are exchanged. So be it, it's not really anything outside of what I usually train at anyway and I'd spent most of the drive to Perth doing the maths in my head over elevation and distance - an out and back at Bald Head is 700+ over 13km, so two laps here is technically easier than that. Turns out, it wasn't but whatever. We've got just enough time to scoff some more food down, arrange my spare kit in just the right way to avoid unnecessary faffing about should the need arise and then get dressed proper. I mention I need a pair of gaters.
"I've got a spare pair if you want Bill" Harmony says.
"Can I borrow then?"
"Sure. But I warn you, they're loud and pink."
"I don't think that's going to be an issue H..." I gesture at myself, I'm currently wearing pink calf and arm sleeves.
It's nearly time. The race brief is on, but I need a nervous pee. Thankfully, it doesn't end with me being locked in the toilet by Glen and Alexis like Ben was. It's hilarious. The tension is broken, and we all start to squeeze in to the starting corral laughing and joking around. That's what this event had become, a laugh and a run in the bush at night with my friends ... my tribe ... to steal from the USWA slogan. The countdown started, Hel has the cowbell, and ... we're off.
I can hear the music from, quite literally, a mile away. Not much of this lap left, and I don't actually mind this part of the course. My toes are wet from the last creek crossing, but the socks have wicked well and it's not been a problem every other lap. I get to the road crossing. There's one kilometre to go to the end of the lap. I look at my watch. I'm at 52:30 to here. A sub 7:30 km? I haven't done one of those for at least two hours. I break in to a slow trot anyway. Down to the last part of the valley, and then climb back up the switchbacks. Always the bloody switchbacks.
"COME ON BILLY!!!" someone calls out from the finish.
"Yeah, I'm going as fast as I can now" I mumble. I don't think I'll get this done in time. I've not got a lot left in the legs now, but I'm not going to walk it in. Hike up, and roll down. Again and again and again. Off in the darkness, I can hear Felix calling the runners on the mic.
"ONE MINUTE TO THE NEXT LAP"
Nope, I won't make it. I'm happy and sad all at the same time.
"THREE! TWO! ONE! GO!"
That's that then. I trot up the hill, I can see the last tree. in to the light I run, and tap out. I'm about 90 seconds late. It's my first DNF, but that was the whole point anyway, wasn't it? I've got my distance PB, thanks Shaun. And I'm proud of myself.
I stumble about in a bit of a daze - I've not eaten much over the last three hours. I collect my spoon and go sit in front of the fire. Hel pushes a drink in to my hand. She asks if I want the beer I'd been saving for three months just for this. I do. Then I start to shiver. It's all a bit surreal. I wrap myself in my special Avengers quilt, and drift off. I dunno, maybe the whole thing has been a dream...
Birdy's backyard. 7 laps (timed out on 8). DNF.
https://www.strava.com/activities/2685866610
White Rabbit: “Sometimes, just one second.” - Lewis Carroll; Alice in Wonderland
It's sometime after 2am. I'm in what I have not-so lovingly christened "the rabbit warren", I'm cold, and I'm unhappy. I hate this section of the course the most. The rest of the course I can deal with, but this part really gets my goat. I don't know why. But at this point right now I just want to get warm. I'm starting to lose the feeling in my fingers and really wish I had spent more time searching for a pair of gloves in the city before the drive out. I start walking with my hands in my pockets, and when I do break out in to a slow run and have to take the hands out no amount of flexing and blowing on them helps. I can see lights flicker in and out, but I'm not sure if they're headlamps from the other runners in front on the switchback or the reflective course marking tape. All I can do is keep moving and know that it would all be over soon...
It all started with Facebook message from Shaun..."Congratulations!!!" it said, "You are one of the invitees for the inaugural running of Birdy's Backyard Ultra!!!!!!"
I was a little taken aback, Why me? And WTF is a backyard ultra? Apparently, it's a pretty big thing. Thanks Laz, you jerk. It didn't take long to say yes, and the invite was kind of a catalyst for this stupid 5 ultras in 5 months thing I'm currently undertaking. The mental planning wasn't hard; turn up, run some laps, DNF. A few some laughs along the way. But most of all, HAVE FUN! The plan for training was also pretty simple: by adding a little spur on to the Mt Clarence parkrun track I could get 6.7km with about 130 - 140m of elevation. Early reports had said we would be looking around that for the Birdy course. Three of those on a Saturday morning along with the usual training load, a couple of night runs and Robert's your father's brother. But like Agent Smith in The Matrix Reloaded, the course vert grew exponentially as the event grew closer. 170 ... 190 ... 200 ... the race email a few days before the start settled on 250m. Jesus, what the hell man?! And then there was the course shape itself. Either someone strapped a GPS to Felix, told him to go for a walk and then used that trace as a template, or a drunk epileptic with a crayon did some freehand work. Either way there were a LOT of turns. Just what have I gotten myself in to now?
"Yeah, I put a bit of pepper on that one." The turd, he doesn't even look like he's done a thing.
"About 44 minutes , Jesus Ben" says Hel.
" I feel like shit." I say "I think I'm going to pull the pin. I was going great, I was running with Margie and Kylie and Jen and feeling stro..."
"Hang on. You were running with Margie?" interrupts Ben
"Yeah. I was feeling really good and the pace was comfortable. Then I started to feel sick and nearly vommed"
Ben just stares at me.
"Dude, please hear the words from my mouth right now. DO. NOT. TRY. AND. KEEP. PACE. WITH. THE. WORLD. 100KM. CHAMPIONSHIP. RUNNER. Come on, you're good for a few more, I'll run you through this one."
"But I don't wan..."
"GET YOUR ARSE OUT THERE!"
Silence
"RUNNERS, THREE MINUTES TO THE NEXT LAP"
"Ok..."
We walk to the corral...
 |
| Nervous? You can tell? |
My friend Helen has offered to crew for the event. She's not done anything like this before. She's started training for 6 Inch in December and wants to get a handle on everything ultra related. Oh boy, is she in for a surprise. I'm staying at her place before we head out to the campsite, and she's grilling me on what I'll need for nutrition and how we're going to get it all done. I dunno, just wing it I guess. *Mental note: don't wing it*. I get what now appears to be the traditional pre-event crap night of sleep, and we get going early - I want to set up the camper and chill before the event. The drive to Birdy's goes quickly, and all of a sudden we're there. Parking up, I'm amazed how stunning the area is. And how hilly. The campsite/event area is right on top of the hill, and it slopes off sharply both sides. I send Shaun a message telling him he's an utter bastard and wait for him to get back from walking the course. People start arriving in dribs and drabs. We're all nervous. Shaun is back and we busy ourselves setting up camp. Helen demands that I eat and drink properly, and eventually we're sorted. Now we wait. Harmony and her daughter Juliet arrive, and set up next door. Then Ben rocks in, casually asks who's setup this is and then happily takes up my offer of using it as his base too. All in all it's a happy little campsite.
 |
| Well. shit. |
"Spiky tree number eight" "Sharp rocky turn four" "Steep downhill twenty seven"
We're coming out of the creek run, and have a couple of water crossings to go. Everyone has paused to try and pick a dry line over while I come barrelling up and hurdle over, all the while singing the Nintendo Mario Bros. theme. I hear people laughing. Off I go again, but now I'm shooting off ahead making more Super Mario sound effects.
"He's found an invincible star!" Ben yells. I decide to go with it, right up to the point where a tree branch clocks me right on the shoulder. And that hurt. The star has worn off obviously.
"Watch out for that branch!" I say.
"WHAT?!" "OW, FUCK!" "AAAAAAHHH!" Too late, the branch has claimed some more victims. They won't be the last. But at least my socks are dry for now...
 |
| Beautiful and brutal, and one of the rare straight sections |
At 3pm, there's a run through of the course so we can familiarise ourselves with the twists and turns. Felix is leading us out. If ever there was a recipe for disaster, this would be it - #felixnav is a thing in the WA trail running community because of him. Oh well, what's the worst that can happen? Teh 40 or so runners, plus crew all crowd in to the starting corral and we head off, down to the first series of switchbacks. Later, someone comments there was close to 100 turns on the course. I think they were right. It's twisty and turny and up and down like a yo-yo. Surprisingly, we don't get lost. It's been flagged pretty heavily, and rightly so.
 |
| Not Felix's best angle tbh... |
"I've got a spare pair if you want Bill" Harmony says.
"Can I borrow then?"
"Sure. But I warn you, they're loud and pink."
"I don't think that's going to be an issue H..." I gesture at myself, I'm currently wearing pink calf and arm sleeves.
 |
| Twinsies |
I can hear the music from, quite literally, a mile away. Not much of this lap left, and I don't actually mind this part of the course. My toes are wet from the last creek crossing, but the socks have wicked well and it's not been a problem every other lap. I get to the road crossing. There's one kilometre to go to the end of the lap. I look at my watch. I'm at 52:30 to here. A sub 7:30 km? I haven't done one of those for at least two hours. I break in to a slow trot anyway. Down to the last part of the valley, and then climb back up the switchbacks. Always the bloody switchbacks.
"COME ON BILLY!!!" someone calls out from the finish.
"Yeah, I'm going as fast as I can now" I mumble. I don't think I'll get this done in time. I've not got a lot left in the legs now, but I'm not going to walk it in. Hike up, and roll down. Again and again and again. Off in the darkness, I can hear Felix calling the runners on the mic.
"ONE MINUTE TO THE NEXT LAP"
Nope, I won't make it. I'm happy and sad all at the same time.
"THREE! TWO! ONE! GO!"
That's that then. I trot up the hill, I can see the last tree. in to the light I run, and tap out. I'm about 90 seconds late. It's my first DNF, but that was the whole point anyway, wasn't it? I've got my distance PB, thanks Shaun. And I'm proud of myself.
I stumble about in a bit of a daze - I've not eaten much over the last three hours. I collect my spoon and go sit in front of the fire. Hel pushes a drink in to my hand. She asks if I want the beer I'd been saving for three months just for this. I do. Then I start to shiver. It's all a bit surreal. I wrap myself in my special Avengers quilt, and drift off. I dunno, maybe the whole thing has been a dream...
 |
https://www.strava.com/activities/2685866610
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