I so enjoyed Customs on Friday that I was sure that I would be up to something in the Bush Capital Runs on Saturday - as long as I woke up before noon that is. Both Bob and I had entered the 25k events, although I thought that if I made it to the starting line, I may pull out after a short distance or turn early to do the 16k, or even grab a lift back.
In true John Harding style the event started right on time, 9:01am by my watch. The usual pangs of pain grasped my groin when starting to move, but I knew that if I stuck it out a bit more it would improve.
Well and truly at the back of the pack, I was surprised to see the PRB so far ahead, running well and easily, despite being clad in a full tracksuit. By about the 1k mark on the main trail, we started to run together, once again finding an easy companionable pace. I was surprised once again at the difference it made in running at a slower pace - even when my 'race' pace doesn't even come close to 6:00 minute/kilometres! We didn't have a need to talk, but I could quite easily and was really enjoying myself. On the flat the PRB and I held our own at the back of the pack. Whenever there was a rise however, I slowed to a tight, short, choppy shuffle. I didn't know it at the time, but the tightening of my stride early on was a harbinger of what was to develop.
The weather was perfect for a long trail run. Despite fairly heavy frost in the open areas and temperatures well below zero, it warmed uncommonly quickly to an almost balmy 7'C by 9:00am. I think I've been in Canberra too long! In his usual sweet fashion, the PRB waited for me as I struggled up the slightest rise. Those runners whom I smugly trotted past on the flat at the beginning, now whisked up and over me at this first modest hill before Campbell Park Offices. At the 1st drink station I stopped completely for a drink of icy cold water. No cup grabbed on the run like last year
The PRB's troublesome calf gave grief on the hill forming part of the Mt Ainslie Handicap Course. I kept going, attempting to maintain a Running motion, even though I was passed by walkers in the process I knew That I had to try to keep moving and that stopping would spell disaster. On the rocky downhill I managed to pick one or two of these people up, which buoyed my spirits
Soon the alleged '10k' drink station and relay change over came into view: I could see a stream of runners turning left in the near distance to complete the 16k course. Although I had (pre) entered the 25k event, I didn't think that anybody would mind if I piked out early. It was tempting, but I felt OK, if slow. Secretly I was pleased to see that my pace to this point was between 6:30 and 7:00 minute pace. This was quite a bit faster than I expected, and knowing that the worst hill was over, how bad could an extra little 9k be
After checking with Mrs Mountain Running at the drink station that I wouldn't be holding them up if I was very slow, I took the plunge and turned right onto the 25k leg. I expected to see the front runners to come whizzing past me at any time. At the equestrian crossing, a female runner I'd passed on the tricky downhill caught up to me and asked if there were any more killer mountain climbs. She was from Victoria and wasn't expecting this. She also congratulated me on my downhill technique. I do like descents'.
A couple of likely lads crossed over the horse grid; they certainty looked fit, but they looked far too relaxed to be racing the 25k. Soon, the short, sharp hills and drops of this stretch of Mt Majura took their toll on me as a small numerous of runners overtook me as I found the hills a struggle once more. My groin, always painful, now became increasingly tight and affected my stride on the right side making anything other than a shuffle impossible. I really understood what the girl meant about the hill in the other direction; this was a long slow uphill slog. From here I watched the last of those runners I had so smugly run passed on the downhill finally disappear from view as my stride became measured by a progress of centimetres.
My groin hurt, it hurt a lot, but there were no short cuts from here, it was just going to be a matter of plugging away at it. Occasionally a walker or group of walkers might come past in the other direction; here I would try to regain my composure and look OK, despite how I felt
The final few kilometres were tough, despite me knowing this stretch of trail along the back of inner north houses from Hackett and Duffy St to Campbell High, and the so keenly awaited finish. Here, in such glorious Canberra winter weather, there was an increasing sprinkling of casual walkers out enjoying the stunning day which was rapidly approaching noon.
So much for my pleasure at being so far ahead of my expected time earlier on; I knew that I would slow down considerably in the latter stages, but glancing at my watch indicated that I was 'running' at a pace of close to 15 minutes per kilometre - a slow walk at best. My groin had seized up completely by now, and movement was extremely restricted and painful. The 4, 3, 2 kilometres to go signs were welcome but coming increasing less frequently. Finally, the bright orange 1k to go sign came into view, almost instantly followed by the turnoff from the Mt Ainslie track to the back of CSIRO, and the finish. My vision was wonky here, but the sight of a very refreshed looking Aki appeared before me. I tried to appear more normal as she jogged on the spot to guide me to the finish. Nearing the finishing chute, I pulled out a burst of finishing sprint energy, which later analysis was to reveal reached a dizzyingly speedy 6:15 m/km in my final burst of speed.
My final time of 3:04:50 was immaterial, although certainly last! I'd finished. There was a great welcome from the Cool Running band of allrounder, Strewth, SpeedyGeoff and co. Aki, (bless her coolmax and thorlo double socks), broken me cups of a refreshing orange drink. I was later to find that this was Fanta, a drink I wouldn't have had for over 30 years.
Bob had long since disappeared home for a shower and then to attend a meeting. We had agreed to communicate by phone as soon as I had finished. The walk across the school oval was not only slow, but a painful shuffle of tiny baby steps. I took off my wet top and found an irritation I had been aware of and tried to ignore during the run, was in fact a giant patch of chaffing - at least 1 inch by 2 inches in the old money. My pelvic immobility meant that changing from my running tights was not going to happen easily, so I just pulled on warm gear on top.
In true John Harding style the event started right on time, 9:01am by my watch. The usual pangs of pain grasped my groin when starting to move, but I knew that if I stuck it out a bit more it would improve.
Well and truly at the back of the pack, I was surprised to see the PRB so far ahead, running well and easily, despite being clad in a full tracksuit. By about the 1k mark on the main trail, we started to run together, once again finding an easy companionable pace. I was surprised once again at the difference it made in running at a slower pace - even when my 'race' pace doesn't even come close to 6:00 minute/kilometres! We didn't have a need to talk, but I could quite easily and was really enjoying myself. On the flat the PRB and I held our own at the back of the pack. Whenever there was a rise however, I slowed to a tight, short, choppy shuffle. I didn't know it at the time, but the tightening of my stride early on was a harbinger of what was to develop.
The weather was perfect for a long trail run. Despite fairly heavy frost in the open areas and temperatures well below zero, it warmed uncommonly quickly to an almost balmy 7'C by 9:00am. I think I've been in Canberra too long! In his usual sweet fashion, the PRB waited for me as I struggled up the slightest rise. Those runners whom I smugly trotted past on the flat at the beginning, now whisked up and over me at this first modest hill before Campbell Park Offices. At the 1st drink station I stopped completely for a drink of icy cold water. No cup grabbed on the run like last year
The PRB's troublesome calf gave grief on the hill forming part of the Mt Ainslie Handicap Course. I kept going, attempting to maintain a Running motion, even though I was passed by walkers in the process I knew That I had to try to keep moving and that stopping would spell disaster. On the rocky downhill I managed to pick one or two of these people up, which buoyed my spirits
Soon the alleged '10k' drink station and relay change over came into view: I could see a stream of runners turning left in the near distance to complete the 16k course. Although I had (pre) entered the 25k event, I didn't think that anybody would mind if I piked out early. It was tempting, but I felt OK, if slow. Secretly I was pleased to see that my pace to this point was between 6:30 and 7:00 minute pace. This was quite a bit faster than I expected, and knowing that the worst hill was over, how bad could an extra little 9k be
After checking with Mrs Mountain Running at the drink station that I wouldn't be holding them up if I was very slow, I took the plunge and turned right onto the 25k leg. I expected to see the front runners to come whizzing past me at any time. At the equestrian crossing, a female runner I'd passed on the tricky downhill caught up to me and asked if there were any more killer mountain climbs. She was from Victoria and wasn't expecting this. She also congratulated me on my downhill technique. I do like descents'.
A couple of likely lads crossed over the horse grid; they certainty looked fit, but they looked far too relaxed to be racing the 25k. Soon, the short, sharp hills and drops of this stretch of Mt Majura took their toll on me as a small numerous of runners overtook me as I found the hills a struggle once more. My groin, always painful, now became increasingly tight and affected my stride on the right side making anything other than a shuffle impossible. I really understood what the girl meant about the hill in the other direction; this was a long slow uphill slog. From here I watched the last of those runners I had so smugly run passed on the downhill finally disappear from view as my stride became measured by a progress of centimetres.
My groin hurt, it hurt a lot, but there were no short cuts from here, it was just going to be a matter of plugging away at it. Occasionally a walker or group of walkers might come past in the other direction; here I would try to regain my composure and look OK, despite how I felt
The final few kilometres were tough, despite me knowing this stretch of trail along the back of inner north houses from Hackett and Duffy St to Campbell High, and the so keenly awaited finish. Here, in such glorious Canberra winter weather, there was an increasing sprinkling of casual walkers out enjoying the stunning day which was rapidly approaching noon.
So much for my pleasure at being so far ahead of my expected time earlier on; I knew that I would slow down considerably in the latter stages, but glancing at my watch indicated that I was 'running' at a pace of close to 15 minutes per kilometre - a slow walk at best. My groin had seized up completely by now, and movement was extremely restricted and painful. The 4, 3, 2 kilometres to go signs were welcome but coming increasing less frequently. Finally, the bright orange 1k to go sign came into view, almost instantly followed by the turnoff from the Mt Ainslie track to the back of CSIRO, and the finish. My vision was wonky here, but the sight of a very refreshed looking Aki appeared before me. I tried to appear more normal as she jogged on the spot to guide me to the finish. Nearing the finishing chute, I pulled out a burst of finishing sprint energy, which later analysis was to reveal reached a dizzyingly speedy 6:15 m/km in my final burst of speed.
My final time of 3:04:50 was immaterial, although certainly last! I'd finished. There was a great welcome from the Cool Running band of allrounder, Strewth, SpeedyGeoff and co. Aki, (bless her coolmax and thorlo double socks), broken me cups of a refreshing orange drink. I was later to find that this was Fanta, a drink I wouldn't have had for over 30 years.
Bob had long since disappeared home for a shower and then to attend a meeting. We had agreed to communicate by phone as soon as I had finished. The walk across the school oval was not only slow, but a painful shuffle of tiny baby steps. I took off my wet top and found an irritation I had been aware of and tried to ignore during the run, was in fact a giant patch of chaffing - at least 1 inch by 2 inches in the old money. My pelvic immobility meant that changing from my running tights was not going to happen easily, so I just pulled on warm gear on top.
Gutsy run FD. Re: your chaffing - ouch ! By the way, a friend of a friend ;) uses CURASH baby powder on his chaffing. Works a treat ! :)
Lol! I love your write up! Those socks may not be so blessed...but they certainly are holy!
Hey You 'done good' kiddo! It was quite exciting watching you come in and knowing you had made it and run all the way. It was a great write-up and really told the story well - you really are an inspiration.
Relay Leg, 16km, Bugger them, let's do the 25km instead.
What a trooper.
Ouch! that spike on the altitude map hurt
So do crappy spam comments from "anonymous".
That course looks so much easier in bright pink!
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