The Moonwalk

 

The Moonwalk. 45km, 7 hours, 2200m of ascent and all of it in the dead of night.

At the start of this charity event Damian Richmond from Hope Builders told the assembled field about a young Ugandan girl. She was found collecting scrap metal on a tip. She would sell it to survive. This was her life. This is what she would do every day. When Hope Builders found her and took her in they also discovered that she had typhoid. In Uganda typhoid is basically a death sentence. If she had not been rescued from her life as it was, she would not be alive today.

Listening to Damien was a moment and a memory that will stay with me, and the 90 other walkers/runners, for a long, long time. An event like this does that. It generates memories.

The memories started several months ago when a casual chat with my boss got us on to what the year 5/6’s at our school could focus on for their fundraising efforts this year. I suggested Go The Extra Mile and got in touch with Peter Jackel from ‘GTEM’ to see what we could do. Couple of chats, couple of emails and we launched the 50km School’s Walk, to be held during the month of November, to the kids. The connection is the key. My kids listened and connected to the story of these kids in Uganda. Money started pouring in. All I did was ask the question every day. “Does anybody want to throw some change Uganda’s way?”

I kept telling them about the plight of these orphans and kept inviting them to be involved. One kid asked me one day, “Are you trying to make us feel guilty?” Good question. I wasn’t going for that emotion but it dawned on me that maybe these kids were really starting to question how it could be fair and reasonable that they have so much and that others have absolutely nothing. For some it wasn’t sitting so well.

I showed them this video.

 

The next day I looked in the money collection box and saw a one hundred dollar note. One of my kids had been throwing in a few coins from other countries as a bit of a joke so I thought the hunj must have been a fake. Nobody had made a big deal of the big note so it had to be a joke. I then actually held the note up to the window to look for what, I don’t really know. Later in the day other kids were throwing a few coins in and noticed the hundred. Still nobody had announced that he/she had given so much. The kids who saw the green made a big fuss about it and started asking the class. Kids came from all parts to see the note and still no fuss from the donor. They asked me who had put it in, I said I didn’t know.  Lots of chatter, lots of commotion. I looked up and among all of the noise one boy stood silent with a smile on his face. I said, “it was you, wasn’t it?” He just nodded, smiling. He had connected, gone home and asked his parents if he could use a hundred of his own saved money to donate.

That memory will last forever.

I learnt a lot about fundraising during this process. At times I was frustrated because I thought some people could be doing more, giving more. I didn’t verbalise this but just wondered why. I learnt that it really doesn’t matter why. All you can do is put it out there. It’s more about offering people an opportunity to help rather than simply asking for some cash.

So as some sections were not so involved, others were connecting so strongly and out of the blue. My son attends St Louis’ primary school and spends a fair bit of time in before and after care there. The leader of that program is a friend of my wife and was aware that I was doing the Moonwalk. She asked if she could get involved. Louise launched the idea to the kids in ‘Afters’ and like a fighting Marlin they latched on and they were off. Kids ranging from 5-12 years got involved in 3 big fundraising efforts. These kids who are in and out of each other’s company at the tired ends of the day came together and did something really special.

They raised more money than Afters has ever done before. Niamh (or Neve, not sure of spelling) presented me with the heavy bag of cash and said a few really nice words. It was my turn to respond. As I started I looked around the room and noticed the connection. There were kids hanging on my every word as I told them what their efforts would mean to kids, their age, in Uganda. Their eye contact didn’t shift. Mine had to though as I almost teared up. Just fantastic kids.

That memory will last forever.

In the Moonwalk event itself, I had a great time. I absolutely loved it. This claim won’t make sense as you read on but it’s the truth. Honest, really…

I had done the same event two years ago and it did a number on me back then as well. The amount of ascent on it is equivalent to going from sea level to the top of Mt Kosciousko. All within 45km. That’s nasty. However this year it was the downhills that smashed me. I haven’t done much time in the hills this year as it’s all been about training for the marathon. I went in fit but not ‘hill fit’. Into the third of the four sections I was approaching the point of being pretty much cactus. My quads were shot to ribbons and any downhill was agony. The flats weren’t much better. Running along in the last section next to my buddy, Beardy, I said that I was almost looking forward to the last four km of the course which were all very steep uphill on single track. It did give some respite to the quads but after about a minute it was all shades of ugly again.

Going up this last stretch at 3.30am, many things went through my mind.

*The girl collecting scrap metal in Uganda,

*The smiling hundred dollar donor and

*The St Louis’ Legends of After Care.

All of these thoughts helped me keep going but I was still struggling big at times. Then without warning one of my teammates put his hand right in the middle of my back and began to push. He said if it was annoying he’d stop. It wasn’t annoying, it was freakin’ beautiful. I didn’t look back at him. We just moved on, together. Connected.

That memory will last forever.

To me this moment symbolised the whole Moonwalk event. We are raising money for kids who will never see us or know us. But we simply put a hand out, connect and move with them to a better place.

The Moonwalk saves lives in Uganda. In Australia the Moonwalk may not save lives but it has definitely changed the lives of many. I am one of these.

 

Three Women - Three Stories - One Race

“I always loved running – it was something you could do by yourself, and under your own power. You could go in any direction, fast or slow as you wanted, fighting the wind if you felt like it, seeking out new sights just on the strength of your feet and the courage of your lungs.”~Jesse Owens

 Just on the strength of their feet and the courage in their lungs, three women from vastly different worlds did exactly the same thing on Saturday. They ran around the Tan track.

Lisa Weightman had countless Australians glued to the TV as she represented her country in the Marathon at the London Olympics just weeks ago. Lisa became just the third Australian woman to finish in the top 20 of an Olympic marathon when she took a minute off her previous best time. 2h27m = 3min29sec per km. That kind of running is phenomenal and really hard to even get your head around. What I found even more impressive was that Lisa was able to do this at the Olympics. With all of the attached adrenaline and enthusiasm, her ability and discipline to stick to a race plan is outstanding. She’s an inspiration.

On Saturday I was pushing up Anderson street during the UltraSpirit event when Lisa Weightman effortlessly floated past me. She could have been anyone out there, there was no Australian uniform, no fanfare, just a very fit woman doing exactly the same thing as everyone else.

A huge number of Australians have seen Turia Pitt on television recently too. Her courage has inspired all of them. The Ultra Spirit event on the weekend was created to support Kate Sanderson and Turia who both suffered burns to over 60% of their bodies when they were trapped by a bushfire during an ultra-marathon in the Kimberley last year. Their lives are completely different today and their days are to be filled with painful physical and emotional challenges for years to come. On Saturday morning as the group of us were laughing, jogging and chatting our way around the track we passed Turia. There she was in her full body compression suit and mask walking around the Tan. It was a highlight of the event for me and by far the most inspiring moment of all my running days. Turia ran across the finish line to much applause from all assembled. One very courageous woman, with an amazing story, doing exactly the same thing as everyone else.

Leah Opie just for the record happens to be my wife. When I told her I was writing this post she understandably felt uncomfortable about being included alongside Lisa and Turia. However for me she provides the perfect example of why I love running. Leah began training just 6 months ago. One hundred metres at a time, to get fit and healthy for her kids and herself.  On Saturday she ran two full laps of the Tan without stopping, not even up Anderson street did she walk. Her nerves before the event were shot and she was less than impressed with my far too relaxed attitude leading into the race. I asked her if she wanted me to run with her. Ahh, that would be a definite No! At the finish line Leah's trainer (below) and I were doing the math on her expected time of arrival and figured she was maybe seven minutes away. We looked down along the Tan track and there she was already running strongly towards a smashing of her longest ever event. The smile on her face was ear to ear. The tears in my eyeballs were pushing hard. We hugged at the end, so happy with a great result. One very determined woman doing exactly the same as everyone else.

 

You can be an Olympian, a survivor, a mum or an anyone. If you run, you’ll inspire someone, somewhere. That’s just a fact.

This is why I love running. We all bring our personal stories to the start line, we stand there completely unique and yet when we run, we are exactly the same.

Oh yeah, and it’s just so so fun.

 

To support Turia and Kate, donations can be made via the following link.

http://makingadifference.gofundraise.com.au/page/ultraspirit

I'm Not Stopping Today

Georgia: 6.30am, Sunday at the Sandy Point Half

 

This is Georgia. She is eleven years old (today) and she is………….. a RUNNER!!!

I met Georgia about six months ago when she started coming along to our Friday Running Club. She told me yesterday, “I sucked at running and wanted to get fitter so I could run long.”

When any new kids join up my only hope is that they enjoy what we do and that they keep coming back. I wasn’t sure at the start if Georgia was enjoying herself. It all seemed like hard work and she was struggling to keep on the jog for any great stretch of time. I think sometimes that can be hard to deal with when you see others flying around the oval. In her own words she found it ‘really hard and didn’t want to be there,’ but she kept coming back.

Runners of all ages and abilities make the same mistake. We compare ourselves to other runners who go faster or further or both. Real improvement and enjoyment begins the moment the runner starts to focus on themselves more, and not worry about others so much. It’s ok to look to others for inspiration but we should never look at others and then devalue what we are doing ourselves.  Georgia might have done that in the early days but it didn’t last long. Other runners will now be looking at her for inspiration.

I’ve heard people say, “yeah but it’s not that fast really”, after they have achieved a personal best time over a particular distance. It may not be fast compared to Usain Bolt but a PB is the absolute fastest the runner has ever, ever gone in their whole life. That is something to be celebrated even if it’s a ten minute km. I’ve even heard great runners who have won events or placed in their age group say things like there wasn’t many in the field or the really fast guys weren’t there today. The point of it however should always be, did you give it your all? Did you work hard? Georgia does both.

In nearly every training run and definitely in every event the demon in the mind asks the question. “Right at this moment, are you strong enough?”  If you answer in the affirmative then you will run well. Georgia always beats the demon. If you beat the demon, you win. *Beware though: the demon might just ask the question more than once in a run.

On Sunday Georgia ran the Sandy Point 5km. She lined up by herself in a field of 500+. Probably 490 of them older than her and bigger than her. About half an hour before the race she told me she felt nervous and excited but when she lined up for the gun, at that moment, it was all nerves. It must have been a daunting task.

The first 3km Georgia felt good but in the fourth km she was heading into new territory. She’d done more than 3km in a session before but always with a few breaks. This time she was running head on into pain, no stopping. You could understand her walking a bit, taking a break and recharging but she did not walk one step in the whole event.

She said. “I really started getting tired in the last km but I sprinted at the end. I was so happy, so tired and so relieved”

I didn’t see Georgia after the event and wondered how she had gone. Walking across the oval at school on Monday morning I spotted her. She had one arm in the air pumping her fist.

“I did it! I did it!

She sure did. What a champion.

I reckon there’s a moment when people who are new to running, start asking questions. Am I enjoying this? Will I ever be good at this? Why am I doing this?

Running is challenging. Not everyone sticks at it. If it was easy everyone would run marathons or 5km events or ultras etc…

There have been kids who have come to Running Club once or twice and then given it away. Some have come for months and then disappeared. Georgia could have easily been one of those. But she still turns up every week. That’s the key.

There was one defining moment when it clicked for me that this girl is a runner. We were jogging around the course at school, some of it was uphill and up a flight of stairs. The task was to keep moving round the course for twenty minutes. If you needed to walk then you walk with purpose and pick a point ahead where you will start running again. Georgia had been a runner/walker but on this day it changed. I ran alongside her and gave her the spiel about it’s ok to walk, just get going again………..

Georgia looked at me and said,

“I’m not stopping today.”

She hasn’t stopped since.

On This Day, Sunday June 3, 2012

On this day some ordinary, everyday people completed one of the toughest rail runs that Victoria has to offer. The Mt Macedon 50km trail run was taken on by people from all walks. I’ve been on ‘training’ runs with several of the pointy end finishers. Apart from being passionate about a sport that involves hours of pain they are all very normal. Anyone in this world could complete Macedon but most just simply choose not to. That’s ok, it’s not everyone’s cuppa. Those normal people who do this have to work hard in training every day to be capable of the feat. It’s their choice.

On this day in glorious Traralgon a 42 year old known as Shape was running his debut marathon. Mere months ago he was hovering around the 100kg mark. Not a great shape for marathons. He chose to train hard even when many around him probably thought he was no chance. He got injured just before Melbourne mara, scratched himself, got right and started training all over again. And on this day he chooses to run in Traralgon. No big MCG finish, no great amounts of friends and family looking on. On this day he just goes out and achieves his goal.

On this day it’s a rest day for a mum and wife who ran two kms, non-stop, yesterday for the first time in her life. Tomorrow morning she will wake at 5.30am to be ready to run with her trainer. Her trainer is one of those pointy end finishers at Macedon. It’s not easy to be up so early. It’s not easy to get out and run further than ever before by yourself. It’s a choice.

On this day a dad and his daughter ran together in the ten km event at Macedon. This young girl ran just seconds over sixty minutes on a hilly trail in very cold conditions, coming in first for the juniors and was fifth female overall. She chooses to train to be capable. Her dad, a relatively normal bloke, likes to run for many, many hours at a time. On this day his daughter achieved a great result, partly because one day her dad decided to be a runner.

On this day I went for a ten km run along Mordialloc Beach. By chance I met up with an old friend from school who was out for 20-25kms by himself. He’s hoping to run the Melbourne marathon in October. He’s also going to welcome his first child into the world in just three weeks time. One day that little baby may just run alongside her dad in an event somewhere.

On this day, on my way back home, I ran along the path towards Mordialloc Pier. Two young guys were walking towards me. They moved apart so that I could run in between them but their eyes were trained on me in way that didn’t feel quite right. I wasn’t scared but I was curious and a little wary. I looked at the taller one and then to the smaller one.

On this day, in broad daylight, with me only a metre away, the smaller one had his face in a plastic bag. The bag was inflating and deflating. On this day his choice was chroming.

I can’t be sure, but I don’t think his parents were out on the trails today.

Being engaged and active in our kids’ lives is a choice. I’m sure the choice makes a difference.

Marysville to Melbourne

M2M = Marysville to Melbourne = 19km run, 50km ride, 41km ride, 14km run, 16km paddle and 15km paddle. Team Fully SLYK = 3 blokes over 40 years of age.

Cyclists get a bad rap. Start listing the reasons why and you may never stop. Beach Rd monster packs taking up two lanes; training sessions that involve sitting and rolling; parking at coffee shops taking in double the amount of calories that the ride will drop; and of course, lycra.

On the other side of cycling is the kind of stuff that Cadel does. Now Marysville aint quite the Pyrenees but I still saw some pretty unbelievable stuff on the weekend. Massive amounts of cyclists were hurting hard as they climbed some ugly gradient around Kinglake. I was getting driven from the end of my 19km trail run leg to the start of my 14km run leg when we went past a lot of these riders. We pulled up next to Austin, a young fella from my school as he was pushing uphill.

Kid couldn’t speak, he was working that hard, but he also couldn’t stop smiling.  We then found my team mate Andy a few kms further along and going up a nasty piece of ascent. This was no roll along Beach rd with a view to a latte, it was brutal. With every up there must be down but going down those hills is not exactly a walk in the park either. Come off at speed and it’s all shades of serious hospital time. Full respect to all riders in the M2M.

My own day kicked off at 6.30am in the main street of Marysville. I stood next to Sam and Matt, two more young blokes from school, and Sam’s dad Mark who was filling in for a late injury to a member of one of the 8 teams our school had entered. It was great to be part of it. Great to see the nerves and excitement of the boys who were going to run further than they ever had before, and they were going to do it on trail in hills. Super effort to even sign up for it.

Sam and Matt took off like it was a 5km school cross country event. If I wanted to, I couldn’t have kept up. Sam settled after a few kms and I spotted him a short way ahead. The next time I would see Matt however was at transition. He smashed it. Unbelievable running, and a bright future in the sport if he chooses to revisit the hills at any stage. It took a while but I was able to catch Sam and we ran together for several kms. This young gun gave me a lesson in the beep test last year when he was in year 7 and like Matt has got outstanding ability and good times ahead as a runner.

We were moving along nicely battling a few ups but pulling it back together on the flats. You would think the more experienced one would know when to keep his mouth shut but NO. I was the one to count chickens and say to Sam, “I reckon that’s the last of the steep stuff for a while.” Two minutes later we were slapped in the face by an ugly, ugly ascent. Ouch.

After ten km Sam was feeling the pinch and said for me to go on. Now this is a young kid we are talking about, let’s not lose sight of that fact. He took a few moments at the top of another sharp hill, he was then actually physically ill, went as pale as a sheet and then just started up again and continued on for another 9km. I didn’t quite hear what he said to Austin on the bike in transition but I reckon there may have been an expletive thrown in there when describing what he’d just been through. It was one of the most courageous runs I’ve ever seen. Meanwhile back in Melbourne it’s just past 8am Sunday and ‘normal’ kids are still in bed.

After finishing my run I handed over to Andy and he did the tough stuff as mentioned above. I then started the logistical marathon to get to the next run leg before Andy did. Mark weaved past cyclists as he drove me and Pete (photographer on the day) back to the accommodation at Kinglake. Scoffed down a couple of jam sandwiches, a banana and a Gatorade, changed socks and trail runners for road runners then jumped in Pete’s car to get going. Meanwhile Mark was loading up his boat on some roof racks on another car to get to T4 to take the timing tag from me after my second run. They don’t actually call them boats though, it’s more like ski or craft or somethin’, I was learning a bit as part of this team. So Mark was doing all of this after running 19km in the hills for another team. Andy and I had given him strict instructions to cruise the 19 so he was ready for our team’s 31km paddle.

My second run leg was a bit of a worry. I wanted to have a crack at it but I had seized pretty severely after sitting in the car and was struggling to walk without pain. I tried to get into a shuffle from the car to the transition area then started stretching thinking I had a bit of time to loosen up. But just five minutes after being in position, in flew rider 178. Andy had ridden the gears off the thing and put us in a great position. Marysville to Melbourne has a stack of different categories. We were classed as a 3 Person Veteran Team and as such were a chance to podium in that small, select field.

On leaving the checkpoint I was shocked that my legs just kicked into gear and I felt pretty good. It was a strange leg to run. I was passing quite a few individual entries who were slowing after already completing over 110km. Then others, doing just the single leg in six man teams, were going past me like I was standing still. I just tried to hit a rhythm somewhere between 4.10 and 4.30 kms. Everything was going great but as soon as I started believing the hype in my head I began sensing the possibility of cramp. I slowed a little and was able to hold it together. When I thought I still had a km to go I popped up over a little hill to see the transition right there. I was over the moon.

Sam had made a great recovery from his run and was next to me straight away, helping to get the timing band off my ankle and on to his dad. He then helped Mark carry the craft into the water and pushed him away on to his 31 km journey to Docklands. I was happy to be finished my part and was keen on some dry clothes, coffee and food.

It was a bit strange with the race still going on but, really at this point, I had nothing more to do with it. Mark was pushing into pain and I was cruising around town trying to fill some time. I ended up going over to a mates place, drinking more coffee and then finally made my way to the finish line. Mark had just arrived and had crossed the line, hand in hand, arms raised, with his other son Jack who had also paddled both Yarra legs for one of the other school teams. Our team, Fully Slyk, had crossed the line in second place for our category, Jack’s team finished first in the juniors and Sam’s team second. Not a bad day for the family.

Marysville to Melbourne is a ripping event, I loved it. Best part though was seeing parents, kids and teachers all come together and share a day of pain and exultation. Pretty amazing culture at the joint these days.

Canberra Race Report

Six days on from the Canberra marathon and like a tough pregnancy/birth I have almost forgotten the pain. The story started immediately after the Melbourne mara last October. I had just run 3.39, my slowest result of four attempts. I was on the phone to the Tuckman. The Tuckman lives in the capital and during our conversation we set our sights on both of us running P.B’s at the Australian Running Festival on April 15^th 2012.

To get from my slowest to fastest was going to take something different to how I had trained in the past. So I spoke to a fairly reasonable runner friend about putting together a 12 week program for me and Tuckman to tackle. He did just that and from mid January we were running with purpose every time we stepped out the door. That fairly reasonable runner won Oxfam 100km yesterday in a record time. Yeah he goes ok, so we were obviously pretty confident he knew what he was talking about with this program.

The program was amazing every day was different. There were speed sessions, cruisey recovery runs, marathon pace kms and the hardest but most important runs were the long runs. In the past my long run was just about covering the distance. This time I was introduced to the long run/fast finish. Eg. 34km might look like first 24km at 4.50 – 5.10 per km pace. Then the last ten at marathon pace ie: 4.25 per km. They were just plain hard work. But the beauty of it was every hard run was followed by an easy day.

I found that after four or five weeks my fitness levels had gone through the roof and the excitement started to build. The goal of sub 3h10m was becoming a bit more realistic.

On race day everything was in place. Tuckman and I had spent the previous day on the couch punting, watching footy, carb loading and hydrating. Tuckman’s far better half Fairley works 3 minutes from the start line. So after our day of rest we also had the luxury of a toilet each for the last minute preparation of the temple. As it turned out my timing on that aspect of the process was out by a mere 26.5km. More on that later.

On the start line we were super excited. There was handshakes and hugs between the two of us and a pretty strong belief that a good day lay ahead. My race plan had me going at 4.24 per km so when I went past the 1^st km marker and saw those exact digits on the garmin I felt like the gods were on my side. Tuckboy moved away from me after about 4km. It was never our intention to run together. Both of us enjoy getting into a chat free solo zone. Running together can sometimes give you too much to worry about, it’s enough to battle your own demons.

I found myself hitting it like a metronome as we circled Parliament House. Julia could have popped her head out but must have had other stuff on her plate. Went past the Aboriginal Embassy, Tony Abbot came to mind, it’s amazing what goes through your head on the run. Although I don’t like to chat too much I do take notice of who is around me. There was a guy and a girl running near me that just wouldn’t shut up. It was slightly amusing, slightly annoying. I overheard the guy’s life story and found out that he was debuting as a marathoner.  I was confident he would quieten down, at the latest, in the 30’s but I couldn’t wait that long. I tacked on to a fit half marathoner who was going a bit quicker than my plan but she dragged me away from the over-talker.

Ten km went by in 44 minutes and all was well. The course had quite a few hills in it. They weren’t heartbreak style but as you did a couple of out and back loops, these hills kept appearing. They did take a bit out of me but nothing to cause great angst or panic. At each turnaround I was able to give and receive a shout out with the Tuckman. He had hyper extended his knee just seven days ago and went in mildly concerned that all the hard work was going to be wasted. But when I saw him about the 17-18km mark he looked well in control and on the way to a smashing.

Everything was travelling well for me but for one concern. Each time I took on sports drink I got a bit of grief in the guts. If I didn’t take on the electrolytes I risked hitting the wall later on. But the immediate risk of crook guts could be a disaster. What to do?

I went away from the sports and started taking on water and for a few kms I felt that things had settled. However things can change in a matter of steps and at the 26km things went from zero to a hundred in seconds and I had to find a toilet. At the time I was on a main road with people everywhere, not a toilet or even a tree in sight. I was in trouble. Then like an oasis in the desert I spotted my only possible chance. In the distance was a group of trees that might just work. I prayed that it not be a mirage. So at 26.5km for the first time in my running career I stepped off the course and into the Pits. Formula One teams would be happy with the time spent, I was back on track in the blink of an eye-ish and had avoided the need for the Decastella sponge. The k between 16 and 17 took 4.38.

From that point I pushed a bit and got back into a great rhythm. I was relaxed and hitting sub 4.30min kms without too much hurt. Kms started to disappear as I slid past the 30km mark kind of hoping my body wouldn’t notice that this is when things get hard. At the final turn around I could see the Tuckman just ahead of me. I thought with a bit of a push I it might be possible to catch up to him but I was there to go under 3.10 and didn’t want to risk blowing up. If I just held it together, the ball would be in my own court. Plenty of time to catch up later.

All through the last ten kms I was waiting for my pace to drop, I was waiting for it to get horrific. That’s just how marathons are meant to be. But the program we had gone through was brilliant. With 4kms to go I knew sub 3.10 was in the bag. It was still hurting but I was able to enjoy the last stretch. Approaching the finish I looked at my watch and everything was freakin’ beautiful. I crossed the line in 3 hours 8 minutes and embraced the Tuckman who had crossed in 3.07. This was our premiership.

Now the only real issues are……Where am I going to find an extra 8 minutes and, are there any trees at 26.5 on the Melbourne course?

Day After Day After Day

Today I find myself on the couch. On the couch after 14km that included 6.2km of sweet, sweet speed. For the last eight weeks I have followed a running program to the letter. The program will hopefully have me set for a PB at the Canberra Marathon on April 15. The beauty of the program is that every week there are fresh challenges. This week has been great fun already and there’s more to come. On Saturday I will be doing a 34km run with the last 10km at marathon pace, ie: 4.28 per km.

A few weeks ago I looked at tonight’s challenge and Saturday’s long run and wondered how on Earth I would be able to even get close to completing them. The thing is when I wondered, I probably wasn’t capable, but small steps, day after day and all that sort of blah, blah, blah actually works really well.

So many times in the past I have made new year type resolutions or wished that by a certain stage I would be bigger, faster, healthier etc.. Other big plans may have included cleaning out the shed or weeding that area down the side of the house that gets ignored and turns into a jungle. So often these aims and targets have not been met. It all comes down to one reason. Wanting it and doing it are two very different things. I can’t expect to clear the jungle in one session. But if I keep going back every day, eventually it will be under control. Luckily for me I keep going back each day to do more running. Unfortunately the jungle continues to grow, guess I don’t want it enough.

What do you want that requires a commitment day after day?

I think really hard work includes an extended amount of time. In my training I find speed work to be an easier option than a long run. In both, there are the same demons in my mind telling me to stop, telling me it’s too hard and the clever demon trying to convince me that I’ve done well enough already, I don’t have to push hard for that extra 10 or 15% effort. But in the ‘long run’ the demons have more time to work me over. In the speed work they don’t have too long to do their thing. Smashing them can take seconds rather than hours.

I guess that day after day commitment is where so many slip up. It can be all too daunting. I admit to watching Biggest Loser and wonder how many of them will still be exercising several days a week this time next year.

I’ve got a few things going on with running at the moment, outside of my own training, that I hope will continue for years to come. I hope all those involved keep going back day after day.

Up until a couple of weeks ago I was coaching two kids. They got better at running and achieved great things. They went from running as little as 500m to smashing 8km and yesterday one of them won his school cross country event. That’s all fantastic but I think the best thing would be if they just continue to love running, love fitness and stay active through their teens and beyond.

My brother recently got married and on the morning of his wedding he went for a run. He is at the start of his fitness fascination. When he meets his kids one day, they’re going to have a great role model.

My school recently appointed a guy to the new position of ‘Director of Community Sport’. The school will be taking part in the Marysville to Melbourne multi-sport event. http://www.marysville2melbourne.com.au/default.aspx

There will be parents, teachers and students as young as 14 all forming teams to participate. These health and fitness opportunities are giving a bunch of people a focus and direction that will hopefully last forever, day after day.

Oh yeah, remember this bloke on the left?

He featured in a blog post over a year ago now…. http://www.running4urlife.blogspot.com.au/2011/01/success-what-is-it.html

Well he has lost 25kgs. He’s been going back day after day. Now have a look.

What Am I Doing?

That was the question that immediately entered my head at 4.50am on Sunday morning. A full double handed slap to the face and I was back on top of any negative thoughts about the day ahead. For 12 months I had been looking forward to running Two Bays again but there’s always a smattering of trepidation before any ultra. They’re never easy.

Having said that I was pretty confident going in. Marysville in November had been my best ultra yet. It still hurt but I finished strongly and felt good-ish all the way through. Two Bays is pretty flat in comparison. Arthurs Seat is the only real nasty section. One thing against me might be an interrupted few weeks of training over Christmas. Honestly I haven’t really trained with the single minded obsession that was so prevalent pre-stress fracture. That is about to change but more on that later.

Two Bays has a unique feel to it. The race director awards a priority start to anyone wearing board shorts or hawaiin shirts or lays. At the start he holds a pirate flag and explains how this event with hundreds of competitors now has only been a legal event for two years. Before that runners had to tackle the 56km while on the lookout for any official council or Parks and Gardens workers. Before it was legal it was what is known as a FAT ASS event. This means "No Fees, No Awards, No Aid, No Wimps". FAT ASS was born out of a lack of enough competitive events for passionate runners to compete in. This is no longer so much of an issue as their are heaps of events now all over Victoria and Australia to choose form. The sport is exploding.

As an example of the explosion my race time this year was 6hours 39mins. That places me 91^st out of the 142 strong field doing the 56km in 2012.  However in 2008 that same time would have placed me 5^th out of a field of just 6. The last time Two Bays ran under the pirate flag there was 66 competitors in the 28km option and 18 in the 56km option. Two years later there was 646 runners across the two distances.

Not only quantity but quality is making its way to the trails. Last year a greying 41 year old smashed the course record to win the event in 4h 48m. This year the greying, now 42 year old, broke his own record by 7 minutes. That PB placed him sixth in 2012, the winner Mick Donges getting home in 4h 12m. The sport is going nuts. Mick beat Magnus Michaelson into second. Magnus has won the Melbourne Marathon twice. NUTS!!!

My race time mentioned above was a bit disappointing. I went 25 minutes quicker the year before when I had actually run a poor race. I went out too quick and blew up severely. I also took a wrong turn that probably cost the best part of ten minutes. So I had been thinking I’d break 6 hours without too much trouble. Problem was with about 20km to go I encountered ‘too much trouble’.

Everything had been going super smooth. I wasn’t even looking at my watch too much in the first 28km. Just cruising along, not worrying about getting caught in traffic. The slower I went in the first half meant the more likely I beat last year’s time. As I rang the bell to turn on the out and back course I felt great. I remember feeling so much worse at the same time 12 months ago. So more kind of cruising with a push at the end and I was in for a great day.

You expect your legs to be hurting after 30km. Mine were feeling fresh. Just some minor discomfort and tightness across my back was hinting at a possible problem. I had experienced this before though, in some races and training, and it never got too bad. I began passing people at regular intervals and was thrilled with how the race plan was developing. It was Marysville all over again.

I’m not sure when I first realised things might be turning. It was probably somewhere between the 33 – 36km mark. But with 20km to go there was no doubt in my mind that a six hour finish was out of the question. My back had tightened up to the point that each step was painful. Twenty more kms at the pace I had now slowed to, was going to equal no less than 2 ½ hours of tough times.

What am I doing?

The questioned entered my head again for the second time that day. Then another question, What am I going to do?

The answer was simple. Small arms, small legs, over and over again. Two days prior to the event I started training/coaching a couple of kids to run endurance. For them that will be an 8km event in a couple of months. I had said to them to have small arms and legs, don’t waste energy all over the track. It was time for me to practise what I had preached. My arms always swing small. But out there with each step shooting pain up and across my back I found myself having to check my stride many times to give myself best chance of finishing. Will and Tess came in to my mind more than once. Each time I brought the task back down to what was manageable. Small arms and small legs, I could manage.

I was pretty composed throughout the ugly period of the race. Winston Churchill once said; “When you’re in hell, keep going”. There was really no other choice. A DNF is something I only want enforced upon me if absolutely medically necessary.

As I got within a couple of km of the finish I started getting pretty emotional. All I wanted to do was get to the line and see my mates who had by now already finished. It was as about this stage that the answer to the question became clear.

What am I doing?

Three years ago I was turning into this bloke.

I needed to change that for these two.

Now I am this bloke.

I am doing what I am doing because of these blokes.

Thanks.