WAYNE GREGORY'S 100 MILE

This being only my second 'big' ultra, I was very fortunate to be involved in a team atmosphere with my GBH colleagues Virtual and Horrie.

The availability of these guys to bounce some ideas around with was very beneficial and served to keep us all focused on the goal. In particular I owe a big 'muchos gracias' to Virtual for his in-depth research and planning in putting together a very sound and achievable race plan, based on past performances by a wide cross-section of runners.

The fact that he was very willing to share this information says heaps, and was truly appreciated. I recall that after looking at and interpreting what he had prepared during a pre-race meeting, I was very impressed, and said to him “mate, I feel like you have just given me the key to the lolly jar.” I’m a real believer in preparation, but Virtual takes it to a whole new level, and to have access to his bank of experience was a great learning exercise in itself. Thanks again Brendan.

So feeling quietly confident, Horrie and I arrived at the Glasshouse Mountains on Thursday, two days before the event, amidst the first rain in about 14 months, and it was bucketing down. We attempted to view some of the course with local identity UCB-Undercover Brother-Dave, but gave it up as a bad joke after an hour or so, as there was little traction for the vehicles on the muddy and slippery fire-trails and dirt roads. Thanks anyway UCB, you made us feel very welcome.

We headed north up the road (passing huge billboards featuring Steve Irwin’s big grinning dial - RIP mate) to the Beerwah Pub, a highly commendable establishment where we did a bit of carbo-loading. Quite a bit, actually. Friday morning saw us head out between rain squalls with the Team Mellum guys – Spud, T-Bone and Whippet. We drove out to Wildhorse Mountain and ran about 11 kms of the course, checking out some of the dodgy areas where one could get lost during the race. Funnily enough, Spud and Horrie still managed to become 'geographically challenged' during the event, at two of the exact locations we had reconnoitred. Nice one guys.

We closed out Friday with last-minute shopping for secret race food at Caboolture and the pre-race briefing at Beerburrum School, where it was great to catch up with and meet the other runners. Back at our camp at Holiday Village, our crew Tesso & Clairie arrived and took over, sending us off to bed early. I got the bunk underneath Horrie, with Virtual taking the single bed in the same small confines. We all found it hard to sleep, like kids on a big adventure. Each time Horrie ‘passed wind,’ I would poke him in the back from the bottom bunk, at which he would jump, and we would all break out in fits of childish giggling.

After a few hours restless sleep, I woke at 3.a.m, just in time to give Horrie another nudge, which set us all off laughing again, wide awake, and we knew that our big day had begun. We commented that we had heard no rain at all overnight, which should allow the course to dry out a little. Sure enough, right on cue, the heavens opened up about 5 minutes later in a huge rainstorm. Oh well. (Fortunately, that was the last rain we saw for the duration of our stay). A quick coffee and then the 3km trip down the road to the school: deposited the drop-bags for each aid station and had a light breakfast.

5:30a.m, and off we went. The first loop out to Check Point 1A (CP1A) and back to the school was very social, chatting to many other runners and trying to settle into the proper comfortable rhythm. Then it was up the first mountain, and back down, trying to be nice to the quads on the steep descent.

The next section of the course took us along some open easy-running fire trails with gentle rolling hills, nothing serious, and back onto a nice single walking track for a few kms before exiting onto more fire trail. In reality, this is probably as good as it gets when really ‘settling in’ to a big ultra …. plenty of easy non-technical kilometers to allow a good hydration & nutrition strategy to fully integrate into the plan, with nothing much else to concentrate on beside the spectacular scenery.

Once through this gentle introduction, ‘Weet-Bix Hill’ and ‘The Goat Track’ sections quickly alter any misconceptions that the race is going to all be easy. Physically demanding, they pose a test of strength and agility, and this was compounded by the incredibly slippery mud from the recent rains. The footing in some areas was best termed ‘treachorous.’ After running solo for much of the event so far, it was nice to catch up with Hermie in this section, and swap some encouragement with another competitor.

This testing section took us around the base of a lookout, and into a big climb that led us out onto a fire trail and from there to CP6. After topping up supplies, we meandered down a gentle gradient on an attractive leafy dirt road for a km or two before crossing a few minor creeks, which I imagine would normally have been dry. This section led us onto a further dirt road, which in turn deposited us at the top of the rather daunting descent into 'The Powerlines.'

If I thought the footing was difficult on previous sections of the course, well this section redefined the term. Imagine leaping downhill from one peaked ridge to another, combating gravity, with about a 1.5 or 2 metre drop-off on either side, the footing on these ridges alternating between crumbly loose fine gravel and slick slippery muddy ooze. Yep, very technical. Prayer helped.

On reaching the bottom of each of these descents, one then had the joy of going uphill, which in some parts was close to impossible. You would arrive at the base of a small climb of say 40 metres, and attempt to indentify an upward path through the incredible muddy sludge that looked perhaps remotely achievable. Usually, all you could discern were the slip, slide and scrape marks of other peoples failed attempts. On a few occasions I found myself stuck halfway on these climbs, with no traction for the feet and starting to slide slowly back to the bottom. I hit on the idea of using my fingers like ice-picks and sinking them into the muddy walls on either side of me to at least hold my position. What was bloody hilarious was that on closer inspection, these muddy walls looked like swiss cheese, with perfect finger-holes dotted upwards along each side, left by previous runners! It was comforting to know that it wasn’t just yourself having difficulties.

The Powerlines took us up one final steep climb and onto a road through some rural property. A few kms of easier running led to CP8. In hindsight, I believe the section CP6 to CP8 was the toughest section in the event, and a good one to have in the bank.

On arrival at CP8 I was joined from behind by the fast-closing Whippet and T-Bone. We enjoyed a brief stop and all left together for the first of the two loops that start & finish back at CP8. After a brief downhill, we alighted onto a flat dirt road, little-used and soft underfoot. Running together, the three of us had a nice pace happening, and soon I was contemplating a brief walk break. A minute later, as if on cue, T-Bone announced he was going to walk for a while, and Whippet eased up with him. My reaction then was to keep going, and once out of sight, I picked up the pace a bit.

The surrounding bush along this enjoyable flat section was very eye-catching, and after passing a few horse-riders, the course soon diverted off onto a trail with several sharp hills and creek crossings. It was about the third such crossing that I caught sight of another competitor up ahead (Roger Guard) and in that split second of non-concentration took what would be my first of four falls. I was running a fast downhill toward a small creek at the time, and while not serious, it may well have been much worse, as I landed on the soft creek-bed with my left knee smacking into a boulder. I got up and looked behind me, thankful that T-Bone & Whippet weren’t in sight to have caught my mishap. I’m sure they would have found it highly entertaining.

I managed to pass Roger leading back into CP8, and after a quick fuel-up set off for the second loop. Shortly after leaving I stuffed around for 5-10 minutes thinking I had gone off-course, as I hadn’t seen any of the usual marking tape hanging from the trees for about a kilometer. I backtracked, not finding any connecting trails, so headed off again in my original direction. Sure enough, just around the next bend from where I had first stopped, was a piece of tape. Phew, what a relief.

Just before completing this loop, I met Mr G, who was completing the first loop. We travelled together back to CP8, with the big fella kind enough to share some special insights with me.

From CP8 it was more dirt road and good running, interspersed with some nice single-file walking track and dense bush leading into checkpoints 7 and back to 6 (I think?). Roger had caught up with me and we had run several kms together before reaching this checkpoint, which was a mental breakthrough, as it was 82 kms into the run, just over half-way. Roger had a really quick exit from here, and that was the last I saw of him until much later. As I left the checkpoint, having changed shoes & hat, I scanned the road a long way ahead, up a daunting hill, but Roger had shown a very clean pair of heels.

Up and over this big hill and a 90 degree left turn unveiled the demoralising view of a long straight stretch of dirt road traversing endless rolling hills underneath more powerlines. It seemed to disappear into eternity. Definitely my least-favoured part of the course. Finally coming off this section, there was some really enjoyable undulating small hills set amongst delightful natural bushland with several more small creeks. Most enjoyable, and another short climb led onto a fire-trail which took us a few kms to CP5. Another brief stop, grabbed the headlamp, and onto the long downhill section and back to CP1A, where, as the night closed in, I changed into a long-sleeve running top. It is only 4.4 kms from CP1A to CP2 (base, the start, the finish, the school, and much more), and it entails the second journey of four over Hamburger Hill. Back at CP2, it’s another big mental boost, lots of activity, friendly faces, good food and 102 kms under the belt. A quick medical involving weigh-in and blood-pressure, and it was across Hamburger Hill for the third time, back to CP1A, and off onto the 10 km stretch out to CP9 and the eastern section of the course. My aim was to run as much of this last 60km as possible, as it is all very flat except for the two climbs up Wildhorse Mountain.

Arriving at CP9 I ditched the Camelback for the first ascent up Wildhorse; it is only 900 metres each way (1.8 up and back). They give you a ticket to place in a box at the top of Wildhorse, which is a nice way of doing things. Back down to CP9, and back on with the backpack for the long hard 10.8 km slog out to the remotest part of the course, involving CP10 and a 7.5 km loop which starts & finishes from CP10. The trail out to CP10 makes for good running, nice and flat, with enough turns to keep you focused. I caught up with Roger again in this section, and was also involved in an ongoing battle with Nick Maloney. Nick and I had passed each other several times over the last 25km or so.

Ate some really nice food at CP10, and set off to complete the 7.5 km loop. It was about halfway around this loop, while running with Roger and his pacer, that I stopped for a 'call of nature' and that was the last I saw of Roger. Back to CP10, and then I set off back along the same 10.8 km trail back to CP9. Heading back along here I met many runners who were heading out to CP10, and it was great to see many familiar faces.

Arriving back at CP9 I met up again with my crew-person, Tesso. I told her that after going straight up Wildhorse Mountain for the second time, ticket in hand, I would be back for a feed and a short rest. After doing so, I knew I had only 14kms left to run until the finish, and was eager to run this out strongly. So with fresh batteries in the headlamp, and after a nice light feed, left CP9 just as Nick came in.

Knowing Nick had still to go up Wildhorse and back, I concentrated on running well and putting plenty of distance between him and myself. I knew what he was capable of …. each time he had passed me previously he was running much quicker than I was, so I didn’t want to give him the slightest chance of seeing me up ahead.

Not far out of CP9 the course heads very slightly uphill through a dead-straight section of pine forest. It goes for about 2 or 3 kms and is very dark, so when I reached the dirt road at the end of it and looked back where I had run, I was really pleased to see nothing but inky blackness …. No headlamps chasing the Dog. Even that did not deter me from running without break to CP1A, and it was only after 1A on my fourth trip over Hamburger Hill that I allowed myself a brief uphill walk break. The surface underfoot here is really bad, sharp and rocky, and it was during this time, I realised that this hill had lived up to its name, as my left foot was feeling quite bad, and indeed upon later inspection did resemble a hamburger, with 3 toenails ready to be discarded and several demonic blisters. Anyway, up over Hamburger Hill and then a nice easy descent leads onto a dirt trail. It’s pretty exciting running through here, in the bush, in the wee small hours, and you know the prize is at hand. It’s quite emotional as after a kilometer or two you can see the school lights winking between the trees, and as you close in the call goes up …. “runner coming in!”

People cheer, applaud, and steer you down to the playing field for a lap of the oval to finish. You run onto the straight section of 100 metre track, lanes marked, and the finish line dead ahead, 100 metres away. I don’t know if anything feels that good. You cross the line, and it’s done. It’s emotional, it’s empowering, and 21 hours 23 minutes is a bloody long time without a beer.

With too many individuals to mention, and probably a lot I didn’t even meet, I can only offer a huge thankyou to all involved in staging this event. Each and every one of you, please accept my fondest regards. I will definitely be back.

Cheers, Blue Dog.