Six foot track - Phill Clarke
I was training for the Rotorua marathon anyway, so why not mark off the six foot track as well?! Being fit enough to contemplate even lining up for such a race comes rarely for me – so it seemed like a good idea. How hard can it be? 45km and 1000m of up-hill? I’ve faced Awaba road enough times to know what a hill looks like. A quiet run in the bush sounded tempting.
Speeding along the dark empty M4 at 4am in the morning, Susan driving, my ever forgiving #1 supporter – wearying truths start to dawn with early morning shivers. Katoomba arrived cool and grey. The noisy hustle of the registration, port-a-loo line-ups and bus trip to the start settled nerves. The start was in low sub-alpine gum at the top of the track with truckloads of scones and sweet coffee served to the almost 800 competitors and more spectators. The bustle was temporarily silenced to remember a young runner from Penrith who died unexpectedly in the week before the race. The chance and privilege to enjoy the run and the day was intensified.
Dave Vlotman gave last minute warnings. He was lining-up for his 6th six-foot track and the coveted buckle for his troubles. The man is distressingly non-plussed. Filippo, the clubs new ultra-distance runner drifted around like it was an easy morning jog (compared to his 11 Comrades Marathon finishes (6 uphill) – maybe it was).
Vlotman started in the first wave with the old hands. 5 minutes later I joined the queue heading down the narrow track into the valley, Filippo 15 minutes later. A gentle 1 hour jog down the track and into the sunshine, and the Coxs river. Then the grind began. I would pay later for bravely running up the first few kms of uphills. I see Dave, happy at his pre-Ironman training pace. The jelly snakes and the yellow of the volunteer fireys start to become anticipated markers. The walking started. The excuses started. Just up to the next less steep bit. Just until the burning stops. Just until I finish the jelly snake and can breath again. Occasional walks turn into occasional runs. You can’t believe how long it can be between 2km markers. Joggers shuffle by. I chat to a Bulgarian guy barely moving, but in a perky philosophical Eastern European way tells me to "Jest keep mooffing. Jest take shmooll steps". He thankfully passes perkily by.
An eternity of uphills and the fatalistic acceptance of the nightmare never ending had been made. Filippo bounds by with words of encouragement any skerup of competitiveness had drained from the body hours ago. I start counting the kilometres down. The downhill slope of the last 3 km is eagerly anticipated. With little left in the legs, I deliriously flail my way down the last kilometres of goat track. The noise of the crowd and the loud speakers below are blessed manna for the ears. The valley and hotel is bathed in sunshine and the surging applause from the crowds fortify the legs for the last few hundred meters.
Susan had secured perfect seats by the bar, but once stopped, the legs wouldn’t go those last few meters. I collapsed in the car park and happily absorbed electrolytes and adulation while the pain subsided. Filippo looked clean and rested by the time I looked up. Dave Vlotman had come in only minutes behind, and was soon packed and off, probably for a warm down lap of Ularu on his bike.
A delicious cold shower in Filippo's hotel room was followed by recuperative ales with Susan and Filippo in the upstairs bar of the old hotel. The afternoon mature to the sounds of happy finishers pounding down the track outside. Susan poured me into the car, simultaneously pleased at finishing, but wondering what sort of time would be possible if the body had been able to run the whole thing. The runner’s pain amnesia soon kicks in. Next year I would run it so much smarter. Focused hill training. Better carbo load. 5kg lighter. And reworking the nutrition program. Yes. Maybe the red jelly snakes. Next year.
Filippo finished in the top 40 in a stunning time of 4 hrs 17 mins. Dave has since received his 6 times veterans belt buckle, and lines up for Ironman at Port Macquarie next weekend (2nd April). North Sydney Bears claimed 29th club in the clubs point race, and I finished in 4 hrs 42 mins, happy to join the club of 6 foot tracker finishers, slyly recommending it to unwary novices for next year.
- Phill Clake, 27th March 2006