Final Long Run - 4 weeks out from UTA100

In the final weeks we feel all the feelings and think all the thoughts. Last big run before my inaugral 100k - Ultra Trail Australia.

Eventually though, you make it out, you find “The Rock” a massive boulder that signifies your final moments in Kedumba. It has become a small tradition in my group of running friends to offer your thanks to “The Rock” with a kiss as you pass by.

It’s always daunting.

Well, for me anyway, heading ‘out there’ for those big training runs when I’m in those final peak weeks.

I know this course so well (I’ve run the 50 twice + training), I’m well prepared, I understand my fuelling and I have plenty of everything. Worst case, I walk my sorry ass back to civilisation and call a cab. But I know I won’t need to, once I’m out there my feet will hit the dirt and I’ll be off. The cool early morning mountain air, the slight heaviness of my pack and the feeling of my legs coming to life in those first meters, I know I’ll be fine. I hope. There’s always good chunk of my mind that likes to brood in self doubt.

It’s four weeks exactly (*shits self*) until my inaugural 100km event. It hasn’t been the smoothest of lead ups, injury wise, actually it’s been the only time I’ve ever experienced an injury that has stopped me running.

Going back to the end of last year I developed a serious chest infection because I continued to push through without taking my foot off the gas (spot the A Type) and whilst two jobs, two small boys, two crazy cats and a husband, I effectively fell off the cliff. As a photographer, September – March is wedding season (geographical note: Australian summer) so finding any kind of balance is really hard. Add, family, training and a relationship into the mix and it’s easy to feel like a jack of all trades and a master of none.

So with a depleted body and mind, I somehow convinced myself that signing up to UTA100 was a good idea. Actually that’s a lie. I know exactly how it happened and I still maintain it wasn’t my fault/I was bullied into it. But that’s a story for another day.

Anyway, fast forward through a string of tendonitis issues, plantar fasciitis, ITB syndrome and generally waking up every day wondering what the fuck have I done, I find myself in the car park of Scenic World (the start/finish for UTA) facing a 42km solo training run. The biggest side affect of all of this has been my speed. I’m not a fast runner by any stretch, it doesn’t come naturally and it’s certainly an element to my running that I constantly have to work on in the form of intervals. The Post Tib Tendonitis and PF put a hault to any speed work and as a result, my overall pace has plummeted, as has my confidence.

Only two weeks before I ran Mt Solitary Ultra, a brutal 45km race on much of the same course as UTA plus the insane crossing of Mt Solitary (I’ll write about this one another day!) However despite me successfully finishing a race I’d refused to even consider entering 3 months earlier because I was convinced I didn’t stand a chance of finishing, I still felt like an imposter standing here.

View from the top of Mt Solitary

It was time to start, put the phone away, stop finding another strap, headphone cord, or shoelace to fiddle with and hit the Start button on my watch. From Scenic World the easiest access down into the valley is the Furber Steps, but Furber is closed for some serious reno’s (Aussie slang = renovations) prerace, so my route was going to be the true back half of the course, a bit of road back towards Echo Point and then hit the start of the trail to the Giant Stairway which takes you down, and I mean seriously, straight down, to Leura forest underneath the escarpment.

Leura Cascades

I remember my first ever descent down The Giant Stairway. As an individual with a fairly severe fear of heights, the metal grate steps that allow a full view of your imminent death below, was a recipe for jelly legs and a moment of regrouping, allowing the blood to flow back to my legs and for my stomach to return to its anatomical position before continuing on.

My aim for the run was to get a good taste of all the elements that this race was going to throw at me, single trail, stairs, big climbs, big downhills, more stairs, and hopefully a bit of runnable stuff in between. So for those that know the course, it’s essentially the entire UTA50 course or back half of the hundred course without the road section at the start and just coming back up Giants instead of Federal Pass and then Furber. Once again, despite having run most of these sections multiple times, walking them as a tourist and having a GPS map of the course, I still get lost. Yup, that’s one of the joys of running with me, I’m a pilot’s daughter, I get lost/confused/second guess myself constantly. Now there’s a metaphor for life!

Wentworth Falls

The one thing I will say for myself is I have a strong mental game. That’s something I’ve always been bestowed with (or is that more of a curse??) a real sense of stubbornness. I finish what I set out to do, regardless of how long it takes me, and more often than not, I like to tale the hardest path because I believe it makes you stronger. Again, this is somewhat reflective of my decisions in life too. But it’s one thing to know that you can go the distance, it’s another to achieve the finish I want.

Jamieson Lookout

So here I am, 20 something kms in at the top of Kedumba. I’ve made it through the stair section, which just goes ON and ON, and even after the stairs, there are even more stairs. Eventually you get spat out on Kings Tableland Road, which is a road that leads you into the wilderness and back of beyond. There’s an old hospital site there “QVH” and from there, it’s 8km down into Kedumba Valley. It’s a brutal downhill section, and at a really tough point in the race. In the 5okm event this marks the back half, and in the 100k, you hit it with 78km in your legs. Right now, I can’t even comprehend what that will feel like. The down is then matched by the gruelling, relentless, eternal up. Where every switchback looks the same and soul destroying lack of running beats any morsel of self belief left.

Leura Creek

Eventually though, you make it out, you find “The Rock” a massive boulder that signifies your final moments in Kedumba. It has become a small tradition in my group of running friends to offer your thanks to “The Rock” with a kiss as you pass by.

Kiss The Rock - leaving Kedumba

I quite enjoyed the trip back through Leura Forest. My legs felt good and like there was still plenty left in the tank. So that’s a plus. The stairs were, well, stairs, and the road section kinda sucked because I ran out of water at about 37km. I was out there for just over 6.5hrs and the next day I felt great. I didn’t have any feet/tendon/PF issues which does give me a confidence boost, yay!

At this point, all there is to do is show up and put one foot in front of the other in the best way I can on the day.

91km Emergency Water Point - final clearing before returning Leura Forest