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In the last month I have concentrated on my endurance. I have switched up my training to add trail runs every week. I started the year by doing quite a bit of speed work on the track and I clocked some quick times for 200m, 400m and 1k reps. Running a 1k rep for me in 3.00mins flat at the end of a 500m session was a good marker of my speed.
It was time to hit the hills. I wanted to explore the trails west of Brisbane. I would surge up the hills as best I could and rest on the downhill. I have found the downhill to be a strong point for me when running trails. I can relax and use my quick turnover to keep a quick pace whilst my breathing eases and my mind clears. When you are in that zone, time can almost seem to slow down, allowing you to see the trail in slow motion as you negotiate each footstep, it is an exhilarating feeling, until you fall over I might add, which I have done quite a few times! It will be interesting to see if this hill training will continue to help my flat speed as well. I ran a solid 10k in 36.50 at BRR a few Sundays back, a minute faster than the previous time in more humid weather, so perhaps it is taking effect.
First, I had a fantastic run exploring Mt Coot-Tha in the misty early morning rain. I can see the mountain from my balcony, and it seems to be calling me every time I lace up my trainers. When I returned home that day after 17k and 500m of elevation I felt so good I could have turned round and ran straight back up again.
One Friday at the end of March I set off to see if I could get to Enoggera Reservoir from my house, which also takes in Mt Coot-Tha on the way there and back. Armed with Earl Grey tea, a banana and honey sandwich and some dried fruit, I navigated myself using a little map I stuffed in my pocket. Almost exactly 30k when I arrived home and 800m of elevation, it was the furthest I have run off road and it felt good, my energy was well maintained throughout, with the spirit of adventure to keep my tired legs moving. The only thing that I really started to feel was the fatigue in my muscles on the last long climb. I felt I was ready for a trail race. After an early evening run a few weeks back in and around the Glass House Mountains, I was inspired to enter the intriguingly named Wild Horse Criterium.
It had been raining on and off all week in and around Brisbane and the creeks were filling up with water, the race, if it was not cancelled for being too water logged, was going to be a challenge. There were waist deep creek crossings and all sorts of challenging terrain to keep you on your toes or flat on your arse; Sandy single track, forested bog, slimy clay fire track, and rocky trail. It was an exciting prospect. I entered the 22k and Kathleen entered the 11k. There were also longer options on this looped course, I was tempted, but in the end the distance I chose was a challenge enough. We arrived in the middle of the forest and followed the dance music and rows of parked cars towards the race hub. I was reminded of a festival or a rave in the woods, it was definitely an alternative way to spend Easter morning, and the atmosphere was friendly and relaxed. As the longer races had already started we had arrived whilst all the festivities were in full swing, there were people milling around cheering and supporting all the runners out on the course.
What a race it turned out to be, I set off in a lead pack of around 5 or 6, we all weaved from one side of the course to the other trying to find the driest route. The pace was quick in the first 1k as the wide track head off from the start. As we hit the first creek crossing I realised this was not going to be like any other race I had run before, I took the lead soon after and before long was splashing through a knee high puddle taking everyone the wrong way! I dropped back and let someone else lead for a while. A few minutes later, in an attempt to find an alternative route, I found another very deep puddle and ended up almost swimming to get out whilst the others had sensibly stuck to the bank. The course twisted and turned through the forest, I followed the leader who was keeping a steady pace. As we turned onto another fire track section and the ground became harder under foot we naturally picked up the pace. We ended up as three and began to chat. It was a great atmosphere, we cheered on others coming in the opposite direction.
Soon after half way, it was just myself and Matthew Baker who I had been following, he was looking strong, we chatted and I talked back as much as I could but I was starting to work hard, with so much slipping under foot and concentration on not falling over. At around 16-17k, we reached another wider flat section and I thought that if I was going to beat him, this is where I needed to put the hammer down. I pushed the pace as hard as I could, but he stayed alongside, and as we reached the last single-track section, he had slipped in front and re gained his authority at the front. From here until the end he slowly picked up the pace, I kept with him until around 20k but after the last creek crossing he found one more gear.
I finished with a flourish, 30 seconds behind a worthy winner and very pleased with second, I’ll have him next year! My time was a pretty swift 1h34.24 considering the conditions.
Kathleen came in to take a fantastic 1st place in the 11k. We chatted to others, collected our Chocolate Easter bunnies, our awards and hung around to see other runners finishing until it was time to go home and have a glass of champagne and a lovely Easter meal with family.
Mountains pull me in whenever I see them. I feel a need run to them, around them, to the top and back, to conquer them on foot, to feel the wilderness you can experience only when you are lost among the trees, with the views of the sky above and the valley far below. I am not sure where I get this passion from. Perhaps it’s my distant Welsh ancestors or my Southern Italian roots, the latter, handed down from family living in the mountain towns above Napoli. I know my dad has always been pulled towards the Lake District (U.K) where he spent many years with his friends trekking and discovering the mountain paths and making it a home from home. I grew up in the flat lands of East Anglia (U.K), a place so flat that you can see for miles in every direction whenever you set foot in the countryside. It has its own special wilderness and a different epic beauty but I have certainly not grown up in the shadow of a mountain. Maybe it is just a passion that burns deeply inside everyone?