Cradle Valley Trail Run 2019

Friday, 29^th March, 2019:

For someone who has always prided himself on his rock hopping agility my two falls at Gone Nuts not only dented my confidence but also set me back. Having been diagnosed with a broken rib meant that I had to curtail my preparation for this year’s Cradle Valley Trail Run. For the first two weeks all I was able to do was walk. For the third week I did some short, slow jogs as part of my walks. All this time, however, I was taking two Panadol and two ibuprofen every night for pain relief. Unfortunately, these painkillers only took the edge off the pain as I struggled to sleep and woke up frequently. This last week, however, I had three runs (Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday) and didn’t take any painkillers to help me sleep. Even though, for most of those nights, I went to sleep quickly I didn’t stay asleep for long and this pattern continued with broken nights. And I can feel the effects of not running as my asthma begins to kick in again and I wonder how I will go tomorrow.

Saturday, 30^th March, 2019:

Last night was a disaster. It was almost impossible to sleep as I tossed and turned with a lot of pain. I dozed off a couple of times and finally the alarm went at 4.30 am so we could get to the registration desk by around 6.00 am and then catch a bus to the Dove Lake carpark, where the race was due to start. We picked up a fellow competitor as she walked out of the campsite heading for the Visitor Centre, which is where she thought the registration was to take place. Fortunately, Val suggested that we stop and ask if she needed a lift.

Because we are still on daylight saving, the proposed starting time had to be delayed by around 15-20 minutes until it was light enough for us to run the early part of the course safely. I had previously made the decision to start near the tail of the field because of my lack of preparation; my uncertainty as to how I would handle the distance, when my longest run since Gone Nuts had been 8.5k; and at what point I might begin to struggle. It wasn’t long before I discovered that starting near the rear of the field was not a very wise decision because I almost immediately wanted to run at a faster pace than those in front of me without being held in check by them. As we left the carpark in a clockwise direction the track (be it gravel, boardwalk or a rough combination of roots and rocks) is very narrow and not conducive to overtaking. Even though I sat behind a largish group I did manage to squeeze past a couple of runners here and there. The first kilometre ticked over at a slower rate than I wanted and I knew that I couldn’t do too much about it. By around the second kilometre I had managed to catch Darlene, my guardian angel from Gone Nuts. As I drew up behind her she called out, “Is that you, Steve?” She could hear my laboured breathing, which is always a dead giveaway to those in front of me whom I can catch. As Darlene wanted to take a photo she kindly let me through. We were in that extremely narrow section of track that snaked its way along the edge of the lake and through thick vegetation. It was quite dark under this cover, so it was good that the starting time had been delayed. Being dark I had to be extra careful with my footing over the rough terrain. Even so, I did have a few little trips and stumbles, but nothing serious that led to my having a fall. Apart from where I was putting my feet I wasn’t taking too much notice of the beauty around me. But, with every breath I took, a shot of pain stabbed my chest from the worst of the damage from the break I had suffered four weeks ago. At least the jarring from landing or going down steps didn’t seem to have any noticeable effect. As we turned around the bottom of the lake I was able to pass more people but this ceased once we entered the ever beautiful Ballroom Forest. Soon after that we reached the steep steps on the western side of Dove Lake. Because my lungs don’t like steep hills (or even gentle inclines for that matter) I can’t get enough oxygen and my legs become leaden with lactic acid build up, which forces me to slow down so that many of those I had just overtaken now went passed me. That meant just one thing! I had to wait for further opportunities to pass them again. I managed to do that for some of them at the boatshed but then we ran beside Lake Lilla where it wasn’t possible, for that part of the track becomes more technically difficult as it is basically rocks and today, following yesterday’s heavy rain, there was water on the track—water, that wet stuff that dampens the enthusiasm of your feet as they look for dry spots to land on. But now that they were wet I wasn’t so careful about avoiding puddles. The rocks became slippery meaning they slowed me down. It was at this point that I began to reminisce about how I have always prided myself on my rock hopping agility but I navigated them gingerly this time, even if there were a couple of momentary slips before my ever reliable trail shoes gripped the rocks and held me firm. It was on the rough section after Lake Lilla where, last year, I hit my head on low-hanging branches. With my multifocal glasses I have to keep looking down at the ground, especially in this type of terrain, to avoid coming to grief and maybe having a speedier trip to heaven than Val would appreciate. Anyway, this year I avoided those nasty trees with their tentacle-like branches wanting to reach out and hit my head as I approached them. The bushes at ground level likewise tried their best to trip me up but they also failed. It was enjoyable running along this rough and challenging section of the trail. I wondered how fast the leaders had run over this type of terrain, but I had to refrain from such thoughts because I needed to keep focused on what was in front of me and take my time—and yet I was both trying to keep an eye on those in front of me and trying to catch them.

In some ways it was such a welcome relief to get to the 7k mark because the rest of the run was nothing but boardwalk—that makes for faster running (it took me about 55 minutes for the first 7k and only 45 minutes for the second 7k) but, while the differing scenery is still great to behold, this section of the trail isn’t quite as challenging to run. Around this time the sun was beginning to rise above the clouds while to the west dark clouds were rolling down the mountain peaks. The misty rain started so I re-zipped the spray jacket I had been lent to try and keep dry and warm. I had already become over-heated even though the temperature was only a bit above zero. I had my pure wool merino long sleeved top from Kathmandu with my Gone Nuts running shirt over the top of it (I chose this bright red shirt in case I got lost in the snow that had been forecast earlier in the week). Thus I was kept as warm as toast—well, as warm as overheated toast could be if you can overheat toast without burning it. And talking about burning, my poor old thighs (which are now an old 70) were beginning to feel as if they were burning from the effort. My lack of preparation was beginning to tell. I didn’t know how I could finish. My left shoe felt as if it was becoming loose but I didn’t want to stop and tighten it because that would cost me valuable time. I know that that could be dangerous if I tripped on a loose lace—but, fortunately, the lace hadn’t come undone on this occasion and so I ran on, trusting that it would stay as it was. The misty rain that had swept down from the mountains didn’t last long so I was able to un-zip the jacket and run on. Now that we were on boardwalk I forced myself to pick up the pace in spite of protesting thighs (and when I briefly checked my pace it was around 5:45/k) and all the while I kept looking ahead for bunnies, though I’m not sure if those runners in front of me would like it if they knew I was referring to them as bunnies, whom I could try to catch and pass. Having others in front of me is always an incentive to keep pushing on. Don’t let others catch you and go as hard as possible to try and pass those who are already in front, is my motto/incentive as long as I can keep it up. I pushed on as best as I could all the while trying to maintain a fast pace, even though I faltered once I hit the inclines (at times I wonder whether my struggling up hill is all a mental attitude or whether, as I like to believe, it is because of my lungs). It was over the bridge; up the incline to Snake Hill; and then down the steep steps. As the track flattened out a bit I heard that old familiar call of “Way to go, Old Man”, but I couldn’t see Val at first. Then I spied her behind trees with her camera capturing spirited runners as they pushed their way to the finish line—and some of these runners had bounded up three steps at a time! I think the photos of me tackling those steps almost make me look like a decrepit old man!

During the last kilometre or so I was pleased with the fact that for years I have run down stairs and steps a couple at a time. Even though I didn’t have the advantage of handrails to loosely hold onto today I basically kept this up, though a bit slower than I normally would. And it enabled me to get closer to a couple of people in front of me. Disaster almost struck when I glanced down at my watch to see how far I had gone and what I had left. There was a step down that almost brought me to grief because I had become more focussed on the remaining distance than where I was to put my feet. I was so fortunate that I saw it just in the nick of time, even though it did cause me to falter as I run down it.

Anyway, to stop this blog from running away with itself, I reached the end of the run in a time of 1:39:57, which was 25 seconds slower than last year. But last year I didn’t have as many people to pass in the earlier stages and this year not only had I lost four weeks of valuable preparation but I was also running with those poor old ribs that didn’t take too kindly to deep breathing. In spite of the stabbing pain with each breath I persevered and reached the end. So I was pleased with today’s run and would love to do it again when I am in better condition.

But once I had crossed the line it was time to turn around and jog back along the track to pick up (not literally, I hasten to add) my friend Darlene to run home with her. However, because my hamstrings were starting to seize up I was unable to keep up with her in the final stretch and so couldn’t see her finish.

Sunday, 31^st March, 2019:

In spite of the fact that I was so uncomfortable last night with sore hips and sore thighs and that I struggled to drive home this afternoon because my left upper hamstring hurt as I sat in the seat, it was definitely a fun run, and I would do it again next year if we were around. It will be a while before I will be able to get back to Bruny, Derby, Gone Nuts or Cradle Valley runs and until then I will content myself with parkrun events, unless something just happens to be taking place as we are travelling the Mainland.