The Compass Club Cockle Creek Half Marathon

 

As it was a 400-kilometre drive from Devonport to Cockle Creek, we left late on Thursday morning and drove down to Oatlands where we stayed for the night in the overflow RV parking area—including with another couple whom we later saw drive into Cockle Creek for the run (and I later booked him up to instal a diesel heater in our van because we had some very cold nights down there). During that night I made the decision to opt out of participating in the Tassie Trail Fest’s 45k event in July because the monstrous elevation, along with my lack of having been able to train, would see me fail to finish the course. Even though the van was already packed, it was still mid-morning before we drove out of Oatlands, having been to the ATM and bought a takeaway coffee. We refuelled at Kempton (including filling a jerry can) and made our way through Hobart, finally stopping at Dover where we made ourselves a sandwich and stretched our legs on the foreshore path, before continuing further south.

After setting up the van and being welcomed by Superb Fairy-wrens that hopped around our feet (with one getting into the car) Val and I looked at the first part of tomorrow’s track and it was wet, muddy and slippery—even the boardwalk was slippery. We stopped after a few hundred metres because of water over the track as we didn’t want to get our feet wetter than what they already were. That night, Darlene and Jackie popped in and told us that the course had been changed and will now run 7k from the Whale Statue to Recherche Community Hall and then back to the statue before returning to the hall because there were trees down over the track at around 4k into the event. Given the dangers that that could pose to runners, the organiser made the right decision to go for the alternate course. This is the third time in six years that he has had to make this difficult decision—but a very wise decision indeed. We will now run the entire race on a gravel and dirt road with many puddles to navigate. And while we will miss the trail run and not be able to get our photo looking out towards Antarctica, we will still have our race to compete in. Thus, I opted to use a pair of old road shoes rather than my trail shoes and flirted with the idea of not using my running vest—but, upon reflection during the long hours of the night, decided to take it with me for what I thought I needed.

I had very little sleep during the night and when I looked outside there were stars—a far cry from all the rain we have been having for a few days. Maybe, just maybe, we will get a fine day for our race. However, when I was up at 5:15 am the cloud was building up again. After a couple of mugs of tea and 500g of rice pudding I dressed ready for our friends to pick us up and take us to the start. And the drizzle started! And I felt nauseous and wanted to vomit—but I couldn’t! Just before the start I realised that I didn’t have my phone, so I went back to the car to try and find it—but it was nowhere to be seen. Thinking that I must’ve left it in the van I decided that I would get it on the way. Following the briefing, with another apology for the change of course, we were directed to gather behind the starting gate. As usual, I chose the very back row to start. And then we were off. I was the last person away but it only took a few hundred metres before I began to catch others who had taken off a bit too fast. However, a bit after the first kilometre I ducked off the course to the van to get my phone—but again it was nowhere to be found. As I reluctantly locked the van, Val pulled up and I searched the car again—and, lo and behold, there it was in the pocket of my wet weather running jacket. I estimated that I had lost close to 3 minutes and there were now no other runners in sight as I took off again. By the time I had run to around 3k I saw some others in the distance and began to slowly reel them in. That’s my way of running from the rear of the field as I see myself as an old greyhound aiming to run down the “bunnies” who are in front of me. That encourages me to keep going. And all the while the drizzle kept up! The scenery was magnificent. Low and threatening cloud hung low over the mountains; patches of mist drifted in front of mountains; and the water gently lapped the beaches—and then we ran though rain forest with moss-covered forest giants standing tall; there were vibrant patches of manferns beside the road; delicate fungi abounded; birds sung to their heart’s content and Superb Fairy-wrens hopped around—and still one could hear the gentle sound of the water continuing to lap the beaches. If this was so stunning in its beauty then what must the original trail have been like as it wound its way down to the south coast. There’s always next year if I’m so inclined.

The road, as I’ve mentioned, was gravel but that included sections of dirt and some hardish sand. There were puddles aplenty to step around—and I avoided them like the plague. Even so, my shoes and socks were quite wet by the end of the run. However, the road wasn’t too slippery at all, which was good, and that made running all the easier. There were a couple of times when the sun was obviously trying, though in vain, to break through the cloud cover and its sheen could be seen on the water.

So, how did I go? Apart from running without stopping—I even ran all the hills—I was very happy with my race. For over twelve months now I’ve had knee problems. Even with that problem I did the Scottsdale Rail Trail 27k in September and then the Gone Nuts 50k in March. But the knee was just getting worse. I saw my exercise physiologist some months ago and he gave me exercises and a reduced programme. For a few weeks I just walked then introduced easy runs twice a week, with an increase to three runs a week for the last couple of weeks. Last Monday week I had a 15-16k training run but I had to abort that at 14k as I had had it—and my last kilometre was around 10:00/k! That’s been my preparation. At the start, I had hoped that I might be able to run the course in under 2:30—which I did! So that was a plus. Strava gave me a recorded distance of 20.81k in an elapsed time of 2:23:53 (my moving time was 2:19:37 which took into account my searching for my phone and stops for photos) at an average pace of 6:55/k (far slower than my average of 6:19/k at Scottsdale) and the elevation gain was 136 metres. AND I even came first in my age group—though I was the only participant!!! Following my norm, every time I caught up with someone, I didn’t just run past them. I stayed with them for a while, running beside them to check on how they were and to encourage them on their journey to the finish line—whether that be those in the 7k or the 21k. It’s something I love to do, even though it slows me down—but at 72 there is no way that I’m going to threaten anyone for a podium finish. So, I just run for the sheer pleasure and joy of running. I’m a bit strange as I usually have a cool down run that goes back along the course to run people home. There was a young mum (hey, everybody is young compared to me) with whom I ran for a couple of kilometres until the 18k mark when I told her that I was going to take off and when I ran back to her, she threw her arms around me in appreciation and wanted photos taken with me and a couple of her friends at the finish! All during the event most people were shouting out words of encouragement to others. What a great running community we are part of—for even though we are competing in a race we do so with a great attitude!!!

And my knee? Well, it held up remarkably well and I hardly felt it at all during the whole event, though there is a bit of soreness in it two days later. So now I am definitely looking forward to this year’s Scottsdale Rail Trail—and I’m hoping I can get enough preparation done to enter the 54k event! Bring it on! And Bruny? Well, I’ll just have to wait and see about that one!