Greenvale Backyard Ultra Marathon

For those not familiar with the concept, the Backyard Ultra is a 6.71k loop that must be completed within the hour. Then, at the beginning of the next hour you start all over again. You keep running/walking until you time out (you don’t make it back before the hour is up), you decide that you’re not up to starting the next loop, or the medical officer pulls you out. The odd distance of each loop gives you a total of 100 miles in 24 hours—for those who get that far. The world record stands at 110 yards/hours for 458.33 miles/737.61 kilometres!

This year hasn’t gone as I had hoped. I didn’t do either the Scottsdale Rail Trail or the Bruny Island Ultra. So many things got in the way of enabling me to attend these events—though I did manage to complete my virtual run around New Zealand with Run the World. Over the last couple of months, I have also had hip and leg issues. I finally went to the physio about 2½ weeks prior to Greenvale, telling him of my plans and that I needed to keep on training. He tested me out and gave me four exercises to do daily—along with saying that I could still run, but that I should avoid hills for the following week.

With these various ups and downs, I found myself eagerly anticipating the event but then dreading it the following day. The last few days have been spent resting or just walking, and I felt much better for the reduced load. I spent time researching the internet for ideas on nutrition and hydration for ultra marathon events and made a stockpile of drinks and eats for the big day. I’m think that I was even better prepared in that area than when I did Bruny in 2018 as a solo runner.

The day before the event, the farm was open for people to set up and check out the course. We had a short walk on the first part of the course and decided that we needed to get ourselves a gazebo. We called in to Anaconda on the way home and bought one as well as some screwed tent pegs as it was quite windy out there in the middle of the day. We also got a new camp chair for Val. After a late lunch I returned to set up our gazebo beside the Bosveld family, who helped me erect it. Back home, I made up my peanut butter and honey sandwiches and jam sandwiches, as well as slicing up some of my oranges.

This morning, I was up before the alarm and made us our pot of tea after having breakfast of yoghurt and banana and two slices of white bread toast with peanut butter and honey. I then packed the BT50 and we left home at 7:30 am to continue getting everything set up for the day.

After an 8:45 am briefing, which included an inspirational speech by Tim Blair from the Tim Blair Run for Kids Foundation Inc., it was almost time to start our first yard. Not only did the 3-minute, 2-minute and 1-minute whistles sound, but Tye Binns also walked between the gazebos to warn us. I started at the back of the pack, which is my preferred place, as I knew that I was planning to run slowly but aiming at around 7:45-8:00/k pace. The first kilometre, some of which was on road, was mainly an uphill slog that meant I had time to make up for the rest of the loop. The fully exposed course was on a farm, which meant that the mown “grass” (perhaps that should read clover/crop) needed to be treated with respect. I wondered if there would be rolled ankles because of the terrain we were traversing. The course had its undulations in which I basically walked the uphill sections. I finished the first yard with about 6 minutes to spare, which enabled me to grab something to drink and some nibbles (chips, jellies and jam sandwich quarters). The second loop was similar in time to the first, though my first kilometre was slower (in fact, each of my first kilometres were progressively slower than the previous one). It was sunny and warming up, though intermittent cloud cover meant that we had some cooler times. By the time we were part way through the third loop the wind began and it grew in intensity from there on. Thus, it became, for me at least, a real struggle running into the wind and up the hills/inclines at the same time. It was in the third loop that I began to feel the challenge of this course. I did complete the loop, but it was getting harder to keep going. In the fourth loop I was running like the Old Man that I am frequently called while running. In this loop, with about 1.5k to go, I had my head down watching the ground when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw safety tape fluttering in the wind. I kept it on my left when there was a whack on my head as I hit the nozzle part of an irrigation sprayer. Looking back, I saw my mistake. I opted to climb over the tape rather than do the extra to get to the start of the tape. I safely stepped over with my right leg, but my left leg cramped, and my foot became caught on the tape as I attempted to lift it over. As a result, I tumbled to the ground. A young lady stooped to ensure that I was OK, before I rolled over and stood up to continue. We ran together for a little while before I drew ahead of her. I still managed to complete that loop in under the hour, but I didn’t have as much time to spare. Then it was onto the fifth lap and I could feel the difficulty in continuing to run—and I really thought that I was going to time out on this one. As I came into the tented area I cramped in my left leg and had to stop to rub it. However, I was able to run to the finish line reasonably well but, having crossed it with only a couple of minutes to spare, I cramped quite badly. The medical officer came over and told me that she was pulling me out of the event because the cramp was so bad.

Anyway, that was the end of my day, but I did complete 5 yards with several people behind me failing to finish that loop. We stayed around for a while as Val took more photos and I ate and drank. At home, I had a bath but cramped badly again—much worse this time. Val brought me some salt to help ease it but I threw up in the bath. I’ve never done that before at the end of any run.

I certainly fulfilled my first goal of not being the first person to not finish and I made my second goal of 5 yards. However, I had higher hopes of making it to 10 yards for my longest ever run (Bruny in 2018) and then maybe going on the run 100 kilometres or even 100 miles. However, my old legs have been failing me over the latter part of this year as they have lost a lot of their strength. I also had some left hip soreness which affected the IT Band. Would I do it again? At the moment, I’m not sure though I do have the 50k run at Gone Nuts in March. During the run I questioned myself as to whether I should stick to something shorter—like parkrun! I suppose I am a bit disappointed that I couldn’t go further—but I still did 5 yards on a tough course!

One thing I did find strange was the number of people talking about the fact that I am 76 years old.

Even though I was always at the rear of the field, I stopped/paused on a few occasions to checked on other participants who seemed to or were having troubles. I even ran with some of them for short distances.

Gone Nuts 25k

 As sometimes seems to happen when I’m preparing for a race, things don’t go to plan. Four weeks out from the event, I had a surgical procedure to remove some skin cancers from the back of my right hand. Then, a fortnight later, I had another procedure to remove more. That meant a fair bit of time off from having long runs and plenty of tough hills. As well, my left knee had been playing up again. I resorted to my physio exercises from the last time this happened, but I couldn’t do much about my two procedures. That become a matter of grinning and bearing it.

With my preparation being somewhat handicapped because of these things, I did something that is not recommended, and which probably did have a negative effect upon my results. Five days before the event, I ran 22k and walked another 6k; the following day it was a 1.5k walk and a 9k run; and then on the Wednesday, I ran 9k. The next two days were just walking. The challenge I face is that I am part of Run the World, and I need around 10k per day to maintain my estimated finish time. So, it all became a matter of juggling what I need to do.

We were late leaving home for our event, and we arrived at Boat Harbour just in time for the briefing, which I missed because of last minute preparations with changing into trail shoes and joining the long line for the toilets. The great news is, our youngest son was running with me in his first trail run, having been a teammate last year in the Bruny Island Ultra relay event. But I was far too slow for him, and we ran our own race.

The 25k event was crowded and it wasn’t easy to get a good position on Boat Harbour Beach. As usual, I started near the rear of the field, but I was high up on the loose sand rather than lower down where the sand was firmer. It wasn’t easy jostling for position along the beach—and even more difficult when we had to clamber over rocks, some of which were a bit slimy. We are always warned about the need to take care on these rocks so that we don’t have an accident. Participants were moving all over the place on the rocks and I had to grab hold of one lady’s shoulder, when she had veered in front of me, so we both didn’t come to grief. We offered each other an apology and kept on. I’m amazed that my ability to run on these rocks belies my age as I seemed to find it easier than so many of the other participants (I hope that this is not a case of famous last words for the next time I run this course).

Then it was up, up, and even more up as we climbed rough tracks and half roads. I was carrying with me, in the hope that I might be able to better my time from 2018, details of my splits so I could make comparisons and see how I was going. By the time I had completed 5k I was already more than 2:30 behind what I had hoped might be my time. But for the next 7k I was able to record faster splits, even up the Hill of Death! It was interesting observing how we each handled different sections—at least for those participants who were around me. I would drop back on the inclines only to find myself passing them on the declines. One early decline had me concerned. It was steep and I found myself running downhill way too fast for my liking. It was so hard trying to hold myself back and my eyes started to get a bit blurry from the effort and jarring. By the time this happened for the second time my knees were feeling the strain, even though I had taped them. And, at the bottom of some of these declines, the track took a sharp turn. At times, there was a big drop awaiting if I couldn’t slow myself down.

The views are always great, and I occasionally stopped for photos. It’s obvious that I wasn’t too worried about my overall time as I was happy with my progress at this point. I also stopped numbers of times to enquire as to how some other participants were going when they had to stop to stretch or take a break. Then there was helping a young lady over a stile—a stile that I found hard to get myself up onto as my legs had begun to weary later in the event.

It's always amazing how local farmers and their families are out beside the course to cheer people on and, in some cases, to provide drinks and nibbles for participants. At the top of one road a young boy and an even younger girl gave me a high five. And how generous are the landholders who allow us to run on their properties. What disappointed me, however, was the number of pieces of rubbish that had been abandoned on their properties—an empty water bottle, gel and bar wrappers carelessly discarded. At aid stations I had three cups of water, one of coke and a couple of chocolate Cadbury Freddo frogs as sustenance. At the same time, I continued to sip on my water as I felt I needed it. It wasn’t until around the 22k mark that I had my first gel. That was partly because I thought that I had nowhere to keep the wrapper and partly because I felt that I didn’t need it. This meant that I hadn’t learnt my lessons from previous events.

The course travelled along a beach, sealed and gravel roads, rough tracks that were discernible because of the amount of foot traffic that had worn a path—all the while following the pink trail markers. There were stones and rocks to navigate, roots that were designed to trip the unwary, fine loose dirt that would become a dust cloud at every footfall, and stubble. There were also puddles to get around, a few mud patches to avoid and paddocks with both plenty of cow pats and hoof marks that could turn the ankle if you were unwary. Entering one property, I found myself stepping over a shiny snakeskin—at some point it had been there. We were so fortunate that a lot of the event took place under cloud cover, which made such a difference to the conditions.

The first point at which I really struggled was the zigzagging steep and rough track not long after I had conquered the Hill of Death. It took me 3:31 more than in 2018 to get myself up it as it twisted and turned its way around and between trees. From that point on, I was mainly slower than 6 years ago. Even though I was slowing in those latter stages, I was still able to manage a sprint finish on the boardwalk and was just pipped by the faster finishing young lady whom I had helped over the stile.

Once I reached the Inglis River Track I basically hit the wall and the remainder of the run became a hard struggle, as I found myself slowing quite a bit. My feet must have swollen as my toes were beginning to get cramped in my shoes. So many people sailed by as they had judged their run far better than I had. What I should have done in the lead up was to begin my taper much earlier and, during the event, to use my gels more often than I did today.

I have really been wanting to run the 101k, but today proved that I am not up to it—at least not up to it yet. I found that today’s 25k—at least in the final stages—was far harder than my 50k run in 2019 with a couple of cracked ribs. Despite these “disappointments”, it was a very enjoyable day! And I managed a somewhat respectable 8^th position in the male 60 and over age category out of 24. If only they had a 70 and over age category!

Now, what will I attempt next year? That’s too far away, but at the moment I have the Scottsdale Rail Trail Run, Bruny Island Ultra and the Greenvale Backyard Ultra in which I’m planning to participate, in the latter half of this year.

24 parkruns in 24 hours

Technically, this should be called “24 parkrun courses in 24 hours”, because only the first run was at an official parkrun event. The rest are more correctly freedom runs. However, that is the name by which these types of events are commonly known.

For a couple of days before this event I was feeling nervous—the old butterflies were winging their way around my stomach. Was I endeavouring to attempt too much at my age and ability? How much of this event would I be running solo because of my pace and choice of courses? Would I sleep the night before and be refreshed or would the thought of what lay before me keep me awake that last night so that I couldn’t cope with either the runs or the travel? Sometimes the thought of just not turning up scurried across my mind like wind-blown clouds! The day before I had everything out that I would need for the event—even things that would only be needed for the whole 24 hours if I could possibly get that far. Yes, I was dreaming big—but that dream was like the boy who saw the table loaded with all sorts of delicious goodies that he couldn’t resist. He heaped his plate to overflowing, but soon found that he couldn’t eat it all for his eyes were bigger than his belly.

I had seen the official schedule for the progression of events from Devonport to Bells Parade to Port Sorell and then on to Westbury Town Common and some of the Launceston parkrun courses. I knew that I would not be able to keep up that schedule, so I wrote my own—and that was perfectly acceptable because this is an unofficial event, the purpose simply being to try and run 24 parkrun courses in 24 hours. I thought that if I ran the various courses in 35-40 minutes each then that would be a good pace to enable me to do the most that I could manage.

The first course was Devonport for their official event, which I took at what I thought was an easy pace of 6:33/k for a time of 32:56. That was way too fast, but I thought that I handled it reasonably well. After having my barcode scanned and meeting up with Adam, our organiser, I headed out for my second run at Devonport, which I completed in a time of 34:30 or 6:51/k. That was closer to my goal but still a tad fast. I then had a coffee with Val and some of our Devonport parkrun friends at Drift Café before heading off for my third run at Devonport. While I was running, Val went for a wade at Bluff Beach and was ready for me at the conclusion of this run in a time of 34:40 or 6:55/k.

I dropped Val home and then drove out to Port Sorell where I was planning on doing my next three runs, which would have taken me to a quarter of the 24 hours. I started my first run there alone, but after a while had caught up with Adam who was walking/jogging because of a rolled ankle. He decided to run with me, which meant a faster pace than I had planned, as I completed the course in 33:15 or 6:40/k. For my break I headed back to the car for a gel and a drink. As I was getting to the car fridge I was bitten by a large ant because I had inadvertently stood on their nest. That left me concerned in case I had an adverse reaction to the bite. My next run took me 36:23 or 7:20/k. During this run I had cramping in my left calf and the beginning of a back spasm. When I finished, Deb Hicks, the ED at Port Sorell parkrun, who is also part of the Port Sorell Surf Life Saving Club, caught up with me and very kindly offered to help me in any way that I needed. That was so thoughtful of her. Fortunately, I had everything I needed. For my third run at Port Sorell, I started off with Todd as he wanted to run there again before we headed back to Devonport to complete the rest of the event on their course. I kept up with his 7:00/k pace until I needed to stop after 2k for a bubbler as I was getting so thirsty, in spite of having had so much to drink in my break. That drink still didn’t fully relieve my thirst, but I kept on and thought that I was slowly catching up to him until the effects of the heat and humidity began to get to me. My back spasm worsened, and it slowed me down quite a bit.

As I was driving back into Devonport for my next runs, I began to feel lightheaded and dizzy. Was this a bit of heatstroke? I took it carefully, finishing off one bottle of water on the way. Arriving at Devonport, I immediately had a jam sandwich and more fluid before walking down to the start of the parkrun course. Adam and Todd had both left earlier. I crossed paths with Todd after about 1k and Adam before the halfway turn. However, I was beginning to suffer with my back spasm which were progressively getting worse. There were times when all I could do was walk to ease the pain and I had to start asking myself whether I should continue or pull out. When I finished my seventh course, I told Adam that I wouldn’t continue, so I drove home.

Val ran me a bath and provided mugs of tea as well as a banana, an apricot, raspberries, and some chocolate while I also finished off one of my bottles of energy drink. After an hour of lazing in the bath I thought that I had better get out, which is when the cramps really started. I did manage to finally get out and the cramping began to ease up for the rest of the day. Later, much later at 9:15 pm, we drove down to the start of the Devonport parkrun course, and I did another freedom run (a walk this time) to bring my total to eight for the day.

One lesson that I hope I learnt was the need to keep hydrated. I thought that I had been drinking copiously (even pausing at bubblers along the way), but obviously, with the heat and humidity, it wasn’t enough as my mouth was continuously dry.