100km UltraMarathon in the Blue Mountains, NSW, Australia
I ran this 100km race on 14th May 2011 (and a little bit of the 15th). This was my first long event, and since it took me rather a lot of effort, and many have enquired into my general health and wellbeing after the event, so I thought I would put a summary and a few pics together.
What is it?
The NF100 is a 100km off-road running event through the Blue Mountains, 2 hours drive from Sydney. The Blue Mountains national park is extraordinarily beautiful and wild, and very remote (enough to lose this guy for 12 days…!). The race has rapidly become one of the highest profile Ultramarathons in the Southern Hemisphere, due at least in part to the amazing terrain through which it passes. The quota of 850 runners fills up fast. This may seem curious, given the entrants are signing themselves up to run 100km over day and night, including 5km of vertical ascent and 5km of descent, much on stairs, ladders or bolder strewn hillsides. But popular it certainly is.
For those of a technical disposition, the elevation profile looks like this:
Why did I decide to do it?
I started running with purpose in the spring of 2009. In the summer I read ‘Born to Run’, which I can’t recommend highly enough. It is an amazing book that installed in me the belief, whether well founded or not, that running ‘ultra’ long distances was firstly good fun, and secondly completely achievable by absolutely anyone. So I decided I would work towards a long run to prove the point, and to have an experience in the process. I spent the first 3 months of the 2 years learning how to run, then the rest of the time getting fit, strong and mentally prepared.
The event
I rolled up to the event after a busy week in Sydney, with Roo & Coralie, my wonderful support team, and Andrew Tolley who was running the event as well. Roo had run the event the previous 2 years and was a major source of inspriation to me to enter. Starting from the five star Fairmont Resort, the place was rather a surreal environment, jam packed as it was with wiry athletic types sporting every combination of technical equipment imaginable, all heading for the mandatory 'gear check'. In the ballroom, together with the other 850 competitors, they checked that every one of us was carrying a large list of essential survival equipment, including firelighters, waterproofs, thermals, headtorches, survival blankets, maps, compass, whistle etc. etc. etc. Suffice it to say that this ends up being quite a large encumbrance when stuffed into a pack and carried for 60 miles!
Large quantities of carbohydrate and a far too short sleep later, we headed out at 6am for a race briefing. Apart from the usual aussie warnings about the lethal wildlife, they pointed out that we were about to run in zero degree temperatures, with wind chill on top, so the gloves and hats came out pretty quickly. Gorgeous blue skys and luminescent orange sunrise there might have been, warmth there was not!
And we set off! In waves based on ability and to prevent us all being trampled, we headed into the hills at about 7am. Such a bunch of excited grins is rarely to be seen outside the confines of a 2am dance club, obviously the months of preparation, anticipation and trepidation had left us a very excited mass of runners, and the spirit was tremendous and we took our first strides.
It would be tricky to put into words the scenery we ran through, and how it made the 18 hours fly by, but perhaps some of the pictures in this post give you an idea.
I realise now that I had absolutely no idea at all what was to meet me on the trail ahead, and perhaps the lack of knowledge served me well! The course was made up of large quantities of dirt tracks and rough, rocky single track paths. However the rocky bluffs of the Blue Mountains were not designed for easy running, so many of the paths involved leaping up and down flights of stairs, and even ladders. Many of the hills involved clinging on to boulders and trees, either to haul oneself up the hillside, or prevent an embarassing or terminal descent! In fact to describe this a 100km run rather misses out the fact that a large part of the course is certainly physically demanding, but entirely unrunnable. If anyone can explain how Kilian Jornet managed to average 11kmh for the whole course, I would be interested, but still suspect he must have taken some shortcuts!
The other obstacle thrown in our way was the night of course. Those guys who finished in 10 hours certainly had it easy, as after that we all gradually disappeared into our remote headtorch light bubbles. I ran the final 35kms in the dark, with the surreal vision of a line of tiny lights bobbing around in the trees and hillsides ahead of me. We had a near full moon and a clear night, which made for a cold but beautful environment, and a few hours of dreamlike floating through the mountains that I will never forget. This crazy little world I inhabited for 7 hours was puntuated by the occasional grins of deranged runners - running, picnicing, or horizontal in equal measure - a friendly man tending a fire and offering cheers of encouragement to the wounded, a pot of the world's finest noodles at km 89, and the welcome glow and cheers at the Fairmont Resort as we neared the finish.
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| In the middle of the night at 80kms - the camera flash nearly made me fall in the river! |
My amazing support!
The event was punctuated by 5 checkpoints, the first of which were a perfunctory stop to fill up with water, gels, buns, pears and anything else we could stuff into ourselves before heading on. At kilometer 54, checkpoint 3 (then later at 65 and 89kms) the support teams arrived, and it was with great excitment that I met my team, being encircled in all manner of comforts, blankets, comfy chairs, and even a Jazz band playing along in the background! Tempting though it was to stay, I did manage to tear myself away and head back to the trail.
I would not even consider setting foot on this course without a good support team, in fact without Andrew & Coralie Laurie (and Jack of course) to provide words of encouragement, drinks and pot noodles. Their experience of the event from the past helped, but the no-nonsense refuel him and kick him out approach was exactly what was required. Thank you yet again - I look forward to returning the favour in Chamonix!
The end!
Not much to say, but I was glad to get there! More noodles, beer and sleep - a perfect ending.
It's about not running, it's eating, drinking and not thinking...
Getting to the finish line of an ultra event like this has very little to do with running or even physical fitness, though I guess a bit of that certainly helps! Really it's about food and drink and what goes on in your head.
They say that these long races are really an eating and drinking competition, with which I entirely concur. If what goes in doesn't match what goes out, you will eventually fall over! For the first time I made myself eat and drink as a religion, marking off rigid 15 minute intervals between consumption. I didn't missed a single 15 minutes - I don't think I exactly gained weight during the event, as the legendary Yiannis Kourous is purpotedly able to do, but I don't think it would be possible for me to have eaten any more!
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| Jack & Roo in awe of my Pot Noodle enthusiasm... |
The other key for me was being disiplined about just thinking about what was going on now, rather than what lay ahead. I am sure that this applies for most human endeavours that require a little endurance. Blocking out all thoughts of the event as a whole, of why or where I was, and focusing on running well, on enjoying the moment, on the ever present need to eat and drink.
Recovery...
I was surprisingly OK afterwards. OK, so walking like a constipated duck, and struggling to get in and out of cars, but fundamentally everything working, nothing broken. Prior to the race I was thinking the most difficult part of the whole endeavour would be getting onto a long haul flight back to the UK the following afternoon. Economy too. And without the extra legroom.
Daunting indeed, but in hindsight, what better recovery could one have than 24 hours of enforced lounging in front of movies with beer and food (yes, more noodles!) brought at the press of a button! I perhaps engaged in some of the more peculiar stretching exercises that are seen in the skies, but basically all rather uneventful, even a pleasure!
What next?
The whole process of deciding to do the race, entering, preparing and doing have been a lesson in how easy it is to do things that we otherwise consider impossible. Not so long ago that is exactly what running 100km through the mountains would have been to me. But I decided that I could do it, and decided that it would not be a big deal and got on with it. And I was right. We limit ourselves so much by the assumptions we make about our capabilities, and for me at least, it is rare to find the motivation to genuinely explore those limits. I would love to think this adventure is the start a process that goes way beyond the running and leads to all the more fun and some rich experiences to come.
But to stick to the running for a moment, I am keen to do more, on a quest for things that will continue to add challenge and the total engagement that this race demanded. That doesn't have to mean harder and longer, maybe just different. I want to get into the fell running back in the UK much more - its a lovely 'scene' and with some spectacular places to run - and maybe some of the big races such as UTMB will be a realistic target some day.
More importantly, perhaps I should just go out running and enjoy it.
