I had initially been looking at going back to run UTA100 this year, but logistically and financially it was out of the equation for me unfortunately. So instead, I started looking around for potential options a bit closer to home and the Guzzler 100 caught my interest; a brand new event quite local to the Gold Coast with a lot of familiar faces in the area that would likely be running or at the event. Initially the timing was perfect for my husband and daughter to crew for me as the weekend was a bye for his soccer team (unfortunately the draw then changed boo! But I got another super crew instead yay).
Working with my awesome coach Dave again, my training in the months leading up to the race had been 100% spot on. Until a few weeks before the race, I had only missed about 3 sessions in total and was feeling physically the best I had been going into a race. Unfortunately, my Mum’s battle with dementia worsened and she passed away 3.5wks beforehand. Emotionally, it was the worst prep I could hope to have leading up to attempting another 100km ultra – I wasn’t sleeping properly, my mind was a mess, and I would cry at the drop of a hat. But I shifted my focus for the race; I was not going to run with time or pace in mind, it would simply be a day and a night in the forest and just taking each moment as it came. Yes there would be highs, and lows, and tears no doubt, but I would embrace them all and just keep moving forward. In the days before the race, I felt very calm and relaxed, no nerves at all. I am a notorious planner and organiser (did someone say OCD) and so I was preparing lists and instructions for my crew, packing my checkpoint bags, packaging up all my nutrition I would need etc. I dropped everything off to Sue the morning before and then stayed the night at one of my friend’s parent’s house in Brisbane to avoid a super early start in the morning. We arrived at the race precinct with plenty of time and still there were no nerves, instead I was taking moments to chat with friends and grab a few pre-race selfies. The first time I would see my crew was at CP3 at 31km, and so I had arranged to text them as I passed through CP2 at 23km and again with a few km to go. That way they could have a restful morning before being up all day and night. My husband had mentioned that spectators could come to CP1 but I said there wasn’t any point as I would be passing through pretty quickly and unsure of what time I would. Before we knew it, 6.30am rolled around and we were off. At that exact moment, I was hit by a rush of adrenalin and couldn’t breathe as we ran through the starting arch! Awesome lol thankfully though it passed quickly enough and I was off. The beginning of the race starts with a few km of uphill and I settled into a nice easy hike up. The very rough plan was to hike every up, run all the runnable downs very conservatively and run the flats. No times in mind, but as a rough guess I would get to CP1 around 9.30am and CP3 around 12.30pm. My fuelling for the day was planned to be 30 mins shot blok, 1hr potatoes, 1hr 30 mins shot blok, 2hr gel, repeat, plus Trailbrew for hydration and water. During this section, I fell into step with an awesome gentleman who was running his first ever 100km only a few years after a total hip replacement, what a legend! I was so pleased to see that he finished and achieved his goal! A few km in and the front runner (and eventual winner) of the 50km, Ben Duffus, ran past me – they started 30 minutes later than the 100km runners. In 10 seconds he was gone from sight, but it was honestly a thing of magic to watch him run down those hills. I came through CP1 just after 9am, feeling nice and relaxed. Quick pit stop for the toilet and refill water and Trailbrew and I was off. The section between CP1 and CP2 was a little technical in spots, quite rocky and little steep incline/declines etc. Through here, I was being overtaken by more of the 50km runners as both 50km and 100km do the exact same course up to CP3. It was actually a little scary at some points, as I was trying to be conservative and careful especially on the downs as my knees are notorious for playing up in races, yet on narrow single tracks people behind me were trying to fly past. I would pull off the moment I could in order to let them pass but there were a few moments that could have ended badly... I got to CP2 safely though, and almost out of water meaning I had drunk 2L of water and 1L of Trailbrew in 23km. I hadn’t expected the day to be quite so warm, and it seemed a lot of others were surprised by the heat also, not what you think when you think of mid winter. I thought briefly about texting my crew but then realised they would be tracking my progress on the live tracker and decided to just text them a few km out. Straight after CP2 is the infamous Hell Hole shuffle, quite a steep down and up section that we would actually do twice – now and again after CP5 around approx. 84km. As I was going down the first time, I was thinking of strategies I would need to adopt the second time around. At the top of that section were some lovely people with Crampfix sachets. I had never tried them before but picked one up and added it to my pack just in case. Around here a lovely friend of mine Sally caught up with me, as she was running the 50km. It was so nice to run/hike together for a little bit, catching up and chatting away. With 2km before CP3 I messaged my crew to say I was close. After descending down the hill to CP3, I said hi to some friends that were there and looked around for my crew but couldn’t see them. I checked my phone and saw the following message “f*cking hell, we’re still on the highway, we will be there in 20 mins”. SH*T. Turns out the live tracker hadn’t been updating reliably and so they were still working on me getting there around 12.30pm, when in fact I was ahead by an hour!!! Eeeeeeeek!!! The set up of CP3 was that you ran through it, did a small loop up around Gold Creek Reservoir wall and then came back down again. So I grabbed a handful of chips, some watermelon and a straight black coffee shot (wooooo!) and set off on the small loop with Sally and another mate Ryan who was doing the 100km and started 30 minutes late as he had the start time wrong lol and then came back to wait for them. Thankfully I only had to wait for another 5 minutes before they got there, poor loves were so flustered, so I didn’t have to think about heading off without my nutrition. Sue told me that my husband had still driven up to see me at CP1 but missed me by about 40 minutes (told you so!) I refilled all my nutrition and Trailbrew, added more chafe cream and sunscreen and off I went. The track looped around the reservoir and then the 100km branched off away from the 50km at this point. By this time of day, the heat was roasting (it was 26 degrees WTF! Go home QLD winter weather, you’re drunk!), and this particular section was fairly uncovered, rocky AF, unrelenting ups and void of any people at all. My watch was out of sync to where the elevation map on the bib said, and I kept waiting for the downhill that was supposed to be coming and it just wasn’t ☹ I struggled greatly on this section, trying so hard to get out of my head, even resorted to putting on my music to distract me (which I had wanted to save for night time). My hot flushes started coming on thick and fast, and I was overheating pretty quickly. There was a water station around the 41km mark and when I pulled in there were a handful of people that looked as dead on their feet as I felt, including a FB friend Lisa who we had been messaging for weeks trying to coordinate a training run together unsuccessfully. I didn’t want to wait around too long or I may not get moving again, so I refilled everything, took some Nurofen as my left knee and back were a bit achy and off I went. A group of guys headed off just after me and we kind of ran/walked with each other through to CP4 at Lake Manchester which was supposed to be around 55km but my watch said 59km. By this point, I felt like I had been cooked from the inside out and was exhausted. Physically feeling fine in my body and mind, just no energy. I had continued to follow my fuelling schedule to this point and had consumed about 5.5L of fluids by this point. I felt fine to continue but figured I would just be hiking the rest to try and conserve some energy. My crew were there and had everything laid out for me (no running late this time! lol). My stomach was starting to feel a little over the sweet stuff so I ate some more chips and nibbled on my vegemite sandwich, and had some coffee. I got a few leg cramps here so didn’t sit for long, just moving around to not allow them to set in. Refilled everything up and then I left the checkpoint just as sunset was starting and was rewarded with a beautiful stunning purple sunset over the lake. I had been looking out for signs of Mum all day, and whilst I didn’t get to see any butterflies or rainbows, I was seeing purple things everywhere and felt a lot of comfort. I was taking teeny sips of the Crampfix to hold off the cramps, but dear god that stuff needs to come with warning alerts - it’s like sipping straight vinegar! Though they must work as no more cramps. I fell in step with another guy and we chatted for a bit as it got dark, but he still had a bit more energy and headed off to run the runnable bits and I was then left alone. I had been nervous about being by myself in the dark but it wasn’t bad at all. Around 58km (by the course map, 62km on my watch), I started to vomit. It wasn’t huge soul shaking vomits, but they were quite regular and I couldn’t seem to put anything in my mouth long enough for it to be absorbed before it came back up again. I didn’t stress too much at this point as I knew how much nutrition and hydration I had taken on during the day, and just decided to hold off trying to take anything else to let it settle down. Unfortunately this continued each time I tried to eat or drink anything. I put my music back on to try and distract me, as I knew a gnarly 3km of continuous up was coming and there would be a water station at the top. Mentally and physically things were really tough on this section. I kept trying to remind myself that time and pace didn’t matter, it was just a day and a night in the forest. But the track was horrible, my stomach was massively swollen and sore, I had to undo all the straps on my pack as it was cutting into me, and I was starting to get dizzy heading up the hill. I picked up a big stick to help steady myself and just kept moving very slowly forward. The water station actually ended up looking like a mini aid station, and as I arrived I was weaving a bit over the track. The volunteers sat me down as I was looking very white in the pace and dry heaving. I messaged my crew to let them know what was happening, and I wasn’t sure what to do from this point. I think I sat at the water station for around 30 minutes (no idea of time) and during this time, my friend Lisa and her friend Adrian had arrived and she was feeling much better than when I saw her at the 41km water station. After managing to keep a few sips of hydralite down as well as some ice and a potato, Lisa offered for me to head off with her and Adrian to the next checkpoint which was supposed to be 83km. Now just after this water station was one of the worst sections of the race known as Township Break – 1.5km of super steep decline followed by 1.5km of super steep incline. I was nervous about continuing as once you start that section there’s not a great deal anyone can do to come and get you out easily. But I put my big girl pants on and away we went. In the weeks before, I had managed to train on this section and knew how brutal it could be, and so I made the decision to go down backwards on my hands and knees and thankfully it worked a treat and I got down to the bottom with no damage or falls. Getting back out was exhausting and super slow, I had to keep stopping to try and regather myself as I had zero energy. The trail between the water station and CP5 sucked – it was again so rocky, so many steep hills, just not enjoyable at all. I was continuing to vomit each time I tried to put something in my mouth, and so was just trying to soldier on with no food or hydration. My watch clicked over 83km and we were no where near CP5, which is so soul crushing when you’re on struggle street like that. Physically I was fine as far as no injuries or niggles etc. My feet felt like I had been walking on concrete for 100 years, but nothing I couldn’t keep doing. But the dizziness was getting worse and I had to keep stopping to steady myself. Lisa kept checking maps.me to see how far off we were as I kept contemplating walking out to the road and sitting there for my crew. Lisa messaged ahead to let them know that I was in a bad way and with about 1.5km to go, one of the volunteers from CP5 Geoff met us in order to walk me back while letting Lisa and Adrian go ahead. He kept telling me to not make the decision yet to pull out but I was feeling so sick and dizzy, and I couldn’t contemplate continuing on for another 17km-ish km in that condition. I arrived at CP5 around 2.30am, which means it had been around 7hrs since I had kept anything of substance down and had been going for 30km with no food or hydration. As I walked up to the CP, my crew came over to me and I was quite unsteady on my feet. I was directed to a chair in front of the portable heaters and the medics came over to check me over. My memories of CP5 are fairly vague and blurred, but I remember my vitals being checked, being asked weird questions like “does anything hurt?” (um, I just ran 88km what do you think?), and just an overall sick feeling. My blood pressure was in the normal zone but high for me and I remember the medic saying I was dehydrated. My crew can probably fill you in more on what went down at CP5! I’ve pushed through some fairly tough races, run with injuries and been completely underdone going into a race, but I’ve also seen people first-hand suffering from Rhabdo and ending up in hospital. I thought to myself I’m not an elite racer, this isn’t my job. I’m just a Mum who runs, and above all else my daughter needs her Mum to be home and not in hospital. The section from CP5 to the finish line covers some fairly rough remote terrain including parts with no phone reception and I wondered what would I do if I got worse out there and couldn’t contact anyone, or fell over or passed out? At what point was it worth pushing on? After sitting in CP5 for awhile, I finally made the call to stop my race at an official time of 19:52 (the CP was supposed to be 83km, but my watch said 88km and others said over 90km). At the time I was too sick and exhausted to even cry about my second 100km DNF, I just wanted to go home. My crew were telling me about other people who had DNF while they were waiting for me to come in, lots of unwell people that day it seemed. The next day I tried to process more of what happened – the usual What Ifs swirling around my head; what if I had a nap at CP5 first before quitting, what if I could keep some food down eventually, what if I made the call too early and could have pushed on, what if I’m not strong enough after all and I keep fooling myself into thinking I am? To be honest, the only thing that made me feel slightly better was to hear how many others also pulled out due to heat and vomiting. I am sad for them of course, but it at least confirmed to me that I was right to take it seriously. In the days that have followed, I have focused on the positives to come out of my Guzzler experience:
So there you have it, my attempt at the inaugural Guzzler 100. It tested me physically and mentally, and whilst it may have got the better of me, I learnt a lot during the day and night. I need to say a massive thank you to my crew Sue, Natalie and Alicia, who gave up their day and night to follow me around a forest, who made sure I had what I needed and then got me home safely when I broke. To my awesome coach Dave, thanks for the fantastic tough training program that enabled me to get to that start line in the best shape I could be and gave me the confidence to attempt another 100km race. Whilst it wasn’t the outcome we hoped for, the training has put me in such a good position physically that I’m ready for the next challenge already. To my husband and daughter, thank you for putting up with me these last few months – it isn’t easy to support someone training for an endurance event. The long training sessions, the super early morning sessions which mean super early bed times, the mood swings etc. Not to mention the support I needed to get through saying goodbye to my Mum in the middle of it all. And finally, to the people that take the time to read my blog and comment on my posts etc, thank you for all of your messages of encouragement and support, and of commiseration and condolences. It may not seem like much but it means the world to me that people actually take the time to read and respond, so thank you x Gear: Shoes - Inov8 TrailTalon 290 Watch - Suunto 9 Baro Pants - Pink Punk Active short tights Socks - Injinji Pack - Salomon Adv 12 set 2019 model Headlamp - Petzl Actik Core Hydration - Trail Brew Nutrition - Spring Energy gels (Canaberry flavour), Shot Bloks, steamed salted potatoes Chafe cream - Squirrels Nut Butter and tube of Paw Paw cream for on course
1 Comment
David Bell
2/8/2019 08:33:09 am
Congratulations Rhia that was a great account of your run great decision making at check point true there is only one of you, I wished I had a caught up to you I think I could have but I couldn't runaway and leave my mate in the dark struggling with cramp and blisters
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AuthorHi, I'm Rhiannon and welcome to my blog. I'm not an elite athlete and I may never win any races, but I'm a "real" runner, juggling work, family and life to achieve my running goals. Archives
October 2020
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