I ran the Ultra Trail Australia 50km on Saturday. It was the second time I've run that race, though a different course. It was an interesting day. I was hoping to run 6:30 to 7 hours, after running 7:39 last year. Everyone said the course this year was much tougher than last year, and I do agree, but I'd trained on it a lot and was another year stronger than the same time in 2017.
Toeing the line in Start Group 3 with good friends, I got out nice and easy, sticking to a strategy of cruising downs, maintaining a good but not top pace on the flats and not overworking the ups. Through the first 17km to the first checkpoint I was doing well, having managed the very difficult climbing down, up, down and up into the valley from the escarpment through through the Leura Cascades, and it was amazing to see Skye waiting for me. A quick kiss and word on the phone to the kids and I was off. The next stage was hard too, but I stayed with it and kicked myself to run the flats through Tablelands Road as my body was starting to tell me it wasn't cruising anymore. I made the 28.8km checkpoint at QVH right on best-case time. Hoping for 3:30, I arrived at 3:23 and gave myself 7 minutes of fingerbun eating/warm flat coke drinking rest.
The next stretch was the Kedumba valley, 22km of straight down followed by straight up. Two weeks earlier I ran this section in training in 2:30. I knew I couldn't do that now but dared to dream of 3 hours. My plan was to stick to form and fly downhill. In hindsight, it's where I started to fall apart. My legs were tired, obviously, and as I went down I realised they were wobbly and I was having difficulty maintaining strict cadence, good mid-strike and tight footfall. They were just tired. And I paid for it. With 12 to go, I started to climb back up. 8km of steep mountain climb lay in front and it was very, very hard. I was feeling sick and deep, dark, doubts were entering my mind. In my previous ultras I'd never heard those negative thoughts but I heard them in Kedumba.
Sadly, they got to me in a way I'm still disappointed to acknowledge. By the time I hit the last aid station, with 6 or so to go, I was aware time was slipping well away and 6:30 was impossible. Embarrassingly, I even fleetingly contemplated quitting. Only for a moment but it happened. Friends started to pass me here, and their words of encouragement meant a lot, from Ger (running the hills!) to Clare and Tom. A bloke called Andrew in particular from the Squadrun family was hurting but stuck with me for a few hundred gruelling metres uphill, trying to distract me. I really appreciated it, even if I couldn't talk back. Brian found me when I hit the Sewerage works, the last hill push, 5 to go. I couldn't run by then, as the poor downhill had lead to a searing ITB in my left knee, just like last year's UTA. Agony on anything flat or downhill. Brian stayed with me too but with my blessing reluctantly pushed on and finished incredibly well. I walk/ran through the next four in the Leura forest, and then hit the Furber stairs, people passing me and frustrating weighing heavily. Furber took way too long to climb, but I made it to the top and managed a run through the chute. My time was ultimately 7:15, a great result in the context of the course and last year, but I can't shake the feeling of how much I left down on Kedumba.
Next year, next year, they say and we'll see where I am then. There's so many ultras around, and Margaret River really sounds enticing... but for now, UTA is done.
Couple photos.
And this one is called 'Are you there, God? It's me, Adam, and I need some help on these stairs.' It's about 400m from the end which is a 951 step climb.
And the profile -