Having everything organised like a military operation, we had checked in and emerged from the chaos of the registration area by 5:30 so that we could get on with the important business of freezing in the pre-dawn chill. We shuffled about, lubing and stretching and yawning in nervousness as much as tiredness. The run I had been preparing for since last September was about to commence. Many a time during the last ten months I probably sounded like a crazy person. I mean, who dedicates almost a year of training to one race?
The scheduled race start of 7:00 AM was delayed by nearly twenty minutes because some teams weren't yet checked in. There had been a queue for registration that snaked its way out into the car park and part way around the building half an hour before. I guess when they allowed for registration to commence from 5:00 they expected people to start checking in then, and not from when the rush started at 6:00. Times like that I'm glad for my excessively conservative nature.
They had the traditional reciting of The Ode, waving at the Diggers, and murdering of the Last Post before we finally set off for a couple of km of bitumen to the back of Mudgeeraba. On the way, one of the older and more experienced members of the team demonstrated to the nearby throng his patented Moving ViolationTM much to the varied amusement and horror of the aforementioned throng. It was the first of many such incidents, and received the same amazed reaction every time.
We arrived at CP2, the first crew checkpoint, about five minutes before our estimated time and after dumping gloves and beanies, and picking up packs, were under way for the serious hills ahead. The first big hills were between checkpoints two and three, and although they were a difficult opening to the day, we forged ahead and moved up a couple of places from around thirtieth to around twenty-eighth. Mostly, the people we were running near were in about the same shape as us, and we were likely to be seeing them all day.
Between checkpoint two and three we encountered our first fallen competitor. A young bloke from one of the school teams had fainted and was in the recovery position beside the road. While I tried to call for help using my mobile phone, Geoff stayed and got the young fellow responding and Peter and Sean took off for the water stop up the road. The water stop crew returned shortly after with a ute to check the young bloke out, and we headed off.
Checkpoint four and five arrived soon enough, and I told the guys the hill behind us was the worst of the day. There were still bad ones to come, however, and after a long lunch break at CP5 we headed off to the next. Fortunately the creeks were even lower than they had been during the Mini Kokoda and we mostly managed to keep our feet dry through the section from Polly’s Café / CP5 to Numinbah Hall / CP7. Although we had a longer lunch than most of the teams around our pace, we maintained our position from CP5 to the dinner break at Numinbah Hall.
A quick change into warmer clothes and a bowl of noodles and we were out of CP7 and wearing headlights. Because we were taking a little longer in the checkpoints than other teams, eating and changing clothes, we had slipped down to about 45th place by CP7. We were still very much on track for our goal finish time of twenty hours, but Geoff’s heel and an adjacent blister were hampering him a lot through this section, and we only really managed to maintain this place through to CP 10. This checkpoint occurs at Sid Duncan Park, and is the highest point on the course, overlooking the Hinze Dam. It’s terribly exposed, and even on a pretty still night like the 17th and morning of the 18th it’s as cold as charity. We huddled under coats and slurped up bowls of noodles before packing off for the last third of the course.
Our spirits seemed to lift coming out of Sid Duncan, as I assured the guys that the worst of the course was behind us. I’m not sure they believed me, as I had said that several times earlier that day. But we pressed on regardless and crept a couple of positions up the field to jog in to the last crew stop, Checkpoint 12. By this stage Geoff’s heel was giving him serious gyp going up the hills and we were starting to slide off our twenty hour goal time. But we figured what the hell and jogged off with a gut full of beans, noodles and beef casserole washed down with Coca-Cola provided by our incredibly selfless and tireless crew.
The last two sections saw us catch up to have at one stage one hundred minutes to do ten kilometres of hills and achieve our twenty hour target. But tiring and aching bodies can only do so much and we eventually crossed the finish line in twenty hours and nine minutes as a team of four euphoric and exhausted mates. It’s funny, but I had to shout out a large Whoop as we neared the finish line, because I suddenly had a brick stuck in my throat.
We finally finished in 38 th position overall and 27 th complete team.
We were very glad to see Parso at the finish line, continuing to defy rumours of his demise, as well as our crew of Murray and Tim who had been like mother hens fussing and flapping about us for the whole day and half of the night. Thanks for the great support, guys.
Francis, Peter, Sean, and Geoff.
Tim has some pics of the event here
