Pomona’s Bendigo Bank International Mountain Challenge definitely lived up to its reputation as a one of the toughest little mountain races.  Six other kiwis and I travelled to the small town north of Brisbane to represent the Kawerau King of the mountain race as part of the 29th Trans-Tasman challenge team. The Team consisted of Sjors Corporaal (1st Open in Kawerau, 5th race in Pomona), Lance Downie (3rd Open in Kawerau, first time racing in Pomona), Colin Earwalker (1st Masters in Kawerau, 5th trip to Pomona), Kaya Corporaal (1st Prince of the Mountain Kawerau, 1st start in Pomona), Alie Corporaal (2nd start in Pomona), Dennis Jackson (self-appointed team manager, Kawerau Legend) and myself (Glen Stricot-Tarboton, 1st Junior in Kawerau, 2nd trip to Pomona).

First kiwi and 2nd place finisher Lance Downie. Photo: Raoul Slater, facebook.com/pomonakingofthemountain

15,000 spectators were expected to the day long festival consisting of school relays, a market and fun runs, everything building up to the main event, the International Mountain Challenge.

Once the 100 runners were individually introduced to the crowd, the gun went and the challenge began with nearly 1.5km of gradual climbing, this spread out the field before we hit Mt Cooroora and the running turns into climbing. A gorilla technique (using hands and feet to climb up) technique is used by some but I prefer to pull myself up using the chain on the side of the track.

Reaching the top of the mountain you are rewarded with spectacular views out to Noosa and the Queensland coastline as well as inland to the forests and small towns, that is if you have time to look out. A quick transition between climbing up the rocks to flying down the hill moments later takes a toll on your legs and this is mainly felt in the days following the race.

Lack of rain in the weeks leading up to this year’s race meant the track was very dry and dusty causing the rocks to be deceivingly slippery. At the bottom of the mountain the track heads back to the start/finish line along the same 1.5kms of trail. The last 500 metres are interesting as ‘Heartbreak Hill’ comes near. This incline would be hardly noticed in any other circumstance but after the grueling run up and down Mt Cooroora, this is where the race can be won, or lost as I discovered in last year’s race. Here the spectators line the course and cheer you on. I imagine it is much the same feeling that the Tour de France riders feel at the top of a climb with spectators both sides. The spectators in Pomona are extremely passionate every year and are provided with race programmes so they are able to match your race number to your name and encourage you by name. This is a very cool but spooky feeling having hundreds of strangers calling out your name as you run past them.

The blue skies, sunshine and warm temperatures made for a beautiful escape from the cold New Zealand winter but it was extremely hot for racing.

Glen, right, and Bryce Hegarty (# 7) just before we reach the base of the mountain. Photo taken by Michael Leadbetter

Immediately from the start we started to head up the hill, a front pack of runners consisted of Ben Duffus (2013 Pomona winner and favourite to win again), Sjors, Lance and a few other front runners had formed, with myself and Bryce Hegarty (19 year old Local boy who just beat me last year) just tucked in behind the leaders. My main goal for the race was to beat Bryce and he just wanted to beat me, a healthy Trans-Tasman rivalry. Nearing the top of the mountain I had a gap of about 10 seconds on Bryce but from nowhere a local 13 year old appeared right behind me. Knowing that the other two boys were not far behind I focused on the transition from uphill to downhill. In the days leading up to the race Sjors and I studied this top section and I had a plan of what I thought the fastest line would be. So I went for it down the steep rocky hill to make a gap on the others.

I felt good going down and I lost the others behind me by the time I passed Sjors near the bottom of the mountain. On the final undulating 1.5kms to the finish Sjors strode effortlessly past me. After sticking on his tail I let him go in order to save some energy for the last hardest obstacle of the day, Heartbreak Hill. A quick look back revealed Bryce 200 metres behind me, nervous of having a reply of last year’s race when he passed me on Heartbreak Hill, I pushed up the hill trying not to burn out as everyone cheered me on. Once at the top I was relieved to not hear the crowds continuing to cheer for any runner behind me, I was on the home stretch. A few hundred metres later I crossed the finish line, 20 seconds ahead of Bryce, placing me 6th overall and first junior.

Overall my time was 2 seconds slower than last year, but it was definitely a tougher day this year. 2013 winner Ben Duffus continued his winning form by comfortably winning again. Murupara possum hunter, Lance Downie had a great run passing a few runners on his way down to get into second place and the first Kiwi to cross the line. Sjors Corporaal had been sick a couple weeks ago which affected his training leading up to the race, but still finished in 5th place overall. Colin Earwalker had some troubles slowing him down for the downhill section of the costing him some time, but he finished third in his category. Kaya and Alie Corporaal (son and daughter of Sjors) both had really good runs and left Pomona with intentions of returning to race in Pomona in the future. Overall it was once again a really awesome trip, the race was hard and the weather was fantastic.

A huge thanks goes to the team at Pomona King of the Mountain for putting on an awesome event, Meagan Edhouse and the Kawerau Harriers Club for sending us Kiwis to Pomona, and Barry Stewart (Pomona Race organiser) for taking us into your home for the time we’re there.

Photos by Maranui Aitamai, http://www.photo-action.nc/, Sakiko Miyake and Sebastien Barreau.

Au revoir Nouvelle Zelande, bonjour Nouvelle Caledonie! Heading off to my first international ultra, I was looking forward to adventure. The flight to New Caledonia is a cruisy 2 and a half hours. Stepping off the plane was like stepping into a heat chamber. Race director David Esposito picked me up, along with Maranui Aitamai from Tahiti, another invited athlete. David was buoyant and enthusiastic, doing 10 things at once while talking on the phone. I stayed a night at David and Christine’s house, and then headed over to the Parc where the race would be on Friday afternoon.

There, I met my temporary flatmates and fellow foreigners Jeremy Ritcey (Canada, currently Hong Kong), and Stephen Rennick and wife Saki Miyake (Melbourne). We were sleeping at a little hut right near the race finish. There was a good slippery clay slope right beside it, so we could skate around and test out shoe combos. Ruby Muir had suggested taking socks to wear over the shoes as she’d seen locals doing that the previous year. I decided to go with Fivefinger Spyridons + socks for the comfort factor, and perhaps change to Inov8s at the 50k checkpoint as we had a drop bag there. I’d also learned from Ruby to take supplies if I wanted to eat vegetarian, so my bag probably equalled 60% food, 30% shoes, 10% clothes. It’s good to have a wise predecessor.

We went for a run to check out the course and ended up mildly lost. Everyone seem to have a story about running extra last year, so I vowed to pay extra attention to the ribbons. As we retired for the evening, the organizers were still going strong. It’s a small and hardworking team that put the event on. It started to rain.

Saturday morning.

Light rain gave way to hot sun on the morning of the race. The start was a kilometre or so away and relatively late at 10am, allowing plenty of time for repacking and doubt. In all this time, I forgot to put on sunscreen, but Saki saved me by running back to get some (legend).

…Cinq, quatre, tres, deux, un – departe! We set off along a clay fire road, weaving down a bit and up the first rise. I knew the elevation profile featured about 8 big hills with around 3 – 400m of climbing, and a few smaller ones of 1 – 200 (this relative vagueness would be regretted before the day was out). The first hours went smoothly, walking most uphills and appreciating the glorious landscape. Coming down to Pont Perignon, the first checkpoint at 15k, was a beautiful site.

We passed through in good time and I started making tentative plans to knock this thing out in 10 or 11 hours – no problem! David had suggested the winner should take 9.15 or so, but the guys and I privately wondered if that might be a little soft. Ah, hindsight.

This plan first unwound a little during a long near-vertical climb with ropes and much use of branches. Knew there was a reason (other) people do press-ups and whatnot. I greeted Mara as I passed and hoped he’d rally soon. Afterwards there was an excellent roll downhill through some jungle. My water ran out, as I’d been guzzling it in the humidity. A runner and I decided en route that we’d probably covered 30k by now, so the next checkpoint and chance to fill up should come any minute. Dropping down on to the road there was a sign – 20k. Ah. Bother. I wasn’t wearing a GPS as the battery life isn’t up to anything over 6 hours, and I like not worrying about speed etc anyway. But they have their useful side.

28k – 50k

It started to rain lightly, which meant I wasn’t super hot any more. There was some moderately flat/undulating tracks and then the 28k checkpoint at Pont Germain – a welcome sight. As I filled up with water and snacked, a cagou (the suavely crested native bird the event is named after) suddenly strolled confidently out of the bush as if to say ‘Bonjour! How are you enjoying my race?’ That had me smiling as I set off again for a roped river crossing.

By now my hill procedure was sorted – stride up them, lollop down, roll onward to the next climb. Whether it was due to weather, the different course, a slower pace or the socks, slipperiness hadn’t been too much of an issue. The semi-technical jungle running was good fun and pleasantly familiar, like trails in the Kaimais.

The field was spread out so I’d been on my own for a while by this point. The self-absorbed happy monotony of an ultra was interspersed with moments of pure wonder that I was lucky enough to be running in such a cool landscape in a foreign country. After all, only a small percentage of people get to see such views, or examine the cool New Caledonian moss that grows at 400m and resembles pale green soapsuds. Peaking the hill after the 38k checkpoint, in the complete middle of nowhere, I came round a corner to see a man in a tent clapping. ‘Fantastic excellent!’ he called. Lovely.

System-check time came as I descended to the 50k checkpoint back at Pont Perignon. Tired? Yes, but in a normal way. Water had run out again but I had a pack swap coming. I was pretty happy with how the Fives and socks had fared on the rocks and clay – not one fall, despite some close calls. I hit the 50k mark in around 6 hours 40, and figured finishing in 11 hours should be no problem, with 4 hours or so left to cover 30k. Surely?

Onwards and upwards – 50k+

I passed the gear check, swapped out the UltrAspire Surge for the Omega which I’d pre-filled, and decided to go ahead with a shoe change as my feet were a bit tender from the descents and the socks were threadbare (50k of rocks etc, not bad for op-shop socks). In hindsight, sticking with the Fives or at least taping my heels before running in new-ish shoes would have been a really good idea.

‘Bon courage!’ supporters called as I left. An appropriate farewell, as courage would certainly be needed for the next sections. As we passed 5.30pm it started to get dark. A new challenge was afoot – night running.

I’d borrowed a couple of LED Lenser headlamps for the race thanks to Steve and Stefan. These were good quality and did the trick for a while. The difficult part was keeping tabs on the orange ribbons that marked the course every 50m or so once the daylight went. The ribbons weren’t really reflective, so often I had slow down but wasn’t taking any risks of getting lost for the sake of time. Climbing again, I could see the Parc laid out in the moonlight and had another flash of gratitude for how amazing it was to be exploring a mountain in New Caledonia in the dark.

We started to hit patches of fog, which made things extremely interesting. Suddenly I couldn’t even see the ground, and searching for the markers got even slower. The terrain was still pretty varied – bush, slippery stuff, fire roads. People started to come past me, mostly those with super-bright Ay Up headlamps and/or poles. The pole people were very fast. Some of these competitors were relay runners, but it was hard to tell – if I looked back, I was blinded by their awesome lighting systems.

Up and down, endless up and down. Lots of walking. Experienced ultra-runner Jeremy had taken a laminated elevation profile with him, with aid stations marked on it – a really good idea. Personally I’d lost count of the ‘big’ hills – a really bad idea.

Dark times

I thought I heard ‘neuf kilometers!’ to go, up near the top, and ran for half an hour figuring it must be the final descent before the end. At a river crossing, the volunteers told me there was actually 10k to go from there. Oh, and I had to turn right to go up another very big hill. Awesome! The fuel I had with me was gone because the run was taking longer than I’d predicted, the blisters hurt, and I was somewhat unimpressed. If 100 milers mean twice of much of this, I never want to do one. (Remind me of that if required). However, I girded my tired loins and stomped grumpily up the slope. Needless to say, a sub-11 or 12 hour finish had gone out the window.

Cresting the top seemed to be a good thing, but coming down was harder. The fog had rolled in again and even both headlamps together weren’t making any headway in the thick patches. ‘Merde!’ said a runner passing carefully. ‘Oh, pardon, good thing you don’t know French.’ Mm, I suspect everyone knows that much French. At a crossroads I wandered in the wrong direction a few times looking for the ribbons, couldn’t find anything, and had to take some deep breaths to regain equilibrium. This is a special kind of crazy. Standing in nothingness on the dark hill crying was a tempting option, but wouldn’t get me any closer to the finish.

Super Julien

Eventually someone came past with a super-torch, so I got going again. Julien turned out to be quite a saviour. He’d done the 53k before, so only got lost half as often as we descended. I’m sure he could have gone faster, but could probably sense the low ebb and gallantly ignored my ‘merci, au revoir’s. Also, being in front meant he was the one to fall into thigh-deep puddles or mud, and I knew what to avoid.

Soreness, raw blisters and wooziness got blanked out in the adrenaline of being nearly there as we covered the final few ks. The last part we ran up a stream through the water. That was also a special kind of ridiculous, but it didn’t matter any more. The lights of the finish were in sight, and from somewhere I found a sprint. J’arrive! Relief and satisfaction descended.

I wanted an adventure and absolutely got one. 12 hours 48 was the final time. The men’s winner, local Ludovic Lanceleur, ran 10.42, demonstrating the non-softness of David’s original prediction. A third of the field didn’t finish.

1^st: Ludovic LANCELEUR – 10.42

2^nd Christophe H LOUBRIAT – 11.08

3^rd: Stephen RENNICK – 11.20

Full results here (scroll to ‘classement UTDC Vale’).

I’d been given the seeded number 06 and hoped to live up to it in the overall race, but 10^th wasn’t far off at least. It was a huge learning experience. I think headlight choice, course familiarity and some proper training would knock big chunks of that time. However, I was happy, and with a shower, fresh clothes, and a free massage, even happier. (Thanks to Angelique for lending me the shorts!) Too amped to sleep, I settled near the finish for several hours to ‘bravo!’ fellow survivors. The last person came in at 23.5 hours, sneaking in under the cut-off.

The next day we snoozed, ate, and swapped war stories. I had my first, epic, ride in a helicopter, swooping over the Parc like a bird.Papayas and pamplemousses as big as my head got devoured. A generous Kiwi called Ian offered a ride to Ilot de Maitre in his yacht the next day for snorkeling and paddleboarding (amazing). Lovely lady Véronique rung to invite me to the spa, but I was off helming the yacht – you know how it is.

‘You’re the New Zealander who is smiling all day!’ said someone to me at the Monday prizegiving. With experiences and hospitality like this, it’s hard not to. I heartily recommend this race to NZ trail runners wanting something different – it’s well organized, closer than Australia, on a tropical island, and everyone is super friendly. I’m extremely grateful to David and his team for the invitation, and to Ruby for the referral (bon courage pour Mont Blanc). Thanks to organizers and volunteers, the runners for providing great company, and everyone who contributed to a seriously excellent holiday. And of course my main sponsor Barefoot Inc.

Gear:

Fivefingers (Spyridons)

Inov8 Roclite 236s

Socks x 4 (op shop)

Shorts, singlet

UltrAspire Surge pack

UltrAspire Omega pack

Nutrition – bit of a mixture:

Vfuels leftover from the hundy although more would have been nice (dear Vfuel Inc, please send BCR some more stock soon)

Clif bloks

Em’s Power Bars (gluten free)

Leftover Perpetuem Solids

Nuuns

Watermelon etc

This weekend the Ultra Trail World Tour kicks off with the Hong Kong 100km. Among those lining up are 3 top kiwi ultra runners-  Shannon-Leigh Litt, Scott Hawker and Vajin Armstong.

BCR caught up with all 3 pre HK100.

BCR- The HK100 is now part of the newly formed Ultra Trail World Tour- was that a deciding factory for choosing to race HK100- or was it a race you already had on the calendar?

SLL- This was definitely a factory and the reason I entered the HK100

SH- It was a race we already had planned as part of a 7 week holiday. Stoked to hear it was part of UTWT though

VA- I was extremely lucky in that UTWT actually invited me to this race. I was looking for a race in early January and there aren’t too many, plus the fact that I am already doing two other UTWT races (Tarawera and Western States) made HK100 a perfect fit. I enjoy racing a series of Ultra races and feel that for me I preform my best with a few ultra’s under my belt. Nothing calluses you against the demands of an ultra better than racing one.

BCR- The UTWT has brought out some top talent- do you know much about the competition and the HK100 course?

SLL- I understand the competetion is tough and have looked at the winning women last year and their times are definitely very good. I think this year there is Lizzy Hawker and Kami Semak competing and Claire Price who won last year. There is also Francesa Canepe from Italy will be a likely winner. I know the course is tough in terms of the elevation and a lot of stairs so I have definitely trained for this aspect.

SH- There’s a stack of international talent. I’ve been told to keep an eye on the Nepali guys too. I have checked out a bit of the course and all I can say is stairs!

VA- I have heard great things about this race from other athletes that had done the event before. It looks like it has an incredible balance between nature and solitude all the while being so close to such a huge concentration of people. The field looks to have a great international feel to it with top runners from Nepal, Hong Kong, China, US, Britain and of course the mighty Flying Kiwi Contingent.

BCR- How has the build up been- have you incorporated many steps and road running into your training?

SLL- The build up has been solid, have done solid amount of hill work and technical downhill.

SH- The build up has been great. I have just signed up with a coach recently who has had me doing plenty of stairs and hilly stuff. There is a heck of a lot of concrete on this course which is going to catch up with people later on in the race. Due to travel I have done a fair bit of road running in Singapore, KL & Beijing recently.

VA- For me it has just been a matter of keeping things ticking over since Kepler in December. I only found out in early January that I had been invited, so not much time for specific workouts, but I feel that I am at a good level of fitness and should be ready to race come Saturday.

BCR- What are your expectations for the race?

SLL- I am hoping for the best and going to give it everything I have.

SH- Only my 2nd international race other than a disappointing DNF at Tarawera in 2013 after catching some kind of bug on the flight over. Despite that, like all the other guys and girls, we’re all going for the win aren’t we?

VA- My expectations are simply to perform to my best and to enjoy it. The more I can stay in the moment and come from a place of love the better I tend to perform, so that will be my goal on Saturday.

BCR- You have all also entered in Tarawera (another UTWT event) –what else do you have n for the year and what is the main focuses?

SLL- Tararewa is a focus definitely and so is this race is to see where I am at. Will look at the Lavaredo Trail in Italy 27 June, as a possible 3rd race in the series.

SH- Yeah I have some making up to do at Tarawera for sure I plan on doing the TNF100 (UTWT) in May and then I’m not sure. See how the body feels after 3 100km races in 6 months. I’d have to say Tarawera is my ‘A’ race for the 1st half of 2014. Also going to be running with my wife for her 1st ever 100km in the 2nd half of the year which I’m psyched about too.

VA- Big races for me this year will be Tarawera, Transvulcania and Western States. All of these are going to be epic races with super deep fields, so I am really looking to up my game and see what is possible. As T S Eliot said “Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.”

Shannon- has won the ANZ 100km road champs, Naseby 100km and Ned Kelly 100km in 2013. Supported by Foundation Clinic Physio, Thir and Coached by Craig Kirkwood.

Scott- Recently placed 1st in the Truth or Consequences 50km, Kep 100km and 6 Inch Trail Marathon. Sponsored by Hoka One One Australia, RaceReady, Ryders Eyewear. “Also thanks to Eric LaHaie from Hoka One One Hong Kong for looking after us while we’re over here.”

Vajin- 3X Kepler winner, 2nd at 2013 Swiss Alpine Marathon. “Big Thanks to all my sponsors especially MACPAC, Ultimate Direction, Sri Chinmoy Marathon Team and The Lotus Heart.”

From HK100 website- Live tracking will be available during the event.  To track any participant’s progress on PCs, iPads and large tablet, use this link.  For smartphones, use this link.

Mt Kinabalu International Climbathon October 19, 2013 – Guillaume Causse

I’m Guillaume a 35 years-old  French trail runner  who lives in Singapore since last July.

After several years racing in MTB, I started trail running with my first event being the Mont-Blanc Marathon in Chamonix in July 2012. I have always lived in flat places like Paris and Singapore. Because of that it might seem odd that my strength is technical mountain downhill.

Last May, when I was preparing for my relocation to Singapore, I looked online for a big sky running event in the region and I found the Mt Kinabalu International Climbathon.

Two races are held here. There’s the Summit Race: 33km from the national park’s entrance at 1500m to the summit at 4100m, then down to Mesilau resort, and finishing at Kundasang town at 1200m. And, there’s the Adventure Race: 23km half way up the peak.

After moving across the world to Singapore and then flying all the way to Sabah, I knew I wouldn’t be happy with just going halfway up the mountain. So, I signed up for the Summit Race.

This event is only open to qualified runners, and in early September the race committee finally qualified me, based on my previous mountain race results.

Qualifying for one of the highest mountain races in the world is one thing, but how do you train in Singapore for such event?

My training schedule was very simple and packed my weekends. Friday early morning – 1hr running, including short intervals at East Coast Park; Saturday – cycling with my mates from ANZA cycling team to help reinforce my thighs (it still hurts when I think about it…); and finally Sunday – 1hr 30-45min running with longer intervals on the trails at Bukit Timah Nature Reserve.

On October 18, 2013, my wife, Carol, and I drove from Kota Kinabalu to Kinabalu Park to collect the race kit and attend the race briefing.

Carol was excited because a delegation of Kenyan and Ethiopian athletes was there to compete. “It’s the first time I’ve met Kenyans and Ethiopians,” she said.

However, I know how fast those guys can be on the road, so I wasn’t anywhere near as happy as Carol. After all, I was about to race them.

Kundasang is the nearest city, or village should I say, to Kinabalu Park. It is very small with very limited dinner options, either rice or rice! The closest Italian restaurant is 100km away. In other words, there was no pre-race pasta party!!!

The next day was race day and here’s how it went:

5:30 a.m. – After a good night’s sleep, I wake up and eat an energy bar and a few mini-bananas.

6 a.m. – We drive to the park’s entrance and the start line in time for a beautiful sunrise with Mt Kinabalu in the background. The lodge there is very quiet with people still sleeping. But then my rental car alarm goes off. I ignore the noise and after 10 minutes, everyone is awake. Finally, someone turns it off. I hope the hotel guests at least enjoyed the sunrise. Without me, they would have missed it!

Next, it’s time for a 15-minute warm-up, which is enough as the race is going to be long. Kenyans, Ethiopians, Japanese, Filipinos, Americans, Germans, Aussies, Kiwis, French, Canadians and, of course, Malaysians are all on the start line.

7 a.m. – At last, we’re off!

I run slowly at the beginning as I know we have 12km to go to the summit, including the first 4km on a road. This is the worst part for a trail runner like me.

As we hit the trail, I feel I’m in my place and I pass several runners who had started fast. The trail is really technical. It’s rocky with lot of stairs and slippery thanks to the high humidity. I close the gap with the best sky runner from Philippines and pass him.

The flora is changing as we go higher, from jungle at the bottom to short trees, such as conifers, and then the rocky summit. I finally reach the most anticipated stage of the race. Some call it the “summit plateau”, but I won’t. It’s so steep a rope has been set up to help us climb!

I catch and pass a Kenyan, an American and a local Malaysian before tackling the summit. It’s a real climb where you need to use your hands.

Guillaume chasing hard.

I reached the top at 4100m in 2hr 35min in 6th position and ahead of the 3-hour cut-off time. It is 4 deg C and very windy. It’s so different from the start, where it was hot and humid. I take a gel … sorry I take an energy gel… and begin the descent.

I jump from one rock to another and feel my legs slump with 22km still to go. The downhill is very technical and I have never run a trail like this before.

I’m usually more comfortable in the downhill than in the climb. When the local Malaysian passes me with so much at ease, I’m disgusted. He knows exactly where to put his feet on each rock and stair. It is only the beginning of the descent and my legs are so weak.

We are back down in the jungle and the Filipino passes me as well. He’s not that fast, but I can’t keep up the pace as my legs are slumping. So I decide to keep running at my own pace to at least stay in 8^th position.

The American guy catches up and I’m now 9^th. He is in front of me, but I know I can fill the gap as the trail starts to climb again and he seems to struggle.

We are in the final part of the descent of the trail together and I do everything possible to stay in contact. But then I crash. My knee is bleeding, but I get up quickly so I don’t lose him.

The trail is over and the worst part of the race is now a 10km descent on a road. The downhill gradient is high and my entire body hurts with each stride. I don’t have any more water and the sun really hits me. Still, I decide to accelerate and get rid of the American.

By now, the road seems endless. But soon I can see the finish line far in the distance and can hear the event’s loudspeaker as I run through small villages with the support of the locals.

With 2km to go, there’s a huge climb up to the end. I look behind and see no-one. My 8^th position is secure. Then I see the Filipino in front of me. He is exhausted, but I am too.

Suddenly, a superb woman yells out: “Allez, Loulou!”
It’s is Carol. What the f***? She’s accompanied by some new friends from Kenyan and she is calling me “Loulou” (a stupid nickname she gave me).

I’m so happy to see her. It gives me the energy to cross the finish line in 7th position behind the Filipino. The Ethiopians did not finish after they crashed in the downhill.

I can definitely say this is one of toughest sky running races in the world because of its elevation, the heat, and its technical trail. And, it’s made even harder when you live and train in Singapore.

Fortunately, my mates from ANZA cycling team challenge me every Saturday. This helped me have the legs to handle this race in absence of real mountain training.

Now I’m looking for other mountain races in AU and NZ in order to try to get qualify for the World Sky Running Championship in France next summer.

If you are coming to Singapore please contact me caugui@hotmail.com and I will be happy to setup a trail running session at Bukit Timah Nature Reserve

Guillaume

I flew in the day before to Melbourne and was lucky enough to be picked up by one of the race volunteers from the airport. The start line was about two and a half hours away in a small town of 17,000 people called Whangatta.  70 km of the course was on the rail trail and 30 km was on the road.  It was a small event with only 44 100km entrants.  My goal was to run the event as a training run and test out nutrition. I wasn’t happy with my run at Naseby as I had felt ill though still kept going. I wanted to focus on race day nutrition with this race and getting it right. After the Naseby race I focused a lot on speed work and sharpening my running a bit better which helped.  It was a great opportunity as well to try out my new hand held Ultimate Direction bottle and pack. The hand held bottle was really easy to use and re-fill and I would recommend it as an essential race kit. I liked the fact the pack was light and fit all my food in. The pockets for the gels add to easy access.

I stayed close by to the start and relaxed the night before the race. I thought briefly about race strategy and made sure I had all of my equipment and food ready. I thought what I would do for pain management and so carried an extra pair of compression socks for that purpose. Focusing on the process and basic needs is really important in a race rather than focusing on the result. That is something I learnt when I used to work as a lawyer and was at the forefront of many jury trials talking to the jury. Focusing on the theory of my case rather than the result assisted greatly with nerves and preparation. It is about the process and enjoyment. I told myself the night before the run that I had nothing to worry about, what will be will be and that all I had to do was do my best and remember why I was running this 100 km, i.e. (to test out running nutrition, hydration, etc) and not to go fast or win. The 100 km is my all time favorite distance.

I got up about an hour before the race. There wasn’t time for a large breakfast and so it was one banana and coffee. Five minutes before the race I had a GU coffee gel. Usual pre-race ritual though I would like to try and get up a few hours earlier next time.

I started the run without a head lamp, after I took a head lamp to the start though was told it was about to get light!  I should have had a head lamp as it didn’t get light as quick as I thought. Fortunately it allowed me to run a bit faster at the start though as it was an incentive to keep up with one of the leaders. I slowly eased into the race running at a consistent pace.

Shannon pounding the pavement at the Ned Kelly

The first 25 km went very well – I Felt great! 35 km I felt like crap and even stopped for a few second to drink, eat and get out my iPod. It was time for some One Republic and REM amongst a few other tunes. I remember watching “In the High Country” in Tauranga a couple of weeks before the race and applied what I learnt from that movie. I thought right I am going to push through when I feel like crap. I am not going to try and go faster when I feel good. So at 35 km I was really hurting though I told myself I could do it, keep going faster!

I did the first 50 km in 4 hours and felt good at that mark.  I remember passing a guy at about the 40 km mark and he said oh you must be doing the 4 person team. I think he was surprised when I said no I am doing the 100 km! My GPS stopped at 50 km (Dam!!) and so I then had no idea how fast I was going. I probably went out a bit too quick. I would like to eventually keep that pace up. How to do that! Maybe a stint in Kenya.  More 1500 meter time trials and 5 km runs!  More rest….Watch this space!

I made sure that I ate and drank throughout the whole race which is very important. I ate two servings of sports beans, 4 of my own made up chia shots in snap lock bags, and 3-4 Torq gels. I had 500 mls of water or Torq per hour around about. It was very hot. Fortunately the bikram hot yoga had helped me with this. I train in yoga and dance 4-5 times a week.

The first gel I had at the 50 km mark. It was orange and banana and refreshing. There were some supporters on mountain bikes who were able to help me out by passing me a gel.  I didn’t have any support throughout the run and so recruited some people to help me throughout the race. The aid stations were 15 km apart so it was necessary to carry drinks.

There was a kind man who I met who I thought was a marshal due to his bright clothing. He helped by filing up my drinks bottles throughout the latter stages of the race. I found out later he wasn’t a marshal he was in a team. I found it difficult to navigate my way all of the time around the course and so stopped to ask a few times. I also looked at the map the race organizers gave me which helped.

Shannon at the finish- in 1st!

At around the 90 km mark my right Achilles was hurting and so I decided to take it easy even though I felt good I didn’t want to risk not finishing. I have learnt through running a number of long races that you cannot make any judgement call until you cross the finish line.

I enjoyed meeting new people including Jess Baker who is an experienced athlete and runs for Hoka. At the finish line I chatted to Nikki Wynd and we are now in contact with each other exchanging training tips. I really enjoy learning from others and sharing my own knowledge. Now that I have recovered from being hit by a car and my injuries I am looking forward to what 2014 will bring.

Female results: Shannon-Leigh Litt (first) 8 hours, 46 mins and 42 seconds,  Jessica Baker (second) 9 hours 29 mins and 32 seconds and Larissa Tichon (third) 10 hours 11 mins and 17 seconds.

For further information about the race or my future events please go to  https://facebook.com/shannonleighathlete

After The North Face 100 in May this year I wasn’t exactly satisfied with how I did, so I knew I needed something big to target before my build up to the Kepler. When I was talking to Grant in the Blue Mountains he mentioned a 100km race down Melbourne way in September. So off to google I was to find out about this so called race and to work out how I could get there. When I had a look over the start list there were two well-known Aussie trail runners, Beth Cardelli and Shona Stevenson, who I knew would be very tough competition. I wasn’t expecting to make the podium, as this was my second 100km race, but I wanted to make the top five women.

Whitney running a beach section early on in the Surf Coast Century, Australia.

I arrived at the start line with my partner Aaron at 5:10am. Crazy Aussies start their races at 5:30am! Aaron thought I was a complete nutter as I got up at 3:20am to eat breakfast.  But making sure that I started the race well fueled was non-negotiable. The race started on the beach where we ran about 2kms before climbing up a undulating gravel path then dropping back down onto the beach for a large 15km stretch on the sand. I was so pleased to feel the hard packed sand under my shoes, which was the kindest sand I had ever run on. Beth, Shona and I ran side by side during this first section and we were ticking along at a pretty reasonable pace considering we had 90km to go! They didn’t speak to me at all during the first hour, and I think they were a bit surprised that I was going out as fast as I was. My legs felt great and my breathing was calm so I continued to enjoy the speed while I had it in me. Shona and I pulled away from Beth and passed through the first CP at 10km together. We exchanged a few words and I then made the most of a slight downhill section and pulled away from her. I couldn’t believe that I was now ahead of both Beth and Shona. It was early days I thought to myself and before I knew it they had both caught back up on the long stretch of beach that lead to CP2 at 21km. As I ran into the checkpoint I was running in 3^rd but not far behind them as Aaron made sure to tell me. He cut the corner off a glad bag of vanilla creamed rice and I squirted it into my mouth like one of those icing bags used to decorate cakes with. This method I learnt from my famous cousins Glen and Braden Currie who are elite multi-sporters. Shortly after I left CP2, I passed Beth as she took a toilet stop. What I didn’t expect was that I wouldn’t see Beth again. As the track undulated along the cliff tops I quickly caught up with Shona. My legs felt good so I pushed on to take the lead. From then on I pretty much ran by myself until about 55km. I started to feel a sharp pain in the side of my knee which I was hoping would not happen during this race. It’s an injury called ITB friction syndrome that plays up for me anywhere between 50-80km on long runs. As the pain got worse I started to get my limp on which slowed my pace down.

I took an ibuprofen tablet which I had stashed in my pack for this exact situation. I thought it was only a matter of time before the other ladies caught me. A couple of men caught up on me and let me know that there was a girl in red not far behind. As I looked over my shoulder Lucy Bartholomew was slowly approaching. At the time I had no idea who this girl was and where she had come from, but what I did notice was that she looked determined. Leading into CP6 at 77km there was a technical rocky downhill section which brightened my spirits and at the same time the ibuprofen started to do its job on my knee. I felt like I was running again! I made the most of the downhill and pushed the pace. When I got to CP6 I had made a 6 minute lead on Lucy.

1st place and a new course record of 9hr33.

For the last 20km of the race, I had the win set in my mind and focused on keeping a steady pace all the way to the end. I was dreading the final beach section as I had heard that the sand can be rather soft, but to my delight it was actually pretty hard packed. As I approached the finish line I could see Aaron in the distance on the beach. As I got closer he started to make a move and attempted to run up the beach to catch a photo/video of me coming across the line. Aaron doesn’t run much, so it was pretty funny as I started to gain on him and I was worried he wasn’t going to make it to the finish before me. Luckily he did and he got a very cool video as he was shaking with excitement.

Winning the Surf Coast Century was my biggest trail running achievement so far. I am often amongst the top ladies, but this was my first big win in the ultra-running scene. Setting a new course record put the icing on the cake for me and made the trip over to Aussie very worthwhile. I just might have to go back next year now.

FULL RESULTS HERE

A Brief History Of The 52 Finest Mountain Races That I Have Raced

In Approximate Order With A Brief Thought On Each;

Or

Have Your Adventures, Make Your Mistakes, And Choose Your Friends Poorly –

All These Things Make For Great Stories.

      1. Shotover Moonlight Mountain Marathon, Queenstown, New Zealand. A race of steep mountains, technical ridge running, ankle-busting contours, and deep river crossings. You’re permitted to run these unmanicured sheep-trods and gold-rush era water-races on one day of the year only – the day of this perfect race. Former Welshman Adrian Bailey is the brains behind the event. His philosophy, Freedom is something that dies unless it is used.

2. Schlickeralmlauf, Telfes, Austria. THE classic uphill-only race. I won here in 2001 and 2002 – a golden age for this sort of event, the kind of peak that never comes again. I’ve spent many months camping and training high up in the mountains of the Stubai, sometimes alone, sometimes with a wildly argumentative Australian. This was where I banished the ghosts of too many schools and bailed on the tyranny of the rat-race. This was where I learnt to drink wine and live life well and laugh at the odds and RUN up mountains. I still have stuff – food, trainers, running kit – stashed under an old hut up there.

3. Graubuenden Marathon, Lenzerheide, Switzerland. My first marathon. It climbs and climbs and climbs, and then when you think the climbing’s over you turn a corner and it climbs a whole lot more. Braved the storm here six times with a couple of wins and a couple of epic fails. Not a race to go looking for; a race that will find you when it thinks you’re ready.

4. The Annapurna Trail, Dolpo, Nepal. I didn’t run in this race. It’s a race for the wealthy. The French organisers charge a small fortune for the honour of running the trail over 10 days. I ran the 300km(ish) trail early in 2003 with my buddy Pete in 36(ish) hours over 4(ish) days. This was before anyone came up with the bright idea of commercialising the thing, so I’m not sure if that counts as a race. But running in the Himalayas was, for me, the first time I took things to another (and dare I say the next) level. If you want out of the labels and the branding, if you don’t want your life summed up by a single word; if you want something else, unknowable and undefined, some place to be that’s not on the map, something chaotic, try starting somewhere in the Himalaya.

5. Drei Zinnen Alpine Run, Sesto, Italy. After messing around with various distances and routes over the years the organisers have finally settled on the original 17km of steep rocky Dolomite madness. It’s the closest I’ve ever been to Jono Wyatt at his best, passing him on the steep, awkward descent a kilometer from the finiish, only to be re-passed with jelly-legs on the final climb. It’s also the most cake and grappa I’ve ever consumed post-race. I won here in 2006 after many years of not winning.

6. Val Gardena Extreme Marathon, Ortisei, Italy. Not a marathon. It was originally an Half, but now it’s 12km and goes up another mountain – to the characterless Seceda rather than the iconic Forcella Sassolungo. But it’s still the Dolomites and I love the Dolomites, I want to have babies with the Dolomites. The Alps are a merciless and indifferent range of mountains, inhabited by trolls and dragons; the Dolomites are peaceful by comparison, home to pixies and leprechauns.

Grossglockner 2002

7. Grossglockner Berglauf, Heiligenblut, Austria. A colourful race over very mixed terrain that finishes at a multi-story car-park. In 2001 I was riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave, I had momentum, and the 71 minutes I clocked that year was the best race I’ve ever ran, so far. 2006 was another memorable year in Heiligenblut. Accompanied by messers Wyatt and Brown, I made a record-breakingly slow and clumsy ascent of The Grossglockner (3798m).

      8. The Kepler, Te Anau, New Zealand. My first ultra. Most ultra runners will tell you 60km does not qualify as an ultra. Most marathon runners will tell you it does. It seemed like a bloody long way to me at the time, particularly after traversing a pretty significant lump of rock in the first 30km. In 2005 I ran it in 5 hours, finishing a subdued and knackered second to the great Phil Costley.

9. Thyon-Dixence, Val de Herens, Switzerland. From the depressing concrete structure of Thyon 2000 to the depressing concrete structure of the Dixence Dam, a very un-Swisslike ten mile cross-country-style mountain race – fast, hilly, some really crappy single-track, all at over 2000m. It’s a real leveller. Improbably, my best run came in 2008 at the age of 38 – 2^nd in 72 minutes.

10. Karwendel Berglauf, Mittenwald, Germany. There is huge body of evidence to support the notion that trying to run fast up very steep mountains is a sign of insanity. Exhibit one: The Karwendelauf. 10Km and 1400m up the virtually unrunnable scree of the Damkar, Germany’s longest ski run. How can all that rock defy gravity; why hasn’t already rolled to the bottom of the mountain? Jono Wyatt broke an hour here. What else can you say to big-up a race?

11. The Goat, Tongariro National Park, New Zealand. At some point, your memories, your stories, your adventures, will be the only things you’ll have left. I could write a book about this one, or at least the chapter of a book. The most technical mountain race I’ve ever attempted and completed. The first recce of this 21km course took me 5 hours. I eventually ran it in just under 2 hours. I am not sure how, it seems improbable to me now. New Zealand seems to specialise in this sort of race.

12. Llanbedr to Blaenafon, Black Mountains/Brecon Beacons, Wales. A long, mountainous, runnable point-to-point fell race, requiring some skilled navigation through Abergavenny town centre and finishing with an grovelling ascent of the formidable and ridiculous Blorenge. I won it in 2011 in perfect weather conditions; it would have been a quite different story in the rain and cloud.

13. Challenge Stellina, Susa, Italy. I was twice second to Mr Wyatt here. A historic race, with an actual Catholic mass, and unlimited amounts of wine and grappa and mouldy cheese at the finish. Last man off the mountain is the real winner.

14. Snowdon Marathon, Llanberis, Wales. My first road marathon in 2003. I won in 2:36. The pass of Waun Fawr at mile 21 is what makes this almost a true mountain race. I also won in 2008 during what meteorologists called a hurricane but in North Wales was described as typical October Bank Holiday weather.

15. Aletsch Half-Marathon, Bettmeralp, Switzerland. What is there to say about the Aletsch Glacier; it’s like a vision, an hallucination, a glacier seen through eyes dilated by acid. I was stunned the first time I saw it, like the first time I saw the Matterhorn; all of a sudden it was there looming up in front of me. But despite the otherworldliness of the place, this race starts high and goes much higher and hurting is an unavoidable reality whether you’re in the fast lane or on vacation.

16. Cross du Mont Blanc, Chamonix, France. In times gone past this was one of the biggest money races on the calendar. I banked 2000 Euro (minus taxes!!!) for 2^nd place in 2002. But the forked tongue of fate set this event on a different path and The Cross has been relegated to mere fun run status in favour of the Marathon du Mont Blanc. The trail to Plan Praz via Flegere remains one of the most stunning trails in mountain running though and both races traverse it.

17. Northburn, Cromwell, New Zealand. I had entered the 100 miler (7000m deniv) and been bigging myself up for months, then developed a fortuitous last-minute niggle and ended up running the 50km fun run (a mere 2600m deniv). What a fucking coward! A beautiful, evil, windy, parched, cold, barren, mountainous, merciless, confusing place. No place for a race of any kind, let alone an ultra.

18. The Jungfrau Marathon, Interlaken, Switzerland. During September there is something fresh and crisp about those first few early morning hours in Interlaken; a happy anticipation that something is about to happen. This is my sort of course, if ever there was such a thing. 16 miles of flat. 10 miles of hill. In 2008 I was flabbergasted to shuffle past all but one of the favourites on the hill. Since then it’s all been downhill. I no longer get an invite even.

Glacier 3000 Run 2008

19. Glacier 3000 Run, Gstaad, Switzerland. Not the Aletsch Glacier, not much to look at, but you do get to run across it. Also my sort of course. 10 miles of flat. 6 miles of hill. I won the first four editions and still hold the course record despite the best efforts of young Joseph Gray this year.

      20. Sierre-Zinal, Val de Annivers, Switzerland. If mountain running has such a thing as a savage heart, then this race is it. And if there is such a thing as a jinx race, then this is mine. I have a heap of DNF’s and truly woeful performances just under the 3 hour mark. In 2006, for example, I fell on the CLIMB and knocked myself senseless. I always have a sense of impending doom just before the start in that lay-by down in Sierre, but it is my restless idealism and vagrant optimism that keeps me returning. And I love training on this course, it’s such an unique trail. The climb was always my favourite bit, and in 2002 I was 3^rd when the course was shortened, oh joy, to just the climb.

21. Matterhornlauf, Zermatt, Switzerland. The first mountain race I won in the Alps. It was 1998 and I had a great battle with Scotsman Bobby Quinn. Sadly axed by it’s sponsers in favour of a more fashionable event after 30 extraordinary years (the race that is, not Bobby). Just goes to show: nothing is static, everything is evolving, everything is falling apart.

22. Matterhorn Ultraks, Zermatt, Switzerland. History is filled with brilliant people who wanted to fix things and just made them worse. I so much wanted to hate this race, the new-improved Matterhornlauf, but the 30km course I ran this year was epic. I finished feeling thoroughly used-up and totally worn-out and wishing I’d had the balls to get out of bed two hours earlier to start the 46km. And wishing that I’d done more of these kind of races fifteen years ago. When you’re young you can survive the brutal overindulence of running steep mountains regularly.

23. Barr Trail Race, Manitou Springs, USA. We runners, we run not because we want to live longer, but because we want to live life to the fullest, not in a fog. There’s no greater test of the runners individual limits than Pikes Peak. It’s the essence of what mountain running is about. Barr Trail goes halfway up and halfway down Pikes, a soft introduction but a pretty wonderful thing all the same. It was my last day in the States and I bashed out the full-monty the day after Barr Trail in order to win a rather childish bet with race organiser and bona-fide legend Matt Carpenter.

24. Les KM de Chando, Chandolin, Switzerland. Who knows if there is in fact a heaven or a hell, all we know for sure is that hell will be a viciously steep never-ending series of switch-backs, slippery with mud and trecherous with loose rocks. Celebrating only it’s second year, this nutty double vertical race is set to become a classic. The first time I ever felt the need to wield the wizard sticks in anger.

25. Zugspitze Extreme Berglauf, Ehrwald, Germany. Infamous race to the summit of Deutschland’s highest peak. Not especially extreme though. I was the somewhat confused and surprised winner in 2005 after getting lost in the mad fog that so often shrouds the calamitous moraine below the summit. Apparently the course marshalls had temporarily abandoned their posts to see what could be found at the bottom of a big bottle of schnapps. Somehow I remain the course record holder.

26. Monte Faudo, Iberia, Italy. Shit hot road race with a big mountain finish. I was third here in 2008, passing a boat-load of Morrocans in the final 5km. Being shot out of a cannon will always be better than being squeezed out of a tube; in other words, slow is good, but fast is better. 

27. Hochfelln Berglauf, Bergen, Germany. Iconic short(ish), steep(ish) uphill only couse. The perfect end of season race. It’s appeal is further heightened by the proximity of Bergen to Munich and the Octoberfest. Race boss Bibi Angfang is usually the most hospitable, generous,and likeable German in mountain running, unless you try to fuck with his race.

28. The Inferno, Lauterbrunnen, Switzerland. At 3000m, the Schilthorn provides one of the highest finishes to any mountain race in the Alps. More interestingly: (a) they filmed an early James Bond film up there; and (b) the restaurant revolves thanks to some massive clockwork gizmo operated by trolls.

29. Dolomitten Marathon, Brixen, Italy. Climbs for 2500m without you really noticing it, so taken aback are you by the ever-expanding views of the Dolomites. This race is like a fairytale, it really is, just so long as you like your fairytales to include a little bit of suffering. I competed here once, in 2012 and, Bahrain aside, it was the hottest weather conditions I ever raced in. Thirty five freaking degrees at the start. Then again, the beer at the finish was the finest, coldest beer I’ve ever drank, which kind of balanced things out.

ZERMATT MARATHON, 2013.

30. Zermatt Marathon, Zermatt, Switzerland. More and more it has felt like I am doing a bad impersonation of myself. So to finish fifth here this year in my fastest ever time was a reaffirmation that I am still able to raise the bar if need be, that I am not yet a piece of drftwood washed up on the shore The gods have been good to me, they’ve kept me alive, feeling the goodness of good people, feeling the miracle of fitness run up my arm and down my spine like a crazy mouse. I just hope this wasn’t a cameo appearance.

31. Troi dei Cimbri, Fregona, Italy. A tough little skyrace in an unspolit corner of the Dolomites. In 2005 I finished a distant second to the legendary Lucio Fregona. Such was his love of competition, Lucio tried to force-feed me bananas and lollies at the penultimate aid station when he saw that I was bonking. I think this proves the old addage that we race not purely to beat each other, but also to be with each other. Interesting fact: the Cimbri are forest-dwelling pixies that live entirely on pizza quattro formaggi con funghi.

32. Tour des Alpages, Anzere, Switzerland. I’ve lived and worked and trained in this charmless Swiss ski resort for longer than I care to remember. But Anzere is a great place to steer clear of all the bullshit in this weird and cruel world. There are a few dragons left in these mountains, if you venture far enough and high enough. And it’s cool that Anzere has it’s own race. It’s 10 miles of mainly cowfields, up and down.

33. Mount Snowdon, Llanberis, Wales. Even a sub-40 minute ascent was insufficient to secure a win in 1998. I was passed by eleven guys on my way down the mountain, but ran a respectable 68 something minutes. My first real experience with delayed onset muscle soreness put me off up and down racing for many years.

34. Course de Lac du Bouget, Aix-le-Bains, France. A superb race for those requiring a little end of season luxary and sunshine. Unfortunately it’s 60km and bloody hilly and includes a three-person relay which serves only to lead astray and befuddle the hapless solo runner. Twas my first win in an ultra-distance race.

35. Motatapu, Wanaka, New Zealand. Before she lost the Motatapu sheep station in a rather costly divorce settlement, American songstress Shania Twain had the whole place reseeded as the native grass wasn’t green enough. Or so the story goes. Undulating rather than mountainous, it’s a mountain marathon for those who prefer to gaze up at the mountains in wonder rather than run over them. I enjoyed it in 2006 after the nightmare that was The Kepler.

36. The Coast-To-Coast, Arthur’s Pass, New Zealand. Actually a multi-sport race, but for a king’s ransom you can now run the mountain leg as part of a relay team or as an individual. The course follows the aptly-named Deception River and is largely an unmarked and unrunnable mine-field of house-sized boulders, whirlpools and rapids, and impenetrable bush. I was told after the race, in which I got hopelessly lost, that a few reccies with someone who knows the way are essential to avoid getting hopelessly lost. New Zealand seems to specialise in this sort of race.

37. Haldi Berglauf, Schattdorf, Switzerland. It may have been Mark Twain who pointed out that it’s far easier to go down a hill than up, but the view is much better from the top. The Haldi is just an awesome, relaxing little uphill-only race, with an epic view from the top. The type of race in which Switzerland seems to abound.

38. St James Stampede Ultra, Hanmer Springs, New Zealand. The more rivers you cross, the more you know about rivers. It was definitely Mark Twain who said that. I am not a swimmer and getting completely lost on the hottest day of the year with co-leaders Vajin Armstrong and Martin Lukes and having to cross the raging Waimau River somewhat spoilt my day out in one of the most unspoilt wilderness regions of New Zealand. For me, a few arrows here and a couple of flags there would have improved the race immeasurably. It turned out that some environmental terrorists, worried about the damage caused by bunting, had removed the course markers.

39. Ovronnaz – Cabane Rambert, Ovronnaz, Switzerland. 8Km and 1600m up into the first snows of the season. I have ran here just the once, in 1998, and came in second to Thierry Icart, the only Frenchman I know to have worn Walshes. I often wonder if they still hand out as much wine as you can drink at each of the aid stations on the walk back down.

40. Cross de Velan, Bourg St. Pierre, Switzerland. A cracking little race up to the surprisingly well-stocked and reasonably-priced bar at the Cabane du Velan, followed by another unsteady hike back down. In order to keep up with the times, the organisers have just added a pretty brutal looking 45km skyrun which I am itching to have a crack at. So many great races though, and so few weekends in July.

41. Neirivue – Le Moleson, Fribourg, Switzerland. With the rise of ultra-sky-trail-running, or whatever the hell they’re rebranding mountain running as currently, great uphill-only races like this may one day soon be unfashionable and rare, like those yellow Lance Armstrong wrist-bands. I thought I had this one in the bag in 2006, until I walked into the restaurant the night before the race. Jono Wyatt, Marco de Gasperi and Helmut Schiessel had not shown up merely to sample the local fondue.

42. Morat – Fribourg, Fribourg, Switzerland. Not a true mountain race. Well, to be honest, not even close to being a mountain race. It’s a road race with hills. Jono Wyatt holds the record. But along with the fearsome Marvejols-Mende (which I have never ran), this is a must-do for any self-respecting mountain runner. This is the fast-lane folks, and some of us like it here occasionally. Let the chips fall where they may.

43. The Terminator, Vale of Pewsey, England. Not really a mountain race either. But it’s about as mountainous as you can get in my old stomping ground of The Cotswolds. Some of the climbs require fixed ropes and crampons though. There’s also a pleasant 100m long section of ditch filled with rotting vegetables and slurry just before the finish. They love this kind of thing in the West Country.

44. Soltn Berghalbmarathon, San Genesio, Italy. The Dolomites, a great place to be at any time of the year. The race comprises a big fast loop with heaps of ups and downs and a very generous prize-giving. There’s also a bike hill-climb the day before, so bring your bike and blow your chances for the half-marathon.

ULLSWATER TRAIL, 2007.

45. Ullswater Trail, Glenridding, England. A great way to arrive at a race, by steam-boat. My 2007 course record remains untouched, thanks largely to the weather. Race Director Graham Patten is an evil trail-running genius. He organised the first proper fell race I ever did, The Beacon Batch, in 1996. And he’s organising the next race I will do, the Ultimate Trails 100km, in less than two weeks time.

46. Mount Washington, New Hampshire, USA. I have a long, vicious memory. There are races I wish I could forget. John Stifler, the race direcor, claims there’s only one hill. I disagree. There are some truly wonderful trails up this mountain, but this isn’t one of them. It’s a road race and it climbs 4700 feet in 7 miles. Another great American once claimed that there are clubs you can’t belong to, neighbourhoods you can’t live in, schools you can’t get in to, but the roads are always open. Wrong again. The Mount Washington Auto Road is only open to pedestrians one day per year. That said, it’s still a great race. I saw my favourite ever banner at the finish of this race: “Help Save The Environment: Get Drunk & Walk To Work”.

47. Kitzbuelerhorn Berglauf, Kitzbuhuel, Austria. Identical to Mount Washington in almost every respect, only it’s in Austria and goes up the road to the Kitzbuelerhorn. Then again, any race that gets your blood racing is probably worth doing.

48. Cressier-Chaumont, Neuchatel, Switzerland. A gentle late-spring race to wash away the horrors of January and February. And the perfect early-season outing for those who aren’t quite ready for steep climbs, technical trails, and high altitudes. It’s an uncelebrated classic, it’s been going 40 years, and past winners include Jeff Norman, Les Presland, Craig Roberts, and me.

49. Skaala Opp, Nordfjord, Norway. Another agonising, unrelenting uphill grind. As if this list needed another. Skaala would figure higher up in the rankings were it not for the huge rucksack you have to carry all the way to the top; at least it seemed huge to someone as slight as myself. But it’s a fact that skinny guys fight until they’re burger, and I scraped 3^rd in 2005. And what’s more, my suffering dissolved in an instant when the race mascot, Christian Prestgaard, produced a bottle of vintage Bollinger from his rucksack at the finish line. Genius. Why hadn’t I thought of that? I’d filled mine with warm clothing and nutritious snacks.

50. Swiss Alpine Marathon, Davos, Switzerland. Mick Jagger famously claimed that he’d rather be dead than singing ‘Satisfaction’ at the age of 45. When I was young, I was the same, I couldn’t imagine myself doing this kind of race  in later life. The SAM was my first 50 miler. The first half of this race is a disappointment, not a mountain in sight, but the second half really makes up for it. I know it’s a cliché, but I’ve finally learnt that racing these distances is not about beating other runners, it’s a competition against that little voice in my head that wants me to bail. I reached halfway in two and a half hours still in sight of the leaders, and then at 45km I started to feel a bit lightheaded; then there came a weariness beyond fatigue and the dark thumb of fate squashed me into the dust. Somehow I recovered and can’t wait to do it all over again.

HORSES.

  51. Kaiser Marathon, Soll, Austria. It’s motivation that gets me going at the start of the season, and habit that keeps me going at the end. This race takes place in October, at which point my good performances are usually a distant memory. The last time I ran here they stopped the race HALF-WAY THROUGH due to a couple of inches of snow. Without the bad races though, it’s impossible to appreciate the good ones. I’ve always thought it’s bad luck that makes you a good runner; if my luck had ALWAYS been good I’d have never have amounted to anything.

     52. Man vs Horse, Llandywyrtdydrfttvvwyrdd Wells, Wales. I also have something of a love-hate relationship with this race. Won twice, heckled off the podium once. A scenic, tough, and unrelenting course, spoilt only by the prescence of so many sadistic, loutish twats on horses. The true story of this race I’ll only tell to a complete stranger, someplace private in the padded-cell of midnight.

Pretty rare that we cover a race out side of New Zealand (we like to give our attention to NZ events and athletes!), especially when that race is 7+ months away! But today the 75km Buffalo Stampede in Australia is official lunched and more significantly for New Zealand- “The race itself forms the launch of Skyrunning in Australia and New Zealand“.

Kiwi’s already locked into for the 75km Buffalo Stampede are myself (Grant Guise) and fellow Salomon Running team mate, Anna Frost, who is of course no stranger to Sky Running in Europe having clocked up many wins. Matt Bixley join’s Anna and myself as the kiwi representatives on the Sky Running Australia New Zealand Management Committee.

Below is the official Buffalo Stampede press release-

For the very first time, Australia has a new trail running event which is part of the internationally prestigious Skyrunning brand that attracts top athletes to the top of the world, where earth and sky meet.
Officially launched today, the Buffalo Stampede in the Victorian alpine country is expected to attract a bumper field of talented local and overseas runners as it forms the foundation stone of a planned Australia‐New Zealand Skyrunning series.
To be staged on April 5 and 6 next year, it is hoped that ultimately the Buffalo Stampede will join the elite list of Skyrunning World Series events like the Mont Blanc Marathon in France, Speedgoat 50 in the USA and the Mount Elbrus Vertical Kilometre in Russia.
Skyrunning as a recognised discipline traces its roots back to Italian mountaineer Marino Giacometti and fellow enthusiasts who started pioneering races and records on famous European peaks like Mont Blanc in the 1990s.
Today the sport is managed by the International Skyrunning Federation and features superstars like Spanish alpine master Kilian Jornet.
Marcus Warner, the president of Skyrunning Australia and New Zealand, says the Buffalo Stampede embodies what Skyrunning is all about: “The purest form of mountain running … getting to the top of a mountain and back down again as quickly as possible. It’s the athlete versus the mountain. It’s not for the faint‐hearted. It’s definitely a significant challenge and the athlete needs to know what they are doing.’’
The Buffalo Stampede, Warner says, will finally “put Australia on the map’’ of Skyrunning because it will finally convince overseas runners that Australia possesses the terrain to stage a serious mountain running challenge. “Elevation is really what drives the difficulty of it. [The organisers] have really sought out the most extreme mountain in Australia that really embodies Skyrunning because of how steep it is. Nearly 5000m [of elevation gain] over 75km is up there with some of the best races in the world. [Elite overseas runners] are going to go away pretty sore and pretty beat up from this race.’’
The Buffalo Stampede has been organised by Sean Greenhill from the respected outdoor adventure company Mountain Sports. A passionate trail runner himself, Greenhill already stages popular trail running events like the Glow Worm Tunnel Marathon and the Sydney Trailrunning Series.

He chose Mount Buffalo National Park in Victoria as the venue for the Buffalo Stampede Ultra SkyMarathon (75km) and Buffalo Stampede SkyMarathon (41.4km) because it is one of the few areas in Australia where he could satisfy the exacting Skyrunning rules about vertical gain.
No other runs in Australia over similar distances will have as much climbing as the Buffalo Stampede Ultra SkyMarathon (4545m) and the Buffalo Stampede SkyMarathon (2924m).
“I can’t think of a marathon in Australia that comes within 500m of gain of the Mount Buffalo SkyMarathon,’’ Greenhill says. “They are, in terms of elevation gain over distance, the most difficult events of their kind in Australia.’’ And because it is the eroded magma chamber of an extinct volcano, Mount Buffalo boasts a spectacular granite terrain like no other peak in the Snowy Mountains. Greenhill also chose Mount Buffalo because it allows him to start the Buffalo Stampede events in the beautiful town of Bright, which he loves for its alpine scenery, fine food, local produce, boutique beer and outdoor sports culture.
Clayton Neil, the manager for economic development with Bright’s Alpine Shire Council, said: “We see the Buffalo Stampede as a really strong addition to our events calendar that really aligns with where we are heading. It embraces being active in nature and living life outside. Bright has always been a popular place for people who love the outdoors and this event takes that to another level.’’
Although the Buffalo Stampede races will be among Australia’s toughest, they are open to entry from anyone, with no qualifying needed. Up for grabs in the Buffalo Stampede are tickets to the 2014 Skyrunning World Championships to be held next June in the famed French alpine resort of Chamonix, at the foot of Mont Blanc
A three‐day Buffalo Stampede training camp based in Bright will be hosted by top Australian trail runners Brendan Davies and Hanny Allston from January 17 to 19.
Davies raced in the Skyrunning Mont Blanc Marathon this year and will be competing in the Buffalo Stampede Ultra SkyMarathon in April in the hope of winning a ticket back to the slopes of Mont Blanc for the Skyrunning World Championships. Davies, a Mountain Sports ambassador for the Buffalo Stampede, said: “The Skyrunning label brings with it a lot of credibility. It puts [Australia] on the world map as a destination for the world’s elite trail runners. For Australian runners, it gives us the capacity to dip our feet into the Skyrunning series without having to travel overseas. It’s just a plus for the sport. I see it as a real positive for everyone. I’m going to be going all out for that race.’’
Go to www.buffalostampede.com.au for more details about the Buffalo Stampede.
Sean Greenhill is available for interviews on 0409 047 714 or via sean@mountainsports.com.au

More info at-

Vajin, in Chamonix on the eve before UTMB- he is pumped and ready t go!

UTMB – La Grande Finale…
A dear friend of mine, Sri Chinmoy, once said “Greatness is a matter of a moment. Goodness is the work of a lifetime”. In my time away I have seen again and again the truth of this statement. Our society today is quick to praise the great, the rich and the powerful but does little to celebrate the good, the generous, the self giving and the kind. Being here in Chamonix, seeing the thousands of runners  here ready to give their all, reminds me that although running is an individual sport, preparing for an ultra is a true team effort. Each person is here prepared to race, thanks not only to their own efforts in training, but also due to the sacrifices and love of their friends, family and loved ones.

For me the opportunity I have had to race here in Europe was the result of the generosity and kindness of my friends, family and sponsors. I would like to take this opportunity to offer my gratitude to all those that have helped to make this dream of mine a reality. One person in particular has gone above and beyond the call of duty and has really been the heart and soul of this tour. Prasasta, my wife deserves as much praise and credit for any results that I have achieved. It has only been thanks to her love, generosity and oneness that I have been able to race as well as I have.

Tomorrow I will be setting out on an epic trip around the big hill and I frankly couldn’t be more excited. UTMB has so much hype around it, I can’t wait to actually get underway and out onto the trails. Today was the race pack pick up and I was drug tested for the first time. I must have really made it to the big time now. Tomorrow we will be kicking it off at 4.30pm which is a couple of hours earlier than the usual start time. This is great as it gives us a good four hours of daylight to get into the race before we start the epic night. The weather forecast is good with highs in the low 20′s during the day dropping to 7 or 8 degrees overnight. So we should be all good to run the full course for the first time since 2009.

I hope to race smart and I realise that the race won’t really start until the sun rises on Saturday. I aim to go out at a solid but relaxed pace and aim to take really good care of myself throughout the night so I am ready to run hard when it matters. I am confident in my climbing and will be bringing my wizard sticks to help me save something for the final three climbs. I know there are a whole lot of big names here but I am focusing on just running to my potential. I also know if I run strong the whole way and put in a performance that I can be proud of, I am sure I will be in the mix. This race always goes out way to fast so expect me to start back in the field and move my way through.

Follow the race via BCR, UTMB website and all other reputable trail sources.
My bib number is 2211
Ciao,
Vajin
Thank you to my sponsors Ultimate Direction, Macpac, Saucony, Buff, Injinji, Zensah.

UTMB Live Tracking, including live TV stream- HERE

iRunFar live UTMB updates HERE

BCR hopes to share updates on Vajin’s progress from emails his wife, Prasasta, sends us. We will updates on our Twitter and/or Facebook pages.

I loved the Speedgoat 50km. But Why did I love Speedgoat? Christ only knows. It was miserable as f^$#…………

It was the first time I’ve ever felt so low in a race. It was the first time I’ve ever doubted my ability to physically finish a race, let alone worrying about time or placings. The altitude completely ruined me; it chewed me up with its mountainous teeth and spat me into a tumble drier. After that it put me in a sack on the back of a great white American SUV and drove me halfway up the side of a mountain, threw me off the tray and said “run.” I never pretended to myself that it would be easy, but I had no idea I would ever find it that hard.

I arrived a week before the race in an attempt to get used to the heat. I was staying at the race start so managed a couple of runs out on the course and bagged a couple of sweet peaks on some relaxed runs with the locals (here I mean actual people not the marmots who were my main company for the week). I noticed two things in this week. The first was that I was panting just walking up the stairs to my room. The second was slightly more worrying. When I cut myself my blood came out as a slow, thick glue. As a vegetarian female long distance runner I do have problems with iron and normally when I cut myself I bleed like a tap; thin and light red. I knew I wasn’t really taking this whole altitude situation as well as I’d hoped.

Ruby on Hidden Peak, 8.4 miles into the Speedgoat 50km. Photo Bryon Powell/irunfar.com

To be honest, in spite of all this I was actually feeling quietly confident at the startline. I guess because I’ve lined up to a lot of races with doubts about my training etc. and done a bit of sandbagging but always pulled through. As soon as we were off up the mountain I had to re-asses. My breathing was ridiculously labored, it was also wet and ragged yet I couldn’t cough and run at the same time as it was such a struggle just to get in enough air to keep moving. I made the first summit as fourth female, with a lot more hands on knees then I felt I should have been doing on gradients I would have been running here in NZ. I was breathing at far to0 high of an effort to sustain for a 50km race, it felt more like a 5km effort, just trying to force my chest to open wider and wider.

From there to the halfway point was primarily downhill. I turned up some fast tunes and hit the descents the way I love to, working my way up to second and reeling in Jodee, who was running in first. During the fun rocky descents I was able to ignore my breathing and lose myself in the pleasure of movement. I deluded myself that my day was turning around… maybe I’d get a second wind.

Then we turned around.

I instantly realised nothing had changed. If anything, things were worse. If I tried to run anything that climbed even slightly I began to feel dizzy. As I pushed, dizzy became queasy. I quickly resorted to the hands on knees slog that became my staple for the rest of the day. Needles to say people started to pass me as easily as if I was standing still. When Julie jogged passed me I didn’t even try to hang on. Instead of feeling discouraged though, I was starting to really enjoy the challenge. I am used to running well within my comfort zone. When I finish I often have the guilty feeling that I could have gone harder. At least I knew that wouldn’t be the case.

The next big climb, straight up the side of mount Baldy was a joke. I actually almost ground to a halt. I don’t think I’ve ever moved that slowly in my life. I’d lift one leg up onto a dusty slippery rock, stumble a bit, drag my body up with it, pause to absorb a wave of dizziness then repeat. Due to the dizziness, food had stopped being an option way back at the halfway point and up until then I’d only managed less than one packet of Gu Chomps. Things were pretty dire. I looked up towards the summit and wasn’t actually sure my body could physically make it, let alone finish. I paused to have a laugh with a guy beside me about what a pathetic state I was in, looked out at the beauty of the surrounding mountains, took a deep empty breath that was no help whatsoever and just kept going.

From Baldy we had to descend almost all the way down to the finish only to climb back up to hidden peak and do it all again. The way down was mostly gravel road. Needles to say I wasn’t too inspired about this. I yet again managed to reel in a few of the folks who had passed me on the last climb but felt it was pointless as we were just going to go up again. The climb up was a fun one heading up a handsome ridge track. I could see the bright orange shirt of Stephanie (in second) ahead of me up the ridge; I must have made some ground on the descent. When I made it to the top, however, I was told she had an eight minute lead, so I must have slogged that last climb at a wretched pace.

Ruby cross the finish in 3rd. Photo Bryon Powell/irunfar.com

It was all downhill from there and I was ever so grateful. I ditched the useless weight that was meant to be my fuel and attempted to finish ‘fast.’ This went okay for the first half of the mountain. There were some engrossing rocky switchbacks and a ludicrously steep road that kept me moving fast. Then we turned onto a mountain bike path through the trees with a painstaking number of gentle switchbacks. The finish was in sight and here I was going around in circles for no purpose that I could ordain. After the day I’d had I didn’t have the patience for it. I was slowing down, two kms from the finish on a downhill… there is a first time for everything I guess. As I rounded switchback 397 making a grunting noise and flapping my arms around like a deflating balloon man I came head to knees with one hell of a black moose. It was a bit of an anticlimax really, I was too over tired to react and he was less than surprised, I just gnuughed off around the next corner and he trundled down into the bushes.

Bare with me, we are nearly at the finish, or so you’d be right to think. Instead the track went right past the finish and started to curve gently upwards. You should have seen my face. My poor abused stomach spat the dummy and started to cramp. I jogged, I ultra shuffled, I walked. I gave the man now right behind space to pass, he tried to spur me on with some comment about how close the finish was, but after the last few looping kms I didn’t believe him. It wasn’t until I could actually see the blue markers heading down to the Hoka One One arch that I summoned the last of my will and ran down. I’ve never felt so happy to finish.

So my fist time in America. My first time getting chased by a moose (on my first run during the first hour of daylight on my first day). My first meeting of marmots, who I dearly hope to meet again. My first percolator coffee with ‘non dairy creamer (WTF?). The first race I’ve ever walked downhill. And the first race I truly felt I couldn’t have done any harder. The first race I was 100% satisfied to finish. I hope me and altitude can get on better terms, because lets face it, it wasn’t even that high, yet it didn’t just bring to my knees; it reduced me to a grovelling, darth vader breathing mess.

Speedgoat 50km results HERE Ruby placed 3rd, less than 10mins behind first and is now 5th on the Speedgoat all time list (in 6th is another Kiwi- Anna Frost, who won the race in 2012)