Great Ocean Road Marathon, Lorne -> Apollo Bay, VIC
Sunday 18th May, 2008

Here’s a little word association test: “Pre-race”. What comes to mind? Probably some mix of nerves, hopes, expectations, fear, adrenalin, dreams, excitement, anticipation, performance anxiety, etc. Add to that some worry about what the weather will be like, who is racing, does my race outfit look good, will there be enough toilets…and paper. Oh my god, is it really worth doing the race when there’s so much stress associated with it? I wonder if anyone will notice if I just chicken out…hmmmmm, sounds tempting…

I love pre-race, especially when it involves heading out of Melbourne and to a nice destination. I love the excitement of putting myself on the line; hanging it out there and exposing a bit of my inner soul to the raw elements of racing. Add a degree of physical uncertainty about the lasting the race distance and the simple ‘X’ factor of racing and there’s always something to look forward to as you toe the start line.

And so it was I headed down the coast to Lorne for the 4th annual Great Ocean Road marathon, at 45km officially an ‘ultra marathon’ simply because it traverses this famous road between Lorne and Apollo Bay – two iconic towns on this beautiful coast. Even though it was my 4th attempt at the event, it still has much appeal simply because of the privilege of running between the towns with full road closure. And each year features 2-3 Kenyan runners; little, dark skinned folks who seemingly amble away into the distance with gazelle-like ease. Damn them!!

But this race also holds some good memories for me over the previous 3 years, coming 7th, 2nd and 5th...so I have a bit of pride on the line in doing it. This year was a little different as my preparation had been haphazard, at best. Since the Australian Ironman 6 weeks previously I’d been struck down with an annoying ankle injury (peroneal tendinopathy), missing a couple of weeks of running and limited any quality preparation. Nonetheless, I know the road and wanted to run to maintain my streak with the aim of being one of the first Spartans to run 10 events…seven more to go!! So with a lot of doggedness I lined up to deal with whatever was handed out…and oh my god, did I experience some new running extremes today…

As usual the start pace out of Lorne was leisurely, at best. Chatting amongst rivals, we were biding time for the Kenyans to make a move. And at about 1.5km they did…just floating away, pursued by good friend Antony Rickards who had this race as a focus for his season. He was a towering white man amongst the little, dark skinned folks!! With another runner off the front – an Aussie – I was in 6th place (and 3rd white man) and in company of 2 others. So the race was on.

Up, down and around some of 572 corners they told us were between Lorne and Apollo Bay. The road is spectacular and challenging - it is simply never flat; twisting and changing continuously. And this year it was windy - a stiff southerly blowing white caps on Bass Strait, off the water and into our faces. The twists and turns offered some relief but nonetheless, the headwind was there all the time. The conditions were the same for everyone…and I'm sure we all got equally wet in the rain that accompanied the wind.

My goals for the event were modest, acknowledging my lack of preparation. I wanted to run the marathon distance (42.2km) in low 2:40's and to even or negative split - something I've done each previous time on this course…a plan that requires careful pacing in the first half. And to go top-10. And in the early stages it was all going to plan.

A marathon is a test not only of physical endurance, but also mental endurance. Early on you feel pretty good, form is good, and you're in control…it's so tempting to give the pace a bit of a burst, just because you can. Over the early hills, and around the bluffs that was how I felt - in control - but to be honest, didn't really feel the next gear would be much faster…my form wasn't as sharp as previous years in this race. But in race of attrition like this course provides, I was backing myself.

My 5k splits were looking solid - 19:20; 19:15; 18:46; 19:02 and 21.1k in 80:30mins. Straight out of Kennett River are the two biggest hills, and where the wind really took hold - it was blowing hard like a wind tunnel as it sheared off the side of the cliff face on the side of the road. The effort-o-meter cranked up significantly here - 20-25k in 18:46 - and the next 5k was the hardest of all due to the wind, at times literally blowing my feet from under me. Even the downhill was hard going…25-30k in 19:04, and still in 6th place.

Then I hit the wall, although mine felt like a fortress.

Marathoners the world over talk about the wall at about the 32k mark, regardless of running pace. It makes for a suffer-fest over the last 10km. And that's just about where I met the wall…waiting for me and in the space of 500m went from tired to shattered. And the goddam headwind didn't help…it was relentless.

At first it feels like the wind is just holding you back, and pushing you back down the road. And you think that if I run a little closer to the roadside bushes it might offer some shelter and my legs will feel normal again. No and no. No, there's bugger all shelter there, and no, my legs really are shot to pieces. It becomes like a bad dream…pulling out is not an option, and the quickest way to stop the discomfort is to run. What was joy at the freedom of running along a beautiful road is now despair at how bad will it get before the finish line.

My legs just had nothing. Not sore, just no spring, power or energy. I started getting dazed eyes, seeing stars and hard to focus. And nothing would help…this was very humbling. 30-35k in 22:12. At 35km Lee Troop strolled by on a training run - I congratulated him on his race win the previous day, and he asked if I was OK. Ha…funny you should ask.

I'd already started taking walking breaks from the 40k mark, and crossed the marathon distance timing mat at a slow jog in 2:45:50hrs - 10mins slower than last year. And it still got worse. The jogging got slower and shorter, and the walking more frequent. I just physically couldn't go any more…but was so close to the finish. Even in sight of the line I had to stop for a walk…summoning a final 'surge' to the line…ever so slowly and very dazed. I made sure I crossed the timing mat and stopped for good and bent over with hands on my knees, not sure what I was thinking. 45k in 3:02:54hrs, 8th place. Someone helped to the closest chair where I sat with my head on knees collecting my physical being together. Oh my god…

After a little while things became clear, and my energy stores lifted back to just being empty. Being in negative wasn't much fun. And up I got to find friends and start the post-race banter and analysis - some friends had excellent results on the day. And in the end it was a really enjoyable day and in reality, I was pretty close to my pre-race goals and expectations. However in the journey to that point was a saga of proportions I've never experienced before…but that was the best thing of all. It's good to have an end to the journey, but it's the journey that matters in the end.