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The Glasshouse Mini-Report

It's a mini-report because I only did a mini-race! (Okay, for most people 100km on foot might not seem short, but gee it's a lot easier than 100 miles!)

Glasshouse was wet again this year. We knew it would be wet when it rained in Brisbane for most of the preceeding three weeks, but I was still a bit surprised when I checked the BOM website and found out how much wetter it had been at Beerburrum. We got away from the city fairly late and got to the Glasshose Eco-Lodge shortly after 1900h. By the time our host, Paul, had shown us to our room, and we'd headed out to the school, the dinner was all packed up.

Ian was looking pretty stressed, so we helped him move some gear with CR Milov. Milov needed somewhere to stay, due to a slight mix up with bookings and transport, so we got him to call Paul and get the other room that was free. We picked up some food on the way back, ate dinner, etc. I packed the last things into my drop bags and went to bed.

I slept like a log, which is unusual for me. I was worried that if it rained in the morning, I wouldn't be able to get out of bed, but Paul's prediction was right and the stars were bright when I got up. I went through the usual pre-race routine of a shower and not enough breakfast. I liked having the room for a second night, and not needing to pack up my gear before the race! We drove Milov and Morgan to the start, where I got weighed in and found my blood pressure was very high (despite it being very low at the doctor's clinic the previous week).

I felt pretty relaxed from the start (which is always a warning sign!) and enjoyed running with the boys. The puddles between 1a and base were more like creeks, and I figured that meant the entire course would be really wet, so after trying to skirt around the first two, I loudly proclaimed, 'Fsck it - I'm going through!' to the amusement of the boys - especially Hermie, who seems to take great pleasure in making fun of the crap I speak at races.

I was eating well and drinking well, and had to take an early nature stop just after CP 4, where Damo threw a rock at me as I crouched in the bushes. I took great pleasure in watching him slide out of control down one of the mudslides along the Goat Track. I really enjoyed this muddy section (a big warning sign, as normally I get frustrated by being slowed down by mud...) and even saved Terry (I think) from missing the turnoff onto Hennessey's Hill.

At CP6 I picked up two handbottles and Repete, whose destiny it seems is to accompany me in the Powerlines each year. He offered me a powerbar this year, but it was wrapped and not melted, so I passed. The handbottles were probably not such a good idea - as I slipped and slid one of them ended up very muddy! (This bottle has since been chewed by a small furry critter up Mt Barney, so I suppose it doesn't really matter.) I thought it was interesting that the Powerlines seeemed drier this year, but the Goat Track (and the area near 1a) was so much wetter!

Around here I saw Tamsin fly by in a blur of colour and smiles... at least I think it was her. It may have been a bird or a motorbike. I'm pretty sure I heard an accent though! I had an exciting encounter where I met some dirtbike riders - they stopped for us, but it was pretty scary coming around a blind corner, shouting and waving and hoping they would see me. Dave McKinnon found me, and I caught up to Pete again. Normally I'd smash out the section from the Powerlines to CP8 , just out of relief that I'm no longer in mud. This time, I really didn't have it in me, but I'll say it felt shorter than I remembered it.

The first loop at 8 was a world of hurt for me - mostly because I just felt really flat. Pete and his big stick kept me company but I was starting to accept the fact that running 100km after 2.5 months of no training was probably not the best idea (well there was that one run, with Tamsin)... At one stage I felt wheezy and took just one puff of Ventolin; then I kept plodding along and got back to 8, and drank some Coke and ate some of Steven's muffins before heading out on my next loop. I started to feel pretty good and caught up to RMC. I think the company cheered him up and his body followed suit over the next few hours. Susannah passed me up the hill at the end of the second loop and she was looking really strong and in excellent spirits.

My joints were all starting to ache, which is something I've never before experienced during an ultra. It felt like the growing pains I had as a kid, thought it was more likely to be shrinking pains. By the time I got to CP 7 I was feeling very sore and sorry for myself. I had to walk a lot of the section to 7, and it's usually one of my favourite bits for running. At 7 I had a cheese sandwich and some coke, and Dave passed me for the last time. On my way up to 6 I finally resorted to Nurofen. I am normally really opposed to drugs during ultras but all of the pain was symmetric - not niggles, just aches.

By the time I got into CP 6 the drugs had worn off and it was almost dark. I grabbed my PT Apex (woohoo!) and was a bit pissed that I'd put my thermals at CP 5, but who would've suspected that I'd be so much slower than in May? I had some tea and grabbed my yummy Powerbar Harvest and was about a kilometre down the road when I realised that the longsleeved shirt I'd dumped at CP 3 was probably in CP 6 now. Bummer.

Nearly made a whoopsy at Beerwah, trying to be smart and conserve my battery power. I went through the open gate, instead of over the step, but only went a few hundred metres before turning back and going the right way. I love that loop and it wasn't as muddy as I expected. When I got back out onto the road, I thought I was on the wrong one (the markings were in the track next to the road but I didn't trust it) until I saw the sign to 5a. Then when I was almost at 5, Joe thought it'd be funny to tell me I was going the wrong way. Not funny! Actually, it was pretty funny, in hindsight. Joe was an excellent unofficial crew man! At 5 I picked up Steven but more importantly I picked up a thermal shirt, gloves, and a cornish pastie. Mmmm!

Nearly home now - my misadventure would be over in a couple of hours. As I toddled down past the lookout and out towards Old Gympie Rd, I had to interrupt my journey to answer the call (for the 3rd time) - only to discover I'd forgotten to reload my stash of toilet paper, and I was down to three sheets. It was all set to be very, very messy - but three sheets turned out to be enough, thankfully.

On my way to Caves Rd I got a little confused, following what I thought was a track that Ian had beaten through the bush, but I later realised was a hairpin turn (when I looked back and saw the arrow). I felt better when Susannah confessed to doing the same thing. At 1a, Tamsin flew by again, enjoying a cookie. I stayed to chat a bit longer and then went to plod back to base. Crossing Hamburger Hill, I was blinded by another PT Apex - UCB had his on high beam.

I took a "natural break" high on the hill and was too lazy to turn my light off. I freaked out when I realised someone was coming, with a torch, from the direction of the houses. I quickly pulled up my tights and headed off. A few minutes later I realised it was actually a car coming along the road. I also linked the uncomfortable feeling digging into my hips with a failure to pull up my undies as I pulled up my tights. I spent the next few minutes running along with one gloved hand trying to locate my undies from down my thighs before giving up and stopping to straighten up.

At the bottom of that slope I found Susannah heading out. She recommended I keep right but, being so close to home, I just charged straight through all the water, enjoying the cool clear water and the sound of the frogs. It was a non-eventful finish - I grabbed my bags and went back to the hotel with Steven, bringing Nic for a shower so he wouldn't stink people out at base. He'd pulled out and it was interesting that all of the WS runners (except Spud) had a pretty disappointing run.

The race doesn't end here, for me. I got back to base at 0530 Sunday morning, ready to learn how to use the database, but then I got passed the computer and told to give it my best shot. Parso later reassured me that I really hadn't broken anything!

I must say that, once I'd given up all hope of doing a solid time, I still had a blast. Everyone at the checkpoints is such a character and it's the easiest race in the world to do without personal crew, because of you guys! It didn't matter whether you were there officially or just to help out another runner - when I came through, you made me feel like a superstar. And let's face it - Glasshouse is truly the ultimate ultra-buffet, with all those homecooked goodies!

Finally, Ian (and crew, especially Charlie) - thank you so much. Everyone knows how much time you always put into these races but I don't know if they realise how hard Ian campaigns all year long to make sure we've got the permits, got the course, and are going to fit in around other planned activities in the area. And I also doubt that people realise just how much extra effort it took in the wet to mark out the course so damn well.

Hey - that wasn't so short after all. I guess it's hard to be down on Glasshouse, even if you have a crap race. Oh, the finish time was around 15:45 - not sure exactly and I'm too lazy to check!

PS - An overnight stay on the summit of Mt Barney a few days later is not necessarily the best way to help the trenchfoot clear up. Yep, lost a few toenails.

Confession...

(I am so jealous. I am jealous, jealous, jealous - I am CUT! It is so childish of me but I'm so jealous that other people get to run the 100 miler. Sure, I could run it - but then I'd be cut because I'm so out of condition at the moment because I got a stupid cold. Does this make any sense? I'm SAD because I want to be a part of it, and as exciting as the 100 km run will be, I know that I will get to the end and think, 'Sure, where's the rest of it, I've only got 60 km to go, right?' I must keep focussed, think of the races over the next few months, and not dwell on this. But... GRRR-AAARRRGGGH!)

Okay, now that I'm over that bit, a huge good luck wish to Tamsin, Rachel and Susannah (and any other girls that I don't know about yet, who are in there to shake things up), who are all brilliant and perfectly capable of pulling out a great race in what promises to be perfect conditions. And another huge good luck to all the boys!

One for the fans...

Oh my God! Ew! Ew ew ew ew EW EW!!!!

Last night, I took a very long soak in the bath. When I got out and dried off, I noticed something unusual.

The toenail on my left little toe was, well, not on my left little toe. It was instead sort of just hanging there. Ew! So I pushed it back to where it was meant to go and hoped that I'd wake up this morning with the skin firmed up and the toenail back in place. Ew!

Well this morning it is back in place. So I still haven't lost a toenail from ultras. (I must say, I was a bit worried I'd lose it in the bottom of the bed somewhere, and never find it. If it comes off permanently, which it's bound to soon, I'd like to put it in an album. 'First toenail I lost to ultra running.'

But this toenail has a bit of a story, you see. After running Western States (where this toenail seemed to bang against my shoe the entire time despite having never done that before) I sought expert advice from people like AB, who have lost toenails before. But due to a lack of discolouration, no one believed I would lose my toenail. Well, I guess they were wrong!

And... EW!!! (Just think of it as Badwater prep...)