Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Warming up at Mars Challenge
April 19th - Great results for the team at Mars pulling off three podium spots 1 (Grant), 2 (Del), 3 (Luke) and some fastest run and bike split times (Del & Del agian;-)) Stew came home from Vietnam the night before especially to carry all our boats to the river. He only mentioned that he wished he was doing it too about once every 3 mins... Everyone was pleased with their efforts, one bloke in particular couldn't stop grinning..! A good day all round.
Monday, May 4, 2009
Jindabyne Multisport Classic
Sri Chinmoy have been running the Jindabyne Multisport Classic for five years. I’m surprised that it has failed to generate a bigger following in that time. Ever since supporting a friend in the second year of the race, it has held a fascination for me that has been hard to shake. This is despite the fact that it involves three significant swimming legs, and at the time of my introduction to the race, I couldn’t swim more than 250 m.
Three years later, I was on the start line on a chilly Sunday morning. I had spent the night listening to the wind and rain squalls and watching lightning through the curtains of Jindy Inn, wondering whether we would be allowed out on the lake in such foul weather. The morning turned out to be fairly settled, although the wind was already threatening to pick up. The eight solo athletes (including 1 female) took to the water 15 minutes ahead of the teams. As the swimmers ploughed into the water, my first thought was; “Shit; there’s 12 hours of this ahead of us. What’s the rush?” The initial rush of the soloists was nothing compared to the speed with which the team swimmers came past me about 20 minutes later.
Exiting the water 30 minutes and 1500 minutes later, my sister was introduced to the world of the support crew. She was a novice at crewing and was nervous, despite the detailed transition notes we had developed to take her step by step through everything I needed and in what order at each of the 11 transitions. The nerves at the start line paled into insignificance when she didn’t push my boat out far enough into the lake and the rudder stuck in the mud. As we freed it and I took a stroke the boat swung around 90 degrees, convincing me that the rudder had broken and my race was over. Some choice words were uttered and darling sister was sent for the tool box. As she returned I had freed the rudder and was paddling off. It wasn’t the best start to the race, I’d lost time and a number of places.
The first 9km paddle was straight forward, downwind and with a building chop made for a fast time, even better when you can jump on the wash of a behemoth on a spec ski. Lesson number one of the day, was to get a wire in my camel bak so you don’t have to stop paddling to drink, as soon as you do you lose the wash. Soon enough another behemoth came along and a congo line line formed. No more drinking until I bottomed out on a bar coming into the inlet. Then it was a sprint to the next TA anyway.
Overcoming any misgivings from the previous TA we had a lightning TA and came out onto the run in 4th place. The 7 km run started off easily enough on a concrete bike path, but quickly left that for obscure single tracks and bush bashing. I’m sure the track was well marked, but being color blind meant I couldn’t see the pink track markers unless they were fluttering in the breeze. I had to let the solo female overtake me so I could follow her. Despite this I still managed the 2nd fastest solo run for the day.
I was looking forward to the first 9 km MTB, which was advertised as; “Not for anyone without excellent MTB skills”. As I jumped on the bike Janet called out; “Just follow the orange tape” I inwardly groaned, orange was even worse than pink. Luckily the track was distinct and I had no trouble finding it. It was easy, wherever there were more rocks than anywhere else that was where the track was. As I was riding along at about 5 km an hr picking my way over the rocks I was wishing I could meet the guy who cut this off camber technical nightmare into the hillside. It took me around 40 minutes to complete the 9km course, but it was great riding and great fun. Especially the final gully, where the guy after me launched his bike, scattered the spectators and landed on a parked car, busting his ribs in the process.
2500m swim; my nemesis. I had actually raced reasonably conservatively, knowing that I had only swum this distance a handful of times before. The first 500m went along alright, but as a rounded the first bouy and started off down wind, I lost all rhythm, felt my legs dragging in the water and quickly reverted to breast stroke. I’d recently read Des Renford’s book on marathon swimming and learned that the first guy to swim the English Channel had done it breast stroke, so if he could swim 40km then I could do this swim no matter how long it took. I must have got sick of people asking me if I was about to drown, because at the bottom marker, with a bit less than a km to swim I went back to freestyle and finished the swim off. 1hr 20 min is a long time to swim 2 ½ kms and I had fallen back to 6th place.
The good thing about swimming that slow is you don’t use up a lot of energy and back in the boat I switched out of preservation mode and back into race mode. The next paddle was only 5 ½ km straight into a freshening breeze. Boat selection proved to be an important strategy. Many paddlers had already been picked up by the rescue boats, having not been able to handle the wind chop. Others had stayed close to the shore, while I was able to head straight across the bay, making up one place. The other important strategy was to actually know where you were going, the paddle legs were not marked particularly well, and the only way I pinpointed the TA was to watch the MTB’s riding along the shore and head for where I could first see them coming out from behind a headland.
From the boat it was time to give the upper body a rest and jump onto the MTB for a quick 11 km blast through open farm land. The course was relatively flat and the greatest challenge was for the support crews to get the boat packed up and to get to the next TA before me.
The most challenging run stage followed the MTB. It was a 12 km run along rocky single track which climbed up a gully for around 9 kms before turning around climbing a ridge line and then descending to a picnic ground before a final climb up to the TA. It is the first time the course leaves the lake and enters the Kosciusko National Park. As soon as you leave the lake you enter the eucalypt forest. While the climbing was starting to take a heavy toll on the quads, the change in scenery makes a welcome change. Despite walking some of the steeper sections I was able to pass a couple of other soloists, and arrived at the TA in fourth place.
The longest ride of the day was a 40km tour around the north western corner of the lake. It started with a steady 6 to 8 km climb (depending on who you listen to) climbing 500m up into the snow fields. The gradient was a manageable, being under 10% most of the way, although the head wind through the pass almost had me back in granny gear. The descent on the bitumen then hard packed gravel was fast and freezing; by the time I hit the bottom my hands were cold enough to prevent me shifting up into the big ring. This proved unnecessary as you are almost immediately faced with the second climb of the day. It is a much harder gravel climb, the first half of which can be done in the middle ring; just, the second half is down into granny and a winch up the hill. The best thing about this ride, is that once you’re over the top there is about 15 km of sweet downhill, complete with water bar jumps, sweeping curves and sharp gullies. The course setting sadists are not far away and after you exit the forest into open farm land you seem to approach the lake at least 5 times before you actually get to descend down to the TA.
The end of the race is tantalizingly close as you enter the water for the final 1.4km swim. I was seriously nervous about this leg as it was 3 years ago that I saw the athlete I was supporting crippled by cramps, and needing to hang off the kayak repeatedly as I paddled along beside him. My quads were pretty juiced and my hamstrings were tight, but I had been sucking down the Torq electrolyte all day and there was no indication of the onset of cramping, so with more than a little trepidation I set off. My nervousness was unnecessary as I quickly got into a rhythm, and slowly but surely stroked my way round the course. I was navigationally challenged at times, and did appreciate the rescue boat which followed me, thanks to the insistence of my support crew. 40 minutes later I crawled from the water thankful to be taking off my wetsuit for the last time.
As I jumped into my boat for the penultimate satge, a final 9.5kms paddle across the lake towards Jindabyne, Janet called out; “just paddle to a marker, then to another one, cross the bay then head into a little inlet that you probably won’t be able to see.” Another groan, and a prayer that there will be someone to follow. I knew the inlet was going to be hard to spot, but I had recollections from the last time I was here and I had semi committed the map to memory. Still feeling strong I headed off to cross the lake for the last time. Frustratingly, my prayers weren’t answered, there was no one to follow and not even a rescue boat to ask directions. I had to stop with about 3 kms to go and try and decipher the landmarks I had committed to memory. The idea of heading for the final marker was fruitless; there were buoys all over the lake, and no sign of curiosity rocks, which I was meant to be heading. There were lots of low lying rocks, but none in the direction I felt I should have been heading for. Another paddler eventually came up to me and we quickly discussed the best option. As it turned out after progressing another 1500m, I recognized the rocks I was meant to be heading for and was able to head directly for the TA, the navigation issues probably cost me another 15 minutes.
The final run is an easy, flat 5.5 km into town along the shore of the lake on a concrete bike path; that is if anything is easy after a race like this. Getting out of the car back at the accommodation was challenging enough. Finally I crossed the line having held onto fourth place for the last half of the race. The last 4 hours seemed to fly by, I’m not sure whether it was because I was in a daze, or whether because I was enjoying myself so much, but before I knew it I was crossing the line to the half hearted clapping of half a dozen Sri Chinmoy volunteers. My support crew only made it to the line in time to watch me inhale one of the delicious veggie burgers that were on offer.
Having completed the race, I am even more surprised that more people don’t take up the challenge. It is a good fun race, which is constantly changing and keeping you on your toes. The shorter legs are a great format that ensures the racing never becomes a grind and motivates you to keep charging the whole time. Yes, being a good swimmer is a big advantage, but I proved that it’s not essential to being able to complete the event. The country side is stunning, the MTBing is fun and the paddling is fast for the better paddlers and yet achievable for beginners.
A big thanks to Janet, my official support crew ( you were totally awesome, and were as professional as any athlete could ever wish for), Lizzie, my unofficial crew, who is typical of the great people you meet at these events. Having met at the start line, she was just as supportive, encouraging and helpful as any long suffering support crew would have been, Gen and the crew at Torq, I am constantly amazed at what you can achieve on these products. I got around the course in around 12 ½ hrs, almost exclusively on liquid carbs and gels, I never felt flat, never felt close to cramping, and was able to move freely the day after. Del my Keen Torqer team mate who taught me to swim, and finally to my long suffering family who have to put up with the time away from them; training and racing, the mysterious debits from the bank accounts for gear and race entries, the mindless banter about all things outdoorie and yet continue to be supportive of nearly all of the crazy things I do and still want to do.
Three years later, I was on the start line on a chilly Sunday morning. I had spent the night listening to the wind and rain squalls and watching lightning through the curtains of Jindy Inn, wondering whether we would be allowed out on the lake in such foul weather. The morning turned out to be fairly settled, although the wind was already threatening to pick up. The eight solo athletes (including 1 female) took to the water 15 minutes ahead of the teams. As the swimmers ploughed into the water, my first thought was; “Shit; there’s 12 hours of this ahead of us. What’s the rush?” The initial rush of the soloists was nothing compared to the speed with which the team swimmers came past me about 20 minutes later.
Exiting the water 30 minutes and 1500 minutes later, my sister was introduced to the world of the support crew. She was a novice at crewing and was nervous, despite the detailed transition notes we had developed to take her step by step through everything I needed and in what order at each of the 11 transitions. The nerves at the start line paled into insignificance when she didn’t push my boat out far enough into the lake and the rudder stuck in the mud. As we freed it and I took a stroke the boat swung around 90 degrees, convincing me that the rudder had broken and my race was over. Some choice words were uttered and darling sister was sent for the tool box. As she returned I had freed the rudder and was paddling off. It wasn’t the best start to the race, I’d lost time and a number of places.
The first 9km paddle was straight forward, downwind and with a building chop made for a fast time, even better when you can jump on the wash of a behemoth on a spec ski. Lesson number one of the day, was to get a wire in my camel bak so you don’t have to stop paddling to drink, as soon as you do you lose the wash. Soon enough another behemoth came along and a congo line line formed. No more drinking until I bottomed out on a bar coming into the inlet. Then it was a sprint to the next TA anyway.
Overcoming any misgivings from the previous TA we had a lightning TA and came out onto the run in 4th place. The 7 km run started off easily enough on a concrete bike path, but quickly left that for obscure single tracks and bush bashing. I’m sure the track was well marked, but being color blind meant I couldn’t see the pink track markers unless they were fluttering in the breeze. I had to let the solo female overtake me so I could follow her. Despite this I still managed the 2nd fastest solo run for the day.I was looking forward to the first 9 km MTB, which was advertised as; “Not for anyone without excellent MTB skills”. As I jumped on the bike Janet called out; “Just follow the orange tape” I inwardly groaned, orange was even worse than pink. Luckily the track was distinct and I had no trouble finding it. It was easy, wherever there were more rocks than anywhere else that was where the track was. As I was riding along at about 5 km an hr picking my way over the rocks I was wishing I could meet the guy who cut this off camber technical nightmare into the hillside. It took me around 40 minutes to complete the 9km course, but it was great riding and great fun. Especially the final gully, where the guy after me launched his bike, scattered the spectators and landed on a parked car, busting his ribs in the process.
2500m swim; my nemesis. I had actually raced reasonably conservatively, knowing that I had only swum this distance a handful of times before. The first 500m went along alright, but as a rounded the first bouy and started off down wind, I lost all rhythm, felt my legs dragging in the water and quickly reverted to breast stroke. I’d recently read Des Renford’s book on marathon swimming and learned that the first guy to swim the English Channel had done it breast stroke, so if he could swim 40km then I could do this swim no matter how long it took. I must have got sick of people asking me if I was about to drown, because at the bottom marker, with a bit less than a km to swim I went back to freestyle and finished the swim off. 1hr 20 min is a long time to swim 2 ½ kms and I had fallen back to 6th place.
The good thing about swimming that slow is you don’t use up a lot of energy and back in the boat I switched out of preservation mode and back into race mode. The next paddle was only 5 ½ km straight into a freshening breeze. Boat selection proved to be an important strategy. Many paddlers had already been picked up by the rescue boats, having not been able to handle the wind chop. Others had stayed close to the shore, while I was able to head straight across the bay, making up one place. The other important strategy was to actually know where you were going, the paddle legs were not marked particularly well, and the only way I pinpointed the TA was to watch the MTB’s riding along the shore and head for where I could first see them coming out from behind a headland.
From the boat it was time to give the upper body a rest and jump onto the MTB for a quick 11 km blast through open farm land. The course was relatively flat and the greatest challenge was for the support crews to get the boat packed up and to get to the next TA before me.
The most challenging run stage followed the MTB. It was a 12 km run along rocky single track which climbed up a gully for around 9 kms before turning around climbing a ridge line and then descending to a picnic ground before a final climb up to the TA. It is the first time the course leaves the lake and enters the Kosciusko National Park. As soon as you leave the lake you enter the eucalypt forest. While the climbing was starting to take a heavy toll on the quads, the change in scenery makes a welcome change. Despite walking some of the steeper sections I was able to pass a couple of other soloists, and arrived at the TA in fourth place.
The longest ride of the day was a 40km tour around the north western corner of the lake. It started with a steady 6 to 8 km climb (depending on who you listen to) climbing 500m up into the snow fields. The gradient was a manageable, being under 10% most of the way, although the head wind through the pass almost had me back in granny gear. The descent on the bitumen then hard packed gravel was fast and freezing; by the time I hit the bottom my hands were cold enough to prevent me shifting up into the big ring. This proved unnecessary as you are almost immediately faced with the second climb of the day. It is a much harder gravel climb, the first half of which can be done in the middle ring; just, the second half is down into granny and a winch up the hill. The best thing about this ride, is that once you’re over the top there is about 15 km of sweet downhill, complete with water bar jumps, sweeping curves and sharp gullies. The course setting sadists are not far away and after you exit the forest into open farm land you seem to approach the lake at least 5 times before you actually get to descend down to the TA.
The end of the race is tantalizingly close as you enter the water for the final 1.4km swim. I was seriously nervous about this leg as it was 3 years ago that I saw the athlete I was supporting crippled by cramps, and needing to hang off the kayak repeatedly as I paddled along beside him. My quads were pretty juiced and my hamstrings were tight, but I had been sucking down the Torq electrolyte all day and there was no indication of the onset of cramping, so with more than a little trepidation I set off. My nervousness was unnecessary as I quickly got into a rhythm, and slowly but surely stroked my way round the course. I was navigationally challenged at times, and did appreciate the rescue boat which followed me, thanks to the insistence of my support crew. 40 minutes later I crawled from the water thankful to be taking off my wetsuit for the last time.
As I jumped into my boat for the penultimate satge, a final 9.5kms paddle across the lake towards Jindabyne, Janet called out; “just paddle to a marker, then to another one, cross the bay then head into a little inlet that you probably won’t be able to see.” Another groan, and a prayer that there will be someone to follow. I knew the inlet was going to be hard to spot, but I had recollections from the last time I was here and I had semi committed the map to memory. Still feeling strong I headed off to cross the lake for the last time. Frustratingly, my prayers weren’t answered, there was no one to follow and not even a rescue boat to ask directions. I had to stop with about 3 kms to go and try and decipher the landmarks I had committed to memory. The idea of heading for the final marker was fruitless; there were buoys all over the lake, and no sign of curiosity rocks, which I was meant to be heading. There were lots of low lying rocks, but none in the direction I felt I should have been heading for. Another paddler eventually came up to me and we quickly discussed the best option. As it turned out after progressing another 1500m, I recognized the rocks I was meant to be heading for and was able to head directly for the TA, the navigation issues probably cost me another 15 minutes.
The final run is an easy, flat 5.5 km into town along the shore of the lake on a concrete bike path; that is if anything is easy after a race like this. Getting out of the car back at the accommodation was challenging enough. Finally I crossed the line having held onto fourth place for the last half of the race. The last 4 hours seemed to fly by, I’m not sure whether it was because I was in a daze, or whether because I was enjoying myself so much, but before I knew it I was crossing the line to the half hearted clapping of half a dozen Sri Chinmoy volunteers. My support crew only made it to the line in time to watch me inhale one of the delicious veggie burgers that were on offer.
Having completed the race, I am even more surprised that more people don’t take up the challenge. It is a good fun race, which is constantly changing and keeping you on your toes. The shorter legs are a great format that ensures the racing never becomes a grind and motivates you to keep charging the whole time. Yes, being a good swimmer is a big advantage, but I proved that it’s not essential to being able to complete the event. The country side is stunning, the MTBing is fun and the paddling is fast for the better paddlers and yet achievable for beginners.
A big thanks to Janet, my official support crew ( you were totally awesome, and were as professional as any athlete could ever wish for), Lizzie, my unofficial crew, who is typical of the great people you meet at these events. Having met at the start line, she was just as supportive, encouraging and helpful as any long suffering support crew would have been, Gen and the crew at Torq, I am constantly amazed at what you can achieve on these products. I got around the course in around 12 ½ hrs, almost exclusively on liquid carbs and gels, I never felt flat, never felt close to cramping, and was able to move freely the day after. Del my Keen Torqer team mate who taught me to swim, and finally to my long suffering family who have to put up with the time away from them; training and racing, the mysterious debits from the bank accounts for gear and race entries, the mindless banter about all things outdoorie and yet continue to be supportive of nearly all of the crazy things I do and still want to do.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Anaconda Lorne 2008 by Grant Suckling
The Anaconda race in Lorne was my first ‘adventure race’ late in 2006; it was an incredible experience, literally life changing. Looking back at the athlete that limped across that finish line two years ago and comparing him to me today, it has been an awesome journey. This race will always be important to me, and any improvement in my sport will be judged by my performance when I return here each year.
This year it was all about everything but the swim for me, with the words “your race starts after you get out of the water” ringing in my ears from our coach Simon Knowles, I started the race with a grand total of two swimming sessions under my belt, totalling 1:10 in the water! I came out of the water next to Bruce Dunlop who said “good swim Grant…” as I ran past him on the beach. Looking at my watch I looked back at him in horror, 40 minutes!!! Bloody hell… That’s worse than any numbers I had worked through my head before the race! Over six minutes slower than last year. This equalled a 10 minute deficit to the individual leaders as I started the paddle.
I was to find out later that the swim course was a fair bit longer this year, wish I’d known that out on the course and I wouldn’t have been so hard on myself, it certainly gave my confidence a nice little smack on the chin at the time.
Due to the marginal weather conditions the alternate course was used. This meant paddling in Louttit bay which is a triangle course largely protected from the South Westerlies blowing out at sea, the first turn around buoy near the Lorne Pier was exposed to the wind a bit, but as soon as we turned we had a great tail wind and swell pushing us all the way down the longest side of the triangle to the next buoy. It was here that I had one of my finest dummy spits of all time when a scared and confused competitor stopped in front of me in the middle of the racing line beside the buoy. I dug deep into the water to avoid “t-boning” his boat, and a moment later was hit from the side by a swell that put me in the water. I could count the amount of time it took to get back in the boat by the number of expletives I sent across the water at my fellow competitor if I could remember them all, not my finest moment!
No real harm was done; in fact I should be grateful for the activation of the angry switch. The rest of the paddle went reasonably well, but didn’t feel as fast as I would have liked. It was fast enough though, taking me from 37th to 7th individual in the 3rd fastest individual paddle split for the day only 39 seconds behind the fastest (Richard Ussher).
The heart rate was pretty high for the run up the beach to transition from paddle to run, precious seconds disappeared whilst I wrestled with the tangled race bib in the transition area and headed out 1:04 behind 6th placed Sam Hume. Sam was running well but had much less speed over the rocks, which meant I came up to within 60-70 metres behind him by the time we reached the crossing at St Georges River. I slowly whittled away the gap before overtaking him in the orchard at Allenvale where I ducked under the trees at the corner to sneak a few metres in front of him, he was to run on my heals for most of the back section of the run, briefly overtaking me for about 100 yards climbing up from the last Allenvale road crossing, but I immediately took the lead again on the short downhill section that followed. One thing was obvious to us both, rough technical running was not his strong suit, and me being one of only a handful of competitors who had actually trained on the alternate run course, I was excited about the ripping decent and rough country ahead where I planned to make my move.
In typical Jacoby (race director) style, the run included a gnarly off track section with dense, prickly undergrowth followed by a nice scramble up a ridiculously steep rocky slope that. It was through here that I finally got rid of Sam Hume. The more undulating terrain was nearly over, with only a couple of small sharp climbs left before a steep decent back to St Georges River, I overtook another couple of team runners and continued at good pace. It was at this point that my race was almost shattered. A bad ankle sprain had me rolling head over heels down the hill screaming in pain. Anger and despair raged through my head, more cursing, this time all aimed at myself, how could I not be more careful?!! Was my race over? It was pretty bad… Just keep moving, run like it doesn’t hurt, harden the hell up princess!
The run back to Lorne was excruciating, but I was determined to maintain my position and pushed through the pain without losing a place. Jumping onto my bike I was relieved to know the running was over for now, but as soon as I stood on the pedals to race back onto the course it was immediately obvious that this ride would be done sitting down, the ankle was not okay.
No bother, I had been looking forward to this ride and a little thing like a sore ankle was not going to stop me exorcising last year’s MTB demons. I knew I was better than I had shown and was determined to prove it. The ride went well, despite not being able to stand I reeled in individual competitors John Kent, and last year’s second place getter Glen Kirby. In the end my ride time was the 3rd fastest individual time registered behind 1st and 2nd’s Richard Ussher and Jarrod Kohlar.
Whilst the final beach run was agonising, I was grateful that there were no other competitors in sight, so with no need to flog myself back up the beach I cruised home knowing that I had run a pretty good race. I was to finish in 5th place; Sam Hume had unfortunately short coursed the run by accident and slipped by me without either of our knowledge. A top 5 finish earned me the honour of standing on the podium (not to mention getting into the prize money!), which I was quite chuffed about.
1st place Richard Ussher congratulated me and suggested I come and race in NZ some time, to which I replied “Yeah for sure… I’m actually coming over for Coast to Coast in February”. I never would have dreamed 2 years ago that I would have shared a simple conversation like that with a world champion whilst standing on a podium, what a ride.
This year it was all about everything but the swim for me, with the words “your race starts after you get out of the water” ringing in my ears from our coach Simon Knowles, I started the race with a grand total of two swimming sessions under my belt, totalling 1:10 in the water! I came out of the water next to Bruce Dunlop who said “good swim Grant…” as I ran past him on the beach. Looking at my watch I looked back at him in horror, 40 minutes!!! Bloody hell… That’s worse than any numbers I had worked through my head before the race! Over six minutes slower than last year. This equalled a 10 minute deficit to the individual leaders as I started the paddle.
I was to find out later that the swim course was a fair bit longer this year, wish I’d known that out on the course and I wouldn’t have been so hard on myself, it certainly gave my confidence a nice little smack on the chin at the time.
Due to the marginal weather conditions the alternate course was used. This meant paddling in Louttit bay which is a triangle course largely protected from the South Westerlies blowing out at sea, the first turn around buoy near the Lorne Pier was exposed to the wind a bit, but as soon as we turned we had a great tail wind and swell pushing us all the way down the longest side of the triangle to the next buoy. It was here that I had one of my finest dummy spits of all time when a scared and confused competitor stopped in front of me in the middle of the racing line beside the buoy. I dug deep into the water to avoid “t-boning” his boat, and a moment later was hit from the side by a swell that put me in the water. I could count the amount of time it took to get back in the boat by the number of expletives I sent across the water at my fellow competitor if I could remember them all, not my finest moment!
No real harm was done; in fact I should be grateful for the activation of the angry switch. The rest of the paddle went reasonably well, but didn’t feel as fast as I would have liked. It was fast enough though, taking me from 37th to 7th individual in the 3rd fastest individual paddle split for the day only 39 seconds behind the fastest (Richard Ussher).
The heart rate was pretty high for the run up the beach to transition from paddle to run, precious seconds disappeared whilst I wrestled with the tangled race bib in the transition area and headed out 1:04 behind 6th placed Sam Hume. Sam was running well but had much less speed over the rocks, which meant I came up to within 60-70 metres behind him by the time we reached the crossing at St Georges River. I slowly whittled away the gap before overtaking him in the orchard at Allenvale where I ducked under the trees at the corner to sneak a few metres in front of him, he was to run on my heals for most of the back section of the run, briefly overtaking me for about 100 yards climbing up from the last Allenvale road crossing, but I immediately took the lead again on the short downhill section that followed. One thing was obvious to us both, rough technical running was not his strong suit, and me being one of only a handful of competitors who had actually trained on the alternate run course, I was excited about the ripping decent and rough country ahead where I planned to make my move.
In typical Jacoby (race director) style, the run included a gnarly off track section with dense, prickly undergrowth followed by a nice scramble up a ridiculously steep rocky slope that. It was through here that I finally got rid of Sam Hume. The more undulating terrain was nearly over, with only a couple of small sharp climbs left before a steep decent back to St Georges River, I overtook another couple of team runners and continued at good pace. It was at this point that my race was almost shattered. A bad ankle sprain had me rolling head over heels down the hill screaming in pain. Anger and despair raged through my head, more cursing, this time all aimed at myself, how could I not be more careful?!! Was my race over? It was pretty bad… Just keep moving, run like it doesn’t hurt, harden the hell up princess!
The run back to Lorne was excruciating, but I was determined to maintain my position and pushed through the pain without losing a place. Jumping onto my bike I was relieved to know the running was over for now, but as soon as I stood on the pedals to race back onto the course it was immediately obvious that this ride would be done sitting down, the ankle was not okay.
No bother, I had been looking forward to this ride and a little thing like a sore ankle was not going to stop me exorcising last year’s MTB demons. I knew I was better than I had shown and was determined to prove it. The ride went well, despite not being able to stand I reeled in individual competitors John Kent, and last year’s second place getter Glen Kirby. In the end my ride time was the 3rd fastest individual time registered behind 1st and 2nd’s Richard Ussher and Jarrod Kohlar.
Whilst the final beach run was agonising, I was grateful that there were no other competitors in sight, so with no need to flog myself back up the beach I cruised home knowing that I had run a pretty good race. I was to finish in 5th place; Sam Hume had unfortunately short coursed the run by accident and slipped by me without either of our knowledge. A top 5 finish earned me the honour of standing on the podium (not to mention getting into the prize money!), which I was quite chuffed about.
1st place Richard Ussher congratulated me and suggested I come and race in NZ some time, to which I replied “Yeah for sure… I’m actually coming over for Coast to Coast in February”. I never would have dreamed 2 years ago that I would have shared a simple conversation like that with a world champion whilst standing on a podium, what a ride.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Kathmandu Adventure Race; by Grant Suckling
“Huh! We’ll win that easy” said Luke. Hmm, surely there’ll be enough competition to ensure that’s far from a foregone conclusion I thought, but Luke’s confidence was so blatant that I assumed the field must be fairly average at best.
Those were the thoughts that preceded the Kathmandu Adventure Race at Lysterfield. I had never really started a race assuming that we would win before, it was unnerving. My typical pre-race mental game hinges on me being the underdog, “prove the bastards wrong” and all that. I tried to get comfortable with the assumption of a win by telling myself that the event was for less experienced/fit people and that we’d probably be the only experienced Adventure Racers there. The car park at the start however was chockers, with heaps of the usual Adventure Racers that I’ve met over the past couple of years, and these people were neither unfit nor inexperienced! I was sure Luke and I were in better nick than any of the people there that we knew, but their presence meant we could afford no mistakes, and what’s more, with all these people, what of the ones we didn’t know?
Anyway, whatever, go hard and prove to the bastards that we’re the best; aye!?
This is officially the first time I have ever started a race and sprinted into the lead with the intention of dictating the race on our terms. Luke and I worked brilliantly as a team from the outset, with a fluent transition from a short sprint to paddle seeing us already clear of the field. We lead the first paddle from start to finish with a couple of teams reasonably close behind.
The first run was to make Luke re-assess his earlier assumptions of victory when two very fit blokes cruised past us effortlessly, as we laboured along wondering how the hell they managed to make their speed look so easy. They finished the run a good 500m ahead of us, but a poor transition saw us riding out close on their wheels for the first bike. After a km or two of open track we hit the first single track right behind them and watched with glee as they re-oriented their map with confused looks on their faces.
As if the revelation that they weren’t great navigators wasn’t good enough news, moments later we discovered that whilst they were very fit, they couldn’t ride the technical single track as fast as us. Add intermediate navigation skills to intermediate technical MTB skills and the resultant lack of speed in those conditions meant we never saw those guys anywhere near us again, nor anyone else for that matter!
Luke had a great day with the maps, and I was feeling good enough to run ahead (<50 metres!) and punch the control card, then catch up again with the ‘unrelenting forward speed machine’ that is Luke. The race had a lot of transitions (run, paddle, run, bike, run, bike, run, bike, paddle!) and we nailed every one really well, the last run we even managed to smash the rest of the field by several minutes, showing increased speed as the day went on.
In the end we came in about 11 or 12 minutes ahead of second place in 2 hours 43 minutes, proving Luke correct. I think it could have been tighter, but it was a perfect race for us. We never backed off the pace, every transition was seamless, and despite Luke’s insistence that the nav was easy, all due credit must go to him again for never once taking a wrong turn.
Those were the thoughts that preceded the Kathmandu Adventure Race at Lysterfield. I had never really started a race assuming that we would win before, it was unnerving. My typical pre-race mental game hinges on me being the underdog, “prove the bastards wrong” and all that. I tried to get comfortable with the assumption of a win by telling myself that the event was for less experienced/fit people and that we’d probably be the only experienced Adventure Racers there. The car park at the start however was chockers, with heaps of the usual Adventure Racers that I’ve met over the past couple of years, and these people were neither unfit nor inexperienced! I was sure Luke and I were in better nick than any of the people there that we knew, but their presence meant we could afford no mistakes, and what’s more, with all these people, what of the ones we didn’t know?
Anyway, whatever, go hard and prove to the bastards that we’re the best; aye!?
This is officially the first time I have ever started a race and sprinted into the lead with the intention of dictating the race on our terms. Luke and I worked brilliantly as a team from the outset, with a fluent transition from a short sprint to paddle seeing us already clear of the field. We lead the first paddle from start to finish with a couple of teams reasonably close behind.
The first run was to make Luke re-assess his earlier assumptions of victory when two very fit blokes cruised past us effortlessly, as we laboured along wondering how the hell they managed to make their speed look so easy. They finished the run a good 500m ahead of us, but a poor transition saw us riding out close on their wheels for the first bike. After a km or two of open track we hit the first single track right behind them and watched with glee as they re-oriented their map with confused looks on their faces.
As if the revelation that they weren’t great navigators wasn’t good enough news, moments later we discovered that whilst they were very fit, they couldn’t ride the technical single track as fast as us. Add intermediate navigation skills to intermediate technical MTB skills and the resultant lack of speed in those conditions meant we never saw those guys anywhere near us again, nor anyone else for that matter!
Luke had a great day with the maps, and I was feeling good enough to run ahead (<50 metres!) and punch the control card, then catch up again with the ‘unrelenting forward speed machine’ that is Luke. The race had a lot of transitions (run, paddle, run, bike, run, bike, run, bike, paddle!) and we nailed every one really well, the last run we even managed to smash the rest of the field by several minutes, showing increased speed as the day went on.
In the end we came in about 11 or 12 minutes ahead of second place in 2 hours 43 minutes, proving Luke correct. I think it could have been tighter, but it was a perfect race for us. We never backed off the pace, every transition was seamless, and despite Luke’s insistence that the nav was easy, all due credit must go to him again for never once taking a wrong turn.
Surf Coast six hour MTB Enduro by Grant Suckling
Luke and I had chatted about the Surf Coast Six Hour as a good prospect for a training ride to keep things mixed up a bit. Beretta’s Bike Hub was keen for us to ride with their team and we were keen to do what we could to fly the flag for them. We both agreed it wasn’t a target event so there’d be no tapering, but we were going pretty well and hoped for a reasonable sort of result anyway.
I was looking forward to participating as I learned that more and more people I knew would be there for the race. Best of all, my brother would be there with the CFA team which was great news.
Beretta’s Bike Hub ended up entering a few teams, and the boys who hadn’t tapered (i.e. Grant and Luke) were to be a team of only two, whoops! Looks like the workload was to be a little more than expected… My late arrival at the start meant that Luke would do the first two laps; we had agreed to do 2 each to start with and see how we went from there.
The place was jumping, bikes and riders everywhere, sponsors tents, live music, food cooking in stalls to tempt us back to transition, it was all happening. Luke went around the first couple of laps in a solid time, keeping within a reasonable distance of the leaders. Then it was my turn.
The course started with a ‘little pinch’ to get the heart rate up (way up if you ride it the way I did!), my first lap was a self imposed shock to the system, any concept of ‘pacing myself’ for later or ‘not pushing too hard’ so I could train the next day was completely gone from my head. I reckon I had the worst case of white line fever that I’d ever had, something was telling my brain that this was an all out sprint race! Silly boy…
As it turns out, the course was a good ‘up and down’ course with no really long climbs, so recovery time was available to help me get over my adrenaline fuelled pace. But the penny hadn’t dropped, after every small recovery I attacked againJ.
Fortunately I ironed out my brain a little for my second lap, the fact that I was hurting (just a little) contributed to the change of attitude. But still not enough to stop me running through the bush to overtake a few more whilst straddling the top tube of my Cannondale Rush (‘Kenny’), I seem to remember people saying something that involved references to their God, and maybe something about an animal as I passed, either they were getting involved with a deeper meaning of what they were doing, or possibly enjoying the native wildlife…? Maybe I was still going to hard…
The course was great with some good little climbs, and obviously the resultant downhill sections were great fun. There was heaps of good single track however some had sandy pockets that rutted up a bit as the race went on which made for some hairy squeezes through the trees as you were pitched back and forth at the ruts whim, but happily accidents were only witnessed on this day.
The riders thinned out as time went on (particularly after the 3 hour finished), so less people to overtake meant we could settle into a rhythm. Our lap times became more consistent as we switched to one lap each, and the night riding was pretty familiar to us from a long winter training in the dark at the You Yangs.
We were going pretty well in the field, the leaders were well ahead of the pack, but we were still within reach of 2nd place (Team Rapid Ascent), running a few minutes behind them for most of the night. Team Rapid Ascent’s John Jacoby and Sam Maffett were both riding well, the gap seesawed for pretty much the entire race, but the positions never changed and we were to end up finishing about 5 minutes behind them in 3rd place.
Of the 145 teams that entered the 6 hour, we were one of only 3 to complete 13 laps finishing 3rd outright. Luke and I were both very pleased with the result, especially considering we had just gone down there to participate. My inability to follow my ‘participation’ race plan earned me some great stats – of the total 1,658 laps timed, I had both the fastest and equal fourth fastest day lap times of 25:31 (49 seconds ahead of the next best!) and 26:28 respectively. I also had both of the two fastest night laps in 27:09 and 27:31. This race was a great confidence booster for the upcoming Anaconda race in Lorne; all going well last year’s bike time would be obliterated!
A special thanks to Beretta’s Bike Hub for organising our entry and providing the fully decked out tent for our racing comfort, and once again, how could we keep the speed up without the most powerful weapon in the arsenal – TORQ bars, gels and electrolyte energy drink, Forrest Fruit gels were made for this event!
I was looking forward to participating as I learned that more and more people I knew would be there for the race. Best of all, my brother would be there with the CFA team which was great news.
Beretta’s Bike Hub ended up entering a few teams, and the boys who hadn’t tapered (i.e. Grant and Luke) were to be a team of only two, whoops! Looks like the workload was to be a little more than expected… My late arrival at the start meant that Luke would do the first two laps; we had agreed to do 2 each to start with and see how we went from there.
The place was jumping, bikes and riders everywhere, sponsors tents, live music, food cooking in stalls to tempt us back to transition, it was all happening. Luke went around the first couple of laps in a solid time, keeping within a reasonable distance of the leaders. Then it was my turn.
The course started with a ‘little pinch’ to get the heart rate up (way up if you ride it the way I did!), my first lap was a self imposed shock to the system, any concept of ‘pacing myself’ for later or ‘not pushing too hard’ so I could train the next day was completely gone from my head. I reckon I had the worst case of white line fever that I’d ever had, something was telling my brain that this was an all out sprint race! Silly boy…
As it turns out, the course was a good ‘up and down’ course with no really long climbs, so recovery time was available to help me get over my adrenaline fuelled pace. But the penny hadn’t dropped, after every small recovery I attacked againJ.
Fortunately I ironed out my brain a little for my second lap, the fact that I was hurting (just a little) contributed to the change of attitude. But still not enough to stop me running through the bush to overtake a few more whilst straddling the top tube of my Cannondale Rush (‘Kenny’), I seem to remember people saying something that involved references to their God, and maybe something about an animal as I passed, either they were getting involved with a deeper meaning of what they were doing, or possibly enjoying the native wildlife…? Maybe I was still going to hard…
The course was great with some good little climbs, and obviously the resultant downhill sections were great fun. There was heaps of good single track however some had sandy pockets that rutted up a bit as the race went on which made for some hairy squeezes through the trees as you were pitched back and forth at the ruts whim, but happily accidents were only witnessed on this day.
The riders thinned out as time went on (particularly after the 3 hour finished), so less people to overtake meant we could settle into a rhythm. Our lap times became more consistent as we switched to one lap each, and the night riding was pretty familiar to us from a long winter training in the dark at the You Yangs.
We were going pretty well in the field, the leaders were well ahead of the pack, but we were still within reach of 2nd place (Team Rapid Ascent), running a few minutes behind them for most of the night. Team Rapid Ascent’s John Jacoby and Sam Maffett were both riding well, the gap seesawed for pretty much the entire race, but the positions never changed and we were to end up finishing about 5 minutes behind them in 3rd place.
Of the 145 teams that entered the 6 hour, we were one of only 3 to complete 13 laps finishing 3rd outright. Luke and I were both very pleased with the result, especially considering we had just gone down there to participate. My inability to follow my ‘participation’ race plan earned me some great stats – of the total 1,658 laps timed, I had both the fastest and equal fourth fastest day lap times of 25:31 (49 seconds ahead of the next best!) and 26:28 respectively. I also had both of the two fastest night laps in 27:09 and 27:31. This race was a great confidence booster for the upcoming Anaconda race in Lorne; all going well last year’s bike time would be obliterated!
A special thanks to Beretta’s Bike Hub for organising our entry and providing the fully decked out tent for our racing comfort, and once again, how could we keep the speed up without the most powerful weapon in the arsenal – TORQ bars, gels and electrolyte energy drink, Forrest Fruit gels were made for this event!
Upper Murray Challenge
The Upper Murray Challenge has had my attention for a very long time as a must do event, it still does. This year was to be the year that nearly was, with my running legs still arguing with my competitive brain about whether they as a team were over the Bull of Africa, my individual aspirations would have to wait. In the end it was to be my paddling that would get me an invite that was too good to pass up.
Scott Rantall approached me looking for a capable paddler, for which I was most flattered. Self belief is still not my strongest suit so to get an invitation from one of the best runners in the country was a fantastic compliment and I intended to do my very best to prove myself worthy. Scott planned on doing the ride as well as the run in an attempt to build on his goal to become an adventure racer, but alas, the quickest legs going around only mean it hurts more when you fall off your bike! Scott ripped the skin off his forearm and damaged his shoulder a couple of weeks before the race, he couldn’t ride... If I had a little more confidence in how well I was going on the bike I may have been a little more assertive when I suggested I was capable of doing the ride in his place, you’ll know why if you read the Surf Coast Six Hour report...
After some stress during the week leading into the event with Scott being both injured and unwell, we finally locked in a team only a day or two out. Our rider, Tim Briggs, was to be the unknown quantity to both Scott and I, but we had started to believe that as long as he could ride in the top 20% or so, Scott’s run speed and a solid paddle from me would get us somewhere near the podium.
Keen Torq’ers navigator Luke was in his element the day before the race, walking me through the course and giving me the heads up on what was to be expected on race day, valuable information that gives you that handy little edge. Very heavy rain had been forecast for the region, which had prompted much debate over the expected river levels for the paddle, those that had concerns wouldn’t have felt any better when they awoke to the sound of heavy rain on race day!
There were some tense moments prior to the start as I wandered around in the rain unable to find my team, but eventually we managed to track each other down. Tim appeared nervous which I took as a good sign, and before we knew it he was riding off into the hills and we were on our way to the MTB/Paddle transition for the long wait. A really long wait. So long in fact, that we were compelled to ask the event organisers if Tim was still coming at all! As time went on I started to worry about food, I had planned my day without allowances for waiting this long, and with only two TORQ gels (one to have 10-15 before starting and one during), my nutrition and hydration requirements were thrown into a bit of a tailspin, the longer I waited, the more my body would crave it’s next meal.
The wait continued, most of the mountain bikers had already finished the ride, and we were sure something wasn’t right. Eventually we noticed the event Director conferring with some safety people and looking in our direction. That look is unmistakable, it speaks volumes, bad things have happened.
Tim had come off his bike in apparently spectacular fashion and broken some ribs, all for a free ride home in an ambulance. Our transponder and race bib were on their way to transition and we had to make the decision as to whether or not we’d proceed as an un-ranked team. As thoughts for Tim’s wellbeing tortured me, I resisted the urge to jump in my car and head to his bedside in hospital where I could hold his hand and tend his wounds in his time of need, and decided to go for a paddle first instead (insensitive bastard that I am)! Donning the race bib it was time to hit the river.
Snowy Hydro lets extra water out of the reservoir for the race, so the river was up from the day before. Conditions for paddling were perfect, little wind, and not to warm. I ramped the pace up early planning to rate as high as possible for as long as possible.
The body felt good and with the river littered with paddlers to chase down (averaging about 1 per km), it was shaping up to be an ideal situation for a quick time. One of the best thing in any time trial style of race is the carrots that dangle ahead of you, there was no shortage of these as I had left so late, so gunning past them was a great motivator that kept the adrenaline delivered from start to finish. Some grade one rapids along the way bought variation that kept my attention the rest of the time. The river wound its way through farmland between Khancoban and Corryong, Luke had told me there would be several bridges with one main bridge signalling the half way point. Passing under the half way point suggested I was on target for a very sharp time, unless the bottom half was longer or slower than the top half I would exceed expectations.
Doing the maths is one of my favourite ways to motivating myself and occupy my mind during this type of race, calculating my progress was getting me a little bit excited, I was moving well and before I knew it there was a ‘2km to go’ sign on the side of the river!
All thought of taking care of my boat vanished as I rammed it into the rocky bank near the finishing line, leapt from the seat and sprinted for the transition. Scott was ready to go and we transitioned very fast, my wife Iris was genuinely surprised to see me already, having timed some of the earlier paddlers and made a guess as to how long I’d take. It’s so difficult to tell if you’ve gone hard enough when you’re paddling, the rate of recovery is so much better than running or riding, so it’s easy to convince yourself 5 minutes after the race that you maybe could have gone faster!
Scott ran very well, but his illness that he’d had through the week took its toll. The run course was apparently torturous, Scott’s first words at the finish line were “that was hard, I’d rather run a marathon, a marathon’s easier than that…” That said, he over took a very long line of people and ran us into 3rd position in the teams, pretty impressive!
Discussions at the finish line centred around trying to find out ‘who’s done what’ to see how your times would compare. There was one common theme when discussing the paddle, everyone expected Australia’s K1 marathon representative Tim Naughtin to produce a repeat performance and smash everyone in the paddle split, especially hot from the World Championships in the Czech Republic. I had accepted that he must be in a league of his own so imagine my surprise and pleasure when provisional results were posted at the finish line showing that Tim and I had indeed smashed the field, but the best news of all, I had Tim by about a minute!
Scott ran the 4th fastest run time which I think he was a little disappointed with, but keeping it all in perspective for him, he had been sick as a dog and nearly pulled out all together. God help us all if he gets a good lead in to an event, especially if he learns to keep up in the kayak!
The Upper Murray Challenge is now etched in bold print on the list of must do events for me as an individual competitor, hopefully 2009 is the year.
Grant Suckling
Scott Rantall approached me looking for a capable paddler, for which I was most flattered. Self belief is still not my strongest suit so to get an invitation from one of the best runners in the country was a fantastic compliment and I intended to do my very best to prove myself worthy. Scott planned on doing the ride as well as the run in an attempt to build on his goal to become an adventure racer, but alas, the quickest legs going around only mean it hurts more when you fall off your bike! Scott ripped the skin off his forearm and damaged his shoulder a couple of weeks before the race, he couldn’t ride... If I had a little more confidence in how well I was going on the bike I may have been a little more assertive when I suggested I was capable of doing the ride in his place, you’ll know why if you read the Surf Coast Six Hour report...
After some stress during the week leading into the event with Scott being both injured and unwell, we finally locked in a team only a day or two out. Our rider, Tim Briggs, was to be the unknown quantity to both Scott and I, but we had started to believe that as long as he could ride in the top 20% or so, Scott’s run speed and a solid paddle from me would get us somewhere near the podium.
Keen Torq’ers navigator Luke was in his element the day before the race, walking me through the course and giving me the heads up on what was to be expected on race day, valuable information that gives you that handy little edge. Very heavy rain had been forecast for the region, which had prompted much debate over the expected river levels for the paddle, those that had concerns wouldn’t have felt any better when they awoke to the sound of heavy rain on race day!
There were some tense moments prior to the start as I wandered around in the rain unable to find my team, but eventually we managed to track each other down. Tim appeared nervous which I took as a good sign, and before we knew it he was riding off into the hills and we were on our way to the MTB/Paddle transition for the long wait. A really long wait. So long in fact, that we were compelled to ask the event organisers if Tim was still coming at all! As time went on I started to worry about food, I had planned my day without allowances for waiting this long, and with only two TORQ gels (one to have 10-15 before starting and one during), my nutrition and hydration requirements were thrown into a bit of a tailspin, the longer I waited, the more my body would crave it’s next meal.
The wait continued, most of the mountain bikers had already finished the ride, and we were sure something wasn’t right. Eventually we noticed the event Director conferring with some safety people and looking in our direction. That look is unmistakable, it speaks volumes, bad things have happened.
Tim had come off his bike in apparently spectacular fashion and broken some ribs, all for a free ride home in an ambulance. Our transponder and race bib were on their way to transition and we had to make the decision as to whether or not we’d proceed as an un-ranked team. As thoughts for Tim’s wellbeing tortured me, I resisted the urge to jump in my car and head to his bedside in hospital where I could hold his hand and tend his wounds in his time of need, and decided to go for a paddle first instead (insensitive bastard that I am)! Donning the race bib it was time to hit the river.
Snowy Hydro lets extra water out of the reservoir for the race, so the river was up from the day before. Conditions for paddling were perfect, little wind, and not to warm. I ramped the pace up early planning to rate as high as possible for as long as possible.
The body felt good and with the river littered with paddlers to chase down (averaging about 1 per km), it was shaping up to be an ideal situation for a quick time. One of the best thing in any time trial style of race is the carrots that dangle ahead of you, there was no shortage of these as I had left so late, so gunning past them was a great motivator that kept the adrenaline delivered from start to finish. Some grade one rapids along the way bought variation that kept my attention the rest of the time. The river wound its way through farmland between Khancoban and Corryong, Luke had told me there would be several bridges with one main bridge signalling the half way point. Passing under the half way point suggested I was on target for a very sharp time, unless the bottom half was longer or slower than the top half I would exceed expectations.
Doing the maths is one of my favourite ways to motivating myself and occupy my mind during this type of race, calculating my progress was getting me a little bit excited, I was moving well and before I knew it there was a ‘2km to go’ sign on the side of the river!
All thought of taking care of my boat vanished as I rammed it into the rocky bank near the finishing line, leapt from the seat and sprinted for the transition. Scott was ready to go and we transitioned very fast, my wife Iris was genuinely surprised to see me already, having timed some of the earlier paddlers and made a guess as to how long I’d take. It’s so difficult to tell if you’ve gone hard enough when you’re paddling, the rate of recovery is so much better than running or riding, so it’s easy to convince yourself 5 minutes after the race that you maybe could have gone faster!
Scott ran very well, but his illness that he’d had through the week took its toll. The run course was apparently torturous, Scott’s first words at the finish line were “that was hard, I’d rather run a marathon, a marathon’s easier than that…” That said, he over took a very long line of people and ran us into 3rd position in the teams, pretty impressive!
Discussions at the finish line centred around trying to find out ‘who’s done what’ to see how your times would compare. There was one common theme when discussing the paddle, everyone expected Australia’s K1 marathon representative Tim Naughtin to produce a repeat performance and smash everyone in the paddle split, especially hot from the World Championships in the Czech Republic. I had accepted that he must be in a league of his own so imagine my surprise and pleasure when provisional results were posted at the finish line showing that Tim and I had indeed smashed the field, but the best news of all, I had Tim by about a minute!
Scott ran the 4th fastest run time which I think he was a little disappointed with, but keeping it all in perspective for him, he had been sick as a dog and nearly pulled out all together. God help us all if he gets a good lead in to an event, especially if he learns to keep up in the kayak!
The Upper Murray Challenge is now etched in bold print on the list of must do events for me as an individual competitor, hopefully 2009 is the year.
Grant Suckling
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