Category: Sporting

Bellarine Sunset Run – 10 Feb 2024

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On the weekend I ran the half marathon at the Flying Brick (Cider) Bellarine Sunset Run. It was my 21st half marathon.

I think there were almost 900 people at this event in all. 369 runners and walkers for the half alone.

I spotted Australian cycling royalty Cadel Evans collecting his runner’s bib which got a lot of interest from our group. Cadel was looking very fit, altho a shadow of his Tour de France champion physique. Definitely still athletic, he went on to finish in 6th position for the half marathon, in a respectable 1hr 30.

It was a warm day, at least 26 degrees which led to lots of people struggling through the afternoon. But the support of the crowd and caravan park party people didn’t subside. A few along the course sprayed us with their garden hoses, which everyone appreciated. When I checked facetiously if it was in fact water, there were a variety of funny answers.

My own running pace was very controlled for the first 10kms, and I was pleased with my training to be on track somewhere under 1:50 pace, but the heat was definitely becoming a factor.

While I was running, I saw my mate Gary, my coaching counterpart for the Under 12s rugby team last year. Gary surprised me by giving me a high-five as he ran by from the other way. He’s new to running long races and had started in the group which began 20 minutes earlier.

Just before this chance encounter, doubts were entering my head whether I could continue at this pace or if my body would reluctantly slow down. I continued on, even speeding up a little as I was distracted with a mini goal to catch up to my mate. It didn’t take long to reach him, and the poor guy was definitely struggling. I thought it’d be a lot more rewarding to help him pull through his ‘hurt locker’, and also catch up with him for the first time since our kids rugby season concluded last year.

He tried unsuccessfully for me to return to my race alone instead of joining him. I wondered, did I really choose to slow down and help him with some company through the race, or did I just choose the easy option and opt out on the hard work to run faster?

It didn’t matter in the end. It was enjoyable to take it easy and ignore my finishing time and spend the time more socially. He lives on the Bellarine, not far from the half marathon route and knew the course quite well. He even ran the whole thing a few days earlier – probably contributing to the massive muscle cramps he suffered in his quads. So he knew the landmark tree to spot which signalled the final two kilometres. We finished up our last resting walk before raising the pace, and even adding a sprint down the hill and around the corner to the finish.

It felt so rewarding to cross the finish line to the cheers of the remaining crowd. Maybe a sign of our mutual struggle, we didn’t give high fives at the end, we had a hearty hug.

After getting our medals I found a grassy spot for my mate to crash and relax his painful legs, while I got us two Apple Ciders (including quite an unusual line called a Splicer). Unfortunately my phone had unlocked at some point inside my hydration vest and had pressed wrong passcodes. It resulted in the phone locking me out for 10 minutes, which blocked me from making mobile payments. So my friend had to regrettably stand up again on his painful legs and pay for the drinks I was supposedly buying us.

I ended up having more with some of our Surf Coast Trail Runners who had returned from their volunteering duties at the event. Given the afternoon’s heat they were impressed with everyone’s effort, and more than a little pleased with their decision to volley instead of run. We stayed on at the finish line cheering the finishers until the final participant crossed, closely followed by more of our SCTR friends who were the volunteer tail walkers.

The night ended with us making the last order of Bahn Bao Buns from the final food truck yet to pack up. Then we found the local pizza place still open at 9pm, which provided a great (only?) dinner option, before I made the 50 minute drive home.

Starting a half marathon at 5:20pm doesn’t feel natural to me. It’s near impossible to spend an entire day around my kids without them consuming most of my energy. Perhaps that helped with the decision to take this race comfortably in the end, which made for a wonderful running experience. Think I’ll add this event to my annual running schedule.

The Achilles Heel of growing old

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At my social old guys basketball game this evening, unfortunately a guy looks to have torn his Achilles Heel. Thinking about the unnatural contour of the tendon I saw up close still makes me a little squeamish.

It was particularly disappointing as the guy joined tonight for the first time. He had hesitated to join, due to worries about potentially repeating a prior injury to his ACL tendon. It was a sorry scene, in shiny brand new shoes he put on for the first time this evening. And quite shockingly, the incident occurred in the first minute on our team’s first attacking play.

At the end of the night, it was a big topic of conversation. One guy on my team felt guilty as it was his pass that was slightly behind the poor guy who had to slow and turn to get it – potentially causing the ominous misstep. I chimed in, it could have also been my fault actually. Me and the injured guy were last to the court and discussed who should go on first, and I encouraged him on.

I joked with one of our organisers, given it’s such a small unofficial association, what’s our public liability cover like – to pay any litigation claims from people injured. He said he didn’t know, then with slight tongue in cheek added, “there’s probably a few guys ahead of him”.

Hope the injury won’t be too serious and he makes a full and speedy recovery.

An update: Scan at hospital confirmed, he’s ruptured his Achilles. Dr Google suggests 6-9 months of recovery. Sad emoji.

Parkrun fun

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I ran another Parkrun this morning, my 40th. It’s not quite a notifiable milestone, but finally getting close.

Being part of the local Parkrun community has been more fun than I imagined. I’ve quite enjoyed seeing the same faces, and experiencing the camaraderie and often some banter.

There are always a couple of funny moments. Today it was as I dropped off my car keys at the table before the run, and one of the regular volunteers joked if I was there to see the course map (that I may have actually run 100 times or more). I said I was fine, I’ll just follow someone today – instead of leading for a change. Not!

On the course there was a guy just in front of us not dodging the overhanging branches of trees. It was something to behold, and something to avoid as the branches flung back. He had what looked like a hydration vest. I joked that it wasn’t for hydration, it contained a machete he’d start using as he goes more bush.

Then as I finished and was handed my place token, the volunteer mentioned he saved Number 0001 for me (to record me as the winner, instead of 31st out of 353). Ha!

It kind of reminded of the time I was volunteering as a barcode scanner and the guy who did finish first forgot his own barcode to record his result. I helpfully told him I have my own barcode he could use. The guy was a visitor to our Parkrun and didn’t initially know it was just a joke.

When the kids’ sporting seasons commence, Saturday games kick in and I often can’t make it to Parkrun. I will whenever I can though, as I know there will always be some fun moments. Maybe ones I’d like to record here and read again one day.

Surf Coast Trail Marathon 2022

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In terms of number of marathons I’ve run, this was to be my “Unlucky for some” race. So I left nothing to chance. I completed a pretty diligent 16 weeks of training, running 705.4kms in total.

An added bonus was most of my training was on the Surf Coast Trail Marathon course, known as the “Surf Coast Walk”. The SCTM sets off from Salty Dog Café (Bella and my local beach walk turnaround point), and finishes at the Fairhaven Surf Life Saving Club. And it’s a simple route, as the Race Director announced. If you’re up to your waist in water you’ve gone too far left. If you’ve crossed Great Ocean Road, you’ve gone too far right.

Most of my final packing and prep has become quite standard over the years, and went to plan, except .. The night before, I wisely left out the Vaseline to apply in the morning to prevent any chafing during the race. Except, it was NOT Vaseline I was applying. Quite the opposite. I could tell from the strong Eucalyptus aroma I was mistakenly giving my tender areas a generous Vix Vaporub! Instead of the cool relief of a moisturising balm, I felt the warm inner glow of a sexually-transmitted disease. It washed off OK. Good thing our Deep Heat isn’t in a similar shaped tub.

Rather than walk the 2kms from home to the start, and organise a ride back from the finish 42.2kms West, I decided to leave my car at the finish & use their shuttle bus back to the race start. It seemed logical, but certainly felt odd to drive the entire distance of a race before shuttle bussing all the way back, only to then run the full distance under my own steam.

At the start line, there were maybe just 200 runners, which was nice and intimate. There seemed to be no sudden influx of runners despite US politician, John Kennedy’s suggestion that gas prices are currently so high that people would find it cheaper to “buy cocaine and just run everywhere.”

The temperature at the start time of 8:30am was much warmer than my training runs which were usually an hour or two earlier in the day. As we set off, I was shocked to see the group in front of me were all vaping. Were they all sharing the same e-cigarette, or did they each have their own cause it looked like they were puffing in unison? As I got closer I realised it was just the steam from their breath. So maybe it was colder than I realised.

I felt reasonably OK throughout most of the distance. There are always moments though when you need to find something to encourage you to keep up the pace, or just keep going. At one of these points I found some extra motivation, hearing quite close behind me a guy coughing and spluttering. I had no choice but to pick up the pace and outrun any potential COVID germs.

At the 39km mark I saw a runner crouching down next to a marshal at the Airey’s lighthouse. He was clearly struggling and looked unable to continue. As I was about to pass him he joked “I’ll give you $50 if you give me a piggyback.” I laughed and apologised, “Not today” (which sounded a bit more suggestive than I hoped). As I painfully shuffled by him, I realised I’d knock him back even if he was offering $50,000.

It was no surprise, the final four kilometres were the toughest. I’ve learned from trail runners it’s fine to walk up hills, guilt free. When my legs were starting to run out of juice, everything started to look hill-like. I tried keeping a little bit of movement ready for the infamous finish line which is halfway up the surf club stairs from the beach. But it proved unnecessary. The high tide had washed away the sand and left the bottom step dangling infeasibly a metre or so above the shoreline. Coming up the alternative final climb of the subway suited me fine. I crossed the line with much relief at 4hr 25mins. This was five minutes under my target time; and 15 seconds per km quicker than my Surf Coast Century relay leg late last year. The SCC Leg 3 was a beast with the same elevation, but SCTM is over twice the distance. So today felt like a good result.

I made use of the surf club’s gloriously warm showers, then after a beer enjoyed cheering on the others still finishing.

All I then had to do was make the journey between Fairhaven and Torquay a fourth and final time. Which at least had an enjoyable pit stop at event sponsor Aireys Pub with some of the Surf Coast Trail Runners. I enjoyed a rewarding free beer (the tastiest of all beers).

Following is the Relive video of my Strava journey on the day, with some photos along the way.

My Melbourne Marathon, 2019

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Repatriating to Australia at the end of 2018, and into a new state for us in Victoria, it opened up a wonderful opportunity to run new marathons. I set my sights first on my capital city’s major road race, the Nike Melbourne Marathon. (For anyone counting, this would be number 11)

This race had been on my mind many years earlier. Even since I completed the Gold Coast City marathon probably. For fellow Queenslanders, the decision of which marathon outside of Queensland to run usually comes down to their preference to finish at The Sydney Opera House or finish on the hallowed turf of the MCG. I love my sport which, combined with my illogical opposition to all things from NSW, meant Melbourne was always going to be the clear winner.

Once I had finished running it, (in a slightly off target 4hr 03 minutes) I wanted to capture some of the amazing moments from the event, and I thought a Tweetstorm was the simplest (and therefore best) format for that. Now I have found that WordPress has an Unroll feature for Twitter embeds. So here following, are the 12 tweets from my 2019 Melbourne Marathon experience.

Sunday’s #MelbMara was amazing. A thread might be simpler than a blog to capture a few fun tidbits. (1/12)

Before the race I walked more than I wanted looking for the marathon bag drop. My Apple Watch informed me I’d completed my exercise goal before reaching the start line. ?

Loved an early spectator sign in the first few kms saying “You’re nearly there … (just kidding)” ?

Saw a spectator with a “Go Random Stranger” sign popping up all over the course. Runners beside me yelled “Thank you random cheerleader”. ? Later I noticed the sign flipped to show “Go Dan” on the other side when needed.

Another spectator sign I enjoyed, “It’s an awful lot of effort for a free banana.” ? (I might be mistaken, but I recollect there being only half bananas after the finish. Yet on the course they were whole. The opposite would have been better?)

.@EliudKipchoge running the first sub 2 hr marathon the day before was quite a talking point.

At one point on the course our group hit a complete standstill, where I said we’d now not break the world record. My neighbour concurred, since we had no laser guidance from a pace car (we were on 4:30 pace). ?

I saw more spectators around the course randomly handing out lollies than I have at any marathon. I asked one runner if his Mum knows he’s taking candy from strangers. After a pause, he said “At least he was wearing a glove.” ?

Around 30km mark I stopped noticing funny things, as my focus shifted to the pain of running 42.2kms.

I had anticipated a jubilant lap of the MCG before the finish line, maybe even getting out my phone to film the milestone moment. Wrong on two fronts.

1. My legs were excruciating and I could think of nothing beyond moving forward; and
2. My phone had been unlocking and entering wrong passwords in my flip belt. So it was disabled for a further hour. (At least on the drive home my marathon pace sped up quite a bit!?)

The end. For now.

I just remembered on the course I saw an Avenger running , but couldn’t keep up with him.

“Which one was it?”
“That’s not important.”
“It was Hulk wasn’t it.”
“But I did beat Spider-Man!”

Originally tweeted by Ryan B (@rbrink77) on 14 October, 2019.

Far more than running 10 marathons

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I’ve always run.  When I was young, my Mum and I used to do laps of the local rugby league field – dropping pebbles to count our laps.

Through high school and university I ran a few times each week to keep fit.

I continued even in the workforce. And this is when my running got more serious.

A colleague had his first kid around the same time as I did.  We already had a lot in common, and going through the same life changes, seemed to form a stronger connection.  Sadly he was diagnosed with terminal cancer, and  passed away two years later in November 2006.

Within a few weeks of his passing, I felt an urge to not take my good health for granted. So I decided to run a full marathon.
My logic was, since people less fortunate than me are unable to do this, it’s a waste if I do not.

I decided to prepare for Australia’s premier event, the 2007 Gold Coast Marathon (#1).  And at the tender age of 30, I went on to complete the marathon in 3:38:28.

As I painfully crossed the finish line, the feeling was glorious.
My finish time was closer to my “B” goal time. So on top of the feeling of achievement, there was already a sick desire to run this distance again.

My next marathon – as a result of expatriating with more travel options, was (#2) Berlin Marathon in 2009 – one of the famed “Big 5”.
I finished that one in 3:57:00.

Again, my finish time didn’t feel like a true reflection of what I was capable of.  So I felt the need to run again.

Next was the 2011 Dubai Marathon (#3). With some speed training, I set my personal best time of 3:23:32.

My (#4) Dubai Marathon 2012, 3:47:00 didn’t seem particularly special, until I did a presentation at work about running marathons and got a standing ovation.

I happened to be home in Brisbane on holidays in July, which coincided for (#5) Brisbane Marathon 2013, there I ran 4:15:00.

Occasionally life events got in the way of me running every year.  But I always seem to return to 42.2kms.  And I feel great for it.

Another Dubai Marathon 2015 (#6), 4:18:02 – very unprepared, and faced the consequences.

Yet another Dubai Marathon 2016 (#7), 3:45:23 – after getting back in shape to smash the former year’s performance.

Then I was on holidays COINCIDENTALLY back at Australia’s Gold Coast during the marathon weekend.  So I really had no choice but to run the (#8) Gold Coast Marathon 2016, 4:36:11

Then at the start of this year, I ran the hot (#9) Dubai Marathon 2017, 3:49:56

And then the “milestone” of running a 10th was on the horizon.  It lined up nicely with being the 10th year since my first.  And more emotionally, it coincided with me having just turned 40 years old.  This is the same age that my friend was, when he passed away 10 years earlier. It made me think even more how lucky I am.
This became no ordinary marathon to run.

The plan was to combine a family holiday in Jordan with the Amman marathon.  However, after returning from holidays home, the timing didn’t work.  So it made more sense to do the Beirut Marathon.  It has its own TED Talk by inspirational founder, May El-Khalil, which you must see.  The Australian Government’s travel warning to Lebanon is to reconsider your need to go. It made us feel more comfortable for my family to stay in Dubai.

On the flight I checked my iPad if I had any movies.  I wasn’t hopeful, as I usually free up space after watching anything.  However, there was still one movie there, the inspiring documentary I’ve watched many times, Spirit of the Marathon.  Quite a motivating and reflecting thing to watch, as I was landing in the Lebanese Republic.

My hotel room was placed perfectly between the start and finish lines.  A short walk before the race, a not-so-long shuffle on the way home. (The hotel made me feel at home with RAK coffee cups.)

I picked up my race pack on Friday when I arrived, part of a 12km walk to explore the city of Beirut.

Lebanon’s capital, Beirut, is renowned in the region for its glamour – once known as the Paris of the Middle East. Even at the Marathon Village this was pretty obvious with a Nail Couture and polish stand,

I vowed to walk far less on the day before the race. It was kind of a success, I only covered 10kms sight-seeing.

The long violent story of Beirut is one marathon effort to read.  The country was torn apart through civil wars.  The Holiday Inn Hotel is still on display after visibly fierce attacks between factions. I wondered if it was from 2005, when Prime Minister Rafic Hariri was assassinated near that location. Nope, the hotel has been standing like that since 1975.

The flight path into Lebanon itself shows the predicament the country has. With hotspots in Syria to the East, and Palestine and Israel to the South, we flew far from a direct route from Dubai.
Some uncertainty returned to Lebanon while I was there, with the shock resignation of current Lebanese Prime Minister Saad Hariri (the son of Rafic).
To all Lebanese I know, Saad is an inspiration – even a regular runner of the marathon. That weekend the city began erecting signs seeking his return, from sudden exile in Saudi Arabia. The newspaper headlines were concerning.  The huge number of heavily armed police officers and army personnel, were reassuring.

Sunday was race day, for the many different events.  They even hosted a 1 kilometer run which went brilliantly from the marathon start line to the marathon’s finish, IN A STRAIGHT LINE – cutting out the superfluous 41.1 kms.

I mentioned in an earlier marathon blog that I find it pretty emotional at the starting line, among all these amazing people ready to push their body to the absolute limit. There in Beirut, away from my family, participating in my 10th, with all these lovely Lebanese people (incl. May El-Khalil) cheering me on, I was a blubbering mess for almost the first 3kms.

I settled into a rhythm, and spotted a lady running in an Australia singlet.  Morag and I then covered a few kilometers together, while chatting away like Aussie neighbours. Then I bid her farewell, to speed up a little (and hope I wouldn’t regret this pace and see that Australia singlet pass me later on).

The support across the course was fantastic. It’s usually slightly demoralising to go out, and come back to the same start line. The Beirut race day though was arranged so as we returned from the first section, the half marathoners had just started.  It was a spectacular sight to see a seemingly endless sea of runners freshly embarking on their own race. There were high fives, and lots of cheering between the full and half crowds.

All along the course, there were clusters of supportive people cheering for everyone to succeed. There were school groups, tiny white-haired ladies in their nighties hanging out of apartments yelling out “Yalla”, and every 100 metres someone from the Red Crescent.

I thoroughly enjoyed the city, and being part of the event.

I did a more complete running autopsy, on the runplan blog, for anyone that’s interested (http://blog.runplan.training/2017/11/17/still-learning-10-marathons-in-10-years/).

For the purposes of this post, it’s enough to say the run was tough-going. The hills took their toll, and perhaps in the lovely cool breezy weather I should have run slower than my body thought was fine.  The final 5 kms were brutal.  Even the sign saying 800 metres remaining was little relief to my cramping legs.  I just kept moving forward, as I have each time.

Crossing the line was an unfathomable relief.  Volunteers gave out aluminium sheets for people to keep warm, which wasn’t my problem.  However, I’ve never dressed as a baked potato like the New York Marathon finishers, so I wore it proudly.

I finished my (#10) Beirut Marathon 2017, 4:09:14.

I limped to the stadium seating and cheered on the other runners finishing.  I didn’t need to know them. I just knew something of what they had been through.  And I appreciate them.

The next day I wore my medal for all to see (#MedalMonday). Driving into the airport the taxi passed a checkpoint with big army guys carrying big guns. One of the officers looked into the backseat and stared in at me.  I immediately froze, worrying if I needed to show my passport or flight details, then he just pointed at my medal and gave me a hearty thumbs up. 🙂

I’ve been on such a journey since running that first marathon in 2007.

10 years on, it’s every bit as special.

And it’s nice to appreciate what has got me here.

Another RAK half marathon – 2017

Reading Time: 3 minutesYesterday the RAK half marathon impressively lived up to being the world’s fastest half marathon. Peres Jepchirchir of Kenya set a new world record for the women’s half marathon, in 65:06. I heard she was hunched over after the finish looking like she was about to vomit. No history books will mention that.

The weather conditions were absolutely perfect for running. Even before the race the announcer said there are no excuses for not running a personal best time today. I objected to the people around me, “This guy clearly doesn’t know me!”

I started the day with a thought that 1:40 would be a decent finish time, given the training I’ve done. In the end, I finished in a fair 1:39:59 .. And this time was with one toilet stop. If it wasn’t for that huge wee, I may have also finished the run in around 1hr and 5 minutes.

Soon after the start I was alongside one of Dubai Creek Striders’s most charismatic characters, and wellness gurus.  A lot of his recent social media posts have been relating the ill-effects of sugar on us. I facetiously told him to “Leave my sugar alone” .. then nervously overtook him – with an immediate worry that he’s probably right, and my diet will be my demise in this race and he and the rest of the group would overtake me with much cheer.

A single glimpse of something can lead me to think about it for huge stretches of time. Along the way I passed a guy wearing an Iron Man body suit. I pondered, at what point in a race would I deploy the jets. I don’t know how many kilometres I had completed at that point, but I was pretty sure I’d put on the jets right there and then.

That was a more enjoyable thought than when I passed a shirt slogan, “There is no finish line”.  I know their marketing folks are inspiring an ongoing lifestyle, and promoting a continuing journey of fitness. I know that now. At the time, I just muttered “Bugger”.

One distance milestone I do remember was passing the 12km marker. I remember this because the lady next to me said out loud “Single figures”. She didn’t seem to be running with anybody else. So maybe she was talking to us. I thought about it, then thought about it some more. It could have been 5 seconds later I figured it out, and apologetically verified back to her “Ah, [single figures] kilometres remaining!”

I wore the race shirt they provided us. Lots do. Why not, it’s the newest in my wardrobe. At one point I noticed a guy to my right was wearing not only the shirt, but also the same Nike “look-at-me” running shorts I had. He may have seen me looking him up and down, so I shared that we could be twins. He thankfully laughed. Then we both decided to split up before the camera people just ahead could take a cute picture of us together.

It was funny to hear Kat, the default voice of the Runkeeper app, coming from someone else’s smart phone. The guy was getting a comprehensive update on his time, distance, average pace, and I was curious if bladder levels would one day become part of the story. I told the guy I thought the Runkeeper lady only talked to me. But he was quick to explain. That app is important company he has during his away-time running.  It gets him through the many times he’s in the bad books for being anti-social, having to go to bed early & run in the mornings. Then he put up his hands and shrugged, “What else can we do when we love such a crazy pastime as running?” I agreed and wished him a lovely run.

In the final 4-5kms I maintained a pace between slouching off and feeling like I was about to vomit. After giving High 5s to my family (who was leaning inappropriately out over the fence) with 200 metres remaining, I sprinted to cross the finish line – with one second to spare.

I look forward to doing it again next year.

2017 Dubai Marathon

Reading Time: 4 minutesYesterday morning I lined up to participate (not compete) in yet another Dubai Marathon ..

This year’s event had extra interest with a confident Kenenisa Bekele declaring he was going to break the world record.  On top of the glory of owning the world record, there was a nice $250,000 reward on offer for bettering the mark of 2:02.57 ..

Bekele’s campaign had the strong support of Nike and the Sub 2hr project sport scientists.  Unfortunately it didn’t help, as he sadly tripped at the start line.  It made the near impossible task, simply impossible.

Before my start, after the obligatory toilet stop and obligatory follow-up toilet stop, I made the long distance back towards the start. There I passed a massive queue of people. I thought to myself it’s a relief to have gone to the other toilet block, as there was no waiting. I soon learned this throng of people wasn’t for the toilets. It was the queue for the bag drop, which I needed. It’s the first time I’ve seen such a massive delay to literally “drop” something.

What terrible organisation to put the bag drop so close to the start/finish area and have it single-file the whole way.

It wasn’t until after the race when I went through the recovery area, picking up drinks and a banana, that I noticed how convenient it was to have the bag collection right there as we exited. What wonderful organisation.

This was to be my ninth full 42.195km marathon event. Experience adds some comfort to know that you can complete it.  On the other hand it provides no comfort from the pain.

This year I had no real goal time.  Beating last year’s time would be nice, returning to near 3:30 form would be superb. Realistically I just wanted to finish in relatively good shape, and avoid grinding to a halt.

Along the way, I was entertained as always.

In the first 10 kilometres I saw a guy running in a Spartans shirt. He was relaxed and running quite conservatively. I imagined he was saving his energy to slay a few dozen Persian warriors at the finish line.

Another shirt that grabbed my attention was “fast food” brand McDonalds. I felt it pretty important to pass that one.

It was then quite a milestone to run past Superman at the 16km mark. He was a big hit with the many kids cheering along the side of the course.

To gain my own super advantage I resisted the urge to try some of the Sub 2 hour juice,

Instead I took some gu gels for energy. The gu were in each of my shorts pockets, and when I tried to get one out another dropped onto the ground. Bugger. Do I stop to pick it up, or forget about it? As I looked down, the packet magically slid along the road back in front of me. A runner behind me had kindly, and quite skillfully, kicked it back to me while in mid stride. Despite his efforts, I decided the energy to slow and pick it up would outweigh the benefits the gu would give.  So I just kept on running.

The weather was quite warm – the hottest Dubai Marathon yet according to some runners. I clearly remember feeling thirsty throughout the run. I drank from every water spot, multiple drinks at some. I even started availing the unofficial stations, like those of the Dubai Creek Striders, the Desert Road Runners, and Abras squads; as well as a random congregation of Chinese people – though I avoided their interesting offering for marathon runners, salty potato crisps.

Despite drinking as much water as I could, and using it to keep my body cool, I did struggle in the last stages. My pace dropped, thankfully it was a much later inevitability than last year.

I’d like to say my smile got bigger with each kilometre marker. Perhaps my grimace got no worse.

At 40kms, a helpful Arab encouraged me by telling me there were two kms to go.  “Hurry up and in three minutes you’ll be finished – yalla!”

The finish line, like all finish lines, was a blessing.  I didn’t track the run very accurately on my apple watch with some mistaken pauses. So I really had little clue about what time I’d see as I approached the line.  It was 3:51, which was a 3:49.58 net finish. Five minutes slower than last year which I can live with – and still thankfully under the four hour mark.

After I collected my stuff, I enjoyed the adidas rest area.  Some other runners enjoyed it a whole lot more.  A couple of ladies, looking fresh as daisies after their marathons, easily spent 30 minutes getting hilariously flamboyant photos next to the merchandise and posters. Then they’d get them taken again, from more and more angles.

I found watching it almost as tiring as running the final 5kms.

Before the race I took two Ibuprofen to help avoid some ongoing niggles in my hip & knee. I like to think of it as a proactive measure. Nope. Seeing other marathoners limping so painfully, the Ibuprofen was clearly cheating.  Cheating which I will do again.

All the marathon podium places went to Ethiopians:

It’s always a highlight to see how well the Ethiopians perform, and to see the passion of their supporters in the crowd.  They all look so beautifully happy, wearing their distinctive colours, singing for their champions.

This completed my ninth marathon in 10 years.  It would be quite neat to complete another one this year ..

First I must let my new shoes get broken in a little more, and let my blistered feet heal:

Yet another Striders half – 09 Dec 2016

Reading Time: 4 minutesYesterday I ran my seventh straight Johnson Arabia Dubai Creek Striders Half Marathon.

It’s clearly a race I don’t want to miss.

Every year the event gets bigger and better.

As I began running with the large community of Dubai runners I wondered, what colour would you need to wear these days to stand out?
Fluororescent colours have returned to fashion.  And there were running kits of every other colour and shade. I noticed even past running shirts from obscure events are rarely alone. It was interesting to see us running as a full palate of running regalia.

This year I wasn’t aiming for a quick time, preferring to run conservatively as a training session for next month’s full marathon.  In fact, I was quite nervous about what pace I should stick to.  Each time I decided to pass somebody, it was only after  I had quite an internal debate. On one occasion I wondered if I could pass the guy in front, then I looked up and was surprised to read on his shirt “Unlikely”. Was it an omen?  It turned out the shirt is from the Unlikely Runners group. I love that honesty in marketing.

A little later I caught up with the pace runners for people aiming to finish in less than 1:45. I checked in with the leader whom I knew.  I had to ask, if I ran ahead and they later catch up to me, are they then required to carry me? Nope. They were quite clear, they’d kick me up the butt.

With that motivation, I gradually ran off (with a slight worry).

I realised also, countries and nationalities become irrelevant during running events. At a running event there are merely runners, and supporters. For anybody running, I sympathise with their effort, and have a deep, specific respect for them. And for anyone there that isn’t running, they’re supporting and I appreciate them fully.

Addendum: Scrap the thought that nations become irrelevant. It turns out, I was the 1st Australian to finish for my age category. I left a massive contingent of 8 people in my dust. HA!

Once again I chose to listen to music while running.  And again, I had an issue. Selecting my “Run Calm” playlist from my running tracker, only played the songs I had locally-stored on my phone. What happened to the huge & brilliant selection I have curated in the cloud?

When you’re listening to music during an activity, it has less than your full concentration.  SO I guess it took a few run-throughs for me to notice my phone was playing only four different songs.

My four locally-saved songs from a complete playlist
Exhibit A: My playlist

I tried talking reasonably with Siri to skip and change play lists, but that just freaked out the people running alongside me.

I decided to continue through it. For some reason, repeating music seemed better than none.
In fact, bopping along a few times to a song like Even Flow by Pearl Jam seemed quite helpful. When I couldn’t quite understand the lyric
“Moths are all like butterflies,
He don’t know, so he chases them away”
it seemed helpful that I could listen more intently to it in a few minutes.
I later researched the lyrics, They’re actually,

Even flow, thoughts arrive like butterflies,
He don't know, so he chases them away

How many more kilometres of this song looping would I need to run to get those lyrics?

As a song finished, I was able to hear a clicking sound at a regular tempo, though not quite in sync with my running steps. I immediately figured it was one of those people with a sophisticated watch beeping far too often at a regular pace to help the runner keep their steps or heart beats in time. These are so annoying to everybody else around. I look over to the person running beside me and roll my eyes – communicating, “Oh dear, we’ve got one of them with us”. But then as the volume of my next song increased, the sound of the clicking reduced.  Oops. The sound was always there and it was quite clearly the noise from my headphone cable hitting my race number bib.

As I was getting into the final quarter of the race, I considered upping the tempo to finish strong.

I used to have an extra gear to finish fast and overtake pretty much anyone in the vicinity. Now I feel more like a taxi driver asking for directions.

I finished more steadily in 1:41.14, which was two minutes slower than the same race last year. In the scheme of things, that’s quite reasonable.

The next stage of the event was the Breakfast Buffet.  Here I feel I may have had a personal best.

There’s nothing quite like the feeling of accomplishment after a 21.1km race; then replacing double the calories that were burned.

The only complaint with breakfast was that at our table I was sitting with an impressively overflowing plate of bacon and pork sausages, while a humorless Dutch couple sat next to us to share a tiny box of cornflakes & milk. I think they should be banned next year from participating.

The prize-giving went through with very few surprises.  The regular male open winner was from Uganda,  and the women’s open winner from Finland is becoming a regular. I wonder if I was the only person who was imaging what would happen if these running freaks from two different continents had babies together.

Again, it was a hugely enjoyable event to kick off the start of the running season. I look forward to next year.