Solemates Century Day
Like many men of my generation, I have had a go at one or two Century Challenges when I was a lot younger- if not more foolish- and the results weren’t very pretty. So I was relieved to hear Solemates Century Day would not be featuring shot glasses.
This Century Challenge was literally to run up to 100 kilometres in a day, in order for most participants to run further than they have run before, and for those who run further to enjoy a social 100k run.
I know some readers are thinking this sounds worse than the one involving shot glasses but it was actually a lot of fun.
This Century Challenge was literally to run up to 100 kilometres in a day, in order for most participants to run further than they have run before, and for those who run further to enjoy a social 100k run.
I know some readers are thinking this sounds worse than the one involving shot glasses but it was actually a lot of fun.
We met at the Cenotaph at 6AM. Well everyone else obviously met there earlier, as I when I rocked up at 6, everyone was already waiting for me and it was time to go. It was also cold too. I had been waiting for a sudden cold snap with the same apprehensive certainty as Ned Stark, but I’d dared to hope it would hold off a few more days. But hope is not a causative factor and my hope for good weather was as forlorn as Malcolm Turnbull’s hopes that Tony Abbott was going to keep his promise not to undermine the government.
Compared to my frosty demeanour (see what I did there), everyone else seemed in good spirits and Dalts had predictably started the banter already. We were incredibly lucky to have the amazing Jacqui driving a support vehicle and looking after us for the day. I gratefully threw a huge bag full of anything I could possibly need for the run into the tray of her ute and then lined up for a quick photo with the rest of the runners before we started.
Compared to my frosty demeanour (see what I did there), everyone else seemed in good spirits and Dalts had predictably started the banter already. We were incredibly lucky to have the amazing Jacqui driving a support vehicle and looking after us for the day. I gratefully threw a huge bag full of anything I could possibly need for the run into the tray of her ute and then lined up for a quick photo with the rest of the runners before we started.
We set off at an easy pace, shuffling along the bike track in the pre-dawn darkness with the brightly lit Tasman Bridge looming ahead of us. We had a great group of runners to spend the day with too. I have run quite a lot with Ben M, Dalts, Lewinski and Ben Hirst from Run for Mental Health, but we also had a number of runners I hadn’t run with as much, including Sam, Mick, Katharine, Casey, Mark and Grubby. We were also lucky to have Michael riding along on his posty keeping a protective eye on us, like a Coalition government watching over the coal industry.
It was a really cold start (did I mention that) so aside from gloves, beanie and full length skins, I elected to leave my hoodie on until I warmed up a bit. This happened sooner than I expected as we were only 500m along the track before I remembered I’d forgotten something and had to sprint back to the start and then try to catch up again.
Even running like I was being pursued by Borderforce’s unregulated deportation squads, I didn’t see the rest of the group again until Montagu Bay Primary and I was relieved to catch them. The foreshore path was pretty dark in places, with the low arching foliage blocking out most ambient light, so it was a relief to catch the rest of the group and make use of the illumination provided by those with headtorches. I’m not trying to deify Sam here, but he literally was my light in the darkness for a time.
The track curved its way around a number of tiny coves in the foreshore as the sky above gradually lightened. By the time we were approaching Rosny College, visibility was pretty good. Jacqui was waiting for us near the yacht club and it was at this point that we realised just how awesome Michael and Jacqui were going to be on this run. Michael’s bike was loaded up with chocolates, lollies and water, whilst whenever we reached the ute, Jacqui had a vast array of different food and drink ready for us including fruit, potatoes, chocolate, lollies and biscuits.
While I was pretty excited to see all of this, it was still before 7am and I had already eaten a large breakfast before starting, so I just grabbed a banana and a drink of water. I also happily discarded my hoodie and immediately complained about the cold as we began running again. We continued to follow the coastline, passing Bellerive Quay and making our way around the Kangaroo Bluff. The day was dawning in full colour by now and the view across the water in early morning light was pretty impressive. We continued into Howrah and elected not to run along the beach, instead following the jogging track past Wentworth Park, where I play touch footy.
It was a really cold start (did I mention that) so aside from gloves, beanie and full length skins, I elected to leave my hoodie on until I warmed up a bit. This happened sooner than I expected as we were only 500m along the track before I remembered I’d forgotten something and had to sprint back to the start and then try to catch up again.
Even running like I was being pursued by Borderforce’s unregulated deportation squads, I didn’t see the rest of the group again until Montagu Bay Primary and I was relieved to catch them. The foreshore path was pretty dark in places, with the low arching foliage blocking out most ambient light, so it was a relief to catch the rest of the group and make use of the illumination provided by those with headtorches. I’m not trying to deify Sam here, but he literally was my light in the darkness for a time.
The track curved its way around a number of tiny coves in the foreshore as the sky above gradually lightened. By the time we were approaching Rosny College, visibility was pretty good. Jacqui was waiting for us near the yacht club and it was at this point that we realised just how awesome Michael and Jacqui were going to be on this run. Michael’s bike was loaded up with chocolates, lollies and water, whilst whenever we reached the ute, Jacqui had a vast array of different food and drink ready for us including fruit, potatoes, chocolate, lollies and biscuits.
While I was pretty excited to see all of this, it was still before 7am and I had already eaten a large breakfast before starting, so I just grabbed a banana and a drink of water. I also happily discarded my hoodie and immediately complained about the cold as we began running again. We continued to follow the coastline, passing Bellerive Quay and making our way around the Kangaroo Bluff. The day was dawning in full colour by now and the view across the water in early morning light was pretty impressive. We continued into Howrah and elected not to run along the beach, instead following the jogging track past Wentworth Park, where I play touch footy.
Jacqui was waiting again near the Shoreline Service Station, so we grabbed another drink and a few lollies, before we headed up and over the hill into Rokeby. The sun was finally coming out by now, but if anything it seemed to have got colder and I was actually still wearing most of my warm clothes. I made the decision to start taking on more food when we stopped in Rokeby and wolfed down a couple of boiled potatoes and some rice crisps, much to the disgust of Dalts, who is more of a believer in the importance of coke and chocolate. We were also treated to a surprise guest appearance by Slim Sal Shadey, who dropped past to give us some encouragement on her way to the gym.
We set off once more and began climbing the highway above the Police Academy, heading for Lauderdale. From here, the outlook over the water is absolutely magnificent I have to admit, but the road itself has shoulders narrower than a ‘90s fashion model so I wasn’t loving being that close to the passing traffic.
I had been talking so much in the early part of the run, that I really hadn’t thought too much about how well my body was holding up, but around this point I began taking stock of how I was feeling. It was still pretty early in the run, but for the most part, things were pretty good. The joints were moving pretty freely and my main muscle groups felt strong and loose. My only concern was my feet, where I could feel some blistering and sore points developing around my toes.
We turned left at Lauderdale and followed the road towards Acton. There was little footpath to speak of, but a rough track contoured the edge of road quite closely until we hit the road that turned right and over a small rise into Seven Mile Beach. Lewinski’s bladder holds less than Peter Dutton’s heart, so we stopped again at Seven Mile to use the toilets. While this was going on, I dashed off ahead to find Jacqui so I could get my bag out and see if I could work out the best thing to do about my feet. I got my shoes off and had a nervous look at my toes. There was a bit of blood but it wasn’t too bad so I cleaned it up as best I could and threw a few bandaids on. I also had spare pairs of shoes and socks but decided to hold them in reserve for the second half of the day.
I had been talking so much in the early part of the run, that I really hadn’t thought too much about how well my body was holding up, but around this point I began taking stock of how I was feeling. It was still pretty early in the run, but for the most part, things were pretty good. The joints were moving pretty freely and my main muscle groups felt strong and loose. My only concern was my feet, where I could feel some blistering and sore points developing around my toes.
We turned left at Lauderdale and followed the road towards Acton. There was little footpath to speak of, but a rough track contoured the edge of road quite closely until we hit the road that turned right and over a small rise into Seven Mile Beach. Lewinski’s bladder holds less than Peter Dutton’s heart, so we stopped again at Seven Mile to use the toilets. While this was going on, I dashed off ahead to find Jacqui so I could get my bag out and see if I could work out the best thing to do about my feet. I got my shoes off and had a nervous look at my toes. There was a bit of blood but it wasn’t too bad so I cleaned it up as best I could and threw a few bandaids on. I also had spare pairs of shoes and socks but decided to hold them in reserve for the second half of the day.
I re-joined the other runners, just as Grubby was coming to the end of his. At nearly 30km, he had exceeded his previous longest run by nearly ten kilometres (and unlike Tony Abbott) he could see when his time was up. He was still smiling as he jumped in Jacqui’s car and gave me a high 5, while the rest of us continued running, looping around the airport and heading back along the edge of the Tasman Highway.
We were soon able to get off the noisy highway and follow the road behind Cambridge Park. It wasn’t much quieter, as Dalts was still talking non-stop, but at least there were much less cars and trucks going past. Cambridge Park became Cambridge proper as we continued back towards town and (much like the Australian Greens) the group began to fragment into smaller groups as the gradual rise back towards the highway hit a few of us pretty hard.
We were soon able to get off the noisy highway and follow the road behind Cambridge Park. It wasn’t much quieter, as Dalts was still talking non-stop, but at least there were much less cars and trucks going past. Cambridge Park became Cambridge proper as we continued back towards town and (much like the Australian Greens) the group began to fragment into smaller groups as the gradual rise back towards the highway hit a few of us pretty hard.
Jacqui set up a final food and drinks station for the morning at the underpass near Mt Rumney, so we made sure to take on plenty of fluid and energy for the run back to town. Then we were off again, pushing uphill along the edge of the highway in the kind of narrow single file that reminded me of any number of soccer trainings and PT sessions (I kept feeling like the back person should be running to the front).
We were nearing the top of the hill when we met another runner coming the other way. He was wearing a Solemates top, but I didn’t recognise him (not in itself remarkable considering there are over 1000 Solemates) and he was introduced to me as ‘Burgo.’ While evidently not the former host of Wheel of Fortune, Burgo turned out to be a very personable dude nonetheless and I ended up chatting to him for some time over the next few kilometres. I pretty much passed Warrane without noticing (which is not a bad way of doing it to be honest) and we were soon crossing the overpass near Rose Bay High, where we waved goodbye to Mark as he headed off towards his home.
We were nearing the top of the hill when we met another runner coming the other way. He was wearing a Solemates top, but I didn’t recognise him (not in itself remarkable considering there are over 1000 Solemates) and he was introduced to me as ‘Burgo.’ While evidently not the former host of Wheel of Fortune, Burgo turned out to be a very personable dude nonetheless and I ended up chatting to him for some time over the next few kilometres. I pretty much passed Warrane without noticing (which is not a bad way of doing it to be honest) and we were soon crossing the overpass near Rose Bay High, where we waved goodbye to Mark as he headed off towards his home.
By now it was late morning and despite the sunshine was still pretty cold. Certainly as we headed back towards Hobart, the snowy upper reaches of Mt Wellington bore witness that it was definitely colder than previous weeks. After 48km, a few of us were really feeling it as we made our way back across the Tasman Bridge. We dug deep and made a steady pace up and over the bridge, before getting onto the bike track picking up speed slightly in the run in to the finish.
The end of loop 1 was a pretty great moment, as a few of our runners had just completed the longest runs of their lives to date, including Casey who had added nearly ten kilometres to her longest run and Katharine who had doubled her previous best and still looked so fresh she could have been a mixed CD of pop songs (do you guys remember the dark times before iTunes?) Sam had been fighting cramps for much the last couple of hours and had somehow managed to push through as well, but when he could finally stop running, he was more relieved than Bachar Houli coming out of the AFL tribunal.
The end of loop 1 was a pretty great moment, as a few of our runners had just completed the longest runs of their lives to date, including Casey who had added nearly ten kilometres to her longest run and Katharine who had doubled her previous best and still looked so fresh she could have been a mixed CD of pop songs (do you guys remember the dark times before iTunes?) Sam had been fighting cramps for much the last couple of hours and had somehow managed to push through as well, but when he could finally stop running, he was more relieved than Bachar Houli coming out of the AFL tribunal.
There were a lot of high fives, smiles and words of praise, in between hurried eating and drinking for those us planning a second 50km. My race mum wasn’t here to check I was eating properly, so I gratefully got stuck into a few hot pies and donuts that Sharene, the Solemates First Lady, had rocked up with. I took a moment to consider whether I was okay to for another 50km as it certainly felt like a long way. My feet weren’t getting much worse, but they were still pretty uncomfortable, while the rest of my body had some definite fatigue. A few years ago, I would have probably taken the safe option and decided 50km was a great effort, but setting out to try to run 100 was probably setting myself up for disappointment. Luckily I don’t think like that anymore. Now that I have learnt to accept the occasional failure as an inevitable consequence of setting appropriate goals, the possibility of having to stop and jump in the car half way held no fear for me, so the decision to go on was pretty easy in the end.
We didn’t want to cool down too much so we were pretty quickly out into loop 2. It was a smaller group this time. Lewinski, Dalts Myself, Ben and Burgo were continuing on, and we had been joined by Penni, who joined us with the enthusiasm that only a fresh runner can bring to a group that has been running for half a day already. We headed back out along the bike track and hit the bridge, almost pulled along by Penni’s energy and music.
We eased our way through Lindisfarne, following the East Derwent Highway. Jacqui set up another food stop just before the hill near Lindisfarne North Primary School, so we paused there for a moment before tackling the hill. Burgo was starting to feel a niggle to a pre-existing condition (lucky he doesn’t live in America so he won’t lose his health insurance though), so decided to turn back to limit the impact on his legs, but the rest of us continued on.
We didn’t want to cool down too much so we were pretty quickly out into loop 2. It was a smaller group this time. Lewinski, Dalts Myself, Ben and Burgo were continuing on, and we had been joined by Penni, who joined us with the enthusiasm that only a fresh runner can bring to a group that has been running for half a day already. We headed back out along the bike track and hit the bridge, almost pulled along by Penni’s energy and music.
We eased our way through Lindisfarne, following the East Derwent Highway. Jacqui set up another food stop just before the hill near Lindisfarne North Primary School, so we paused there for a moment before tackling the hill. Burgo was starting to feel a niggle to a pre-existing condition (lucky he doesn’t live in America so he won’t lose his health insurance though), so decided to turn back to limit the impact on his legs, but the rest of us continued on.
The hill itself wasn’t as bad as I expected, or else I was too busy talking to Penni to really notice it, and we were soon enough on the way down the other side. Chris and Ben made the decision to cut their loop short and cross the Bowen Bridge and head back to the Cenotaph early, so we were soon down to three of us as we crossed under the Bowen Bridge and began the climb up the hill behind Otago Bay.
That is a long hill. I can’t actually tell you what it is like to run it, because we decided as a group to walk it so we didn’t break anyone this far from home. Half way up the hill, a car stopped on the other side of the road and the smiling face of Chuggy (and the rest of his body) jumped out. It is always energising when a new person joins the group, and Chuggy is a very positive and inspiring in his own right, so this give the rest of us quite a lift.
That is a long hill. I can’t actually tell you what it is like to run it, because we decided as a group to walk it so we didn’t break anyone this far from home. Half way up the hill, a car stopped on the other side of the road and the smiling face of Chuggy (and the rest of his body) jumped out. It is always energising when a new person joins the group, and Chuggy is a very positive and inspiring in his own right, so this give the rest of us quite a lift.
We stopped to catch up with Jacqui and Michael again just before Old Beach and took on some more fuel before pushing on again. The road through Old Beach was fairly uneventful. There is a simple white bicycle sculpture on the side of the road in mute tribute to another senseless road fatality. This saddened me for a moment and then reminded me of just how angry I get about people who drive dangerously on our roads.
Michael waved good bye just before the Jordan River and we called out our sincere thanks for his amazing support for the previous nine hours. Then we were jogging over the Jordan River Bridge which would be quite lovely if not for all the rusting shopping trolleys directly below. We made our way up the hill on the other side, where we also farewelled Chuggy. The team was shrinking quicker than the polar icecaps and Penni was starting to struggle now. She set herself to get to McDonalds and made that pretty easily before almost axing herself trying to give me a high five as she stepped over a speed bump. Luckily, we managed to stop her falling and no harm was done. Meanwhile Lewinski had gone straight inside to order food- at least he should have. That tiny bladder struck again- but eventually he was back with some hot nutritious food to get us through the last twenty kilometres.
Michael waved good bye just before the Jordan River and we called out our sincere thanks for his amazing support for the previous nine hours. Then we were jogging over the Jordan River Bridge which would be quite lovely if not for all the rusting shopping trolleys directly below. We made our way up the hill on the other side, where we also farewelled Chuggy. The team was shrinking quicker than the polar icecaps and Penni was starting to struggle now. She set herself to get to McDonalds and made that pretty easily before almost axing herself trying to give me a high five as she stepped over a speed bump. Luckily, we managed to stop her falling and no harm was done. Meanwhile Lewinski had gone straight inside to order food- at least he should have. That tiny bladder struck again- but eventually he was back with some hot nutritious food to get us through the last twenty kilometres.
And then there were two. With Penni comfortable in the car yelling the occasional piece of ‘encouragement’ as they drove past us, it was now just Lewinski and I. We were pretty happy to be back on the Western Shore and I was feeling pretty good, but this running bromance had well and truly run out of things to talk about by now. Thankfully more support was not far away. Ryan and Trent appeared almost as soon as we hit Granton, and soon after Brett arrived on his bike as well.
Once again, having new companions really made the next few kilometres a bit easier as Trent, Brett and Ryan kept up a stream of positive conversation and filled us in on the footy results (needless to say my ability to predict a winner was on par with Morrison’s ability to predict a surplus). In little time we reached Ten Mile Hill, which I had been a little worried about. Fortunately, I have not actually run it before and my worries were based on my experiences riding. I realised as we ran up, that it isn’t nearly as steep as I had assumed, and at the speed we were going, it wasn’t particularly unpleasant at all.
After a short stint in the car, Penni was feeling as revitalised as Jeremy Corbyn’s political fortunes, she re-joined us as we made our way through Claremont. Unfortunately, as it started to get darker, her prescription sunglasses became less useful than science text book in the White House and without her normal glasses she was almost blind. Reluctantly she hopped back into the car and waved goodbye.
We continued along the bike track as the sky darkened around us. Ordinarily I like to run and ride the northern end of the bike track, as it brings back pleasant memories of this year’s Cadbury Marathon but by now the light was falling quicker than respect for Tommy Bugg so there was soon little visual reminders of previous runs either.
I was losing a fair bit of power in my legs and my feet were starting to really hurt. I was quite mentally fatigued as well and very thankful Trent and Ryan’s conversation kept my mind off the ongoing struggle. It seemed like we were running through the darkness for a long time between MONA and Glenorchy, but eventually we were approaching Elwick Road. Now any other time I try to cross this road, it is busier than Donald Trump’s press secretaries, but sure enough, there wasn’t a car to be seen so we didn’t have to break stride (much as I really wouldn’t have hated a short pause) as we crossed the road and met up with Mr Thomas, who had run out from the Cenotaph to run us home.
Once again, having new companions really made the next few kilometres a bit easier as Trent, Brett and Ryan kept up a stream of positive conversation and filled us in on the footy results (needless to say my ability to predict a winner was on par with Morrison’s ability to predict a surplus). In little time we reached Ten Mile Hill, which I had been a little worried about. Fortunately, I have not actually run it before and my worries were based on my experiences riding. I realised as we ran up, that it isn’t nearly as steep as I had assumed, and at the speed we were going, it wasn’t particularly unpleasant at all.
After a short stint in the car, Penni was feeling as revitalised as Jeremy Corbyn’s political fortunes, she re-joined us as we made our way through Claremont. Unfortunately, as it started to get darker, her prescription sunglasses became less useful than science text book in the White House and without her normal glasses she was almost blind. Reluctantly she hopped back into the car and waved goodbye.
We continued along the bike track as the sky darkened around us. Ordinarily I like to run and ride the northern end of the bike track, as it brings back pleasant memories of this year’s Cadbury Marathon but by now the light was falling quicker than respect for Tommy Bugg so there was soon little visual reminders of previous runs either.
I was losing a fair bit of power in my legs and my feet were starting to really hurt. I was quite mentally fatigued as well and very thankful Trent and Ryan’s conversation kept my mind off the ongoing struggle. It seemed like we were running through the darkness for a long time between MONA and Glenorchy, but eventually we were approaching Elwick Road. Now any other time I try to cross this road, it is busier than Donald Trump’s press secretaries, but sure enough, there wasn’t a car to be seen so we didn’t have to break stride (much as I really wouldn’t have hated a short pause) as we crossed the road and met up with Mr Thomas, who had run out from the Cenotaph to run us home.
The next few kilometres were a bit easier to manage as I could break them up into short segments between roads that intersected the track. I was sure we would have to pause at one or more of these intersections, but for once every crossing was clear of traffic. We jogged past the Hockey Centre and into Cornelian Bay where Jacqui was waiting to say goodbye. Lewinski and I each gave her a huge hug to say thanks, as there were no words to properly explain how much help she had been.
We met Ben coming back towards us by the rowing sheds and it was good to see he was still running well after 90km himself. I was pretty much on my last legs though. Even with the ongoing banter and Mr Thomas keeping a pretty close eye on me, I could feel myself dropping off a little and just struggling to keep my legs going.
I really didn’t want to remember the end of the run as a struggle so I managed to summon up a final vestige of courage/stubbornness (luckily I’m not short of sources for inspiration) for the last couple of kilometres. “Let’s get this finished,” I said (well that is the censored version anyway), forcing myself into a faster pace and determined to finish the run feeling strong. It was hardly a sprint to the line, but we pushed ourselves hard as we ran under the bridge and headed for the Cenotaph. We could hear Dalts urging us on before we could even see him and soon I could hear a second unexpected voice. My lovely wife had come to watch us finish. I would have loved to stop at the end of the track and give her a hug, but we had agreed to finish with a slow lap past the war memorial.
I love running past the flame at night and it was burning brightly as we passed before heading back to the cars. My post-run recovery was neither efficient nor graceful, but with my wife’s help I managed to get some warm clothes on, as a few celebratory beers were passed around and I tried to simultaneously cram food into my head.
The story didn’t quite end there either, as most of us then retired to the Solemates Presidential Residence as guests of the first family. Here we met up with a number of runners from the morning session and shared some laughs as we refuelled with pizza (if Josh Frydenberg can try to pretend coal energy is clean, I can make eating pizza sound virtuous). It was an absolutely epic day in which I had basically run from dawn 'til dusk (I considered dawn til dusk as a title for this article but didn't want to upset Tarantino fans). My previous longest run had been the 64km Bruny Island Ultra, so this was far longer and further than I had ever run before. There had been some tough moments and there had been some dull moments, but overwhelmingly, my memories of the day were happy ones of smiling, laughing and sharing the enthusiasm of others. Would I do it again?
Absolutely.
We met Ben coming back towards us by the rowing sheds and it was good to see he was still running well after 90km himself. I was pretty much on my last legs though. Even with the ongoing banter and Mr Thomas keeping a pretty close eye on me, I could feel myself dropping off a little and just struggling to keep my legs going.
I really didn’t want to remember the end of the run as a struggle so I managed to summon up a final vestige of courage/stubbornness (luckily I’m not short of sources for inspiration) for the last couple of kilometres. “Let’s get this finished,” I said (well that is the censored version anyway), forcing myself into a faster pace and determined to finish the run feeling strong. It was hardly a sprint to the line, but we pushed ourselves hard as we ran under the bridge and headed for the Cenotaph. We could hear Dalts urging us on before we could even see him and soon I could hear a second unexpected voice. My lovely wife had come to watch us finish. I would have loved to stop at the end of the track and give her a hug, but we had agreed to finish with a slow lap past the war memorial.
I love running past the flame at night and it was burning brightly as we passed before heading back to the cars. My post-run recovery was neither efficient nor graceful, but with my wife’s help I managed to get some warm clothes on, as a few celebratory beers were passed around and I tried to simultaneously cram food into my head.
The story didn’t quite end there either, as most of us then retired to the Solemates Presidential Residence as guests of the first family. Here we met up with a number of runners from the morning session and shared some laughs as we refuelled with pizza (if Josh Frydenberg can try to pretend coal energy is clean, I can make eating pizza sound virtuous). It was an absolutely epic day in which I had basically run from dawn 'til dusk (I considered dawn til dusk as a title for this article but didn't want to upset Tarantino fans). My previous longest run had been the 64km Bruny Island Ultra, so this was far longer and further than I had ever run before. There had been some tough moments and there had been some dull moments, but overwhelmingly, my memories of the day were happy ones of smiling, laughing and sharing the enthusiasm of others. Would I do it again?
Absolutely.