Kokoda Spirit
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
When asked to describe the events of our Kokoda Challenge post hoc in two words, Hunter replied strongly;
"UP" and "DOWN"
I reckon he was totally on the money. For the first part of the race we were 'up', for sure, managing to run the first, say, 15kms, and staying in the top 15 teams. We were running the downhills and making great time. It was a beautiful day, not too hot. Our spirits were flying pretty high.
The terrain was not as we'd expected. The part of the course we'd already walked was completely different to the majority. Picture sheep tracks and 4wd tracks that had been gouged deep by rain only days prior, with rocks littered across varying from pebbles to half a brick. Keeping the ankles and knees majorly intact was a mission in itself, and hence smaller injuries were unavoidable.
The course has three major climbs, at the pace we were going, it was one before lunch, one after lunch and one after dinner. The first two were hard bloody slog, and I struggled up 'em at a pretty slow pace by comparison to the rest of the team. After the second hill, all four of us started to show the first signs of injury. No-one broke a leg or fell heavily or anything, just the repeated trauma of walking and running for 7 hours (40+km) on terrain we were unprepared for. We began to slow down quite a bit, but in the light of day, it wasn't so hard to have a stretch, shake it off and compensate by walking differently.
Night fell at around the 50km mark, and we were still making good time, remaining inside the top 40 teams despite having slowed markedly. Torches on and about an hour from dinner, we trudged on to the checkpoint and some warm spaghetti and a good rest.
The next part of the trek was by far the hardest of the event; 18km of night walking including the toughest peak on the course. Once we'd knocked that over, we'd be 30km from home; including 4km of very steep downhill, some road walking, and two short but brutal climbs.
Walking at night, our spirits fell. We were down. The night had closed in and wasn't about to bust into dawn anytime soon. Every single foot placement was precarious. Our aching bodies lurched this way and that to remain upright, moving and safe. There was no telling where the track went outside the 10m of torch-provided visibility and a glow stick some 80m in the distance. The night was young. The night was long.
The full severity of our injuries revealed themselves. One of us was heavily Trendelenberging, and I had reverted to using a stick. Ah, if only we'd not ridiculed those with walking poles all those hours earlier at the start line. All of us were quiet; fighting the battle within as much as the trail and the night without. At a snail's pace, we climbed to the road and checkpoint 9. We were about 5km prior to the major checkpoint, where the support crew, food, drink and possibly a seat were waiting for us. Trendelenberging became sitting, and after a ten minute rest, we were down to three.
We trudged on along footpaths and inched up the climb into the checkpoint. Thanks to my sticks and the nature of my injuries, I was much much faster up the hills than down them. I was at the head of a wounded team. We fell into the checkpoint, two hours behind schedule. It was after midnight; we had 30km to go. We were spent, wasted and down. The three of us had a long talk - about 15minutes - about what to do. Each of us fleetingly expressed a desire to continue, but several factors beat our spirits down. We were going to take about 11 more hours. Could we even last that much longer? I was to be cripplingly slow down the next hill, and the others likewise up them. Up and down.
It was game over.
Batman and Wonderwoman had been the support crew all day. By the time we'd made it back to camp and collected all the gear, stoves, food, clothing and other miscellany, they'd had a 24-hour day. The other guys had fallen asleep about 15 minutes after we withdrew, whilst Batman drove us back to camp. I stayed with her and Wonderwoman in a trance-like state, just to make sure that no-one fell asleep at the wheel. It was 4.30am. Everyone slept in their race gear.
At 9am, everyone was up. We cleaned and packed and made our way back to Brisbane. For sleep.
I'm writing this post four days later, and I've had a few talks with the other guys about what went wrong. There are plans for next year, and by gum there's unfinished business.
We will succeed.
"UP" and "DOWN"
I reckon he was totally on the money. For the first part of the race we were 'up', for sure, managing to run the first, say, 15kms, and staying in the top 15 teams. We were running the downhills and making great time. It was a beautiful day, not too hot. Our spirits were flying pretty high.
The terrain was not as we'd expected. The part of the course we'd already walked was completely different to the majority. Picture sheep tracks and 4wd tracks that had been gouged deep by rain only days prior, with rocks littered across varying from pebbles to half a brick. Keeping the ankles and knees majorly intact was a mission in itself, and hence smaller injuries were unavoidable.
The course has three major climbs, at the pace we were going, it was one before lunch, one after lunch and one after dinner. The first two were hard bloody slog, and I struggled up 'em at a pretty slow pace by comparison to the rest of the team. After the second hill, all four of us started to show the first signs of injury. No-one broke a leg or fell heavily or anything, just the repeated trauma of walking and running for 7 hours (40+km) on terrain we were unprepared for. We began to slow down quite a bit, but in the light of day, it wasn't so hard to have a stretch, shake it off and compensate by walking differently.
Night fell at around the 50km mark, and we were still making good time, remaining inside the top 40 teams despite having slowed markedly. Torches on and about an hour from dinner, we trudged on to the checkpoint and some warm spaghetti and a good rest.
The next part of the trek was by far the hardest of the event; 18km of night walking including the toughest peak on the course. Once we'd knocked that over, we'd be 30km from home; including 4km of very steep downhill, some road walking, and two short but brutal climbs.
Walking at night, our spirits fell. We were down. The night had closed in and wasn't about to bust into dawn anytime soon. Every single foot placement was precarious. Our aching bodies lurched this way and that to remain upright, moving and safe. There was no telling where the track went outside the 10m of torch-provided visibility and a glow stick some 80m in the distance. The night was young. The night was long.
The full severity of our injuries revealed themselves. One of us was heavily Trendelenberging, and I had reverted to using a stick. Ah, if only we'd not ridiculed those with walking poles all those hours earlier at the start line. All of us were quiet; fighting the battle within as much as the trail and the night without. At a snail's pace, we climbed to the road and checkpoint 9. We were about 5km prior to the major checkpoint, where the support crew, food, drink and possibly a seat were waiting for us. Trendelenberging became sitting, and after a ten minute rest, we were down to three.
We trudged on along footpaths and inched up the climb into the checkpoint. Thanks to my sticks and the nature of my injuries, I was much much faster up the hills than down them. I was at the head of a wounded team. We fell into the checkpoint, two hours behind schedule. It was after midnight; we had 30km to go. We were spent, wasted and down. The three of us had a long talk - about 15minutes - about what to do. Each of us fleetingly expressed a desire to continue, but several factors beat our spirits down. We were going to take about 11 more hours. Could we even last that much longer? I was to be cripplingly slow down the next hill, and the others likewise up them. Up and down.
It was game over.
Batman and Wonderwoman had been the support crew all day. By the time we'd made it back to camp and collected all the gear, stoves, food, clothing and other miscellany, they'd had a 24-hour day. The other guys had fallen asleep about 15 minutes after we withdrew, whilst Batman drove us back to camp. I stayed with her and Wonderwoman in a trance-like state, just to make sure that no-one fell asleep at the wheel. It was 4.30am. Everyone slept in their race gear.
At 9am, everyone was up. We cleaned and packed and made our way back to Brisbane. For sleep.
I'm writing this post four days later, and I've had a few talks with the other guys about what went wrong. There are plans for next year, and by gum there's unfinished business.
We will succeed.
