In the week leading up to the world’s second-largest ultra trail running event, I had three terrible fantasies: a part of me prayed I would get gastro, get injured or that wild weather would make the race a non-starter. The anxious thoughts wobbled around my ability to run the 50-kilometre race, climbing more than 2220 metres of elevation and finishing with 1000 stairs. “Why am I doing this?” I asked myself in private – and in front of anyone who would listen.
The writer on the dirtbag trail: Trail running involves as much walking as running. Credit: Sportograf My best mate answered for me: “To reconnect, to challenge, to carve a thing that’s only yours, to shape-shift, to be masochistic, to prove a thing to self, to manifest disorders into different ones, to get banged up feet, to wipe clean and reboot, to run from and to, to be an athlete.” Thankfully, when I arrived in the Blue Mountains last weekend, the nerves dissipated and the awe of the natural beauty kicked in.
What also kicked in was the realisation that the dirtbag spirit is alive and kicking. I was one of more than 7000 runners from 48 different countries who came for the four events: the 11, 22, 50 and 100-kilometre runs. Just under half the participants were female, and the ages ranged from a 12-year-old (running in the 11-kilometre event) to an 84-year-old (running in the sold-out 50 kilometre event).
They had all come seeking the adventure of running through 60 metre-tall eucalyptus forests, down .