Going Sub-10 hours: Barefoot 100km Ultra
By Dayrunner
After clocking 11h17min for my 100km split in a 24hr track race run barefoot last June, I was left wondering how long it would take to run a dedicated 100km race barefoot. This February I therefore put myself to the test at the Stromlo 100km & 12hr Race, held in the Australian capital, Canberra.This race was designated the Australian national 100km championship, and there was excitement as one of Australia’s Olympic Marathon runners, Martin Dent would be competing and having a go at his first 100km. I was excited for other reasons too; this race was to be held on a 1km tarmac looped course within a cycling criterium, which was an irregular shape (including a hairpin bend), with a rise and fall from one end to the next. How would my feet and legs hold up on this surface? How would the elevation change and bend impact on me after 7 or 8 hours? Only one way to find out...
On arrival, my wife and I found that the designated campsite was in fact in the middle of the race loop. Assuming I finished in under 12 hours, we would be going to bed with runners still circling our tent, talk about immersing yourself in running!
The race started at 7pm (the race clock already had 30 mins on it due to the early start for the 50km runners), and I got off to a pretty quick start. It felt good running at sub-5 minute kms (just over 7min/Mi), at least that was until I copped a sharp bit of grit under the ball of the foot. As I was to become intimately aware of, there were two stretches (about 250m in total) of the 1km loop that had some coarse grit and small sharp stones strewn onto the tarmac loop. It wasn’t too bad, but once every 3 or so laps it had me dancing and using colourful language. This was going to be one long game of Russian Roulette...
I did my best to not look at the ground and stay relaxed, and clocked 30km in just over 2.5 hours.The Race Directors had obligingly marked the Marathon and 50 Mile points on the course with signs (for when people reached the relevant lap). The 50 mile one was particularly evil. At 30km I was starting to feel a bit sorry for myself and the 50 mile sign taunted me every lap; it was still 50km away, and even when I reached it I would still be 20km away from finished. F*%king sign!
After a few laps of greeting this inanimate object with contempt, I composed myself. It was dark now and I had been going a bit too fast. In my head I had been wondering if Sub-9 hours was possible, but the surface and my pace was starting to take its toll. I reminded myself Sub-10 was very achievable and would still be a 1hr+ PB, and accordingly eased off the gas. This was to prove the right decision: not too long after, several of the fastest runners (including the Olympic Marathoner) blew up and withdrew from the race. It can be a bit of a fine line sometimes, this ultrarunning pacing thing.
Things seemed to feel a bit better as mini milestones appeared: Marathon, 50km, 6hrs (65km). And at last, that f*%king 50 Mile sign! If I hadn’t have stopped to urinate three laps prior, I would have done one right there and then on it for posterity.There were other distractions too – a large (6ft) Kangaroo bounded across the dimly-lit track at one point in the night; I realised just as I was about to tell off a fat guy with little arms for cutting the course.
With 18km to go I realised I needed to step it up to stay on target, and running faster subsequently seemed to provide respite for my sore ankles and lower legs. I felt like I still had a bit in reserve, so ramped up the last few laps and ended up in a Forrest Gump-style sprint finish as I thought someone just above me in the placings was in reach (they turned out to in fact be a whole lap ahead, but it was still fun to put the afterburners on).
All done in 9h47min, 1.5hrs off of the previous 100km Barefoot Record and 5th Male in the AURA National 100km Championships. My wife and I trundled off to the tent, for her to sleep and me to discover how many different positions I could be uncomfortable in before the sun came up. The next morning I awoke to what sounded like thundering hooves, but what was in fact shod runners. I looked outside to find that a 30km race was taking place, and the course had been diverted right past our tent, there was no escaping runners this weekend!Dayrunner in the tent
Given some of the challenges of the track in this race (not major in themselves, but compounded over 100 laps), I intend to push myself to go for Sub-9 hours in the next barefoot 100km track race. This will have to wait however as there’s another 24hr race just a few weeks away…