Event date: June 2014

A 100km three stage race through the bush trails of Sydney

Start: Race briefing by Trailfest organiser Greg Donovan

Day 1, marathon one (34km)

Almost 12 months ago I had the experience of a lifetime running 250km through the Simpson Desert in six days. It changed my life for the better and taught me things about my body and Type 1 diabetes I never knew. Far from thinking I’d learnt it all I challenged myself again, this time to run 100km over three days in Sydney’s inaugural Trailfest. It was another great way to prove the only limits are the ones you set for yourself.

‘This is very different to the machine’. We were 20 minutes into Trailfest and Jay was in trouble.

Jason Longville (Jay) is my best mate. We went to college together, played rugby together, got drunk together and migrated to Australia, almost together. But Jay and I are quite different. He hates running with a passion; whereas I love it.

About six months ago Jay surprised me by agreeing to run in Trailfest, Sydney’s first 100km multi-day trail running event. Jay entered specifically to raise money and awareness about Type 1 diabetes. The thing is he doesn’t have diabetes, but I do. So, to support my cause, Jay had finally succumbed to a taste of trail running. Just 20 minutes in and he was tasting it alright. He was guzzling it down with gasps of breath and gulps of water.

Then he said it again ‘I f@@king hate running! This is nothing like the machine’.

Jay was fit. He had been training hard for several months. He’d been pumping out mile after mile on his cross training machine in the kitchen of his home before sunrise. So his aerobic capacity was good. He’d also shed several kilos of pies and red wine but, unfortunately, his running muscles were soft. This was pretty daunting as we still had a long way to run that day, plus a 42km marathon the next day, and a cool 24km on Monday too. So, we started to walk and talk instead.

The front of the field were already out and gone, and soon the back of the pack started going past us. As they did there was a nod here, an ‘alright?’ there, and occasionally a ‘coming through…’ but we were having fun and talking crap, so the time passed quickly.

Lots of people train hard for events, put in the road miles, weights at the gym, nutrition plans, intervals, stretching and tapering. I’d explained this to Jay early on in his training, but he was sticking to his 10-15km per day pre-dawn sessions on the cross trainer. I wasn’t going to tell him to change that, and anyway it was doing him good and it was the only way he could fit exercise into his busy work-life-dad-husband-chores routine.

It was better than nothing.

My training has been fairly loose and I was nowhere near as fit as I was for Big Red in 2013. I’d done a weekly 12km trail run and I’d started running home from work occasionally. I was okay, but I’d done more tapering than training, so I was expecting to go slow; and also hoping that my experience at Big Red would carry me through.

Day 1 felt long. Beautiful, but long. We actually took longer to cover the 34km course on Day 1 than any of my marathons in Big Red. It was excruciating for Jay and towards the end on the steepest of trails he succumbed to a volley of profanity. I laughed, and egged him on.

‘Come on Jay you gotta love the hills’ and ‘If it wasn’t tough, everyone would do it’.

I also tried distraction, so we went over lots of nonsense conversation. He didn’t agree with me on why running was good, but we did agree that ‘The Shawshank Redemption’ and ‘Star Wars Episode IV - A New Hope’ were in our list of Top 5 films of all time.

We finished in just over seven hours. It was a massive effort by Jay. Especially in his first run since school cross-country in 1985 when he ran a mile-and-a-half under the stern watch of the school’s Taffy sports-master. Nearly 30 years between runs and Jay had finished Day 1.

We’d actually got some decent periods of running in and mixed it up with a good marching pace, so we knew a few people were still on the course behind us. It turned out they were doing it tough too. People like John and Clare who had missed the tape for the last turn and ran much further than everyone else; and others like Janine and Kellie who with the utmost determination completed every inch and enjoyed the course at their own pace.

After nearly nine-and-a-half hours we had clapped the last competitor home.

We had some tea, a shower, did some stretches and then settled into a great evening meeting the rest of the runners over dinner.

The trail running family is a great one.

Our new brothers and sisters were relaxed people, encouraging, fun and only too willing to share anything from a hi-five or muesli bar on the course, to a word of encouragement or personal story that will hit you for six over dinner. They are remarkable people, running for many reasons, and this group was no different. If you’ve never experienced something like this it is powerful. The people you meet and the stories you share are the best bit.

Day 2, Sun 9 June(42km)

Day 2 arrived with the sound of the camp generator firing up at 5am. My diabetes control had been great on the first day [1].

Running and walking with Jay had given me plenty of time to monitor my sugar levels, eat when I needed to and I had judged my pre-race insulin injections perfectly.

Throughout Day 1 my sugars had been between 4 and 8 and this had worked well. As usual my first action on waking up on Day 2 was to test my blood sugar level and decide my insulin and food plan for the day. Assuming yesterday’s walking and running pace, I took a similar dose of insulin and went about the rest of my preparations. The first one being to kick-start Jay. There was a grunt from his sleeping bag, and I captured sleeping beauty rising from his bag on my phone.

Jay had a tough first day.

His knee was painful and his legs were tired, but he was going to continue. We had a conversation in the tent about tactics; not to win but just to get around. Jay wasn’t sure he’d make the full 42km. He was worried about holding me back. He’d mentioned on Day 1 that I should run ahead and I’d refused. For me this was about supporting and motivating him. Today reality struck. It seemed very likely that with so much knee pain Jay wouldn’t make 100m let alone the full marathon.

So we agreed to run separately.

He would tack onto the back of the pack and I would run at my own pace. My competitive juices had been squeezed and it would be good to see if I could match my desert marathon times on these equally tough bush trails.

Then it occurred to me that there was a problem.

Earlier I’d planned for a similar steady exertion of energy over the day and already had an injection of insulin that would accommodate a slower walking pace. If I was to run I would expend more energy quicker and I should have taken a lower dose. Instead, the extra insulin was already on board so, to counter it, I would need extra carbs. This was what I experienced on Day 1 of Big Red - a battle between low blood sugar caused by too much insulin; and eating enough food to keep my energy up. It wasn’t going to be great running, in fact a full belly would be quite uncomfortable, but it was certainly possible. I packed extra carbs into my race pack and went to the start line.

It was a great course on Sunday. A big loop with some out and back branch trails. On their way back from lookouts, the faster runners would run past the slower ones heading out and that meant we would see a lot of each other. It was going to be a good course.

I started well and ran with the middle of the pack. At the beginning I spent time with people like Jarrod, Erica, Steve and John. We had some great conversations about grizzly bears in Alaska, insulin pumps and injections, Big Red Run, the amazing views, how to treat cramps, and Steve’s huge determination to beat his own running goal, which he did that day with ease.

Soon the extra insulin on board took its toll and I started to fall back. I needed to eat more regularly and spent longer at check points testing by blood and eating. My full stomach was sickening, but the scenery and hi-fiving other runners on their loop backs kept me going. I especially remember the big smiles on the faces of Tony and Mary and of Melissa and Rebecca who I often passed in the opposite direction. I found my own pace and ran the rest of Day 2 on my own. I fought low sugars all the way and the volunteers at the aid stations were on my side.

Sooner than I expected the pink tape marking the course led me up to Mona Vale Road, and the last 3km into the showground. I looked at my watch and if I increased my pace I could break my marathon target of 6hrs. I sucked in some air, stuffed down some more food and stepped on the gas.

As I approached the last kilometer I could see Debbie out ahead of me. She was clearly carrying an injury and I was closing on her quickly. I’d seen glimpses of her ahead of me on some of the steep or straighter sections. My increased pace and her injury meant I was going to catch her right at the oval. I thought about catching her by surprise and sneaking past, but that would be crushing for her, so from 200m away I called out a warning

‘Look out..! I’m coming… don’t let me go past you I’m not slowing down’. It worked.

I could see Debbie lift. She stepped up a gear and ran the rest of the way home. I came in a few seconds behind and she thanked me for the boost. In fact, it was Debbie that had carried me home, sometimes the sight of another runner can do that. Both of us arrived at around 5hrs 50 and I was really pleased to have beaten six hours, but felt sick with a full belly of gel, powder, muesli bars and fruit buns. Only now would my sugar level start to stabilize. It was a satisfying feeling, until I looked over and saw Jay in the medical tent.

Jay was disappointed but determined. He’d managed a solid run of more than 20km before his knee pain got the better of him. Lauren, one of the volunteers and an ambassador from Trailfest Victoria was a physio. She’d been at one of the checkpoints and had explained the knee pain to Jay. It wasn’t catastrophic, but it was enough to rule Jay out of running any further that day without causing long term damage.

That night I finished some of the conversations I had started with other runners on the course. It was great talking around the camp fire and getting to know people, their interests and their reasons for entering an event like this. Gathered around the fire, we had the race briefing for the next day and then David - one of the volunteer’s husbands - unpacked his guitar and sang us some great songs. He has a fine voice and the songs were an exceptional treat that warmed us even more than the superb fire which Mitch had built.

This was a special feeling and a really enjoyable time to relax, have a laugh and soak up the experience.

Day 3, the home stretch (24km)

I woke on Day 3 to the sound of snoring, then the generator.

Today, Jay was going to start and see how far he could go, but we would again run separately. I knew what to expect after yesterday’s marathon and adjusted my insulin dose down to allow me to eat less and race faster.

This time I got it right.

On Day 3 we started in staggered groups. This was a great initiative by the organisers to get us all closer to finishing together. The back of the pack went first. They were having a lot of fun, but the two big days was taking its toll. There were limps and some shuffles, but they were moving. I was in the middle group and we were due to take off 45 minutes later.

I felt in great condition and led the second group out of the oval. The next time I looked around I’d pulled ahead further and there was no one there. I was on the right course and realized my pace was really good. I soon caught up the 45 minutes head start and joined the back of the pack. The first two people I passed were Jay and Peggy. They cheered and I went on.

I then passed Cheryl, and then the amazing and determined Clare who was cautiously climbing down the steepest descent of the whole course, then past the others and finally on to John. Everyone of them had encouraged me and cheered me on. I’d caught up and overtaken all the back markers and now led the race for the day, but it wouldn’t be long before the greyhounds that were the race leaders in the last group would catch up their own 45 minutes and pass me.

I was right.

First to pass me was Tony. He was flying, I found out from him later he had represented Australia as a triathlete. It showed, he was superb. Then a few minutes later Phill my tent buddy called out and I stepped aside and cheered him on. These guys were incredible they had made up 45 minutes on me before I’d got to the last checkpoint. Then a few minutes later and Kim and Darren (the overall winner) passed me together. They were moving quickly too.

I pushed on.

I was feeling much better today, and had none of the previous day’s low blood sugar or belly-ballast. Although I needed to walk up some of the hills, I was comfortable on the flats and fast going downhill. I also knew my wife (Justine) was bringing my sons to the finish line. I pushed on harder.

Soon I was at the last checkpoint and it was less than 6km to go. No need to stuff in more food or test my blood sugar here. I knew I was good for the finish line. I’d told Juz to be at the finish around 11am. It was 11.05 and I knew she would already be there with the boys.

As I got close to the showground I lifted. I could hear the music and the shouts. I picked up my stride length and soon Henry was in sight. He dropped his football and ran towards me. I lifted him onto my shoulders and saw Will and Juz also shouting encouragement. I carried Henry, who was steering me by the ears, over the finish line on my shoulders and collapsed in a heap.

I’d done it, a 100km race under my belt.

It felt good. I had run well. Jay had raised $4,000 for JDRF and I had raised awareness once again that Type 1 diabetes does not have to be limiting. I’m now in my 40s and since being diagnosed at age 14 I’ve had thousands of injections and even more blood tests.

But I’m still fit, and probably fitter for having it than not. I’m out there to give hope to the young kids and their parents experiencing the fear and confusion at being diagnosed with Type 1 that almost anything is possible, and that there will be great times ahead.

I wasn’t the only one either. Jarrod was diagnosed when he was just 18 months old and ran well until his running shoes let him down on Day 2, and Melissa ran and managed her diabetes perfectly. She secured a podium place. Like me, both have Type 1 diabetes and inspire others through their actions.

Event wrap:

For Jay, Trailfest was massive.

He’d run almost 70km and way further than any before. He’d raised lots of money for JDRF and broken his running demons. He’s fitter, stronger and lighter than he’s been in a long while. He’s also had a glimpse into my world and met a family of great trail running people he’d never otherwise have known. Right now, I expect he’s got his feet-up, with a nice Merlot and probably a Star Wars movie on TV, but after a few more physio sessions he’ll be back on his machine training for the next one; or maybe not. Jay’s always been a good mate, but what he did for me and JDRF, by confronting his biggest hate, was noble and great.

It’s something that I hope will stay with him for a long time, it will stay with me forever.

For me, Trailfest was much less about diabetes than Big Red had been in 2013. It was still a motivation, but Trailfest was more about just enjoying the feeling of doing something challenging and sharing fantastic feelings of achievement with like-minded people.

Sure, I spent some time wondering whether if I got my blood sugars and insulin perfect I might go faster. I also had the occasional wish on Day 2 that I didn’t have diabetes so I could run faster, without a belly-full of carbs. But, at the end of it, I know that it’s exactly because I have diabetes that I’m there competing at all. And, in fact, that having diabetes has made me the person who fits in so well at these events. Like Mel, one day I will have my ‘perfect race’ and leave the others in my trail. But until then I’m just going to enjoy trying.

Thanks

Trailfest was a truly amazing and tough course and the organization was first class. Well done to the Born to Run Foundation which is the Donovan family, the volunteers, first aiders, caterers, course setters and Adrian Bailey the Race Director. As a team you set great races and make extra-ordinary adventures. I am in debt to you for such wonderful experiences. I hope I pay you back by encouraging more people to enter your amazing events. For the other runners, I was glad it was a small field. I met every single one of you and learnt something from you all. I would have liked more time for more conversations, but there’s always next time. To Jay, my best mate who hates running with a furious passion, it was worth every inch. You conquered the best part of 100km through the toughest bush trails on offer and you did me and yourself proud. You also raised $4,000 for JDRF which will find a cure for diabetes one day. So, thanks.

[1] (My diabetes control had been great on the first day)

The bodies of people like me with Type 1 diabetes cannot regulate blood sugar levels automatically. We need to balance the things we do every day like eating, exercising and using the drug insulin to target blood sugar levels between 4 and 8.

I inject insulin, normally 4 times a day to bring my sugar levels down after or before eating, others use pumps which provide a continuous controllable supply. We cannot live without insulin and our lives are a constant balance.

Our sugar levels, diet and activities are always front of mind. Our lives are made easier by blood glucose testing kits we carry with us everywhere, they are the size of a small wallet. We recognise our own symptoms of much higher (>10) or much lower (<4) blood sugar levels, but extreme activities make it harder.

When glucose levels are too low there is an immediate and dangerous impact, which may lead to hypo (collapse, and sometimes but rarely death). This can be averted by eating foods or drinks rich in simple carbs like jelly beans, biscuits, orange juice.

When glucose levels are too high the risk is less immediate, but high sugars can also lead to coma and death if extended over long periods.

Insulin and exercise lower blood sugars. Food raises them.

Poor control over short periods of several days is uncomfortable but can be okay. Poor blood glucose control over long periods is very serious and inevitably leads to a higher risk of complications like high blood pressure, heart disease, kidney failure, eye damage.

Keeping fit, exercising and eating a healthy balanced diet is even more critical in a person with Type 1 than it is for everyone else. My view is that vigorous exercise should be promoted and encouraged for people with Type 1. It has a multitude of physical, social and psychological benefits. Not all practitioners agree, although I’ve found supportive ones that do.

2014 Trailfest Sydney, 100km

Day 1, marathon one (34km)

Day 2, Sun 9 June(42km)

Day 3, the home stretch (24km)

Event wrap:

2015 Shotover Marathon Queenstown, 42km

2013 Big Red Run, 250km