Exactly what you would expect from a high end running experience and then some.

In the lead up I couldn’t fault my preparation. Training went to plan, I was healthy and well rested and I don’t think I’ve been able to say that going into a long distance event before. So when I lined up on the start line the tears were only from sheer excitement and being overwhelmed at everything coming together at that moment where I was truly ready for my first 100km race.

I had an incredible day out but it’s not because it was smooth sailing, or everything just lined up on the day. It’s because I truly went to THAT place that you hear about. I learned something very special about myself about strength and resilience and the incredible ability of the human body to push through when the going gets tough.

Pre race

The day before was full of hype and nervous energy as we visited the race village to complete check-in and the much-anticipated expo. Definitely my favorite expo to date, I mean I got to meet Lucy Bartholemew and the brands were a trail runner’s dream.  Salomon, Aussie Grit, Injinji, Buff, Koda, Clif and it goes on…. safe to say I had to be dragged away but before heading back to the accommodation we watched the 22km event finishers for a while. Tash and Hayley came in strong amongst some of the carnage on the finish line. It’s crazy how far people push themselves!

We were staying with the Tassie run crew in Leura. About half doing the 100km (some for the 5th time) and the other half the 50km. It’s always great to stay with these guys, we’re all crazy about running, love to have a laugh and there’s a very special about being with your running people surrounding an event.

Back at the accommodation we all spent the arvo packing and repacking our vests, grazing on light snacks and laying out our kit ready for the morning. The weather forecast for Saturday was sunny and 17 so it was no surprise when the 100 weight fleece and wet weather pants were scrapped from the mandatory gear at the race briefing. While the briefing was compulsory you could either attend in person or watch on the UTA Livestream, just one of the many well thought out aspects of the event. We opted for the latter which meant we could spend a bit more time with feet up and relaxing before we called it a night.

Race Day

Getting to the event was easy, the free shuttle bus stop was just around the corner, so shortly after 6 am Toby and I joined a group of excited runners and bussed to Scenic World, Katoomba.

After a short walk up the hill, we hung around at the start line and watch a few of the Tassie crew head off and it all got very exciting… This was it, everything I’d done over the last 12 months had been with this race in mind. Opting out of other events or backing away from a fast 10km time because it wasn’t my focus, I had chosen this event and stuck to it…

As we said goodbye to each other I broke down… It’s not happened to me before, I felt utterly overwhelmed about what was about to occur. A kiss, some stern but supportive words and a little shove into the crowd later and Toby sent me on my way.

Sucking back my tears I shuffled through to the chute to join the stream of athletes in start group 4, for our 7:06 kick off.

I heard my name being screamed and turned to see the 50kers of our Tassie run crew over the barrier. Their start time was next after mine and I was so glad to catch them before their race. I grabbed Jill for a hug and she could tell I was a mess. Quick hugs and kisses and the countdown was on.

10, 9, 8 shit this is it! 4, 3, 2… eek, get my watch ready… Go!

My race plan

Run easy but consistently with no emphasis on finishing time. I wanted to focus on always moving forward, keeping checkpoint stops relaxed but downtime to a minimum, without sacrificing time to change clothes or make adjustments where required.

My nutrition plan

500ml water with Naked Tailwind every 1.5hrs for the first 78km. From there I swapped out for (Caffeine) Green Tea Tailwind to bring me home. I planned to top up at every checkpoint with salt and vinegar chips, watermelon, bakery goods, and lollies just to keep my stomach settled. I’d heard that extensive durations on just Tailwind could cause gut problems so this was just precautionary and just nice psychologically to know that over 16hrs I’d had some sort of solid food.

I also carried emergency supplies of Shotz gels and Clif Bloks in case I wanted to jump the Tailwind ship at any time. But it never came.

I had a small hiccup where I forgot to fill a water flask at CP1 and ran out of Tailwind/water.  I  messaged Toby to see where I’d gone wrong and he assured me it would be alright, whilst not ideal I could get the next 10km done without any fluids. I took this on board and then quickly moved past it, there wasn’t anything I could do about it now anyways 🤣🥰

My gear plan

I was wearing Abi and Joseph endurance 5″ shorts, Runphoria original singlet, 2XU long compression socks, Lululemon Energy Bra, and La Sportiva Mutant trail shoes.

This combo worked so well for me in training and performed perfectly on race day, I only swapped out top layers for cooler weather in the evening.

The first 5 or so km were on road and crowds lined the sides with cowbells and endless cheers.

We climbed up past Scenic World before turning to come back past the start. My emotion had settled by now and I waved bye to Toby as I passed, the next time I’d see him would be in 42km.

Soon we turned onto boardwalk along the right side of the valley and it was instantly spectacular. The morning fog was low in the hills, it was crisp but not cold and the vastness of the Blue Mountains took my breath away. I stopped to take some photos before we turned up onto a single trail for a bit before heading down Furber Steps.  After this, the trail got steep and quite technical. It’s here that I first noticed the congestion. There was a lot of stopping to wait for runners to walk sections of technical trail, and while they were generally pretty good at letting faster ones through, after a couple of photo stops I realised I better just keep going until the trail widened.

After a decent bout of vert, we turned onto the first of many fire trails.

Now, the fire trails weren’t like ours at home, these were as wide as a highway and groomed smooth with sand. As we ran up and down the yellow roads the scenery opened up beautifully and looking out in either direction the Blue of the mountain tops shone in the bright sun. The weather was really on our side with blue skies and warm temp which meant I’d shed my gloves ages and was very happy with my decision to run in a singlet.

Just before Checkpoint 1 (CP1) 11.4km, I ran into Paul (Pbdownunder) who we follow on Instagram. I love being at these big events and meeting people like Paul that you feel you already know through following their running journey online but then get to meet in real life.  A couple of photos (of course) later and we were at the checkpoint. A quick toilet stop here and some lollies and I was on my way…. Unfortunately, I didn’t fill my 3rd flash with water here and hence ran dry before getting to CP2. Not sure how I got that wrong but regardless it all worked out in the end.

After another 10km or so on the dusty fire trail we got to Narrow Neck where we turned back onto single track.

This was pretty technical and again I encountered quite a bit of waiting for people to navigate the steep, rocky drops the led us down the steel ladder into the valley. As we got to Tarros Ladder, with only one person allowed at a time and currently with a 5min wait, the guy in front of me and I decided to take the 300m detour.

This was super technical and you could tell it wasn’t a very well used trail.

Mostly the soft ground just slid away from under your feet and luckily there was a rope tied along the top side we could hold on to.

After climbing down a makeshift wooden ladder with carpet underneath we were soon back on the trail.

Not only was there no congestion we didn’t recognise any of the surrounding runners. We decided that taking the detour had paid off and ran on our merry way.

It wasn’t long after here I realised I’d made the mistake of not taking on more water at CP1.

Because the crew was only allowed at CP3, CP4, and CP5 I had to have enough supplies to get me through approx 6 hrs before Toby would refuel me. So to get me through I had Tailwind in all 4 flasks but two of them without water so I could just fill up along the way without having to get weighed down. Unfortunately, I forgot to fill my 3rd flask at CP1 so now I was out of fluids and nutrition. Luckily I had backup nutrition and after messaging Toby I decided the water would just have to wait until the next checkpoint. I didn’t waste any more time worrying about this as there wasn’t anything I could do about it I ran on.

Before long CP2 (32km) was up ahead and I was pretty happy to get there.

It was a welcoming sight with music, giant water vessels, and food galore. After filling the remaining 2 flasks with water and giving them a good shake to mix the Tailwind, I grabbed some watermelon, salt & vinegar chips and three lollies before heading to the Checkpoint exit. I had to make sure I stayed true to my plan of topping up with solid-ish& food at checkpoints to avoid any possible tummy issues later in the night.

Leaving CP2 I was a much happier camper knowing I had enough fuel for the next 14kms, and that soon I would get to see Toby! It was almost midday at this point and we headed through some beautiful privately owned land toward the climb up to Iron Pot Ridge. There had been a lot of walking to this point and as we neared the steep dirt incline I noticed I was trailing behind a lot of the other athletes.

It was about this time that I started to get some niggles.

First, my toes ached from pounding downhill, later it would be my left knee from the same thing. I had a moment of ‘how is this going to work right through to the end if I’m only 1/3 the way through, but as I reflect I’m so surprised that I never thought ‘will I finish?’

It became apparent early on that you almost can’t train for the volume of effort an event like this requires.

As we kept hitting endless climbs and steep descents I thought, ‘we’ve trained on courses similar to this, but obviously not at this volume’ 🤣🤣 so as the niggles came, it just presented me with a challenge to find a way to run through them and worry about it afterward.

Soon we neared Iron Pot Ridge and there was a warm welcome waiting ahead. Jane (I found out her name in the days after) was the loudest and most energetic supporter yet. Sitting in a chair at the fork in the path directing us out along the ridge and then cheering furiously as we returned. The short (266m each way) loop out along the ridge itself was really enjoyable. A very technical section out in the warm sun, it felt great to be alive. Not only did we get to see fellow athletes coming back along the rock face above us, but some of the indigenous folk were also serenading us through the bush with the hum of a didgeridoo and clapsticks.

The welcome to country for this event had been so incredible earlier in the day and I felt a strong connection to the land throughout the run already so this was such a spectacular and extremely special sight to witness. I refrained from taking a photo or any footage at this point as it just felt like it might ruin the moment for me. And I’m glad I didn’t because I’ll never forget it.

The descent from here was a mix of fun, fear and pain. The track was super steep with loose, dusty soil underfoot and I couldn’t help laughing (and almost crying) as I fell uncontrollably down the trail, catching myself on one tree at a time. If my toes weren’t hurting before, they were burning now as they pounded into the end of my shoes step after step. There were laughs and shrieks and screams echoing through the bush as the trail of athletes made their way down the hill and into the flatter more open terrain. Soon we came out into private farm land and it was a funny sight to see a bunch of runners navigating horse poo and creek crossings as we moved through the paddocks.

At this point I felt sore in my body, but good mentally.

I was so excited about seeing Toby very soon, and as we turned to take on another steep grassy climb a sign indicated random gear check and CP3 (46km) ahead. Almost instantly the ring of cowbells echoed in the distance and the sounds of an excited crowd could be heard from the top of the hill. I neared the gear tent and showed the items they were after, thermal top and phone. I threw on my vest and ran fast down the hill and through the bunting, my face lighting up when I saw Toby directing me around to where he was set up.

My race plan was all about prevention so I didn’t have to risk dropping out for something silly like chafe or nutrition errors etc..

So even though I felt pretty good here, I took the time at CP3 to reapply vaseline, rearrange my vest pack and make sure my clothes still felt ok. I was really keen to find out how the others were going and the 50Kers had gone. I fired questions, had they finished yet? How were the other 100kers feeling? …. Toby filled me in, to the best of his ability before I made my way toward the checkpoint exit, grabbing the usual chips, bakery goods, and lollies along the way.

The crowds were crazy, reading names off the race bibs, they made such a fuss every time a runner left the checkpoint.

So as I navigated the exit it was with chills down my spine as total strangers screamed my name and cheered me off.

Toby had reassured me I was heading into the forest in this next leg which would be a welcome change from the last 30 odd km in direct sun. Not far down the road I recognised someone walking up ahead, it was Trent and I was really excited to see him as I hadn’t expected to come across any of our Tassie crew on the run.  He’d, unfortunately, hurt himself in the first 20km or so and was having a bit of downtime. We chatted for a bit before I picked up my feet and plodded on.

The scenery was really beautiful here, the speckled sun coming through tall trees that lined the long grassy road. I was starting to see familiar runners along the way. It was fun to spot a familiar pair of shorts or socks and just think ‘there’s that person again’. I couldn’t for the life of me tell you what their faces looked like, just their clothes from behind.

Soon enough the 50Km marker was right in from of me….

I almost got excited before I remembered this wasn’t halfway for me… that was 75km… so I took a pic and then moved on promptly. Only 25km until I reach halfway I thought, winning!

We’d been away from civilisation for a long time now, it was about 2:30 pm and I knew the next checkpoint was in the Katoomba Aquatic Centre so we’d be making our way back around to the town.

This was the hardest leg for me.

The climb up Nellies Glen track was super steep and the wet, muddy steps seemed endless. There were a couple of athletes gaining on me and I could hear the click-clack of their walking poles as they cheerily chatted their way up the steep climb. I was in awe of them as they passed by, making a comment that the poles were a godsend. I didn’t have poles nor had I ever thought about using them, but they seemed to be charging merrily uphill as many of us fell breathless in their wake.

Before long we reached the top and came out onto Stuarts Road. This section was pretty hectic underfoot and sure enough, I tripped over just a few hundred metres in.

Luckily I caught myself before I could hit the ground, stubbing my toe in the fall.

I swore out loud and I realised I had kind of been in a trance. We were 53Km in and I’d settled into a zen-like state just to get through the last massive climb so this near miss woke me right up and I was so thankful not to have hurt myself.

Back on the road, I took extra care to navigate traffic and follow the signs, it’s safe to say that fatigue can make you do silly things and I didn’t want to let my guard down again and possibly get hit by a car. There was a welcoming crowd of spectators as we ran the streets up to CP4, where I was again relieved and happy to see Toby waiting for me with a chair and supplies.

CP4 (58km) – I took a bit of time at this checkpoint, it’s hard to say how long but I certainly got a bit comfy.

I ate bakery goods and salty chips and walked around for a bit to find someone to strap my knee. It was hurting a lot when I ran downhill and I knew there was no shortage of that coming up so I wanted to get on top of it. The checkpoint staff were beyond helpful, offering to change your clothes or fill your nutrition, even with a full support crew. It was really a standout of the whole event, the amazing work of the vollies. So before long, I was on the physio table getting my knee strapped. I was a bit embarrassed about the state I was in. to be honest. Here were these two clean, lovely young ladies attending to one stinky, salty, sweaty, muddy, crusty human. it was funny.

Toby and I decided to change my top before I headed back out again, this would be one of the longest legs between checkpoints. 22km and it was already 3:45 pm, so I ditched my singlet for a long sleeve Lulu top and threw some fresh gloves in my pack. I kept my shoes, socks, and shorts untouched, and just applied a little more vaseline where my vest pack was sitting to mitigate any rubbing.

I felt like a new woman leaving this checkpoint.

With my knee strapped, it lifted the cap right up and I could run relatively pain-free again. I texted Toby to say thanks for being the best crew on the planet and commenced the next run leg with renewed energy.

After a short time on the road, we turned down to run on some really spongy, grassy terrain which was like running on pillows. Then before I knew it we were back at Cliff Drive where we’d been almost 9 hrs earlier in the day. As we turned left toward Echo Point there were tourists everywhere. The path was narrow and the sun was low in the sky and it felt surreal to be sharing the footpath with so many people who weren’t part of the race.

Before long we reached The Giant Staircase and I don’t think any amount of stair training could have prepared me for what was to come.

It was kind of funny but not funny at the same time. The scarily steep, narrow staircase just went on for an eternity and you could hear the athletes almost groaning in unison as the impact of knees and hips was felt with every step-down. But the scenery, amazing. The sun was reflecting off the cliffs that spread for miles in the distance. It was truly something spectacular.

After what seemed like an eternity we were deep in the forest again and it was cool and somewhat dark.

A look at my watch told me it was 5:15 pm, surely I wouldn’t need my head torch just yet? I hadn’t really banked on it getting darker earlier because we’d be under the canopy, I didn’t want to get it out too early in case it ran out before I finished. I made a deal with myself to hold off until 5:30, but before long the trips and slips of those in front made me realise it was far better to get it out now than to risk falling off a cliff or face planting. I would just use my main head torch until it ran out which would be about 11:15 pm, then I’d have to get out my backup light.

As I pulled off the trail to get my torch sorted, another runner had the same idea. As we stood there fiddling with our packs, he said ‘I saw you crying this morning, and I wanted to give you a hug.’ My instant reaction was one of embarrassment but I thanked him before he ran off into the forest.

Random running banter with total strangers, just one of the things I love about this crazy sport we dig so much.

I held off turning my light on for a little bit because in a minute we reached a far lighter part of the track where the canopy opened up and the remains of the sunset were shining in. I stopped to take a picture of the spectacular waterfalls at the base of our next big climb and remember just thinking, ‘I don’t even care if I get a leech, I way to buggered to even think about it!’  I must’ve been really tired as I’ve never thought that before!

As we climbed up some more stairs and wound around the cliff edge there was the most beautiful sight. The moon, huge and orange right in front of us and the handful of runners around me simply stopped to stare. I tried to get my phone out to take a picture but I was all thumbs from fatigue, so chuckling (painfully) to myself I gave up and took a mental picture instead.

Photo credit: Ultra Trail Australia

I started wondering about the rest of the Tassie crew and how they were all going.

The 50kers would certainly be finished by now and I was so keen to hear how their run had gone. I reached in for my phone and after much fumbling and wiping off sweat, I got it unlocked. I opened up the group chat and had grand plans to ask how they were but after almost falling head first over the edge at the next turn I gave up.

With nightfall definitely upon us, we quickly transitioned to night running.

Even though my head torch was on and shining an impressive 750 lumens across the trail, I was apprehensive to run strong for risk of tripping or falling over the edge so my pace dropped a bit as we negotiated technical single trail and stair after stair. I’m sure if it were still light it wouldn’t have felt quite so isolated but in the pitch dark with nothing but a steady stream of head torches and reflective jackets weaving their way through the forest it felt like we were worlds away. During training, I remember thinking it was potentially going to be scary running the race when night fell.

It wasn’t, actually quite the opposite, I felt relaxed and comfortable knowing that just around the corner there was another runner plodding their way through each Km with me. This last bit of this leg seemed to go longer than I’d anticipated.

Not having had anything but plain Tailwind and a few snacks all day and now running along a road with a steady stream of cars coming in the opposite direction I noticed how tired I was, yawning every few mins.

I was keen to get to CP5, the 78Km mark, and start having some caffeine to give me a now much-needed boost.

I came to a couple of Marshalls and they said the checkpoint was 2km down the road. a quick look at my watch and there it was, 75.5km and counting. I let out a sigh of relief, halfway. finally. ‘The race really started now’ I told myself and I continued along the seemingly endless road.

I finally saw the lights of CP5 beaming through the trees ahead of me and I rolled through the chute and into Toby’s arms.

I sure was tired, and I just needed to get in and out of this checkpoint as fast as possible so I didn’t risk getting too comfortable. Adrian had told me months before not to go near the fires at the checkpoints for fear of getting cosy and warm and struggling to get back up again. It took extra care not to let myself down too much at the checkpoints. Toby knew I was absolutely hurting, but we never talked about it. He was amazing at crewing for me.

We both knew how much I wanted this, we both knew how much I didn’t want to DNF and he did a remarkable job of providing just enough nurturing to make sure I was physically and mentally strong enough to go on but never enough to lose control and entertain not finishing. We never even let the thought enter our minds let alone escape our lips. He told me later that when he saw me roll into CP5 and sit with my head in my hands for a brief moment he had a glimpse of worry about what he would need to say to me if I didn’t want to go on.

I had warned him that in the event this should happen he was to give me tough love and a good kick in the pants until I  shook off any negative vibes. But thankfully it didn’t get to that, we both stood strong and moved with haste through the motions to get me back on the road.

As part of the race briefing the night before I needed to carry my 100 weight fleece if I left CP5 after 7:30 pm. I was just a little past this time but instead of carrying it I decided to chuck it on and so I quickly (with the help of Bomber’s Dad, I found out later) got changed.

I grabbed a fruit muffin covered in pink fluffy icing and munched on it mindlessly as I wandered down the checkpoint exit chute and off into the dark, giving Tobes a final wave.

A little bit of me was excited as I remembered I now had three bottles of caffeine Tailwind in my vest, which was the first change from Naked Tailwind all day. I was clutching at straws at this stage for things to think about so I pondered on this momentarily while I guzzled 1, 2, 3 mouthfuls from my flask. It was a stunning evening, and I was warm in my 100 weight fleece, it felt like a snuggly blanket and gave me a sense of comfort as I got ready for the 8km long descent up ahead.

I knew this was going to hurt, I just didn’t realise quite how much.

For someone who prides themselves on being a downhill mountain goat, it was pretty shit that I could only make a few hundred meters at a time down the steep fire trail before having to pull up in agony and walk it out.  I’d started to feel the buzz of the caffeine and as I guzzled a few more mouthfuls I commenced the runner’s internal negotiations. I love (hate) these moments, you’re making deals with yourself based on your perceived effort or pain and in this particular scenario, I knew a few things that were non-negotiable.  1. I was finishing this race. 2. I wasn’t walking downhill.

Soon I started to feel a bit more alert and I decided to just run.

Surprisingly after 500mtrs or so I fell into a rhythm of just blocking out the pain and letting my mind wander. I mean, let’s face it, I’d been running now for 12.5hr. This was way beyond anything I ever thought I could achieve and yet here I was. All I wanted to do was continue the race and keep experiencing every km ahead.

I had a moment during this last 22km leg of the run, actually a few moments if I’m honest.

Moments of pride and gratitude and well, just kindness to myself.

I may even have given myself a physical pat on the back (I hope no one saw that) because I just reached a point, not long after I decided to shut out the physical pain, where I felt impressed by what was playing out in front of me.

I wasn’t stopping, in fact, I just kept passing more and more runners.

And as I continued I just kept thinking ‘I’ve taken myself to a new place, a place where I don’t want to give up and walk it in, a place where I want to run this part because it’s fire trail and not technical and what a waste it would be to walk and not take advantage of that before we hit single track in another 8 or so Kms.’ I started to gush at the sheer ability of the human body if you can just break through the mental barriers of perceived pain and effort.

It’s safe to say that when I finally decided to choose the experience over pain, the final 22km was by far my most enjoyable and in fact my fastest for the whole run.

From this point, every time my watch clicked over another km I smiled a little bit wider.

When I was in the 80’s I was chucking a little to myself but when I reached 90km, I wanted to tell someone… As I write this I realise how silly that sounds as Toby was most likely tracking me on the App and already knew I’d reached 90km but I wanted to tell him anyways. When I opened up the messaging app on my phone I was shocked to see so many unread messages. I had turned all notifications off for the race in order to conserve phone and watch battery so as I power walked the next hill I read through beautiful messages from friends and family.

My good friend Tamsyn had sent a string of messages over the last 20-30km and I could almost hear the excitement building in her tone.

As the road narrowed down into the saddle I could see the 91km emergency aid station up ahead. I didn’t stop, I’d decided I was good for this race now and I didn’t want to see a warming fire pit or friendly face until the end! As I continued through and turned onto the trail I could hear singing all of a sudden. Then out of nowhere, a woman with was behind me singing loudly to herself. The things you do to get you through, I thought….. and up the hill, we went.

I fired off a few messages as we charged uphill, I just couldn’t stop smiling.

“I’ve just left the 91km station, I’m so bloody proud!” I wrote.

To which I got some funny “You’re proud!” responses. As I passed another runner I turned and said “I just thought I’d take this opportunity to respond to a few messages” He just grunted and clearly thought I sounded like a mad woman. Which I thought was hilarious and continued up the hill.

The next and last 9km were incredible.

I went past a lot of people, including some familiar faces like Jared, Bomber, and Sticks. I was surprised we even recognised each other in the dark but it was nice to exchange some words and then move on.

As I navigated the trail back through the forest toward Furber Steps I saw the ‘5km To Go’ sign.

I was so surprised at the time on my watch.

Actually so much so that I thought I must be a mistake. I’d been running for 15hrs 20mins and I never ever imagined I’d be finishing this race in under 17hrs. I had hoped for somewhere between 18 and 19 so I thought I was either flying or hallucinating. I settled for the latter. I noticed a flicker in my head torch and with THOSE stairs up ahead and THAT time showing on my watch I wanted to finish strong and in one piece so I decided to unpack my emergency head torch now instead of having to do it mid staircase. It was a relatively quick turnaround, and I kept moving as I riffled through my dry sack to locate my Bindi light. With a bright new light on my head, I turned up around a corner to commence the Furber Steps climb and the last of this incredible race.

18mins later I hit the last step and started running.

The cowbells were chiming, the crowds were roaring and I could see the start of the finishers chute up ahead.

I picked up the pace and started to fill with energy. It was a different picture than that 16hrs earlier. Beers replaced Coffees in spectators hands and the commentators banter rung loud from the speakers. I jumped up to give one of them a high five and sped for the finish line. Getting entirely engulfed in the moment I leaped up into the air and star jumped across the finish line in 16hrs 11mins and 18 seconds. My mind was blown.

I couldn’t stop smiling and then, as I turned to see Toby and Jill, Elaine, Kevin, Simon and Teddy I fell hard into tears.

Wrapped in my blue finisher’s towel I wandered down and collected my Bronze belt buckle.

I’d done it! I’d bloody done it.

In the hours following the event, I went into the recovery zone to shower, eat and debrief with the Tassie run crew.

We ventured home and got a couple of hrs sleep before heading back up to see Courto and then John finish.

To see the look on their faces when they reached that finish line, it’s something I won’t ever forget and the emotion comes flooding back easily as I write this.

Every Tasmanian finished their race this year across, all events and Amy took out the win for 100km… It’s sure is an incredible time to be a runner and I feel so lucky to have a fantastic community surrounding the sport we love.

Put this race on your list. Put it on the very top of your list.

Until next year UTA……

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