Dorrigo Fun Run Map

Garmin Connect – Activity Details for Untitled.

Heatwave Tamworth

Heatwave Tamworth

Oxley Park cowers under the stinging sun
weighing down on wilted straw dry stone grass.

White Box crowns glare harsh flat,
in blinding light that melts bitumen in Peel Street.

Wilga leaves weep for the silent bush, where no bird
has the energy to sing, and Kangaroos shelter
in the scant shade of mock olives.

Even the diurnal ant shift is on strike, and only
big black bush flies murmurring in disgruntled voices
brave the infernal heat.

Quinkin 2001

 

 

An absolutely ordinary rainbow

An Absolutely Ordinary Rainbow

The word goes round Repins,
the murmur goes round Lorenzinis,
at Tattersalls, men look up from sheets of numbers,
the Stock Exchange scribblers forget the chalk in their hands
and men with bread in their pockets leave the Greek Club:
There’s a fellow crying in Martin Place. They can’t stop him.

The traffic in George Street is banked up for half a mile
and drained of motion. The crowds are edgy with talk
and more crowds come hurrying. Many run in the back streets
which minutes ago were busy main streets, pointing:
There’s a fellow weeping down there. No one can stop him.

The man we surround, the man no one approaches
simply weeps, and does not cover it, weeps
not like a child, not like the wind, like a man
and does not declaim it, nor beat his breast, nor even
sob very loudly—yet the dignity of his weeping

holds us back from his space, the hollow he makes about him
in the midday light, in his pentagram of sorrow,
and uniforms back in the crowd who tried to seize him
stare out at him, and feel, with amazement, their minds
longing for tears as children for a rainbow.

Some will say, in the years to come, a halo
or force stood around him. There is no such thing.
Some will say they were shocked and would have stopped him
but they will not have been there. The fiercest manhood,
the toughest reserve, the slickest wit amongst us

trembles with silence, and burns with unexpected
judgements of peace. Some in the concourse scream
who thought themselves happy. Only the smallest children
and such as look out of Paradise come near him
and sit at his feet, with dogs and dusty pigeons.

Ridiculous, says a man near me, and stops
his mouth with his hands, as if it uttered vomit—
and I see a woman, shining, stretch her hand
and shake as she receives the gift of weeping;
as many as follow her also receive it

and many weep for sheer acceptance, and more
refuse to weep for fear of all acceptance,
but the weeping man, like the earth, requires nothing,
the man who weeps ignores us, and cries out
of his writhen face and ordinary body

not words, but grief, not messages, but sorrow,
hard as the earth, sheer, present as the sea—
and when he stops, he simply walks between us
mopping his face with the dignity of one
man who has wept, and now has finished weeping.

Evading believers, he hurries off down Pitt Street.

Les Murray An Absolutely Ordinary Rainbow

The week that wasn’t V2.1

Sun: 20km

Mon: field, mossie bite hell

Tues: 12km

Wed: field, more fun in the sun

Thurs: 16km

Fri: Rest, I needed some

Sat: 12km

60km

RR Dorrigo Fun 6.5km- socks and a sack

I ummed and ahhed about doing this run.

Now I’m glad I did.

Pre race. Last night I struggled to sleep. I had my window open, but no wind arrived to relieve the stifling heat. It was after midnight before I was able to coax myself to sleep against the sweat trickling down the back of my neck, and the frustrating sweat induced itchiness.

What would the race be like in the morning? A 9:00am start at  North Dorrigo. Might be cooler up the mountain at Dorrigo, but any run at that time of the morning would have a sting of heat and humidity to it.

So I began the 40 minute drive from Coffs Harbour to Dorrigo. What I notice is what a great season this is for cicidas. You can hear their defeaning chorus from the tree crowns, evern inside a car with the radio and air conditoining going. Their chorus is energy sapping, and it evokes a sense of heat. I can’t recall it being this hot this time of year in all the time I have lived on the north coast.

I arrive at the Dorrigo Showgrounds very early. It is cooler up the mountain, a little bit anyway. Runners turn up in dribs and drabs. An old bus in available to ship the runners up to the North Dorrigo store.

The bus winds up through though the green rolling hills of the Dorrigo basalt. There are cows grazing, and privets growing in copses along the road.  

Upon arrival at North Dorrigo there is a registration table set up on the sidewalk under the verandah of the North Dorrigo store. North Dorrigo is a small town with a few houses, an old petrol pump, a restuarant, and a timber store. It is surronded by rural hills of green.

I get my rego number and pin it on in the shelter of the restuarant with its small water feature, which provides a cool microlimate.

What I notice about the race director, the volunteers and the owner of the restuarant (who pours iced water into glass jugs) is the country friendliness. This race has a rustic rural charm.

The flies are friendly too and much more prolific than on the coast.

The 13km race goes first. I’m glad I’m not doing this race. The sun is already carving its mark into the bitumen.

The race.

9:00 am rolls around. A field of forty or so runners toe the line of the Tyringham road bitumen. I move to the outside to try and get a clear start.

Off we go, and a group of four teenage boyz go off like bunnies. The bunny boyz are dressed in black T-shirts, baseball caps and knee length board shorts. Obviously the fashion for the rural youth of Dorrigo, but not appropriate attire for a race in hot, humid conditions.

There is a Sudanese boy who goes rocketing past the Boyz. He’s flying. Coffs Harbour has a number of Sudanese refugees. There are a couple of Sudanese boys, one in Victoria, one for my old Sutho club, who are showing great promise as runners for their new country.

I tuck in with an Australian Mountain running champion, and a another blonde boy who looks like he can run a bit.

At about 800 metres, I go past the boyz, who are groaning in unison.

1km 4:05

Now the course starts going uphill, and continues to go up for three kms straight. This is a hilly brute of a course.  

At about 1.5km the Sudanese who was  leading by nearly one hundred metres, stops turns around and starts to walk.

2km 4:42

The Australian Mountain running rep is way ahead, and will win by a long way. The blonde haired boy catches his Sudanese friend and they encourage each other. The Sudanese boy continues to run gamely on. He obviously has some talent if he trains, and paces himself better.  

I don’t go past these two until three kilometres. I give them a quick ‘keep going’ as encouragement.

3km 4:43

Finally I hit a downhill stretch, and try to open up a little. It’s a good long downhill stretch into a gully.

4km 4:04

Up the other side is another long ascent. I just try to pace myself on these hills. I’m clearly second and under no pressure.  

5km 4:34

Eventually I crest a rise and I can see the Dorrigo township below. To the east is a long line of red vintage rail carriages at the Dorrigo railway museum.

6km 4:22

There is one more cruel ascent up to the Dorrigo showgrounds. The race runs around the grass outside the showgorunds. I almost get lost here, and run into an access road. An SES volunteer puts me right.

The winner of the 13km race goes past me here. We run along a footpath, and then turn right through the main gates of the showground. Then the run is funnelled into a corridor of start pickets with red tape.

I pass through two buildings and I wonder if  I have to run a lap around the equestrian area.

There are people standing around.

“Where do we go?” I ask.

“You’re finished,”  says a lady

“Thanks goodness for that,” says I.

I am handed a raffle ticket with a number and my time on it.

Post race.

I get some cool drinks and sit in the nice shade of some big trees.

Out on  the equestrian area, there is some dressage horse action going on.

“Last call for Gentleman Hats,” says the ground announcer, over and over again.

“No more gentlemen hats?”

“All right then, first call champion hats.” I have no idea what she is talking about, but I like the country ambience.

I fnished up coming 2nd overall 

6.5km. 28.18 

I won a pair of socks and a sack of potatoes for 1st in my age group. The guy that won was also in my age group, so he only got the outright win prize.

 

Skyrockets in flight afternoon delight

Off again on an afternoon/evening run. There was a strong north easter blowing which made the running conditions much more pleasant. Consequently I ran much better than some of my recent 16km runs in the heat and humidity.

The first 6km was slow and easy, but I picked up the pace to some quicker kilometres without conscious effort. If I concerntrate on my running form, striding long and easy, arms low and by my side, the extra pace come easy.

It felt more like one of the runs I did back in the cooler months of August.

16km 80.46 (5:33, 5:23, 5:08, 5:23, 5:19, 4:45, 5:11, 4:50, 4:59, 4:48, 4:48, 4:58, 5:05, 4:43, 4:58, 4:53)

Graphic flutterer, Fringed Lily & Wallum Bottlebrush

Afternoon run

I slept in this morning. My arms and elbows were itchy from mossie bites, and I scratced until about one in the morning. I slept through until 7:30.

So I was forced to run again after work. I did a 12km progression run. It was still about 25 degrees and the sun was still bright. I wound up pretty quickly from about kilometre two, and ran the first six quite hard.

12km (7.5 miles) 54:06 (4:56, 4:34, 4:27, 4:36, 4:31, 4:37, 4:16, 4:24, 4:33, 4:33, 4:22, 4:15) @ 4:31/km  7.13/mile

Last 10km 44:34 Last 5km 22:07

Green tree snake

Saw this snake on the trail today. It is a Green Snake, which is harmless. I went close to treading on the poor little critter.

20km run number 12

And I thought the worst was over

when my heart stopped beating again

Jebedaiah Feet Touch the Ground

Hard yards. These runs aren’t getting any easier. Took my water bottle and had a drink every 5kms. Still I slowed to a dawdle the last 5km, after going much more slowly the first 10km, which was just over 52 minutes.

I don’t feel all that confident about a good time in my half marathon in a fortnight, if conditions are like my last month 0f 2okm runs.

1 hour 45. 36 (5:41, 5:40, 5:07, 5:03, 5:03, 5:06, 5:14, 5:02, 4:58, 5:23, 5:02, 5:11, 5:05, 5:21, 5:15, 5:34, 5:29, 5:41, 6:02, 5:27)

I was even slower the last 5km than last week. That sort of 5km split really erodes my confidence. I hate this hot and humid weather. It’s not even summer yet.

Still the hard yards I’m doing now will benefit in a future race where the conditions suit me. In Coffs at summer time you just have to survive the horrible conditions and not expect any PRs until the weather cools some time in April.

They say Perth is hot. However I enjoyed training over there last christmas. If you get up early enough, it is still quite cool, and pleasant to run in, before the dry heat in the middle of the day.  Coffs Harbour is so stinking hot and humid, that you can’t sleep, and it is humid 24 hours around the clock.  Even in the middle of winter I had sweat running inot my eyes when I was running