It started as a bit of a joke.

2013 marked the year that my husband and I were going to make the most of every single long weekend that came around and get out of the state or even out of the country. We had just that week finished the 50km national championships in Centennial park and had pulled up so well that our Physio jokingly mentioned that we could go again in a couple of weeks if we wanted…..hmmmm Silly physio.

So when a recruit of ours mentioned that labor day was coming up, I immediately got onto the net and looked at where we could go for 4 days…Where could we go where there was an ultra marathon different to track, road and trail? We stumbled across London…but the entries were closed and we figured that we wouldn’t want the jet lag of flying that far, running, and flying back out. Too expensive too. However, the race officials offered us a media pass for 2014…so it may well be on the list for next time. Then we got it into our heads that if we had any inclination to travel to London, which we would have done if the race entries had still be open….then we were willing to go anywhere in the world. Jim then showed me the Hunter Gatherer. After reading up on the fact that it claimed, “you will not finish” we were set. Who doesn’t love a dare? If we were going to fly half way across the world for a race…then we wanted the biggest challenge that we could find. There was nothing that was going to stop us from getting to this race.

So with 2 weeks prep time we began. We had a week off after our Centennial Park 50km and set about training with a hydration pack on for the remaining 9 days before we would head off to Texas.

Neither of us believes that long distance training is the most important thing in preparation for any race, so we worked on speed, power and heat. 5 training runs all up, not one of them more than 14kms. Making sure they each session was during the sunniest and hottest part of the day. We finished training on the 1st of October with a coast run from Coogee to Bondi and back and worked on carb loading and hydration from that point in.

The longest plane ride in the world…..Sydney to Dallas, then Dallas to San Antonio where our Luggage didn’t make it until the following day was tiring to say the least. But we were there, and we were ready. I think the best part was that we didn’t know what to expect. We knew that it was going to be tough. We just had no idea of just HOW tough.

After a lengthy sleep in and no breakfast, we checked out of our hotel and went in search of running tees, sunglasses and shoes…all of which we had forgotten in our haste to pack. By 2pm the day before the race, we realised that although hydration had been at the top of our priority list, we hadn’t eaten yet, so off to Wal-Mart it was for 2 loaves of bread. One honey wheat for Jim and one disgusting and stale gluten free for me. Hello sawdust. How delightful you taste. Plastering it with “I can’t believe its not butter” I prepared half a loaf each while Jim drove and we ate along the way.

Approaching Camp eagle was exciting. The roads had become gravelly and dusty as we got closer to our destination…and as we drew closer we could see the buzzards and eagles flying in circles above different areas and different horror stories started, one line at a time, becoming more and more horrifying as we drove along. We hit silence when we saw our first person….they were carrying a HUGE log on their shoulders and looked completely knackered. As we drove past, they waved and smiled….WE WERE HERE!!! THIS WAS IT!! The stories we were creating in the car grew more and more paranoid, “What if we were a day late and these guys were finishing up now!”??? But as we found out as we drew closer to the cabins and passed many more of these inspiring and crazy people, all carrying logs equal to half their body weight…(they had to do that to have the honour of picking up their race pack. Hats off to them immediately and I thanked the heavens that we had just a nice run in front of us. Little did I know) that we weren’t and had plenty of time that afternoon for a reccy and re-fuel.

As we arrived at check in we were greeted by a few people at the table who seemed amused by our accents. Who wouldn’t be? I’m guessing there aren’t too many Aussies in Rocksprings, Texas right? We checked into our room and immediately headed out to scope out the land. It’s beautiful out there. The perfect place for TLD 2014 and every beastly workout we could imagine. Zip lines, rivers, Inclines, suspension bridges. The list goes on. We picked up our race packs and said hi to a few of the other racers. Not a lot of people around. So we went to our room to check our race gear and lay everything out for the following morning. We had been told that our start time had been moved to 4:30am so we were thankful for the extra sleep time ahead of us. It was about 7pm by the time we decided to go and get some dinner, during which we met the race organiser Josue Stephens. Such a pleasure and even through his smile…. I could tell he was an evil mastermind. Ahhh Kindred spirits. We felt right at home there and then. Bring on tomorrow morning.

Absolutely NO sleep that night. I don’t know if it was excitement or nerves, but I didn’t sleep a wink. I was thinking about all of the terrains that could be out there. What would I see? How would I do? Would I get close to the 7-8 hours that they expected the first runner in? Would I be last? OMG don’t let me be last. I hoped I wouldn’t fall asleep at the last minute and miss my alarm. I set 3 more on my phone, Ipad and Jim’s phone just to be sure. Didn’t matter because we lay awake until 3am when we got up, dressed and went out for check in. We were told that our start time was now 5am due to something that had happened overnight. I didn’t find out until later that the man that had gone out to mark the track the night before hadn’t returned until 3:45am and that they were preparing to cancel the race. Thank goodness he was ok – and yes he proved himself to be another evil mastermind.

We watched the Survival people start making their sandals and off they went, although when our starting mark went at 5am there were still a few of them cutting away to get them just right. I was in the midst of trying to tie my pack on which had come untied somehow, set my GPS, turn on my headlamp, check my shoelaces and my iPod all in a space of 30 seconds. In the end I went for the jacket. Most important. Without that I wouldn’t be moving.

Then we were off…. I shot out the door closely behind Jim knowing that if I stayed close to him I could use his light to work our why mine wasn’t on yet. I also knew I had about 1 minute before he was way too far in front of me. I got it fixed pretty quick, jammed my headphones into my ears and pressed my lock button on my watch. Before the music blasted through the last thing I heard from behind us was “Oh my goodness, why are they heading out so fast! Slow down!”…Not my tactics. We have one speed. Go as fast as you can for as long as you can….and then keep going. And by the looks of the land we would be lucky to have runnable ground for 1km so I was going to make the most of it while I could. As I ran along the road away from the lights and into the darkness, I passed several of the survival athletes. I gave each of them a “Nice work” “Well done” or “you guys are amazing” as I passed and soon came to a small decline in the road where there were a few centimetres of running water from the creek. I jumped from stone to stone to get across not wanting to get my shoes wet right at the start before I noticed that each of the stones I was stepping on were dry….that meant that Jim and gone straight through. That shook me up as I figured that the man was always in the lead for a reason, so I took a leaf from his book and ran through the remaining metres of water. Soon enough I turned off to the right and saw an incline it wasn’t too steep but there were plenty of people walking. I guessed that they had a much better idea than me of what was at the top but I didn’t want to slow down just yet. Not while I still had the energy of a full packet of chocolate chip cookies in my belly (the breakfast of champions).

At the top there were a few of the survivalists hoisting their logs onto their shoulders and hauling them down what I thought to be a really steep decline along a fence line. I’m talking “hold onto a branch or fence steep”… I overtook when I could, politely letting each of them know that I was passing. They stepped out of the way when there was no way around them and I called my thanks out along with plenty of admiration and praise for what they were putting themselves through. One of them was smaller than me and she was well on her way down that track and moving with purpose. As I got to the bottom of the decline I almost ran into a bunch of people that had put down their logs and were tying life vests to them. A volunteer cam over to me and pointed across the river at a green lume. The only light visible…..that and the moon on the river nueces….“what you need to do is get across there – straight over”…I looked at her and asked “Is it deep?” she replied with a “not so much” so in I went. It was fine and actually quite refreshing. I gave up any thought of having to deal with wet shoes and decided there and then I was all in. I ploughed through the water feeling quite proud of myself for not pausing to think about it and promptly made my first face plant. It was spectacular – face first but lucky enough only up to waist height. Ipod safe. Headlamp still on head. Pride intact. I stood up and kept running. It got deeper. Waist…then chest. My legs got wrapped up in duckweed that felt awfully in my mind like zombie hands reaching up through the black water. I jumped out the other side and set about my running pace again. It was flat rock so I knew my shoes would empty of water soon. Brand new rainbow colored New balance trainers that I had only bought the day before – now black with river mud. Oh well. I had bigger issues now.

As I ran along the bank, singing along to my music I glanced behind me and saw no lights at all. Nothing. I was in the dark. Jim was gone. Long gone as far as I could tell and I couldn’t’ recall anybody overtaking me. This was a first. I had never been in the lead before. It was pitch black though so I could be wrong….I thought about it for all of 3 seconds and then ran as fast as I could along the track creating as big of a lead as I thought possible. I kept running at a decent pace and saw a light over the river. A pack was on the side of the bank and I stopped to check that nobody had fallen or been hurt. I heard a yell – “WOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! GET GOING YOUR DOING GREAT!!!” and figured maybe it was a volunteer on the water or somebody with a camera to catch the survival athletes in action. I knew they had a river swim to complete. As I turned and ran off the headphones were ripped from my ears and my Ipod sacrificed to the running gods. I looked back and knew it would take me a while to find it in the dark and made the decision there and then that it wasn’t worth it. I was in 2nd place and there was no way I was going to jeopardise that for some music. Screw that.

Off I ran, up a flight of stairs and off to the left. It was pitch black and all I could see was what was right in front of me from the headlamp. Shadows formed around me as I passed a submarine that was sitting on the side of the track. To the right of me two monkey like animals shuffled like pensioners across my path. “There aren’t monkeys in Texas!” I said out loud. But maybe there were? Who knows? I would ask at the checkpoint. Hopefully they wouldn’t chase me there. Monkeys are the only animals that scare me. It was about 1km after that that I saw the dog. Or what I told myself was a dog. He was beautiful and not too big. The size of a collie and just watching me run….as I drew closer I saw the bright eyes in the reflection of my headlamp and told myself that coyotes don’t chase people….its a dog anyway. It ran along side me…about 4-5 metres in front for a bit and I watched its flank as it ran just out of the full light of my headlamp. It veered off the to the left and I could hear it in the scrub. Still running. I sang out loud. I wasn’t scared but I thought if I could talk then I wouldn’t be alone with this. Whatever it was. Not 3-4 mins later he or she darted across my path and I didn’t hear him again for a while.

I came to my first checkpoint in the dark and two men asked me my number. I called it out and asked if another guy had run through. They said yes – 8 mins or so ago. I knew it was Jim and it filled me with happiness that I wasn’t too far behind yet. I mentioned the dog and the monkeys to them as I ran through and they looked at me with a quizzical look on their faces….I’m guessing because I should have said Coyote or wolf…..it wasn’t a dog. That’s when the inclines, declines and rugged paths started. I stood on my first cactus. It was the soft kind…the one with the invisible spikes that you can’t see to save your life. They went into my shoe on all angles and I knew that no amount of removing and retying of my shoes would get rid of them, and it was just part and parcel of the race. How in the hell did the guys in sandals do this? By this time I knew I had to start eating and drinking. I figured I was about 10kms in and didn’t want to leave it too late. I knew once the sun came up that I would be stuffed. I looked down at my watch and realised that during my elegant and graceful river face plant that I hadn’t locked it and had no concept of how far in I was. It would have to be based on leg pain and my bones. I had a fair idea that my hips would hold up until the 30km point that is usually where the big time pain sets in….and at that point I was relatively fresh so it must have been about 10kms. I grabbed two of my goo jellies (thank goodness for waterproof pouches) and munched on them….grabbed 2 hammer salt pills and took two large gulps from my hydration. There we go. Good start. I have always left it too late to get started on these things in previous races and have sometimes been threatened with disqualification if I didn’t drink something. So down the hatch it went. I fell over. Again. And again. So the run became a march/shuffle. When I couldn’t run at pace, I ran and shuffled. I would not walk. No way. It wasn’t going to happen. Up the hill. It was a big one. Covered in soft limestone, granite, crumbling twigs and cactus of all sizes…..When I got to the top the stars were all I could see. Plenty of cloud up there too which I hoped would stick around, but lots of stars. I fell over again. Serve me right for trying to appreciate nature during a race. Then I fell again. Paranoid that there were people right behind me just waiting for me to fall behind I ran again and kept getting myself up off the ground each time I fell. Blood? Meh – part and parcel. Off I went, trying to pull cactus spikes out of my hand and singing as I went. Keep a pace…..keep a pace. If I sang I had a beat. If I had a beat then I couldn’t walk. So I sang.

My “Dog” appeared again. Maybe it was my singing that sounded like howling, who knows, but I saw the eyes before I saw him. They reflected in my headlamp and it was a good feeling. I wasn’t scared. It was the same animal. Obviously interested and nothing more. I watched as he or she slunk across my path and ran on my left side. I wasn’t going too fast at this point and I figured that if I was prey…I would be gone by now. All the same I kept my hands at the ready, wishing I had one of the knives I had seen on the hips of the survival athletes. My wolf/dog/coyote disappeared again and I was alone. I came to another road…a blessing. Any flattish ground was going to be a good thing. I knew by this stage that there wasn’t going to be much of it so I was going to use it when it was there to cover as much ground in as little time as possible. It was the yellow tape that stopped me. I looked to my right for a reflective tag and saw it hanging from a nearby tree. I started moving…..not running but not walking. It was so dark – I needed to be sensible about this. We were going off track and from the last incline I knew that I was at the top of a steep bluff and that any wrong steps could mean bad things. I kept moving and saw another reflector. Off I went. Down the decline of untouched bushland, trees and shrubs for a few minutes and I made the mistake of letting my mind wander to the animal that had run with me. It took a minute or so before I realise that I hadn’t seen a reflective tag in a few mins…I stopped. The silence was deafening. I saw a light and heard some branches move. Looking down I saw another tag., THANK GOODNESS. I followed it promising myself I wouldn’t let my mind be on anything but the task in front of me. I didn’t want to get lost.

Needless to say. I then proceeded to get very very lost. I hadn’t seen a tag in another few minutes and worked my way back towards where I thought I had come from. Nope. No reflectors. I went back to where I just came from and put two small branches in an “x” on the ground in the middle of the path. That way I would know if I had been that way yet. I walked back looking in all directions for a tag or ribbon. Nothing. Back I went. I went back and forth – then I saw one. It was around a corner. On a bush. I went that way and followed a few more before I lost them again. After about 10 mins of additional faffing about and looking for tags I saw the headlamp again and heard “FUCK!”….. It couldn’t be. I got closer. It was. My first words to my husband were “don’t tell me you are fucking lost!” He looked at me and said “Yes and I’ve been going round and round in circles and back and forth looking for the tag for the last 20 minutes!” We stopped and looked at each other. One of my many talents is not map reading. I once drove us to Canada when we were heading for NYC…because I had the map upside down. But take away the map. Take away any help and I am a homing pigeon. We turned and I fell straight away. I felt my sunglasses slip out of my pack and hit something beneath me. Another sacrifice to the race gods.

We moved. Back along the path until we reached a tag. With two sets of eyes it was a lot easier to spot them. We made our way through together out of breath and marching at a jogging pace. Move move move. We have wasted too much time! If getting lost loses our lead were going to be pissed at ourselves. A good 15-20 mins later after crawling on all 4’s up an incline, sometimes on our guts under bushes following the reflectors we found ourselves at the top and I called out to Jim “MOVE – I’ll see you at the end” – he ran off. He knows that waiting for me or coming back to me – are never an option. GO GO GO!!! I found a jagged path marked out and started to follow it. And fell. Again. And again. I slowed down a tiny bit and reset my headlamp – keep moving Hames. You have no choice – they have all probably passed you by now – you have catching up to do. And off I ran. Blood on my hands, on my legs and in my hair from a particularly nasty branch that had housed a spider I tried to dodge. Note to self. Don’t do that again. They aren’t Australian spiders so you should be ok. It’s the wolf that might kill you. I grabbed out 2 more jellies and another salt pill, two big gulps on the move. MOVE HAMES MOVE. Inclines and declines. Too many to count. I got to the top of the next one where there was a windmill of sorts and a couple of volunteers. “Heeeey!” I like to be as cheery as possible to volunteers. People that give their time to this are a remarkable sort. “Did a man run through yet?” yes they called – about 10 -15 mins ago! “That’s my husband….I gotta catch him! – was there anybody else? “Nope” was the reply. I couldn’t believe it. How had nobody overtaken us! We had taken so long. It had felt like years. No time to stop and think – do it on the move…. And off I went trying to pick my trot up to a speedy pace. And I fell. Again. The rocks crumbled beneath my shoes, some soft which meant you tripped if it didn’t crumble. The cactus looked like rocks. Branches, rotten and alive strewn along the pathways. Little to none of these had been run on before. It was all brand new.

We call it bush-whacking in Australia. Untouched ground. Raw. Up and down – the next decline was so steep I didn’t know were to start but figured – the tags are there for a reason. Stay as close to them as you can. It took me down the decline alongside the fence of which I grabbed several times. Half of the soul on my left shoe tore and flapped with every step. I made it to the bottom of the hill/mountain and reached down. Filled my hand with fresh cactus spikes and ripped off part of my shoe. If they could do it in sandals then I could take a teaspoon of cement and harden the f&$k up. ¾ of a shoe is more than a sandal. Suck it up Hames. MOVE. Up I went again. Still dark. Still silent. I could hear my own breathing and thought that it was somebody right behind me. They were all gaining on me in my mind and I was never going to be able to stay in front. But that’s all I wanted. I wanted to keep this lead and I wouldn’t walk.

I popped another couple of jellies and had a couple of sips of my hydration. I stood for a moment at the top of this ridiculously high hill and looked back and where I had come from. Half expecting my overactive imagination to see a hoarde of zombies charging down the hill after me. But nobody. Nothing and nobody. Empty and deafening silence.

As I neared the next flatter part I heard a rustle in the bushes. A heard of deer startled by me started to run. I couldn’t see them. Not clearly, just legs and heads. Then a huge doe darted out to the side and away from the pack – she ran along side me – not 2-3 metres away. I felt like I could reach out and touch her and I prayed that I wouldn’t fall at this very moment. I ran…..for 20-30 metres I ran….i didn’t change pace for fear of loosing sight of her. She was magnificent. Larger than a small pony she had a spotted flank and was a gorgeous shade of orangey brown. Her eyeball turned and looked and me for a moment before she darted back off into her herd. I heard a crash and assumed that they had run into the fence, I didn’t know how many of them there were, but as she ran off I called “thankyou” very softly. She was beautiful and I thought that if I didn’t make it to the end of the race, that moment had made the travel time half way across the globe worth it. Every darn second.

I ran – and as I came down the next hill I heard voices. The sun had broken and it was lighter now but I kept my headlamp on. It was easier to see the reflectors with it on and I couldn’t feel it for the most part. As I rounded the corner I spotted two tee-pees and some people. A lady in a boot was there that I recognised from the organisers and she called out to me. I called back hey and they asked for my number. I called it back and the lady asked if I wanted any of my stuff. I couldn’t figure out what she meant and looked to where she was pointing. There was my halfway pack. This couldn’t be halfway! I kept jogging and asked if my husband had run through and the lady said “yes, and he said to tell you that he is SO proud of you”….my heart swelled and she asked me again, “do you want your stuff”. I reached behind me and felt my pack – it was still more than half full….i had been calculated about how much I was drinking and figured that this couldn’t possibly be halfway. I asked her “is this halfway???” she answered with its 15.87!….Ah I thought…there you go. 15kms in no wonder I’m not tired yet! Boom. I don’t need anything. But man I must be moving slowly. I answered here with a no thanks I’m fine. She looked at me as I jogged towards the hill and said “are you sure?” “yep” was my answer and off up another steep incline I went. It turned out to be a darn big incline to which when I got to the top I felt the need for a few sips and some jellies.

My breathing sounded like I was about to cough up a lung and then I proceeded to fall over smashing my knee on the rocks and straight into a cactus patch. My knee swelled up straight away. The cactus were scattered everywhere so I wasn’t surprised. By this stage my shoes were filled with small shards and my toes pinned in place inside my shoes by cactus barbs of various lengths and biteyness. I had decided a few kms back that there was no point in trying to take off my shoes whenever there was something in them…and that the pain in my feet was the least of my worries. There was much more to come. I stood up willing myself not to cry – nobody could hear me anyway and it was only blood. No broken bones as far as I could tell. Just a knee cap twice the size. Lots of blood. However, as I stood up, I distinctly remember thinking – “ahhhhh so this is what it feels like to tear your calf muscle”… and then swore a little bit when I couldn’t put any weight on it or bend my knee. I looked down and was surprised to see a longish, maybe 10cm barb like a very skinny knitting needle sticking out of my calf, along with about 5 other smaller ones in various positions up my calf and shin. Well there it is…that’s why I can’t move. Not thinking too much about it and channelling my inner bear grylls, I grabbed the end and pulled it sharply out – not realising how deep into the meat of my muscle it was. Blood burst out following it and I thought that if it didn’t stop in a matter of 10 seconds or so I would have to trek back down to the last marker and see about first aid. I applied pressure and removed my thumb from the small hole in my leg and it really didn’t look so bad after that so off I trotted. Being a little more careful after that. Toes neatly pinned to my shoes after the cactus drop I figured at least they would stay on?

I don’t remember much after this other that up and down, up and down. It got to the point where all I wish for was an incline. The declines were so steep they worried me more than the climbs and even with so much more effort into climbing I felt safer going up than down. I followed a creek bed full of jarring rocks, jagged edges and animal burrows…there were many many MANY of these. Each worse than the previous.

I Climbed over and under and continued to move along and heard a sound behind me. I jumped and started moving faster, absolutely convinced that it was the next runner, picking up my lead and taking advantage of my ridiculous amounts of falls and stumbles. Along the river bed lasted for a while, I stepped in too many holes to count and saw lots of wildlife which made everything even more amazing to me. Any animal, no matter how scary it may be, seemed to be urging me to move and not give in. Except the spiders. They wanted me to DIE.

I started climbing and climbing on my hands and feet following the markers until I reached a sheer rock face. I looked down and around for another tag……and up. And realised that there was only one way to move and that was up. I’m not great with heights so it had me for a nano second, but all I could think was that Jim had been there not long before me and he hadn’t fallen (I glanced down to the bottom of the climb just to check for any unconscious husbands). So off I climbed. And it wasn’t as scary as I would imagine. I swore a few times as a nail ripped off in reaching for a foothold that didn’t “hold”. But popped my head over the top and saw a cabin. A man with a camera looked very surprised, either by my swearwords, or the fact that somebody was hoisting themselves up over the rocks. I smiled at him and he asked me if I was the Aussie. “Yes! Has my husband come through yet?” he smiled and took a few photos of me getting to my feet and said “yes he did and he said to tell you that you are doing amazing and he thinks you are crazy!”. Aw. I melted a little. The man on the cabin balcony then said, “You know you are in second place?! Well done!” I grinned and said to him “I am happy for now – Now I have to kick my butt and try and stay in second place!” he laughed and the girl asked me if I wanted any water. I looked over at a bathtub full of greenish water and felt around my pack to see what my rations were like. I could hold out. Regardless of how good my purifier was, I don’t think I would ever stop having nightmares if I guzzled any of that mosquito larva down. I can do without. I would make sure I rationed better.

I headed off at a trot with a goodbye to the lovely people at the cabin and went up and to the left, following the markers whenever I saw them. I had never done a race like this before but I figured if there was a trail to follow or markings like a road, then the tags may be further apart than in the scrubland. It took a while, weaving tracks and listening to herds of deer crash into a fence line close by. The sound of my feet on the rocks and gravel created a beat in my head and I sang some songs under my breath to keep moving at pace. “Remember Hamesey – if you can’t run, you march, but running will keep you up front for a lot longer. If they are going to get you, they are going to get you right at the end when you are tired and have nothing left. So get your lead in fast and now.” I ran. Or what I thought at the time was fast enough to be called a run. The thought of actually calling placing in what was turning out to be the toughest thing I had ever done was slowly dawning on me and it encouraged me to pick up my pace. I came to a zigzag area where I lost any recollection of seeing any tags. I jogged back until I found one then I stood still and listened to the silence. Only for a few seconds while I got my bearings. I looked around. Nope, I was still on a track, so I must have missed something important. I started running again. Keeping a closer eye on shrubs and bushes around me so I wouldn’t miss any markers. Again. I MISSED IT. I turned back and went to the last marker. I looked around. Nope – I was going the right way. It was a track and it was a marker clearly marking that I was going in the right direction. I trotted off again and got to exactly the same place. I sat down and kicked off my shoes. The rocks and cactus spikes were just annoying the crap out of me now and adding insult to injury of being lost, I wanted a moment to not feel pain in my feet.

As I took my shoes off and shook out the debris, I said out loud “I don’t care which one of you is going to help me, one of you is clearly watching or I wouldn’t have gotten this far, this fast. So HELP ME OUT!!!! Show me a sign. A tag. A path. ANYTHING FOR GODS SAKE!” (I swore a lot. Really loud here). I put my shoes on and tied them. Pulled the cactus out of my thumb and stood up. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I opened my eyes…..looked around and walked back a bit to look at what I thought was the end of the path. IT TURNED!!!! I had completely missed it 3 times! But it turned; I ran around the end and immediately saw another marker. I was on my way again. I laughed out loud at my stupidity and wondered if Jim had any trouble at that spot either. I called out a loud thankyou to whatever clarity had popped into my mind.

As I ran I cam to a clearing…all of a sudden there were two people at a cabin! They cheered at me and as I ran past I pointed in the direction I knew I had to head just to be sure. They nodded and asked me if I wanted any electrolytes…. Silly me though WATER!!! HELLS YEAH! And said yes please. They handed me a bar. I can’t eat and run, I had already proved this with the calf incident. I grabbed them and said thankyou anyway and as I ran off I called out “has another guy run through her yet?” the male volunteer said “yep! Your husband – he was bookin it too! Only 5 miles or so to go, so go catch him!”….

That was all I needed. I figured I hadn’t even passed half way yet and I “booked it” too. Picked up my pace and passed some shrubbery where I could see the office where I originally checked in only 14 hours previously. Off and up a path – onto some winding track that were clearly marked, all the while trying to count in my head what 5 miles was. I was sure it was around 8.5 kms and only figured out then that the lady that offered me my stuff, just before I corked my calf meant 15.87 MILES –not kms. Duh Hames. Get with the metric. I was almost out of hydration but didn’t really care at this point. 5 miles is a walk in the park, I wasn’t too sore and hadn’t had a chance for the thought of actually finishing this in the next 45 mins to pop into my mind. I ran with new spring in my step. Up and down and winding paths. I tripped and stumbled in true Hames fashion and a couple of mountain bike riders zipped past me in the opposite direction. Not long after they came back down the hill on the winding track and I called out that I couldn’t stop or I wouldn’t be able to start again, but that they are welcome to go around me. Around me they went calling out well wishes as they went. As the winding tracks continued and the markers were sparser I wondered what would be in store for the final 4-5 miles. It would have to be tougher than this. They had given me an obvious trail…not many rocks and I was making good time.

Then I saw the incline. And off I went. It was never ending. I couldn’t run up parts as the rocks fell apart under my feet and I ended up sliding backwards as fast as I was moving forwards…Hands and feet bearcrawling up and grabbing at whatever would help me up….I continued at a march/jog. It hurt. I didn’t slow down – the march always turns out to be as fast as my Ultra run pace on an uphill so I was out of breathe and gasping for a drink. I reached the top and popped a salt pill and guzzled the rest of my water. It didn’t matter I was almost there. I reached the top and saw a 4wd – two women were talking to each other and as I got closer they called for my number. I called our 78 and asked how much further? They didn’t know so I pressed on.

Winding trails…I knew I would end up going down and seeing that I had come up so far so kept pushing as fast as I could. It was almost done. I couldn’t believe it! I came to a clearing at the top of the incline after all the turns and there was a giant cross overlooking the whole camp. I stood for about 5 seconds, wanting to take in all of the beauty and keep it in my memory. I could see it was downhill from here but had no concept of how far. I ran off doing everything I had ever taught myself not to do. Running down this hill heel first. It hurt my knees and all I could think was that my physio would not be happy with me…. And then I smiled. There was a road. And I knew where I was. I rounded a corner past a large tree. The tallest and greenest tree I had seen in a while and looked up the desert road. It was safe to run as fast as I could and cover as much time as possible while it was flattish. I wondered if there were any tricks…and that there might be a U-turn up ahead with another 5km flat run up and back. And then I saw Jim. He jumped to his feet – had been sitting on the side of the road with the camera. And that’s when I started to run like I had another sprint in me. If he was there – that was the end. All I had to do was get to the pavilion!

I ran – he cheered, he called out to push as fast as I could and finish strong. There was no doubt in my mind that that was exactly what I was going to do. I ran up the road, into the car park, past our room and into the pavilion….

I crossed the finish line at 6 hours and 40 minutes (52 minutes behind Jim). The enormity of it hit me as Paula placed the finishing medal around my neck. I looked around but it was just me, Jim, Paula and Zac. Standing under the start/finish banner all with ridiculous grins on our faces. I had won my first ultra marathon. Something I dreamed of working up to. I never thought that something this far out of my league, Something this tough and something that put me so far out of my princess comfort zone would be it. The one that I not only placed first. But placed 2nd overall. Just behind my running hero. I then burst into happy tears and for the first time after a race, said “OH MY GOD THAT WAS AMAZING! WE HAVE TO DO IT AGAIN!”

I started running in winter of 2012. I had decided that I needed something. I didn’t know what. But I needed to be taken seriously. By the fitness industry and moreso by myself. I had never run more than 21kms and that was to keep a friend company. It was just so boring. I entered my first ultra marathon in September of 2012 and placed 2nd. My goal was not to walk, and not to come last. In November of that same year I entered the State track championships in Moe, Vic. I had the worst flu I could remember and at one point saw double tracks. I placed second again in the women’s and 3rd in the 6 hour event. It wasn’t until January of 2013 that my spinal injuries and bone marrow oedema were discovered when I couldn’t walk. It took many months of physical therapy and cortisone injections to even feel remotely ok with the pain.

I didn’t train at all until June 2013… When I was told that I would never run again. I had such extensive injuries that amounted over the years that my MRI and scans showed too much damage to be able to do what I do. I run. And I was told that I couldn’t any more. I had a ruptured disc, and a bulging disc pressing on my S1 nerve. I could have injections or surgery but even then, that wouldn’t give me any real hope of running again. What I could do in sport just didn’t correlate to what the doctors and physios saw in my CT and MRI scans. I made a decision. I could deal with the pain. I have had it for so long that it feels like a part of me. The worst thing I did was to get the cortisone injection because for a small window of time it took the pain away. Pain that I have spend 15 years getting used to. I don’t mind it. Its there. I know what it is. I can deal with it. But when its taken away and then given back…..you forget how to deal with it.

I’m fine with that ache now – but it took a while to get back there. To deal with the aftermath of exercise. I adapted. I started training again in late June. Just a couple of 6km jogs. Nothing fast. No more that 2 runs a week. Rest days were more important. 100 pushups a day when I couldn’t run. In July I told myself that if I could run 21kms on my birthday (August 9th) then I would be able to participate in the National 50km championships in Centennial Park. I pushed through. No more the 2-3 runs per week. No further than 12-15kms at a time. Pushing for speed and power. Not distance. My 36th birthday arrived and I cracked out my 21kms. It was a victory and I knew that mentally I was able to get 50kms under my belt. Now I just had to convince my body. I stuck with the no more than 2-3 runs per week and kept them low. No more than 15kms at a time. Body weight squats and pushups.

In the last week of august we went away to Hawaii. The night before we left, we did 22kms through Sydney with 25 of our clients. In Hawaii we did 2 runs of 21kms to the crater at Diamond Head and back to our hotel. Small victories. And on September 2nd I put myself on the centennial track and ran out a 30km. My physio played a huge role in making sure that I was prepared and ready for the 50kms in Sydney. And when I ran, although I only placed 7th I cut 10 mins off my time from last year. VICTORY!

Two days later we were at the physio to see just how much damage I had done during this race and Andréa said those magic words to me. “Gunny – you are a freak. You could go again in a week or so if you really wanted! I just don’t get you!” And that’s how we got to Texas.

The rest was Google and Michelle (My flight lady). Once we had our sights set on the hunter-gatherer, there was no way we weren’t going to make it. Less than 2 weeks later we were on a flight to Dallas. The best money I ever spent. The people that know me best know that I won’t ever be told what I can and can’t do. I never accepted that. I have only just begun. The Hunter Gatherer opened my eyes…….. What’s next Josue? BRING IT!