A Worldly Experience: O’Brien Smith

To race at this event, athletes either successfully competed in a qualifying race or put forward their race results to be selected by a panel. The Australian team were notified about 7 weeks prior to the event, resulting in a quick build, or a re-shuffle of race schedules to compete at the World Championships. Representing your country is one of the highest honours in sport and is an achievement I dreamed about since primary school. I have run and played other sports competitively my whole life, but it is only in recent years that I have realised the extent of the hard work required to get to this level of the sport.

I recently pushed my physical boundaries, causing stress fractures in both femurs in early December. Unknowing at the time and thinking I had taper niggles, I ran the Ultra Trail Kosciuszko 100-mile and placed second in just under 20 hours. An off-season followed, filled with cross training, and a sensible build back to running (thanks Coach Corrie), just in time for Worlds.

The WMTRC event holds 4 separate races on different days: the Vertical (7km), Mountain Classic (15km), Short Trail (45km) and Long Trail (87km). I competed in the Long Trail event, but loved watching the shorter, speedier races in person, or on the big screens in the event hubs in the centre of town, surrounded by other athletes and cheering our teammates.

A few days before the start of the Long Trail race, we received official word that the course had changed. There were a few added kilometres and 1000m of elevation added to the original course. It was queried by the managers, but the cut off times remained unchanged.

On the morning of the Long Trail race, athletes had to report to the call room to have mandatory equipment and uniform thoroughly checked and to have any brand logos covered up. This was followed by a quick warm up, then we made our way to the start line, passing our running idols standing in the front rows. There were over 300 athletes in our race from various countries and the air was filled with nervous excitement. The start line faced the daunting first mountain we were about to run up, traverse across and run down again.

Leg 1: 0 to 18km

The gun went, and off we shot, along the river before starting up the first mountain. Into single file along the technical single track, with the sound of breathing and running poles hitting rocks and roots. The first climb took us to 2255m, before a 1200m descent down a super technical mountain that we spent a lot of time sliding down, interspersed with short sections of running. There was snow, then wet grass with hidden rocks, then tree roots in the forest sections. A lot of runners slid onto their butts in the wet grass and just kept sliding. I tripped on a rock, fell to my hands and knees, and slid down a few steep metres through grass before grabbing a tree to pull myself up. This is going to be a fun adventure, I laughed to myself, only 10 kilometres in. It felt like an adventure race, which was fine with me, I’m used to those, however I realised how tight the race cut off was if the course continued like the first leg. I headed into the first aid station in a rush, with our Australian team manager Adam handing me bottles and nutrition and sending me on my way. This is fun, but slow going, I told Adam, and he told me a lot of people were behind their estimated times already.

Leg 2: 18 to 42km

Straight out of the aid and into the biggest climb of the course, around 1400m of elevation gain over 7km. It was deceptive, because I thought I could see the highest point, but when I got near it, there was another peak behind it, with a string of ants (people) that were much, much higher up. My heart sank a little. The Perth hills do not deserve the title ‘hills’, I decided during this section. Near the top, I noticed a runner higher up on a different single track than the other ants above me. I yelled out to her that she was off course, and she looked down to find where the voice was coming from. A few hundred metres away from her, I waved my arms and yelled again, OI! You’re off course! and pointed at the ants across the mountain. She got the message and got back on track. I caught up to her shortly after and she thanked me in her Irish accent. She then recognised me; we ran part of the UTMB CCC race together last year. The people you meet on mountaintops! We continued across the top of the mountain, choosing foot placements carefully to avoid slipping down the edge of the mountain on the loose rock we were running on. A quick intermediate aid station where I filled my bottles with some unknown electrolyte drink (wouldn’t recommend) and turned down the mountain, following the line of the cable cars the wiser people were taking. I worked with a runner from Latvia, who told me it’s completely flat where she came from, and we bonded over our flat training grounds.

As you’ll see in the course profile, from 30 to 42km was 12km of mountain climbs and descents. In the course profile I drew the night before on a piece of paper, this section was pretty much flat, with some small wiggles. My goodness were those small wiggles steep. I got annoyed with the climb to the next aid station at the top of a ski slope, thinking it wasn’t meant to be there in the course profile in my mind. I was buoyed by the fact I was passing people, even some European runners. But time was ticking, and I was going to be close to the cut off time to get to the aid. I had to work hard to get to the top, pushing hard on my poles, getting food in, quickly filling bottles in waterfalls, and trying to jog through the snow sections. Near the top, I called down the mountain to my Australian teammate “go Hayley, 12 minutes until cut off!” I made it to the aid with 10 minutes to spare, a very small buffer. Some of the Australian men were crewing us here and I was so happy to see their faces and for their support. They told me I could do it, and to get going.

Leg 3: 42 – 66km

Slipping through the snow back down the mountain, followed by tight, quad-busting switchbacks. I came across my Aussie teammate Sarah at the bottom, who was injured. There wasn’t anything I had in my Physio bag of tricks that could help her continue, and she told me to finish the race for her – way to motivate me, Sarah. Another steep, technical, rocky climb where I could squint up and see the ants at the top. Then came the 19km descent, the longest I’ve ever done, and a true test of muscular endurance. It should be noted that it wasn’t just a fire trail down the side of the mountain – it was single track, near-vertical switchbacks, with rocks and roots pulling at your ankles, trying to catch you out. Every step of the way you had to work for, and there was no switching off. I was keeping an eye on the time, knowing the cut off was tight, and that nearly everyone I was passing was going to get timed out. I caught up to a runner in the USA uniform, and realised it was Clare Gallagher, Western States, Leadville and UTMB CCC winner, amongst other huge achievements. Hi Clare, I’m also Claire, I said, wondering why Clare Gallagher was walking. She asked about the cut off times and I told her it was tight, and she needed to RUN. We pushed to the next aid station, and I came in 10 minutes under the cut off again (and the only time I’ll ever beat Clare Gallagher). My support team ran a Formula 1 pit stop and suddenly I was back out again running, with them convincingly telling me to give it everything.

Leg 4: 66 – 87km

Up the final climb, sharing positivity and kilometres as team Clare and Claire. We figured we had 21km to cover in 3 hours, but with a 1000m climb to conquer first. Caffeine time, head down and push hard. Near the top of the climb, we saw medics with other runners who weren’t going to finish. My stubbornness kicked in at this point, and I decided I was going to make it no matter what. If I didn’t make the cut off in time, I’d finish anyway, and if anyone tried to force me off the course, well they would have to catch me first. That amused me for a few kilometres, imagining the officials and mountain medics chasing a rogue Aussie down the mountain. There were sections here with signs stating “technical section – caution”, but I didn’t have time to walk, and just had to run across the rock sections with my poles out for balance. There was one last intermediate aid station that I didn’t stop at, or even look at, for fear of being pulled off the course, I just ran straight past. I had to give it everything I had to get down the mountain before 9:30pm. It felt like I was running in a Tuesday interval session, but without any rest breaks. I just hoped my quads held on and I’d worked hard enough in the gym this year. My legs complied and I made it down the mountain and onto the streets, still pumping my arms hard, through the finishing chute. I crossed the line within the cut off, placing 66^th female. Half of the women’s field and many men did not finish.

The finish line. Photograph – Supplied.

I was happy and so proud to make it into the team; I have always wanted to represent Australia. I didn’t expect to bond so well with the other Aussie runners, and I have now made friendships for life. It was a huge bonus to make new friends who understood the commitment to training, the lack of toenails, and the need for Coke during ultras. I’m now back at work, back training and still trying to process the course and the trip, as well as the mental and physical strength I found to finish the race. Next up in September, another massive challenge – Ultra Trail du Mont Blanc (UTMB), 170km with 10,000m of elevation. More mountain memories to come for this flatlander.