#alphabeticalchallenge

[hutz224]

Zeroing in on Zillmere

6 March 2021 - alphabetical blog #25

So finally, it came to this. After 24 alphabetically consecutive parkruns, only the letter Z remained. And there is only one parkrun in the whole of Australia starting with Z - Zillmere.

Where the hell is Zillmere? It is a fairly nondescript suburb of Brisbane 14 kilometres north of the city. Fortunately the state borders had re-opened. Armed with a permit, I could fly to Brisbane and back without any requirement to quarantine. A round trip of around 2,800 kilometres for a parkrun might seem extreme, but my zeal for my zany project remained undiminished.

I found an AirBnB room in Zillmere close to the parkrun venue. My early arrival the day before the parkrun allowed me to catch a few zeds in the afternoon. I woke up feeling a bit zonked by the heat and humidity. I put on my running shoes and jogged to the park where the parkrun would take place. I found that the entire course was on grass. Queensland grass is lush, very, very lush. I regretted not packing my spikes.

The next morning I woke early, as Queensland parkruns start at 7.00 am. It was already warm and sunny, and I felt a bit zombie-like after a restless night. I needed to get into the “zone", that state of mind and body that allows a runner to shake off any weariness and lethargy, and run as fast as possible. A blast of ZZ Top in my headphones and some vigorous stretching helped get me going.

I felt pretty zippy by the time I arrived at the parkrun. I had left plenty of time, or so I thought until I realised that I had left my wristband at my accommodation! No wristband meant that I had no barcode, which meant that no result would be recorded for my run. I had not come all this way or run the alphabet from A to Y only to record a zero result at Zillmere, so I zoomed back to my digs and frantically searched my belongings for my wristband. The minutes ticked by, but I found it and sprinted back to the start of the parkrun. I made it there with less than a minute to spare, feeling a bit zapped.

The barest zephyr of a breeze did little to reduce the heat as we set off on the stroke of 7.00 am. Lots of zigging and plenty of zagging later, I found myself finishing my alphabetical challenge soaked in sweat, but exultant. I secured my last parkrun frame photo and wandered off for coffee with fellow Victorians Bill and Heather Carr, who had also travelled from Melbourne for the run.

Finishing the Zillmere parkrun was a special moment for me. I had started my journey at close to the lowest point in my life, suffering the ravages of chemotherapy and not knowing if I would survive, and had completed it, strong, happy and healthy, in the glorious Queensland sun. I had well and truly regained my zest for life.

Course ratings - Zillmere:

Course - complicated course with many direction changes ***

Surface - soft grass ***

Setting - open fields and sports ovals ****

Social index - lovely volunteers *****

This post’s Z count: 24.

There are zilch letters remaining, so the next post will be a wrap-up of the A to Z adventure.

[hutz224]

A distance runner’s Covid-19 lament

It's been a long time between blogs. For my faithful followers (thanks Mum), my alphabetical parkrun project came to an abrupt halt in mid March with the first lockdown in Melbourne. I was left frustratingly short of my goal, with just letters W, Y and Z remaining (there are no parkruns beginning with X). As a result, there hasn't been much to write about since my last blog in August. 

The current stage 4 lockdown in Melbourne prohibits travel beyond a 5 kilometre radius of your home, with a few specific excemptions. This has cramped the style of many runners. It has been a necessary and acceptable restriction, but maybe now it's time to relax it. 

I’m a parkrun tourist at heart To travel 6k would be a nice start I feel so restricted and that is my beef It’s not as if I want to go to Tenerife (17,996k)

Maybe I’ll wait until after dark And sneak on over to Albert Park (8k) It would be a clear Covid breach To go running at Altona Beach (25k)

If only I could sprout some wings And fly on out to Berwick Springs (57k) And if Dan would give me a break I’d do two laps round Lillydale Lake (38k)

Would it be a mortal sin To jog the path at Darebin? (9k) Why can’t I make like Deek And do a long run at Diamond Creek? (25k)

If I could get to Frog Hollow (48k) A quick 5k would inevitably follow And the leafy trails at Gardiners Creek (20k) Would help me reach my post-cancer peak

I know it is out of my hands To be allowed to run at Highlands (33k) But as long as nobody tells Maybe I can get as far as Jells (22k)

Would it be such a bad look If I drove 19 k’s to Karkarook? And if I went to Wyndham Vale (38k) Would the Corona cops put me in jail?

Although I’ve not been to Point Cook (31k) I would dearly love to take a look And I’d like to see what the course holds Up and down the hills at Westerfolds (16k)

Warringal Parklands seem at my front door But the map says it’s 10k or more I’m even having hunger pangs To run around the You Yangs (60k)

This thing has gone on way too long I’m really missing Maribyrnong (10k) I’m only asking, for heaven’s sakes For a chance to run at Newport Lakes (18k)

So please please please help us Dan You have power to lift the ban This 5k limit is such a bummer For every long-suffering (park)runner

[hutz224]

Vacationing vagabonds vamoose to Victor Harbor

28 August 2020 - alphabetical post #22

After venturing to northern New South Wales for the Urunga parkrun, our next scheduled parkrun venue was Victor Harbor in South Australia, more than 2,100 kilometres away across our vast continent. We had six days to get there and decided to travel via the outback town of Lightning Ridge.

As we travelled, we were hearing and reading about the arrival of a deadly virus from China, but we vanquished any thoughts of it affecting our trip. We had other concerns when the heavens opened and a vigorous rainstorm transformed the landscape. The sheer volume of water on the road verges gave us cause to wonder whether flooding would cut the local highways. We voted to continue to Lightning Ridge and were vindicated when the skies cleared and the sun returned. We later learned that this was the area’s first viable rain in seven years.

Lightning Ridge had various attractions, including hot water springs and its valuable opal mining industry. I was very happy to discover that street artist, Mort Murray, lived in the town and had his art gallery there. We viewed several of his vibrant and quirky murals around town. Our final verdict was that Lightning Ridge was well worth the visit.

Turning south through Broken Hill, the landscape remained virtually unchanged for mile after mile. Our trusty vehicle had not missed a beat, but Bolt the whippet was voicing his displeasure at the vibrations whenever we hit a rough section of road. Finally we reached Victor Harbor. Candice and I were both very happy to relinquish the cramped van bed for a real one. 

The heat and dust of the interior had vanished and been replaced by a viciously cold wind for the parkrun. My chemo treatment had left me vulnerable to fatigue and unfortunately the long road trip had sapped almost the last vestige of my energy. I just wanted to get the run over and done with. This was a pity because the parkrun course was flat, visually attractive and would be very fast on a windless day. The official results verify a time of 26:08, but I really struggled and was just happy to finish.

 Post run I vacillated between choosing a veal parma or veggie burger to meet my voracious appetite. I chose the latter with a vanilla milkshake. We parted company with friends Scott and Cathy and veered back through the now verdant countryside to Victoria. The news regarding the virulent Coronavirus was growing steadily worse with no vaccine remotely in sight. But not even in my most vivid imaginings could I have foreseen the vicissitudes and vexations of the imminent pandemic. 

The timelapse video of the Victor Harbor parkrun is here.

Course ratings - Victor Harbor:

Course - out and back on coastal path *****

Surface - bitumen *****

Setting - beach/coast *****

Social index - vivacious, versatile volunteers *****

This post’s V count: 57.

The next post will be brought to you by the letter W (or will it?).

[hutz224]

Unhinged athlete underperforms at unforgettable Urunga

19 August 2020 - alphabetical post #21

Upon the completion of my chemotherapy, I took a three month leave of absence from the unceasing and uninspiring grind of work. This would allow Candice and I to undertake a road trip to the upcoming U and V parkruns, both of which required travel to unfamiliar interstate venues.

There are only two parkruns in Australia starting with the letter U: Underwood Park in Queensland and Urunga on the far north coast of New South Wales. There are three V parkruns, two in Queensland and one in South Australia. We could have simply flown to Queensland and remained there for both runs, but I had an unshakeable urge to do a more unorthodox trip. And so it transpired in early March that we hired a campervan with unlimited kilometres and headed north to Urunga, utterly oblivious to the unprecedented Covid-19 upheaval still to come.

It was a long way to Urunga (1,354 km to be precise) and we had two whippets on board, both unused to long distance driving. We put them in safety harnesses on their beds behind us in the van so that they would be unable to roam unchecked and possibly get underfoot.

Our drive to Urunga was unhurried and uneventful, but we were shocked by the unrelenting scenes of bushfire devastation throughout New South Wales. It was upsetting to see the ugly scars wrought on the usually green forests. Seeing the damage with our own eyes gave us a real understanding of the unstoppable maelstrom of fire that had been unleashed upon the unsuspecting land.

I had done my utmost to convince Candice that this road trip would be an unqualified success, but it is fair to say that by the time we reached Urunga, she was somewhat underwhelmed by the experience. The small size of the van was proving unsuitable for us and the dogs. Then upon arrival in Urunga, my delight at finding an unspoiled riverbank camping spot was unfortunately swiftly undone by the unwelcome swarm of sandflies which invaded the van at dusk. The next day we were both covered with umpteen uncomfortable bites. Candice was unamused.

The dawn ushered in a cloudy morning. Candice undertook to mind the dogs while I did the parkrun, which started at the unaccustomed early time of 7.00 a.m. I met the event director, Nathan, and his united band of helpers which included his two daughters clad in the usual volunteers’ high-vis uniforms, but in appropriately small sizes.

53 parkrunners were soon up and running (or walking). Thankfully for this unfit runner, there were no undulations in the course, which was flat except for a slight uptick at one end. The course was only 700 metres from end to end and so it had the unusually high number of seven U-turns. I was unimpressed with my ultimate finishing time of 23:41, but I knew that I would be unlikely to run any faster unless and until the unpleasant side effects of chemotherapy subsided. One upside of the run was that my cap cam worked, showing the course under unbroken cloudy skies - see the video below. After the run, there was an uplifting moment as I posed with Nathan and his daughters for a photo. 

Later we headed off along the unique Urunga boardwalk, which extends one kilometre from the township and follows the Kalang River to its junction with the Bellinger River and then out to the ocean, with unrivalled views inland to the Great Dividing Range. It was unquestionably the highlight of our road trip to that point.

I had underestimated the difficulty of travelling in an untested campervan with two unpredictable whippets. But I remained undaunted. I was unfazed by the massive distance to the next parkrun in Victor Harbor, South Australia. We had six days to get there, so there was no urgency. What could possibly go wrong?

Course ratings - Urunga: 

Course - seven laps of 700m walking path ** 

Surface - concrete ***** 

Setting - parkland next to Kalang River ***** 

Social index - friendly volunteers *****

This post’s U count: 86.

The next post will be brought to U by the letter V.

[hutz224]

Taxing Torquay trek tests temperamental tourist’s tenacity

12 July 2020 - alphabetical post #20 

The next target in my series of parkruns was the letter T, the twentieth letter of the alphabet. It was a toss up between Toolern Vale in Melton and Torquay. I chose the latter because we could stay overnight in a friend’s beach house in town just three hundred metres from the parkrun start.

We travelled to Torquay together with our two whippets, Cliffy and Bolt. There was no shortage of suitable tunes to help pass the time in the tedious Friday afternoon traffic tangle. My T playlist for the trip featured Tina Turner, Tommy Tutone, Tanya Tucker and of course Tiny Tim, with his truly terrible song “Tiptoe Through the Tulips”.

2020 is a leap year, and 29 February fell on a Saturday. This would not happen again until 2048. Thus parkrunners world wide were being encouraged to mark the day by jumping into the air. Bolt threw himself into the spirit of things at the beach house - see video below.

It had been three weeks since my chemotherapy torture had finished, but there had been no tangible change in my state of health since then. The toxic drugs had taken their toll and I was perpetually tired. It was tempting to throw in the towel and skip this one, but I decided to grit my teeth and tough it out.

The Torquay parkrun course follows a trail parallel to Fishermans Beach and thankfully the terrain is mostly flat, with some twists and turns. As we joined the assembled throng, the weather was terrific: clear, windless and at a good temperature for running. After a tentative start, I tried to run at my threshold, and this tactic netted me a finishing time of 23:10, not too bad in the absence of training.

Unfortunately that morning I must have been suffering from “chemo brain”, which clouds thinking somewhat. I had trouble operating both my running watch and tiny cap-mounted timelapse camera. The camera is touchy and, like most technology, is useless if not turned on correctly. So unfortunately there is no video footage this week.

Afterwards runners and walkers took over the nearby Salty Dog Cafe, appropriately named given the tremendous number of dogs with their owners at the outdoor tables. The cafe offered some tasty treats, but I was happy with tea and raisin toast. Tugging on their leads and with tails wagging, our two whippets reminded us to take them to the beach, so we trudged behind them as they chased and tormented the local seagulls.

That evening we left our temporary home to travel back to Melbourne, back to our telephones and vacuous TV, with a twinge of regret that we could not tarry a tad longer in Torquay.

Course ratings - Torquay: 

Course - out and back **** 

Surface - gravel trail **** 

Setting - next to beach, low scrub **** 

Social index - Salty Dog Cafe close to the start/finish line *****

This post’s T count: 150.

The next post will be brought to you by the letter U.

[hutz224]

Studley stampede sustains silly sexagenarian’s strange sporting streak

1 August 2020 - alphabetical post #19

Still sadly suffering savage side effects from my chemotherapy ordeal, the selection of a parkrun starting with the letter S seemed a simple task. I live only a short distance from Yarra Bend Park and neighbouring Studley Park. The Studley parkrun traverses trails in both parks and includes some seriously steep hills. It’s a stern test on a very scenic course. Yarra Bend is a special place to run, so close to the city that at dusk you can spot the sun setting behind the CBD’s soaring skyscrapers.  

Saturday 22 February dawned fine and sunny. In a sensible effort to avoid sunburn, I slipped on my singlet, slopped on sunscreen and slapped on a cap. After sipping on a smoothie for breakfast, I strapped on my running shoes with the “swoosh” logo. 

As usual, I searched for suitable songs to play on the car’s surround sound system. Candice wanted some soothing classical music and suggested Scriabin’s Sixth Sonata, but I scoured my collection for something more stimulating to stir me from my early morning stupor. I could have tried to squeeze in songs from Sister Sledge, Sufjan Stevens and the Scissor Sisters, but instead I settled for the searing sax solo in “Baker Street”, which always succeeds in sparking me up.

Upon arrival we met friends Scott and Cathy. Scott would run with me, while Cathy and Candice would stick together. Everyone assembled in the shade at the picnic shelter for the briefing, then we were sent off on our way. There was a scramble to steer our way through a severe early bottleneck where the course entered a bush trail on the southern side of the Yarra River. After 500m, we turned around and scampered back to Kane’s Bridge, a spectacular suspension bridge connecting the two parks.

The runners shattered the serenity of the silent river as they crossed the bridge, which shuddered under the sudden surge of bodies. My suspect state of health meant that the hills to come would be a significant challenge, so my strategy was to go slow and steady for the first and second kilometres. The first hill snaked up from the riverbank with several switchbacks to negotiate. Shortly after that came a sharp slope down to the river and the furthest turnaround point, which sent us to slog back up the same slope. Then it was back down the switchbacks, trying not to collide with stragglers coming the other way.

I tried to increase speed on our return journey, and running in Scott’s slipstream helped to put a spring in my step. I lacked the strength to summon any sort of sprint, but I still had enough stamina to survive the course and stride for the line, finishing in 27:05. Although the time sucked, I was satisfied with my effort.

The Studley course was a splendid course for a timelapse video shoot, which you can see at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QvAbbL3EOLM&t=9s. The video showcases the superb scenery and is set to some superior Aussie music.

This run took place before the sad and scary pandemic which has shut down parkruns and other social events in Melbourne. After this run, we shared scones with scrumptious strawberry jam at the nearby Studley Park Boathouse. That afternoon, we sauntered off to a sausage sizzle at a friend’s place in a seaside suburb, where we savoured succulent steaks accompanied by a sublime South Australian shiraz. We sat around with a small group of friends and swapped stories of our summer shenanigans until sunset. 

We had no idea of the shocking s..tstorm soon to rock our self-absorbed world.

Course ratings - Studley:

Course - out and back first kilometre, then out and back to make up the four remaining hilly kilometres, two bridge crossings **

Surface - gravel trails, wooden suspension bridge ***

Setting - natural bush by the Yarra River *****

Social index - Studley Park Boathouse by the start/finish line *****

This post’s S count: 176 (a sensational, stupendous PB).

The next post will be brought to you by the letter T. 

Footnote: I forgot to answer the Q quiz question, which was: who made Brian May of Queen’s guitar? Answer: Brian May.

[hutz224]

Rabid Road Racer Reviews Rainy Rosebud Ramble Retrospectively

22 July 2020 - alphabetical post #18

By mid February I had eight parkruns remaining to complete my alphabetical challenge. Yes, that’s right, eight, because there are no parkruns beginning with the letter X. We had returned from Tasmania and I chose Rosebud as our next running destination. Rosebud used to be known as a beach resort, but rampant development has turned it into more like a beachside suburb.

We researched a place to stay in the region and found a dog friendly AirBnB residence. We roared down the highway to Rosebud on Friday afternoon. We didn’t require random radio tunes as I had prepared a playlist for the ride. I prefer rock and roll to rap music, so the list included rollicking old tunes like “Rocky Raccoon”, “Rebel Rebel”, “Rockin’ Robin” and, appropriately, “Run Rudolph Run”, which I guess really dates me.

We repaired to the house, which sat high on a hilltop. We were rewarded with a ripping view of the receding rays of the sun as we reclined on the balcony drinking red wine, while our whippets roamed the yard below. I reckoned this was a pretty reasonable spot to rest and relax as I replenished my glass several times.

The alarm rang early the next morning, rousing us from sleep. I felt rather raw and was regretting the rum and coke I had retrieved from the refrigerator last thing before retiring. The weather had regressed and there were rain squalls rolling across the now rough sea, resulting in some resistance by the dogs to the interruption of their sleepy repose.

Our spirits were revived upon reaching the foreshore. It was the Rosebud parkrun’s second birthday and everyone received the news that, despite the rain, they were welcome to feast on a table of treats after the run. I spotted another Miler, Rob, resplendent in a Hawaiian shirt and ready to race (even though parkrun is not a race). 

Although my chemotherapy regimen had finished, I would soon come to realise that the drugs would ravage my system for some time, and that my recovery could not be rushed. But on this day at Rosebud, despite feeling pretty rotten, I went out relatively hard and tried to maintain a robust rhythm. 

We ran a twice out and return course with four 180 degree turns, which seems to be a regular set up on coastal parkrun paths. The route traversed a boardwalk, which didn’t leave much room for oncoming traffic as we rounded a few bends. My watch revealed a respectable finish time of 22:57, but I do recall being passed at a rapid rate by a runner wearing rubber sandals! 

I recorded the run on my cap cam, but unfortunately water on the lens restricted the view at times. Check it out at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Va6FEgC4apg 

I am hoping that reading this blog brings a refreshing respite for my fellow Melburnians from recent lockdown restraints and until we resume our previous lives. Hopefully the reports are not becoming too repetitive. Regardless, I am relishing writing them. But now this ridiculous rant has reached an end for another week.

Course ratings - Rosebud:

Course - twice out and back with four 180 degree turns ***

Surface - part bitumen, part wooden boardwalk, some gravel ****

Setting - beachfront path and boardwalk, some ti tree scrub ****

Social index -  volunteers who like to (birthday) party *****

This post’s R count: 119.

The next post will be brought to you by the letter S.

[hutz224]

Quixotic chaotic quest continues

15 July 2020 - alphabetical post #17

Given the large number of parkruns in and close to Melbourne, finding runs beginning with the letters A to P had not been a difficult task. But the letter Q was another matter entirely. For the first time, it would be necessary to travel interstate. Queanbeyan in New South Wales or Queens Domain in Hobart, Tasmania? That was the question. I was left in something of a quandary, but not for long.

The interstate trip came at a good time. Friday 7 February was the last day of my chemotherapy treatment. The same day, Candice and I boarded a Qantas flight to Hobart, where we were staying in a quaint AirBnB house in a quiet Sandy Bay street. We happily quaffed a liberal quantity of champagne with dinner to celebrate the end of my chemo ordeal, even though some side effects would not quit (and still haven’t).

Hobart qualifies as a truly beautiful city. Nobody would quibble with that proposition. Queens Domain is, to quote Wikipedia: “a small hilly area of bushland just north-east of the CBD”. It contains a range of quality sporting facilities, including a two kilometre circuit called “Max’s Infinity Loop”, named after local running coach, the late Max Cherry OAM. 

Over 200 runners and walkers queued at the start. We began quite slowly on an uphill section. The course had a trail section through the bush, but otherwise followed the quirky dual surface loop (half bitumen, half cinders) out and back, with a quick downhill finish. The hills and trails gave my quads a good workout as I clocked 26:47.

Post-run we quenched our thirsts at a Sandy Bay cafe with local runner and friend Andy Allison. Later we drove past Macca’s and I quipped: “The thought of eating a quarter-pounder makes me feel queasy, but I wouldn’t mind some quiche.” Candice, who is used to my alphabetical wordplays, rolled her eyes and said: “You will run out of words this time, even though you will be typing on a qwerty keyboard.” 

“Good one,” I said, “Now how about a Queen quiz?” Candice quelled my enthusiasm with a prompt: “No, thanks”. Ignoring the rebuff, I posed this query: “Brian May is the quintessential guitarist. Who made his guitar, the “Red Special”?” Answer next blog.

Course ratings - Queens Domain:

Course - out and back on Max’s Infinity Loop plus trail detour, hilly ***

Surface - bitumen, cinders and dirt ***

Setting - natural bush ****

Social index - helpful volunteers ****

This post’s Q count: 32.

The next post will be brought to you by the letter R.