Golden Trail Series 2021: Making it Happen
Some of my pre-trip training on Aussie trails - from left to right: A long run in Cape Woolamai; a hill session at my usual training ground Mount Dandenong; a lockdown session on the only trail I have access to near home; a rare and much needed trip to Bright for a training weekend on bigger hills
We live in crazy times. Times that are vastly unfortunate in most ways; with a small number of silver linings and apt reminders of what is important in life if you look beyond the chaos. Trying to navigate what living in a Covid-dominated world means for each individual, let alone each nation, is a confusing and every-changing task that feels well beyond my place to comment on - other than how it has affected my life and shaped my journey thus far. Overall though, one of the cool things I have found is that no matter where you are in the world, every single individual has a story of how Covid has affected them; which is perhaps the most unifying thing we have all possessed in our lifetimes.
I will outline the highs, lows, race results, and logistics of my covid-times trip from Australia to Europe to race the Golden Trail Series in the following blog posts. But to start with I will explain a bit of the backstory and how I made it happen.
I was originally booked in to go to Europe for my first racing season in 2020, with many more races lined up than what I ended up doing this year. That obviously didn’t happen with how acute things were at the time, and even at the start of this year putting things in motion to try and go overseas to compete was a contentious decision. I had so much support from everyone close to me, and a HUGE number of people I don’t know that have brought me to tears with their love and messages along the way. We really do have something special in Aus when it comes to community and supporting anyone willing to commit to something and give it their all.
I also understand entirely the small amount of backlash I received. The rules as to who is allowed out of Australia and who is let back in if they do get out seem entirely unfair, with money speaking a lot louder than any empathy or morality. On a personal level, I applied just wishing for the chance, I cried openly when I received my exemption, and I also grappled with the idea that I was being allowed out while many people hadn’t been able to see their family in 2 years, had missed important life occasions, or had gone without a multitude of others things just as (if not much more) worthy than me trying to build a career in sport. My privilege is not lost on me and my gratitude for it runs deep.
But I was dealt a hand that allowed me legally to go, so I took all the solo hours of training I had done during lockdowns and the extra savings the delay had allowed me to accumulate, and ran with it. I was determined to get everything out of this experience possible because I knew just how rare it would be.
The logistics once I had the exemption weren’t too hard. I booked flights online as normal, for a fairly normal price, and I researched all the paperwork and tests I would need (which cost anywhere from $120-$250 per PCR test depending on country so add a lot to the costs!). I was thankfully in a situation where I was able to get fully vaccinated before leaving so that was one less worry. I started working longer hours around my training to make sure I had enough to support myself for longer overseas if needed, and also to make sure I could not only survive, but also was comfortable enough to get the best performances I could out of myself. I wasn’t going to do this half-hearted, and in no way was I going to disrespect the chance I had been given by treating it even slightly like a holiday. Every thing I bought, every booking I made, was all based around the races; learning the courses, having access to things I would need to train, and prioritising health/recovery.
I had two major aims for the trip: to see where I currently sit in the world scheme of the distances I currently race; and learn about the European mountain terrain/the training required to compete on that terrain.
Because when it comes down to it, Mountain/Trail running is not as competitive or as big of a sport in Australia as it is overseas. We have an incredible community and great participation levels, but we don’t get the numbers and depths in the fields let alone the thousands of crazy fans and spectators they do in Europe. And our terrain is beautifully unique, but very very different and from where I live, MUCH flatter and less technical. It really is something else in Europe, and if I want to compete with the best, most of that happens there - on terrain I had never seen before so didn’t even know how to begin to tackle.
Two years ago this would have all been a simple thing - to go on my first rookie season overseas, where I get to learn and grow and make mistakes and on the surface kinda suck in the scheme of things because I get so overwhelmed by the newness of it all; and do it fairly under the radar because this sort of journey happens all the time for athletes. It was a little different to that, and I felt a bit more exposed because of the circumstances back home, but that isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Part of me felt like a 12 year old going through puberty with a whole heap of people watching and judging how I dealt with it, but the engagement and my ability to show every side of the journey, even the uncomfortable L-plates stages is kinda cool, because I knew going in I have a lot of work to do and I was never going to be an overnight success.
I have big dreams in sport, everyone around me knows that. I believe in myself and my ability to grow and develop into the athlete and person I know I can be, and I dedicate almost all my time and money training/recovering and focussing on how to improve because this is truly what I want to do with as much of my life as I can. I will put in 14-15 hour days including 8 hours of working 3 different jobs in one day, 4 hours of training, and a couple of hours of study. I really don’t mind the grind of that for now, because I know doing my time here working so hard for it all, as many athletes have, will pay off in the long term.
Most importantly though, Keeping everything else in my life going strong is a reminder of the truly important and grounding things in life. I am definitely not in this sport for money or recognition. I know I don’t need to prove anything to anyone but myself, and if I was after money, well, I wouldn’t be spending all my time running and spending money on running. I just have this inner voice reminding me that I never thought where I am now would be possible, which creates a huge inner drive to go searching for what else I can do. The journey to find your own best, no matter how that stacks up against anyone else or looks on the outside, is the most rewarding journey of life.
I choose my vehicle for that journey to be running, and this trip was all about me furthering that journey by whatever means available to me and in the best way I know how - by being scared out of my brains, putting myself in situations where I feel clueless and am the ‘smallest in the room’, and having a crack anyway so one day, I won’t be so small.
Continued tomorrow in: Chamonix - The Beginning
The other side of my training and recovery; Altitude training at ProSport Richmond when lockdowns allow; being fixed weekly by Sam at Muscle Freedom so I can keep beating my body up over and over; at-home recovery with Sommet Recovery Systems which was a blessing to have during lockdowns; and hours upon hours in my lockdown-built home gym to stay strong and get climbing in my legs on my Incline Trainer.
Next Post: Chamonix - The beginning of my trip