#alphabeticalchallenge

[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]

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]

Loving Lillydale Lake

9 June 2020 - alphabetical post #12

In the suburb of Lilydale, there is a lake called Lillydale Lake. What is the logic behind the inconsistent spelling? Apparently the latter is the spelling of the former Lillydale shire, named for an early settler, Lilly de Castella. It is unclear why one “L” was lost when the suburb was named, or whether there is any ancestral link between Lilly and marathon legend Rob.

But such legitimate questions were a long way from my mind as we left home on a Saturday morning in early January to head for the location of the parkrun. The air was lousy with smoke from the bushfires. I later learnt that many parkruns that day were cancelled, but luckily for us the Lillydale Lake event went ahead.

This was my third parkrun in eight days, with no other running at all. Given how lethargic and listless the chemo drugs were making me feel, I was probably justified in laying low, but the letter L marked the halfway point of my alphabetical list. I figured that at least I could lope around at a leisurely pace.

As we checked out the lie of the land while limbering up, a large crowd of parkrunners gathered. After listening to the briefing, we lined up, then the starter let everyone loose to do two laps of the lake. Lean, hungry runners leapt ahead and legged it into the distance. Most participants, Candice and I included, lagged behind at a more lackadaisical pace. 

We were breathing a lot of smoky air into our lungs and suddenly Candice lost her momentum and stopped. I lingered briefly to make sure she was OK, then, somewhat unchivalrously, left the lady behind. I lengthened my stride, lifted my pace and tried to stay light on my leaden feet. I would like to say that I found a new lease of life, but it was a laborious, lonely second lap and I was on my limit. I lasted long enough to run the course in 25:13.  

Although running parkruns during chemotherapy might look like lunacy, I was finding the experience liberating. Although lamenting a lack of fitness, there were always laughs and levity later. Each run was a little victory.

After the smoke and heat, we both needed liquid refreshment. A quick search led us to the local shops. I loaded up with several litres of water and a loaf of bread for our lunch.  On the long ride home, I did my level best to play (loudly) as many alliterative artists as possible, including Los Lobos, Loretta Lynn, Lyle Lovett, Leona Lewis, Lindsay Lohan and Lene Lovich.

You can view my cap cam footage of the lovely Lillydale Lake, set to music (“Lakeside” by Australian Crawl) at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=quYklgmRUfQ&t=22s

Course ratings - Lillydale Lake:

Course - two laps around the lake, flat and fast *****

Surface - gravel ****

Setting - reclaimed parkland and artificial lake *****

Social index - likeable, friendly volunteers ****

This post’s L count: 103.

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

[hutz224]

Hot to trot at Highlands

15 May 2020 - alphabetical post #9

My alphabetical assignment had reached the letter H. Where to go? Hastings was an option, but Highlands was closer. But where the hell is Highlands? It turns out to be a planned housing estate in Craigieburn with its own small lake called, not surprisingly, Highlands Lake. The area bears no resemblance whatsoever to the Scottish highlands.

It was another cold morning as we hit the highway in our Toyota Prius hybrid. A herd of about a hundred humans and several hounds had assembled for the parkrun. Health-wise, I was feeling far from hale and hearty, and the horrid chemo drugs were severely hindering my training. Nonetheless I was hopeful of a half decent run because, although cold, the still conditions meant no headwinds and the course contained no hills of any consequence.

As always, from the start, a handful of runners hared out at a hectic pace. I was hard on their heels in hot pursuit, but I couldn’t hold my pace after a 3:48 opening kilometre. I was happy to hang on after the helter-skelter opening for fourth place, and my best parkrun time (20:22) and age grading (80.11%) since my operation. I made heavy work of the last kilometre though and was really hurting by the time I finally came to a halt. There was nothing half-hearted or hesitant about my effort.

After some high fives from the always helpful volunteers (hooray for them!), we hurried back to our heated car to head home. The day’s playlist featured three heroes of rock: Elvis with “Heartbreak Hotel”, Bruce with “Hungry Heart” and Leonard with “Hallelujah”, but I refrained from forcing Candice to listen to any of “Herman’s Hermits’ Greatest Hits”. I was hungry enough to eat a huge hotdog, but had to be satisfied with a hot chocolate from the Waterside Cafe, which is handily located by the lake.

The jury was still out on whether my parkrun habit was doing me more harm than good. On some running days, I was hobbling out of the house, feeling like I was flogging a dead horse. On other days, like at Highlands, I did not feel particularly hampered or handicapped by my illness. I knew that whatever happened in my long haul back to good health, having and retaining my sense of humour was important, hence my hyperbolic history of alphabetical parkruns.

Finally, with apologies to Bob Dylan (hijacked from the last two verses of his song “Highlands”): “I see people in the park, forgettin' their troubles and woes They're runnin' and walkin', wearin' bright coloured clothes All the young men with the young women lookin' so good Well, I'd trade places with the lot of 'em, in a minute if I could I'm liftin' my feet to get away from a speedy dog Talkin' to myself in a monologue I think what I need might be some full-on parkrun fun Somebody just asked me if I've registered to run The sun is beginnin' to shine on me But it's not like the sun that used to be The parkrun's coming and there's less and less to say I got new shoes, but 5k looks a long way Well my heart's here at Highlands at the break of day The start of the run not far away There's a way to get fit, and I'll figure it out somehow But I'm already there in my mind and that's good enough for now��

Course ratings: Course - three laps of Highlands Lake with one very small hill **** Surface - concrete ***** Setting - lake views, housing estate **** Social index - Waterside Cafe a short walk away *****

This post’s H word count: 87.

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

[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]

Hard yakka in the You Yangs

15 February 2021 - alphabetical blog #24

With W done and dusted, next up was the letter Y. Who could resist the lure of a parkrun titled with a double Y? So it was up early for a one hour drive with two yawning whippets to the You Yangs Regional Park.

It had rained heavily in the days before and so we were not entirely sure that the event would go ahead, but a Facebook message assured us that, yes, it was all systems go. But where was the start? After following some well-placed arrows in the park, yippee, we found it.

As we jogged off to the start, two whippets indicated their displeasure at being left behind in the car with some protracted yapping and yowling. Candice decided that it was no use yelling at them to be quiet, and she would yield to their plaintive yelping and walk with them around the course.

The parkrun began with a steady uphill climb. By halfway, I was yearning to see the top. Youth was not necessarily an advantage on this section as several young athletes fell back behind me. After the hill, the going became easier but not much faster through some wet and rutted patches. I longed for my speed of yesteryear as I did the hard yards to get to the finish in third place.

I jogged back to find Candice who had not yet reached halfway. I finally spotted her over yonder and we walked to the finish, yarning with a local parkrun regular, Jacqui, as we went.

Back in the car, we refuelled with some yummy yoghurt and yellow peaches, then streamed some Yothu Yindi, appropriate music as we drove out through the beautiful natural bush of the You Yangs range.

Course ratings - You Yangs: 

Course - bush circuit on gravel roads and access tracks **** 

Surface - gravel and clay *** 

Setting - natural bush ***** 

Social index - friendly people everywhere *****

This post’s Y count: 30.

The next post will be brought to you by the letter Z!

[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]

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.

[hutz224]

Pre-pandemic parkrun project progressing predictably

6 July - alphabetical post #16

I knew chemotherapy would be no picnic and by February, the punishing regime of pernicious drugs was limiting me to one run per week. In the first week of February, my health plight was precarious. I seemed to be permanently exhausted and my persistent neuropathy had progressed to the point where I could no longer write properly. I was probably also paying the penalty for pushing too hard at Ocean Grove, my previous parkrun, where I had ended up prone on the pavement, providing sadistic pleasure to another Midday Miler pal, Andrew “Pins” Pintar.

The next planned alphabetical run was at Princes Park, just three kilometres from home. Princes Park is in the suburb of Parkville, which is why I would be participating in the Parkville parkrun. The park, with its beautiful trees and playing fields close to the city, is much praised. The parkrun makes use of the pedestrian path around the park’s perimeter.

Candice and pal “Pins” were prepared to partner me during the run, a pleasant prospect that helped me to stay positive despite feeling particularly poorly. 354 people lined up at the start, a phenomenal number proving the event’s popularity. We took off at a prudent pace, but passing the pond the first time, I was already feeling the pinch. We proceeded purposefully along Royal Parade and past the playing fields. I would have liked to pick up the pace, but my fatigue precluded that, and we continued to plod around painfully slowly.

I was proud not to have walked in any of my parkruns and my priority was to maintain this perfect record. The last part of my run was not pretty, but I persevered to pass the finish line in 31:31, my slowest parkrun ever. Candice and Andrew stayed patiently with me, for which I was profoundly grateful.

We looked for the parkrun’s picture frame for the usual post-run photo, but were perplexed to find that the Parkville event does not have one, unlike every other parkrun we had attended. So I posed next to the Princes Park sign instead. 

Back in our Prius, we pulled out of our parking spot and headed for Carlton, a great place for porridge, pancakes, pastries, pies or pizza if you are feeling at all peckish.

Last time, I put forward the possibility of three oxymorons in my O post. They were as follows: “oddly familiar”, “once again” and “unbiased opinion”. Perhaps a pedantic person might also argue for the word “outcome”.

Thus endeth my prolix prose for now. It’s time to publish.

Course ratings - Parkville:

Course - one and half laps of Princes Park, slightly undulating ****

Surface - gravel and bitumen ****

Setting - picturesque Princes Park *****

Social index - proficient, passionate volunteers ****

This post’s P count: 126 (a PB, putting paid to my previous best of 107).

The next post will be brought to you by the letter Q (so may be quite short!).

[hutz224]

Outrageous oddball odyssey ongoing at Ocean Grove

30 June 2020 - alphabetical post #15

By late January, I had done parkruns A to N in alphabetical order. I had finished the intravenous doses of oxaliplatin which were part of my chemotherapy ordeal, but I was still obliged to take oodles of tablets, although only for another two weeks.

Next up was the Ocean Grove parkrun. Ocean Grove was over one hundred kilometres away, so we opted for some overnight accommodation. A good running friend Janice had previously offered us a bed at her beach house and I obtained her kind permission to occupy the house for the weekend.

It was an outstanding summer’s morning for the parkrun: still, cool and clear, conditions that ought to have made for fast running. I was feeling OK, so I took off at an opportunistic four minutes per kilometre pace. In hindsight, it was obvious that I had set myself an overly onerous task. My pace seemed to oscillate between slow and slower later in the run as I was overtaken by several runners. I observed that the configuration of the course seemed oddly familiar, as once again there were witches hats at each end of the 1.25 kilometre course, just like at Inverloch.

As was becoming so often the case, it took every ounce of my energy to finish in an official time of 21:52. But it was a great day to be outside, oblivious to my other woes and pursuing my favourite obsession. I had run my fastest time for over a month, a good outcome. Despite feeling very ordinary after the run, I remained obstinately optimistic that I would overcome my illness and its associated challenges. Running would not cure me, but since my operation, it continued to offer me relief from the most oppressive aspects of my treatment.

In my unbiased opinion, this pretty parkrun course on a bank of the Barwon River estuary is a good one, although it is open to onshore breezes. It is a great option if you are holidaying on the Bellarine peninsula. You can observe it for yourself in my cap cam timelapse video at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lfs8yc7mNaI&t=14s.

Given the theme of this blog, I should have eaten some organic oranges or listened to Ozzy Osbourne after the run, but I did neither. Instead I thought about oxymorons. There are three in this blog. Can you spot them? Answers next blog.

Course ratings - Ocean Grove:

Course - two laps out and back, fairly narrow flat path, four 180 degree turns ****

Surface - gravel and bitumen ****

Setting - path beside the Barwon River estuary *****

Social index - friendly volunteers ****

This post’s O count: 74.

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

[hutz224]

Naughtily nude at Newport

24 June 2020 - alphabetical blog #14

No, nobody got naked, that was just a nonsense headline to get your attention.

My previous blogs have narrated my parkrun journey, but not said much about negotiating my way through cancer treatment. Well, N is for neuropathy, which has been a nightmare for me throughout my chemo. Chemotherapy feeds a patient’s system with nasty cancer-killing drugs, some of which are neurotoxic and cause nerve damage. In my case, this has meant extreme sensitivity, loss of function, pain and non-stop pins and needles in my fingers. I have also experienced numbness of both feet affecting my balance and adverse effects on my throat and voice. The neuropathy is still a nuisance even now.

By mid January, my neuropathy symptoms were severe and it was necessary to take painkillers to dull the nerve pain. Despite the nagging discomfort, I was nowhere near giving up running, even if that meant simply surviving from parkrun to parkrun. The nearest parkrun beginning with N was Newport Lakes. The parkrun is held in a nature reserve of that name created from a former bluestone quarry and rubbish tip site in Newport. Its numerous native plants make it something of a bush oasis.

This time, I had neither the energy nor inclination to run hard. I would have been happy to lie down and take a nap. Nonetheless I needed the run. Running has long been my narcotic of choice and I knew that it would help to nullify my neuropathy. But I had noticed on the net that this parkrun had a number of hills and would not be an easy proposition, even wearing my new Nikes.

We navigated a network of trails during the run, needing to be nimble in places. There were some testing uphills and nice downhills. I ran next to Candice, wearing my cap camera. I finished in 29:51, just nine seconds shy of 30 minutes. It was my slowest parkrun yet, but there was no use being negative about that, or worrying about whether I would ever feel normal again. The better news was that I had now nailed my fourteenth alphabetical parkrun.

We nicked off back to the car, where I nibbled on some nougat for nourishment. We noted that the Newport Lakes parkrun was pretty neat, although you would never choose it to run a fast time. It was a noiseless drive home, as I had been unable to nominate any bands or artists with alliterative names. As for song titles, I had come up with nothing, other than Shirley Bassey’s “Never Never Never”, which was a bit naff even for someone into 1970’s nostalgia.

Course ratings - Newport Lakes:

Course - winding trail, narrow in places, some sharp hills, many turns ***

Surface - gravel, uneven in places **

Setting - natural bush and artificial lakes *****

Social index - enthusiastic volunteers ****

Timelapse video - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W-aRjp35csI

This post’s N count: 75.

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

[hutz224]

Marvellous Maribyrnong meander

16 June 2020 - alphabetical post #13

The suburb of Maribyrnong lies just six kilometres from the Melbourne CBD. The name is believed to come from an aboriginal word meaning “saltwater river.” Among the Melbourne Midday Milers, it is no secret that the Maribyrnong parkrun course is mighty fast. I have many happy memories there, making it an easy choice for my “M” parkrun. It was a magic day in 2018 when I scored a 90% age grading and joined a small group of Olympians who had achieved that mark.

But there is a massive difference between running at your maximum limit when fit and managing your body through the misery of chemotherapy. It was mid January and I was down to the bare minimum of running one parkrun per week. This meant that my previous fitness was all but gone, but there wasn’t much use moaning about it, I had to finish my alphabetical mission.

We motored to Maribyrnong on a mild morning, getting motivated by some 70’s and 80’s classics - “Maggie May”, “Manic Monday”, “Mamma Mia” and “Magic Man”. Once out of the car, it was still cool enough for me to wear tights and mittens. As always, a mob of runners and walkers mingled at the start in an upbeat mood.

I had made up my mind to run at a measured pace. It would have been a major mistake to do otherwise. Maybe I could have moved moderately faster, but there were many more months of parkrun ahead of me yet. Running slowly is something of a mental challenge for me because, as a marathoner, I am used to hurting myself in races. But parkrun is not a race and there are no medals on offer, so I put my male ego away and mustered enough energy to jog around in a modest 27:55. My mate Nick snapped a good pic the moment before Candice and I crossed the finish line.

It was turning into a magnificent day as we moved on to the Boathouse, the cafe of choice for Maribyrnong parkrunners. I made the most of the menu, munching on some muesli, then downing a mango milkshake. After murdering a muffin and toast with margarine and marmalade, I could not eat another mouthful. Back in the car, we went slippin’ away with music by Max Merritt and the Meteors, then floated on home with Modest Mouse (see what I did there?).

I had got through another run without mishap and was already looking forward to meeting my next parkrun challenge. And the end of chemo was in sight, raising my hopes of regaining my running mojo.

Course ratings - Maribyrnong: Course - out and back loop, flat and fast ***** Surface - bitumen and concrete ***** Setting - bike path beside the Maribyrnong River ***** Social index - friendly volunteers, great cafe ****

This post’s M count: 94.

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

[hutz224]

Jells jive or Karkarook karaoke?

3 June 2020 - alphabetical post #11

Well, neither, as it happens. In order to keep my alphabetical sequence going, it was necessary to skip the Christmas Day parkruns on offer and run instead on Saturday 28 December, then again on New Year’s Day. Although J and K parkruns are rare, I was fortunate that Jells Park and Karkarook Park were both within relatively easy driving distance from home.

That was the good news. The bad news was that the side effects from my chemotherapy were getting worse and worse and it was getting harder and harder to get out for a run. So after running reasonably well at Inverloch, my training stopped altogether and my only exercise became my parkruns.

And now trying to write a blog using the letters J and K is no joke at all. I am keen to make it work, but by jingo, there are just not many useful words. It’s a jolly shame. But conveniently, there is a jumble of aptly named musicians. On our journey to Jells Park in our faithful jalopy, we listened to a playlist including songs by Joe Jackson and JJ Cale, with a late injection of Joan Jett and Janis Joplin to jazz things up a bit.

We joined a jovial jam of runners and walkers at the start. On jerky legs, I started at a jog, conscious not to jeopardise my health if possible. I was jealous of the fit young jocks getting a jump on the field and racing out ahead. My patience ran out at halfway and I put on the jets (well, sort of) and surged past prams, dogs and junior runners to finish in an unremarkable time of 26:09, my slowest ever parkrun to that date.

Jells parkrun marked my first attempt at filming my run with a tiny camera attached to the front of my cap. I think it worked pretty well, but you can be the judge. It’s at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8QYHiVCg5rM&t=42s 

Four days later on New Year’s Day morning after a good kip (no big NYE celebrations for Candice and I), we grabbed our running kit and headed for the delightfully named Karkarook Park. This was a venue that had been kind to me in the past and I had received kudos for having the second highest age grading ever recorded there (curse you, Marlene Gourlay, no not really, just joking). 

Still knackered from the chemo, I jogged all of this one. I kept myself in check. There was no kamikaze final kick over the final kilometre. I knew that any such foolishness would kill my chances to get up for the next parkrun. I would have been kidding myself to think I could knock out a fast 5k after nearly four months of treatment. Final time was 28:35, another personal worst and a far cry from my 18:08 run a bit over a year earlier, but I really didn’t care a jot about the time and was jubilant just to get the job done.

I was keen to have a kebab after the run, but I lacked the necessary knowledge of local kebab joints. We still had Jack Johnson, Jesus Jones and Janet Jackson left on our playlist, plus some rap from Kris Kross. Yes, it was a pretty kooky mix of tunes, but not particularly suitable for karaoke.

Course ratings - Jells:

Course - two laps on bike path with one significant hill run twice ***

Surface - bitumen *****

Setting - Jells Park under the electricity pylons ****

Social index - cafe Madeline’s at Jells within metres of the course *****

Course ratings - Karkarook:

Course - twice around the park perimeter, one small hill, fast course *****

Surface - mostly bitumen, one gravel section ****

Setting - reclaimed parkland around a small lake ****

Social index - friendly volunteers ****

This post’s J count: 50. K count: 28.

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