RUNNING – BLAIR WITCH STYLE

Running through the bush at night. Phwoar! Extreme, I know. Thanks.

Headlights are mandatory. Glowsticks are not, but still very practical. X-terra’s third race for the season was a 10km dash up and about Makara Peak.

By golly I was excited. I’d never run through the bush before at night. I feared for my ankles, but during the build up, I was looking more to the sheer adrenalin rush.

So did it rock my anklet socks off? Ahhh, well not quite. It was fun. But there’s a slight logistical problem of having 190 runners on one skinny mountain bike track. It means you’re only as fast as the person you’re following. Overtaking is not an easy manoeuvre. You have to ask, and then wait until the person in front can pull over, and then you have to gun it over the track’s side, and hope it’ll stay straight and wide enough for the move. All a while, visibility is nothing but a small circle about 3m in front. Oh yeah, watch out for the tree roots, overhanging branches and those “suprise! corner!” moments.

On a few occasions the bush gave way to a 4wd track. It should have been a chance to hoof it. But that whole lack-of-vision thing. It’s like running with your eyes closed, but worse because what you can see reminds you of the Blair Witch Project.

It was an enjoyable run. But it’s not really racing. I finished in an average time (1:13) and all I could think about was how fast I COULD have done it if people weren’t in the way. Or if I could see. Or if I wasn’t spooked. But then again, that wouldn’t be twilight racing, would it?

Post-race “nutrition”

LESSONS FROM THE XTERRA WOOLSHED RUN

THE WOOLSHED RUN ON FILM: here

Don’t bother tiptoeing around puddles and dodging mud. In 500m you will cross the first of many rivers

If you think you’re at the top of the hill, you’re not

Go nuts on the downhill if you have youth on your side; old people fear for their knees

Going TOO fast downhill makes you inadvertently yell “eeek!” and “woooooh”. Your arms may also flail like a crazy person’s

Talk to other runners.They know stuff you probably didn’t bother to check: “no this isn’t the last hill, “it’s this way”, etc

You will get passed by people older, bulkier and wearing more basic kit than you

You will pass people who are older, bulkier and wearing more basic kit than you, man does it feel great to kick some butt

Triumph, and free doughnuts, upon crossing the finish line beats every ounce of pre-race fear

POETRY NEEDS REBRANDING?

“You want a lift home?” a friend asks after a quick after-work biathlon. I’m in my running gear and sticky with sea. “Can’t,” I say, “I’m going straight to a poetry reading”.

My friend raises his eyebrows. He thinks I’m trying to be a bit ooh-la-la. I wave my hand and explain I’m only going because I know one of the poets.

Why do I feel compelled to distance myself from poetry? I read. I buy books. But admitting an appreciation for poetry is identifying with a different caste. It’s for the highly intellectual types; those with sophisticated tastes and dismissive of literature gobbled up by the masses.

Admittedly, I only ever read poetry by accident. I’ll be casually reading a novel and whoop! There it is, just slipped in between paragraphs.

I’m not alone. My friends at the poetry gig were also new to poetry readings. They also probably felt a bit ooh-la-la. Even Nick, who fell asleep.

We were there to support a friend who had flown in from Melbourne especially. She’s pretty good. No, she’s fantastic. Her poetry can sound like butterflies. It’s beautiful and wispy, but it has an edge – a hint of cynicism, a flash of black humour, a sudden drop to bathos.

She read from her 8000-line modern epic poem. It’s part of her PhD and a work in progress. Don’t be put off by the words “modern”, “epic” or “poem”. Her reading felt like a grown-up version of story time at the library. But instead of squirmy kids and bean bags, we had mood lighting and a glass of wine.

The excerpt was a romping narrative, rich, bejewelled even, with literary references, clever turns of phrases and humour.

I decided then and there I wanted to buy a copy of the rest of the poem. I wanted to read other books to fully appreciate the literary references. I wanted to buy the poet a long coffee so she could explain more fully the wider themes and ideas. Unlike many novels, there’s so much packed into those little lines. There’s just so much goodness.

Thanks Amy Brown. You reminded me the problem is not poetry, but what I suppose it to be.