Well this is not the race report I was hoping to write, but it is perhaps the most I have ever learnt while running on the trails. It turned out to be a lesson in how to suffer!

I had spent the best part of 20 weeks training for this Kosci race which is by far the most time I have dedicated to training since my last UTA100 event back in 2018. My training had gone pretty much according to plan. I had raced the UTA22 back in May with some 80-90km training weeks for that, then backed it up with another 12 weeks of 90km – 110km interspersed with some good recovery weeks. Almost textbook training.

I had even come up with a new nutrition plan which I was confident was going to work well. My nutrition had been dreadful at the Unreasonable East miler in 2022, so I felt like I needed a strategy to improve this aspect of my racing. Over the final 8 weeks of training I settled on a combination of Pure, Precision, and Maurten Gels combined with some Pure electrolyte and carbohydrate drink. I thought this would at least get me to half way and I could switch to coke from there.

Race day dawned beautifully. We drove through some thick fog on the way up to Perisher and broke through the clouds just as we arrived at the start line. There were already hundreds of runners soaking up the atmosphere while they queued for coffee and the bathrooms. It was about 14 degrees celsius, so perfect running weather, although I was worried it might get a bit warm like it had been the day before during the Kosci30 and Kosci50 events.

The race started with a 2-3km loop around Perisher Village to help spread the runners before the single track started. The single track was a gentle but consistent 16km climb up to the first checkpoint at Charlotte Pass. I really enjoyed this part of the course and loved the spectacular views, but I wasn’t feeling 100%. I had a cloudy head and wasn’t sure why. My heart rate was sitting consistently at 160-164bpm which was significantly higher than it should have been given my pace. I was also hyper aware of the rocky trail surface. It is made of granite rocks that have been sunken into the ground to make a nice, but very uneven path.

I had trained mostly on fire trail thinking the Kosci100 would be a mostly runnable and relatively flat race given it “only” has 3000m of vert. Turns out these rocky paths make up a lot of the course, they are quite technical, and they beat your legs up if you are not used to them.

I got to checkpoint 1, and feeling somewhat dazed, took a while to find my wife, Kylie, who was waiting with a couple of soft flasks and fresh gels for me. According to her I was the only one who looked dazed. Not the start I was hoping for!

From CP1 we made our way up a sealed road for about a mile which then turned into a very runnable firetrail leading from Charlotte Pass to the top of Kosci. I was running and chatting with a couple of blokes up this section – until they both dropped me.

I wasn’t feeling bad at this stage, but I certainly wasn’t feeling good. To help cheer myself up, and to run in the spirit with which I intended, which was to enjoy the race and try to take in the scenery, I took a video running up to the peak of Kosci. It really is a spectacular place. It reminds me quite a lot of the top of the Kepler Mountain range in New Zealand where I grew up and spent a lot of time racing back in my 20’s.

From the top of Kosci you double back about 600-700m and then turn left onto the main range track that eventually leads back around to Charlotte Pass again.  This is all high alpine running with spectacular scenery and large sections of the infamous “cheese graters” which you really don’t want to fall over on. Broken fingers and very deep lacerations are the result of even a minor stumble on these metal walkways.

I got through this section unscathed in terms of falls, but not great in terms of brain fog or energy levels. I did have a brief pick me up when I ran past Tom Landon-Smith who was out on course marking duties. After a quick high five and confirming that I was feeling average, I carried on to CP2, crossing over the iconic Snowy River on the way and suffering from a huge adductor cramp as I stepped over the rocks. I wasn’t even at 40km and my head was foggy and I was cramping. I was pretty quickly turning from having a racing mindset into a strategy of trying to limit the damage.

I have had plenty of rough spells in a lot of races and always come out of them, so I figured if I slowed down a bit and ate more food, that I would come right and hopefully not lose too many places in the process.

CP2 was at 40km and according to Kylie I had eaten less than half of what I should have, couldn’t really talk properly and didn’t look very good at all. I was feeling bad, but probably still confident that things would come right.

I stumbled (literally) out of CP2, down the steep little trail back towards the Snowy River crossing, before hooking right onto the cheesegrater single track leading to CP3 and Guthegar Village. As I stepped onto the cheesegrater my right calf went “bang” – severe cramp but not an injury, then 2 steps later my left adductor also cramped, then my left calf followed. I walked a few steps, drank some electrolytes and mixed up my stride as much as I could to try and keep the cramp under control. Running with a big heel strike on my right leg was just enough to keep the right calf from completely locking up.

I managed to keep moving slowly but consistently over this section and even caught one poor bloke who had been heaving up his breakfast about an hour earlier along the main range track. We spoke briefly, but he passed me again and disappeared off into the distance leaving me and my increasingly miserable state of mind to suffer alone.

During this section to Guthegar there were some pretty loud claps of thunder coming from high above me. The race director had warned of some potential storms when we were gathered on the start line, so this wasn’t unexpected. I didn’t think too much about it though, I just needed to keep trudging on.

CP3 was called “Base Camp” located somewhere in Guthegar Village. This was a tricky spot for support crew to get to, so I wasn’t expecting to see Kylie. She was going to meet me at the next check point. I drank a 500ml flask of coke and filled up another flask with coke and one with water.  As I left CP3 I could hear the thunder rumbling.

The next 3-4km section was on a rough and off-camber grass track which my cramping legs didn’t enjoy. That lead onto the main Guthegar access road which I was running down when a white ute pulled up beside me and the driver said, “jump in, the race is postponed”. Initially I thought he was joking. He then said, “I’ve got three runners in here already, jump in”. The back door of the ute opened and sure enough, there were three runners in there, including the leader of the miler, Mike Carol, who had sped past me a few minutes earlier.

My legs were cramping so badly I couldn’t actually get in the ute, so I asked if I could sit in the tray! Mike then very kindly gave me one of his fizzy electroyte tablets you normally stick in a soft flask. I chewed on that, and it switched off the cramp enough to be able to climb into the back seat.

We were driven back to the Base Camp checkpoint and informed that the race was on hold until the storm past. We were told that lightening was actually striking the ground on the top part of the course near the summit of Kosci, so halting the race was definitely a good idea. Much better to have a short race, or in fact no race, than some dead runners. It is impressive that the organisers managed to do this, plus restart the race again 2 hours later re-routing some of the runners to avoid them running into more storms.

There must have been at least 200 runners stuck at basecamp not really knowing what to do. I had a cup of noodle soup and a strong coffee, followed by another cup of soup and then another coffee, 500mls of coke and 500mls of water. Time for a new fueling strategy!

After about 2hrs we were informed that the race would restart in 10 minutes.  So off we went, back down the grass track that I had hated 2 hours ago, but this time it didn’t feel quite as bad. I think the 2 hour rest probably saved my race rather than ruined it, although I wasn’t moving all that well because after 100 metres I had already drifted quite a long way back in the field. Now my mindset changed from a game of limiting the damage to one of pure survival.

I hobbled into CP4 at 62km very pleased to see Kylie so I could have a quick whinge about how bad I was feeling. She swapped my flasks quickly, told me to grab some salt sachets and sent me on my way. I walked out of CP4 chugging my way through another 500mls of coke hoping it would give me a spike of energy and enthusiasm. It didn’t work!

Cp4 to CP5 is a twisty turny newly built single track, leading from Perisher down to Bullocks Flat. In normal circumstances I think this track would be lovely, but not today! About 5km down the hill I heard a big clap of thunder over my right shoulder and then the rain started pelting down. Could the race be called off? I started to hope that might be the case!

CP5 was at 75km. I had ambitiously thought it might be difficult for Kylie to make the 40-45min drive from Perisher to Bullocks plus park the car and fill up some soft flasks before I got there. I needn’t have worried. I think she’d had a nap and read a book by the time I limped in. I said to her “I actually don’t think I can make it to the finish line, I’m going to have to walk the rest of the way”. She said “you’ll be fine, just keep moving”. Thanks Kylie. (She told me later that she didn’t think I would finish either!)

She made me drink a 500ml bottle of iced coffee at CP6 which turned out to be a bit of a saviour.

CP5 to CP6 was a short 7.5km gently uphill grind on the Thredbo Valley Track which was not accessible to support crew. I hadn’t touched any food since CP5 so I skipped CP6 in favour of keeping moving.

CP6 to CP7 was a continuing gentle uphill grind in what tuned out to be about 80% shuffling and 20% walking. I saw a few other runners during this section and they were pretty much doing the same thing, so I figured we were probably all feeling about the same. The rain had been steadily falling this whole time, so the track was turning into a river in some places with frequent ankle deep muddy puddles. I was a bit nervous of rolling an ankle in a pot hole, so the fear of this probably helped me focus.

CP7 was at 93km on the Village Green in Thredbo village where Kylie was thankfully waiting with more coke, a bottle of strawberry milk, and a lot of patience. I was about 4hrs later than predicted given the 2 hour storm delay and my dismal running speed.  We should have been at the pub eating dinner by now! I grabbed my poles at CP7. I knew the last section was going to be tough, and I was feeling extremely crappy, so I thought poles would probably help, which they did.

I think the strawberry milk combined with the knowledge that this was the last leg of the race revived my spirits. The trail was steep, technical, extremely muddy and it was rapidly getting dark, so I walked/hiked as fast as I could manage. I made it to Dead Horse Gap, where the track swung around to head to the top of the Thredbo ski-field called “Eagles Nest”. Half way up this section it became dark enough to need my head torch, so that came out and on I marched through a deep trench of running water. I got above the tree line and could see a few head torches behind me. Luckily I had donned my rain jacket at the Village Green (thanks Kylie) – it was now quite windy, raining heavily and getting very cold.

Before long I could see the lights of Eagles Nest through the mist and knew that it wasn’t long until I’d have a nice little 4km decent down to the finish line. I felt somewhat cheered, but then threw up twice, fell over and snapped one of my poles in half. I had been trying not to vomit for 60k, so I think the excitement of thinking I would probably finish, and realising I could do it on no food was enough for my stomach to give up on me!

I passed through Eagles Nest where some brave and happy officials were ringing cowbells, cheering loudly and getting drenched in the downpour.

The Thredbo descent ended up being a 10-15 min/km hobble down some very steep uneven stairs which were interspersed with tree roots and all manor of tripping hazards. Having only one pole functioning wasn’t helpful. After what felt like an eternity, I crossed the finish line to some loud cheers, the awesome commentators on the microphones and a very relieved wife.

We got in the car and drove home. That was without question the hardest and most unpleasant day I have ever spent on the trails. I’ve had dark moments in races that can last 20-30kms some times, but never for an entire race.

So what went wrong? Was it the altitude? Was I sick? Was my nutrition really that bad? It was probably a combination of all of these things which lead to what turned out to be a really bad day out!

Now . . . looking back on it four days later . . . I’m just glad to have finished.

Thanks to www.sportograf.com for race photos