ISSUE 47 | TRAILRUNMAG.COM
MUTTERINGS, HALLUCINATIONS & A
Pirate
SOMETIMES THINGS GO ‘WEIRD’ WHEN THERE’S AN ULTRA RUN INVOLVED. AND BY WRONG, WE MEAN THE BRAIN STARTS TO GET EXHAUSTED JUST LIKE THE REST OF THE BODY, AND THE EXPERIENCE CAN LEAD TO TEMPORARY CHANGES IN SENSES. IN OTHER WORDS – HALLUCINATIONS. PAUL WATKINS TAKES US ON A JOURNEY INTO HIS MOST RECENT ENCOUNTER WITH A WORLD RENOWN PIRATE WHILST RUNNING THE 105MI YOU YANGS TRAIL ULTRA. WORDS: PAUL WATKINS IMAGES: BRETT SAXON
When I crossed the finish line of the You Yangs Hardcore 105mi Trail Ultra in 2022, I immediately swore I’d never return.
negotiations that went on in my brainpan when the chips were down, the finish line was nowhere in sight and it had all gone pear shaped.
Ever.
2:52am
But we know the truth don’t we? That these sworn statements of never again setting foot on this God-forsaken, soul devouring, hellscape of a course aren’t really as set in stone as we think they are.
I lay on my back, staring up at a relatively cloudless sky on a warm summer evening. Blood began to flow ever so slowly out of the newly minted grazes on my left knee and elbow – oozing out at a pace that seemed to mimic my level of enthusiasm for the situation I now find myself in.
More like etched into sand. Time and tide wearing away the edges until all that remains is the word ‘again’. Because all things ultra are simply an ongoing act of negotiation. Here's a little insight into the kind of
I was in the middle of the dusty trail that marked the eastern boundary of the You Yangs Regional Park. I’d been running/ jogging/power-hiking for the last 19 hours non-stop and had just managed to trip over the one and only rock that was
embedded in the trail at that particular point. The level of skill required to trip on that exact rock was not lost on me – this section of the trail was several metres wide, relatively flat and pretty much devoid of anything that could even remotely be considered a tripping hazard, even by the most ardent of health and safety officers. Yet unwaveringly I had managed to seek out that one tiny obstacle, unceremoniously driving my right big toe into it and simultaneously managing to not only up-end myself but also convince the toenail of said big toe that based on the sheer level of abuse I had subjected it to over the preceding 19 hours that it would be in its best interests to 73
