A AA SM T LPEIM AS I NHEI P , SV I C T O R I A WUOSRTLRDA LO IRAI N E N3T- EDEARYISN G– CC H ON
WOC QUEEN
Through the gate I ran in what I would describe as a mildly mad panic. This was certainly what I would call chaos and there was no organisation to it. Everywhere we ran there were obstacles and barriers. Small gardens with frustratingly small yet ‘impassable’ hedges, waterways, ice-cream stalls, TV cameras, ferris wheels, and athletes darting around like headless chooks. The best description of it all would have to be a carnival.
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Somehow I survived the madness and found myself running strongly down a road through the Danish forest with no other than Simone Niggli. Glancing over my shoulder I noticed her discomfort in the moment and perhaps this was the changing point of the whole day because I suddenly found an inner gear. Stepping up the pace and taking control I found myself believing for the first time that I was as good, if not better, than her. I had found my own feet at last.
Hanny Allston – World Sprint Champion RIENTEERING can be a funny thing. You can be so prepared, so organised, so confident and yet the whole course can fall apart with one little slip of the concentration. This little dilemma is only emphasised in a Sprint race. What was a small one-minute mishap in a Long-distance event can become a huge ‘thud’ to earth in a sprint…and that is precisely why I have to admit that sprinting isn’t really my thing! You see I am a relatively methodical person. I like organisation. I don’t like chaos so if it has to be present then it must be organised chaos. I like to be a bit more scientific than philosophical although I still believe it is healthy to daydream once in a while. I am always early and never late, over prepared rather than under prepared, and have to know which direction Australia is no matter where in the world I am. So sprinting goes against all my belief patterns. It defies the organised world I live in. And that is precisely why one week out from the World Orienteering Championships in Denmark I was on the phone to Grant Bluett claiming, “But why? I hate sprints! PLEASE… the middle distance is much more my style!” But thank goodness for Orienteering Australia and their fair rules. If I had had my way I doubt there would have been a gold medal for orienteering in Australia, our anthem sung, and Simone Niggli-Luder standing in 2nd on the podium. So how did it all happen? Why me? The day dawned early for me. I could feel a tingling pulse echoing through me and that slightly discomforting ache of nerves in my legs. I rolled over, glanced at the flag hanging in my window and beyond that the patchy grey clouds of a Scandinavian sky. Perfect. Once out of bed I began feeling better and darted out the door for a short thirty-minute jog. Whilst prancing along through the nearby forest, dodging bright orange slugs the size of cucumbers, I shot quick glances at the back of my hand: ‘Calm, disciplined, strong’ These were the words I had jotted down the night before. They were the three deciding words…the three words between me and a super performance. But from the moment I picked up my map at the start of the qualification and left the gaping athletics stadium behind, little went to plan. I found myself running out across the carpark rather than following the line of the stadium, found myself coming to a halt in front of a huge impassable fence, running…running…and with little method to my madness. And what was that?!! As I ran across the manicured oval I found myself glancing ahead at the end of the course. ‘Tivelli? Surely not’. But it was surely so and I am sure as sure that no athlete had picked it! We were entering the theme park.
I learnt a lot from that Sprint race qualification. Rather than fussing over my countless mistakes earlier in the course I began to feel a quiet calmness. I had seen Simone in action. Watched her run into barriers, fluster, and best of all heard her puffing along beside me…perhaps she was human after all. After a summer that can only be described as difficult and lifechanging I feel a changed person. Not immensely, and not necessarily externally. But I have found a calmness and strength that I never knew I possessed plus an ability to push myself harder and faster. I carried this strength and my new-found belief into the Sprint final like a shield. I don’t remember much, to be honest, of that race except this deep calmness from the moment I picked up the map. This was organised chaos at its best! The methodical individual was at work inside me and I found myself running with 100% certainty. The garden beds that had stumped me in the morning were floating effortlessly past me and the high fences which seemed to lean against me in the morning no longer presented such grave defences. I felt light, strong and in control. And the happiest moment of all was arriving early to the finish line! This gold medal was more than an individual’s World Championship title…I believe this was just the ribbon holding onto the gold medal. My win was the exit from the valley of the summer and the beginning of opportunities for everyone involved. To me it represents the strength and calmness that I have established, certainty in the decisions I have made, and the enjoyment and friendships I have gathered along the way. It also represents the efforts of the whole orienteering community in Australia. All of us at some point have either been athletes, organisers, parents, or all of the above. And without us there would be no competitors to practice against, no events organised, and no friendships made. So thankyou to everyone for sharing this journey and let us hope that this is just the signpost pointing towards many higher peaks. Happy days. Hanny Photos: Eric Morris OCTOBER 2006 THE AUSTRALIAN ORIENTEER 3
