It might seem like a natural progression for a runner to increase the distance of events they race continually. A 5km goal becomes a 10km, a half marathon, a full marathon, and an ultra marathon. The ultra-marathon was once considered the reserve of only the most hardcore enthusiasts. Not any longer, with an increasing number of competitors signing up to participate in one of the most brutal and challenging sports. Renowned author Adharanand Finn discusses the fast-growing interest in ultra-marathons in his book The Rise of the Ultra Runners.

I joined this group of enthusiasts in 2022 when I signed up to complete the Kep Ultra Marathon in May. I originally planned to run a 50km road race as part of the Bunbury 3 Waters running festival, but when this was postponed due to COVID, a 75km trail ultra seemed like a reasonable alternative.

The Kep Ultra ran from 2009 until 2022 when council restrictions made its continuation unfeasible. It was run on the Heritage Railway Trail from Mundaring, with a 75km distance turning at Mount Helena and a 100km distance turning at Wooroloo.

The 75km runners were required to turn off just after the second aid station to run a loop on the way out and back to ensure the total 75km distance was covered. Unfortunately, the second aid station was not set up yet when I ran past where it should have been. Unbeknownst to me at the time, I was also in the 75km race lead. So, all the other runners around me were running the 100km event. I missed the turnoff because I didn’t have anyone to follow, and the volunteers who would have guided me to the turnoff at the aid station weren’t there yet. I found a sign for the other end of the loop, where I should have rejoined the course, and took that turn before becoming disoriented and backtracking my way to the main trail.

I had not considered podiums or places when I signed up and began training for this ultra. I had no idea how to manage it as it was my first attempt at a distance over 42.2km. I felt strong, chatting with various runners along the route and the volunteers at the aid stations. I only realised I was in the lead when the volunteer crew at the turnaround aid station at Mt Helena told me I was the first 75km competitor. I wasn’t motivated or concerned about places, but once you know you have a lead in a race, you sure don’t want to let it slip from your grasp!

Passing the 50km mark, I knew I was well and truly into Ultra territory. I felt a huge boost as I knew I felt physically strong and was still holding the lead. I was concerned, though, as I knew I would have to make up the distance I had missed by not completing the loop on the way up through John Forrest National Park.

On the return leg, I completed the loop correctly, although I again missed the exit and came towards the aid station in the wrong direction. The volunteers asked me how I had come that way, and I told them I had missed the turnoff on the way up. They contacted the race director to find out what to do and informed me that I would have to go back and rerun the loop to avoid disqualification.

Rather than allow this to defeat me, I knew I had to maintain a positive frame of mind and complete it. Rerunning the loop would mean I added distance, as I had already run part of the loop on the way out before backtracking, but I could do nothing about it. I replenished my hydration pack, shoved some lollies into my mouth, and took off on the loop in the opposite direction to what the remaining 75km competitors would be running.

I passed the guy running in second place, explaining my error as he looked at me in total confusion as I approached him. He nodded, telling me he thought I would still win it. We wished each other well and carried on our separate ways. I was not so sure I would still hold first place.

The most challenging part of the course for me was the paved section between Swan View and Bellevue. Asphalt can be unbelievably tough on tired legs. As I came into the final aid station at Bellevue, the volunteers helped me remove what felt like half the trail’s worth of stones from my shoes, replenish my hydro pack again, and then it was another 15km push, mostly uphill, to the finish at Mundaring.

Those last 15km were spent alternating between walking and running, and I made a pact with myself to run all the downhills, only walking on the inclines. I also spent most of those last kilometres anxiously looking over my shoulder to see if I could see the guy in second place. I pushed on, my Garmin beeping at me as I clocked over 78km and crossed the finish line in outright first place. Checking behind me was a total waste of energy, as the guy running second place came some 16 minutes behind me.

My husband, who had patiently waited most of the day, was unprepared for me to arrive in the first place and had to be told by the race director twice that I was in the first place.

After removing my shoes, which had been destroyed by the trail, and pulling off the sock on my right foot, my big toe was just one giant blood blister. The race director approached me and asked about my history of running ultras. I told her this was my first and my last.

We often tell ourselves, either during or immediately after finishing a gruelling race, that we will never do that again. The problem is that a louder, more convincing voice inside of us often says, “What if…” and before we know it, we have convinced ourselves that signing up for another one is a great idea!

So, though I have repeatedly asserted my lack of FOMO to compete in another ultra, I have registered to participate in one of the most challenging ultra formats—a backyard ultra. In this format, runners complete a 6.71km loop on the hour, every hour, until there is only one runner left. So, every participant, except the last one standing, is a DNF. Stay tuned for how I train and work towards Herdy’s Frontyard Ultra in 2025