I wanted to try a thing, to change things up and see if the story I had been telling myself was true.

For the longest time, I thought I can only do “flat” races, that I was just “bad a climbing”.

I wanted to see if I could change that narrative with changes in training.

I looked at my bucket list of races and thought Ultra Trail Australia might be a low risk test to see if I’m actually cut out for this mountain business.

Low risk because I’m not taking five flights and spending $20,000 to get there.

The result was a mixed bag that I’m still sorting through.

Ultra Trail Australia sits only behind the big kahuna (the actual UTMB) in participation numbers with over 8000 towing the start line over the four day festival of races. The big dance, the premier event, the 100km, had 1652 starters this year, with 2341 in the 50km that basically starts at the same time.

There’s been multiple variations over the years as organisers bend and adjust to trail conditions, landslides and stair case issues as well as complaints over trail congestion at some of the more technical and complicated sections of the course.

But it’s always followed a similar butterfly pattern through the valley, and back up, starting and finishing at Scenic World in Katoomba.

The event spans a four day period with races ranging from 11km to 100 miles (162ish km).

We drove up from Melbourne over the week leading up to the race. I wanted to take it slow since my hips and hamstrings don’t appreciate long drives anymore.

I headed to race rego and the expo on Friday to get my mandatory gear checked, drop off my drop bags and collect my bib. I was there early but it was all a pretty quick and easy process if you’re organised.

This year the race kicked with a waved and staggered start kicked off at 5:00am, with the elites of the 100km, followed by the elites of the 50km at 5:05am and going back and forth every 20 minutes until about 10:00am.

I’d never caught the shuttle service to the start before so I was slightly worried about being rushed, so despite my 6:00am start, I was there at about 4:00am!

Whilst slightly annoying, being early gave me the chance to catch up with my coach, watch them set up for the live stream and see the elite wave kick off after the welcome to country.

The weather was fresh but not overly cold and I started with a long sleeve, buff and gloves. I also started with my poles (just in case it was muddy).

At 6:00am I was off into the darkness of the morning.

We started off onto a bitumen road which quickly turned into a gravel road. This section was new and I immediately had no idea where we were going.

It didn’t take long for the faffing with gear to commence. Within the first 3km, I’d slowed to a walk to get my bib off my long sleeve and onto my tshirt and then my tshirt and eventually shove my headlamp and buff into my back.

The low cloud and fog slowly lifted over the valley as the sun came up over the infamous narrow neck track, a wide gravel road that snaked across the top of the mountains. It wasn’t steep or sharp, just relentless, runnable uphill.

It started really well, as I settled into a nice, easy pace.

People weren’t really very chatty and seemed really serious. My wave was the forth wave to kick off so they certainly weren’t elite athletes, in fact according to the organisers 47% of entrants were running their first ultra. I wondered how many of those were in the 100km.

Around 14km in I reached the infamous Tarros ladders. Outside of the race, it’s a bit of a scramble down Duncan’s pass to connect the tracks, on race day there are some very short sharp ladders. In previous years people have been stuck here in a conga line for 90 minutes, for me this year it was a less than 10 minute wait, so I wasn’t about to miss the experience, even if I hate ladders!

I shuffled along for ages, quite content in my pace, with the only slow downs being the ladders and the aid station.

There was a checkpoint at Foggy Knob before we climbed straight up to go across a ridge line known for the local indigenous folk playing a didgeridoo at the top.

This out and back that was quite rocky and technical, had people rushing and getting pissy for no apparent reason. It was 27km in with plenty of road to run. There was no need to rush.

From there it was down to the first aid station where crew was allowed at Six Foot Track. This section was new too, not the Six foot Track part or the horrid 3km climb (of stairs) up Nellie’s Glen but the out and back through the Megalong Estate winery.

I got super frustrated on the long road climb to the aid station. I remembered it from 2023 as soon as I was on it. I wanted to run/walk it but I didn’t. I did everything I could to not sit on the ground and refuse to move an inch further.

At one point, I stopped to get out my poles, got insanely frustrated at being unable to click them open properly due to everything being wet and sweaty, so threw them back in the quiver. More faffing. I was getting rid of the things as soon as I got to my drop bag.

I was surprised to see the husband at the checkpoint. I thought he would be out riding his bike and enjoying the trails.

The checkpoint was insane and I wanted to get out of there ASAP.

We got spot checked for mandatory gear going in, with the race official asking to see my long sleeve thermal top which of course was at the very bottom of my pack as it was least likely along with the thermal pants of being needed.

So out everything came, before being squished back in.

I threw as much as I could in my drop bag, including those poles and my warm starting gear and got the hell out of there. Double and triple checking that I still had all my required gear since I had to move it all around,

It got quite warm on that section and I decided that at the next water point, I’d get out another bottle and have three bottles for the long climb out.

Going into the water point, I almost got maxed out by two over eager kangaroos who were clearly perturbed by so many people being in their backyard.

And then the best thing happened, I saw this guy!

He was not very stoked to see me, but I’m sure they are always a good omen! That was my day made, I could go home now.

I was stoked to run with Cynthia from Sydney for a section on the road leading into Nellie’s. It makes it go so much quicker when you can chat with people and no one was really chatting with each other.

I was super jealous of the ladies I saw running together at the ladders. It seems like groups or pairs have a lot more fun than the rest of us.

The climb out of Nellie’s is a disgusting 3km straight up. It was muddy and slippery, but I felt so much stronger than last year, so I just kept moving.

(Ironically when I looked, I was only about 2 and a half minutes faster than 2023 when I thought I was definitely dying)

From there it was off to the Aquatic Centre, the unofficial halfway point and second crewed aid station.

I hung out here for ages in 2023, and this year I wanted to improve on stoppage time, but the checkpoint was insane and full of crew and supporters. I spent too long looking for and then queuing (not with other runners) for the bathroom.

In fairness, the race org actually did pretty well blocking off the crews from athlete areas.

By now I was starting to crack the shits with the whole race and was ready to be done, only 46km to go!

It was lucky I stashed the bakers delight scroll in my pack so I stuffed that in my face whilst I suffered through my usual low patch between 56 and 65km. Yes I tried to eat my feelings and no I’m not sorry.

The cliff top track is actually really runnable, despite the tourists but I too busy hating life and questioning all my life’s decisions to enjoy it.

The sunset was stunning though, as the valley turned shades of pink and purple.

I climbed up a set of steps and saw a photographer and a handful of supporters cheering.

“do I match the sky?” I cried out. Smiled and kept on moving.

Deep in the Leura forest, it got cold and dark prematurely. You could see the sun through the trees but not enough of it was making it to my feet to see where to put them.

I stopped with a few other runners to get out headlamps back out.

One young blokes obnoxious crew drove along side him, in the tray of their Ute, with a giant boom box and terrible music.

I wanted to beat him so badly.

The longer the race went on, the more annoying his crew got. I’m not sure he was stoked with them either to be honest. The rest of the runners around him were definitely getting annoyed by them, can’t imagine what the residents who live in those streets thought about the race.

There were two big checkpoints in the last half of the race. I left with a cup of hot veggie soup at each. I struggled to eat my sports nutrition and was surviving on the occasional lollies, sports drink and the magic soup.

But I got my mojo back at Fairmont resort, around 68km, and kept moving forward. It wasn’t pretty but I just kept telling myself I had to get to the hospital because there was a 7km downhill run from there.

I walked from 68km in 2023, this was 100% better, even if I didn’t feel like I was that far ahead.

I saw Fitz (the husband) at Queen Vic Hospital, changed into warmer clothes, got more soup and got out of there.

Fueled by soup and a messages of encouragement I got every time I came into phone reception, I bombed down the road, a good 20 minutes faster than last time,

But as soon as it started going up again I felt like I was leaning up against a wall, going no where.

All the people I passed who were walking down the hill started passing me back on the climb out.

It was so disheartening but I kept trying, that’s all I could do.

I ran when I could, I walked when I had to.

With about 5km to go, a slipped the side of my foot off a rock and it felt like a blister popped in my shoe. I haven’t had a blister in 15 years.

I ignored it for a bit before stopping to sit and try and fix it, in the dark on the side of the trail.

Sticking a bandaid to a sweaty foot in a wet sock was obviously a complete waste of time. I threw my sock back on (putting wet toe socks back on wasn’t exactly easy either) and decided to just suck it up, it was like 5k!

My watch was about a km out, so I was stoked to finally see the sign welcoming me to the beginning of the end, the bottom of the Furber Steps, only 990 odd steps and about 1km to the finish line.

It was lucky there was landings every 50 steps or so. I felt super light headed and held onto the hand railings for dear life. Pretty sure the lack of food over the previous few hours was the biggest contributor here.

Most of the sections are so steep that they are more like ladders and have hand rails on each side that you can pull yourself up with.

I played bench swapsies with a few blokes as we climbed the stairs together and did giggle at the homemade signs along the way.

And then it was over. Just like that.

I crossed the finish line in 18 hours, 35 minutes and change.

About 1 hour 20 minutes faster than 2023 and I wasn’t at all injured.

It wasn’t at all perfect, and I know I can do better, but it was what I had on the day.

I set a PR on almost every Strava segment on the course, some by seconds, some by 20 minutes.

I got all my finishes goodies and headed into the recovery tent for more soup and a bread roll (priorities) before messaging hubby, I really didn’t want to catch the bus! 🤣

I ran significantly faster than 2023, but placed much further back in the field. (Yay for women’s trail running in Australia). It’s hard to compare with the slight course changes but I’m pretty happy with the result.

It felt better overall, I felt stronger and more capable, despite the fueling issues in the back half and I enjoyed it a lot more. All wins every day of the week.

My stoppage at aid stations was slightly longer according to the official result but my standing still whilst questioning my life choices going up a hill or a set of stairs was a lot less.

So now we recover and work out what fun adventures are next on the horizon.

Last UTA, I said it was “one and done” and I questioned the sanity of folks going back for a 5th or 10th UTA.

Now…. Well I still kinda want a silver buckle.