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The Rottenest (Half) Marathon

by Jonathan Trope

What a dish of ointment! I thought that when Basil Hanna (who has tried very hard to be accepted as a Strider but keeps on being thrown back into the West Australian Marathon Club) invited me to come and run the "Island Marathon" I was going to one of those idyllic settings somewhere in the Pacific where every day is better than anything Queensland can put on. I was amazed to find that I first had to go to Perth (a long way from Australia) and then catch a ferry across to what some mate of mine in WA described as "the desert with fringe benefits".

The ferry trip should have been the first warning; I nearly got sick after 10 minutes and still had 20 to go. Good thing I've got my Doctor and Nurse with me, I thought as the ferry rocked and rolled, pitched and yawed its way across the swells whipped up by the "Freo Doctor" which is well known to all those who follow Australia's cricket fortunes (or misfortunes as they seem to be at present).

Then into the Lodge at Rotto where the room nearly claimed my life as I slipped on the carpet at the entrance (after ½ a glass of wine with dinner) and then thankfully sank into a soft bed where I recovered from the rigours of Transcontinental travel.

The Saturday was spent aimlessly cycling around the island looking at the flora and fauna (apart from birds and quokkas there's not a lot) and having a couple of swims and snorkelling attempts at the various beaches. Then, the BIG event, the pasta party, where Basil told some awful jokes and everyone was very polite and we all went to bed early to miss the second course.

Sunday dawn was a bit humid with promise of a helluva hot day and I reckoned that it was a good thing there was a lot of water along the route. I jogged to the start (½ k) as a warm-up and this was mistake No 1 because I never warm up for a marathon; I get warm enough at the start since I'm so slow off the mark.

There must have been about 100 runners of various shapes (mostly odd, I may say) but a couple of guys who looked like they may be able to run a bit. You know how it is, you meet someone who looks like Peter Corte and then he runs like Phil Hugill. So I lined up with the Hugill look alikes and bingo, we were off and they were already 200m behind me but ol' Fatty Corte was blazing away down the route, streets ahead already!

I took no notice of anyone and that was good 'cause they took no notice of me either and I proceeded to set my own pace at around 4:10 per k. This was not as easy as you may think because the first marker was at the 5k point (at least it was in the right place, not like our illustrious Sydney Marathon). At around 2k I felt a slight twinge in my left hamstring which then proceeded down the leg and lodged itself in the Achilles for a k or so before going away completely. All OK I said (mistake No 2) and carried on happily.

No problems at all during the next 8k or so at which point one goes past the start as the course is a four lap affair (1 x 13.5 and then 3 x 9.5). I was "looking good" according to all the yokels and feeling great according to my demented head (mistake No 3). At 21.1k, which I passed in 87:10, I decided that today was going to be my day (mistake No 4) and I started making plans how to spend the prize money (I actually decided to fly back to the mainland instead of chancing the ferry again).

Then I passed some young bloke (under 40) into 6th place overall and made up my mind that I'd just keep going at this leisurely pace and give it a real blast for the last 8 or so k's (mistake No 5). I was toddling along just fine as I passed the 23k imaginary mark and then "twang" I popped a hammy! I couldn't believe it as this has never happened to me before so I walked for a bit and then tried to jog only to stop very quickly again. In retrospect this was not mistake No 6.

Dejectedly, I went back to the Start/Finish and tried to get some commiseration from the crowd and officials but alas, all they said was "there's the medical tent, mate". I moped around for a bit, iced my leg, went back to the room and had a shower, breakfast and then back to the Finish to cheer in the winner.

Now I know what it's like to be one of the fast guys - you are all clean and tidy when the others come in and you can be so condescending and ever so nice to them in their agony. The race went on for hours (as usual) but it got really hot, over 30 degrees I believe and they still had a 5 and 10k fun run at 10:30 can you believe?

So there was my half marathon, not my best but I guess the first at Rottnest. Seriously though, the whole weekend was great. The venue is superb, the race was well organised, the people were friendly even though I was from the East Coast, and the scenery and serenity of Rottnest are really worth the trip. Particular thanks to the WA Marathon Club, especially Basil and Chris who arranged the hotel, the race, the pasta party, the weather and especially the ice for the leg!

It's not the worst run, it's the Rottenest!