Frankston to Portsea 55km Run 55km/34 miles
4th April 2004
| 1. | Kelvin Marshall | 4:39:58 |
| 2. | Kevin Cassidy | 5:12:33 |
| 3. | Warren Holst | 5:18:29 |
| 4. | Phil Lear | 5:25:31 |
| 5. | David Spencer | 5:27:00 |
| 6. | John Bell | 5:28:14 |
| 7. | Michelle Thompson [F] | 5:45:48 |
| 8. | Ernie Hartley | 6:25:43 |
| 9. | David Jones | 6:54:51 |
| 10. | Geoff Hook | 7:06:47 |
| 11. | Ron Hayward | 8:57:11 |
Reinhard Grussler 50km DNF
Dave Jowett 50km DNF
Priscilla Diaz [f] 42km DNF
Andrew Herman 25km DNF
Race Report by Kevin Cassidy
The car radio was dishing up Bob Dylan, Skyhooks and a rendition of Michael Jackson’s “Billie Jean” during the early morning drive down the freeway to this years Frankston to Portsea event. Given that the race starts on a street corner that is home to three night clubs, the small hours of a Sunday morning can offer some interesting sights. With the sun breaking through and a collection of runners arriving, a rather drunk and unsteady individual with a hairstyle that looked as if it had been dancing to a disco album called “Dance Crazy 2000” staggered up to the pedestrian lights and made numerous pathetic attempts at pressing the button before finally collapsing on his back in a motionless position. It looked very much as if the gangland murders of Melbourne’s northern suburbs had moved south.
I was almost overwhelmed with a larger than normal turnout of 15 starters. A precedent was set this year with a couple of early starters in Geoff Hook and Ron Hayward. Ron, a keen Hash House Harrier, intended to walk at a steady pace while the poor old Hook grizzled that he was way to slow these days and didn’t want to hold everyone up. Both commendably thoughtful acts to say the least, but they did miss out on being in the traditional photo of the start.
Although a low key event, numerous tasks are still required and it was only due to the efforts of Ian Clarke and Sandra Stewart that I was able to run myself. Between them, they tackled collecting the nominal $5 entry fee, collecting names, purchasing the goodies to give out at the finish, recording times and travelling up and down the highway keeping runners well watered…not to mention the photo taking duties. In reality, I have no right at all to refer to myself as the “Race Director” with the term “impostor” perhaps being more appropriate.
An interesting gaggle of runners had assembled including Kelvin Marshall who was dressed for the first time in something other than his green and white “Sydney Striders” singlet. Two ultra faces from the 80’s in John Bell and Phil Lear were also present, Phil having moved north 12 years ago to become part of the Queensland running mafia. Phil’s speech patterns haven’t slowed any, so he seems unaffected by the move. Back in the 60’s, you would have found Phil amongst our best distance runners matching it with the likes of Ron Clarke. Long distance truckie, David Spencer obviously doesn’t see enough bitumen and was back for another good look at the road on what was his 31st birthday. David’s plan was to meet his family at the Portsea Pub for a hearty lunch. Female runners have been a rarity over the years, so it was a pleasure to see Michelle Thompson fronting up for her first ultra while a group of three walkers in Reinhard Grussler, Dave Jowett and Priscilla Diaz were keen to enjoy the day ahead.
A notable non starter was Max “Mad Max” Gibbs, Max was claiming a knee injury and was wearing a huge bandage in a rather poor attempt at some type of visual evidence, however I have a feeling that poor Max is still suffering shock after being frightened by the jelly fish in the recent “Big Bay Swim”, an event where he lowered his colours to none other than Victorian State Premier, Steve Bracks.
With two runners already well on their way, 13 of us hit the road south at 7am for the traditional April trek down the Nepean Highway. The field soon strung out along the rolling undulations through Mornington and the rural areas of the peninsula taking in a bounteous variety of scenery. I raised my eyebrows at the mind numbing sight of a cyclist zig zagging across the highway while trying to talk on his mobile phone, he was also without a helmet and his face had that unusual appearance that brought to mind an aircraft carrier advancing through choppy seas. At approximately 25 km, the course passes the corner of the oddly named Upsndowns Road. Another kilometre down the highway is the Dromana Drive-In Sunday Market and then on to the coast at halfway. With the sun shining, the sailing boats on the rich blue water looked divine. I managed to catch up with the early starting Geoff Hook and what a sight he was, dressed in a bright yellow T-shirt, purple shorts and green socks. He was even decked out in flouro green sunscreen and looked very much like he was on his way to perform at the local circus.
Continuing down the highway through the Rosebud township at 35km and past the Jetty Café where the pizza is scrumptious [yes, I am a regular customer], the billboards on the highway are hard to ignore. “We Cater for Cowards” was the caption under a photo of a nervous looking individual at the local dental clinic while further on at a bus shelter was the confronting question of “Erection problems?” above a mournful looking man superimposed on a purple background. “See your doctor for the Performance Pak”, invited the advertisement in a sad mutation of the English language. I wondered about the exact contents of the said “Performance Pak”. Perhaps it contained yet another brand of those “Medically Proven” nasal sprays that have been designed specifically to lighten the pockets of gullible men. A little further down the road parked under a tree was a rather beaten up old van bearing Queensland number plates and a large and very ancient looking “Joh for PM” bumper sticker. The van itself was empty but the two characters nearby with meaty arms and Cowboy hats appeared the most likely owners. They looked to be very much in an 80’s time warp.
Approaching 45km and heading into Tootgarook, I managed to catch Ron Hayward who had made a 4am start. Ron was walking strongly and was looking fresh. My tiring body crawled into Sorrento at 50km to be confronted with the most hideous development of townhouses you could imagine. Right on the prime location at the bend of Point Nepean Road is an ugly collection of structures that resembles the Bates Motel in Psycho. Equally hideous, if not more so, was the bus load of tourists in loud clothes chewing ice creams while their cameras balanced on their substantially ample bellies. Why is it that tourists are always fat and dress like morons?
With just 800 metres to go, the small Portsea shopping centre was abuzz with youthful and well scrubbed kids wheeling and bouncing around on BMX bikes. I felt as if I was running through a Pepsi Cola commercial.
The finish line at the old Portsea army gates fast became a hive of activity as one by one, runners and crews arrived. Kelvin Marshall had bolted away for a huge win with Michelle Thompson coming through the field in a very well judged run to claim the Women’s line honours in her first ultra attempt. With one marathon as her only previous experience, Michelle has a load of potential ahead of her.
The two winners received the usual bottles of wine while every finisher received “finisher’s mirrors” and the long standing tradition of a block of chocolate which in an upmarket sort of way, was of a high quality Swiss brand rather than the usual Cadbury block.
With the exception of the three walkers still coming through Rosebud, everyone arrived at the finish in reasonably quick succession and headed home. The area became deserted in almost an instant before I suddenly realised that the illustrious Geoff Hook had absconded without paying his $5 entry fee! As a one time Race Director of the Bogong to Hotham run, The Hook was responsible for slugging me a $5 transport fee on four consecutive years for transport back to the start. Transport I never actually received! Yes indeed, the Hook had stitched me up again. An unscrupulous hound if I may say so myself! I shall extract some suitable revenge at a later stage!
With the three walkers still several hours from the finish, I was philosophically contemplating the change of seasons. There is a certain degree of sadness as the summer slowly disappears. Daylight savings comes to a completion and the nights start getting longer and cooler. Football dominates the newspapers and winter is just around the corner. Pretty soon, thick warm coats will re emerge from our dusty wardrobes for another winter of thermal assistance. Regardless, we still have much to be thankful for. A free country, a prosperous age, no more Cricket for six months and the fact that Stan Zemanik no longer infests Melbourne’s talk back radio are four things for which we can all be eternally grateful.
Driving back up the highway to check our walkers progress involved a visit to a McDonald’s store under the orders of a force more powerful than I! The drive-through window [or should that be Drive-THRU?] provided copious amounts of amusement. Parking the car and entering the almost empty store, I ordered a large Diet Coke, made use of the toilets and had a brief chat with the store manager as I consumed my drink. Upon leaving, I noticed that a man in a white Toyota that had been at the rear of the queue upon my arrival was still three cars back from being served! He would have been so much quicker if he had got off his rear end and walked inside. But of course he would never have thought of this because the drive through window is MEANT to be more convenient!
With the afternoon drawing to a close, a mobile phone call confirmed that our final three competitors had finished their walk somewhere between Rye and Sorrento and had arranged transport home having enjoyed their jaunt down the highway.
Undoubtedly, it will all happen again next year.