Last weekend we all go together and drove to sunny Mandurah for a boys running weekend, the inaugural one funnily enough. Bart’s parents have a beautiful holiday home on the beach in Mandurah and it has become available for the family (and close running friends) recently. This opportunity was too good to miss and on Friday afternoon the seven of us traveled down from Perth to start the shenanigans.   The plan was to run a night run on Friday , two runs Saturday and a single run Sunday morning (depending on the alcohol intake Saturday evening of course?) before returning to the ‘bosoms of our loved ones‘ Sunday afternoon.

The highlight of the Friday evening run was running through what looked like a tip in the middle of the trail. It seems the Mandurah locals like to get some fresh air and nice scenery while they illegal dump all their rubbish, bless ’em.  We made Bart’s promise to take us through this again the next day for evidence, which you’ll see later in the post, inspiring stuff.

Saturday morning we were up early, though not as early as some of my running colleagues would have liked.  They seem to have no concept of not being rushed to get in a morning run and insisting on starting in the dark, even though we had the whole weekend ahead of us. I soon put an end to this predawn start talk and I managed to hold them back until just after 7am, which was difficult. My kids are a bit older now and I seem to have more time to run, albeit I am running less being a tad older, it’s a catch-22 situation I suppose. Anyhow one of the benefits of age is older kids and the knock on effect of not being so time constrained, this equates to later start time for morning runs (virtually afternoon runs sometimes) and also more late afternoon , early evening runs.  Of course this is season dependent as in Summer 4am is the best time of the day,  before the sun turns up the dial to ‘microwave‘! Anyhow managed 19k Saturday morning,  after a double day Friday and another run planned in the afternoon,  was never interested in hitting 20k.  (sorry Strava, I am better than that !)

As I mentioned before a trip to Mandurah is not complete without the ‘run through the tip trail‘  with the added bonus of used needles to make posing for photos a life or death situation. You’ll notice for this photo I was the photographer , not the subject, a lot safer in my opinion.  The look on Bart’s face sums up this one, priceless.

Saturday afternoon was a pre-sport watching 10k for some scenery rather than distance or pace. We managed to cross a bridge and Jon was let loose to chase a few segments.  I suppose the whole weekend was more about running with good friends rather than a ‘training camp’ as such, I mean there was no talk of intervals, thresholds, VO2Max etc. We were chasing different metrics involving laughter, tall stories and making memories, we succeeded in all three categories.

That was the point of the weekend, just getting away with good friends,  doing what we all love to do without life’s timetable , albeit only for a weekend. It was the inaugural running trip, but I’m hoping the first of many because it was just good old fashioned boy’s being boy’s,  with a lot of running thrown in for good measure.

Sundays run was a 10-12k amble through Dawesville and after the previous two days , and Saturday night’s entertainment, it was always going to be steady, at best ! We did manage to find a basketball hoop and try to teach Jon about ‘NBA dunking’ but I feel his career in professional basketball is probably a non-starter?

Another highlight was meeting a local runner, Jim from Singapore, at the turn around point and his insistence on joining us. It turns out he had just started his run and was looking for company.  We’re a inclusive lot and he was welcomed aboard although the jogging pants are an acquired taste, he hung on for the last 4-5 kilometres before he was cut loose as we turned for home.

Finally a photo of the inlet on Sunday morning, as always my photography does not do it justice, stunning views. Not a breath of wind and perfect temperatures to end the weekend before we all packed up and returned to life as we know it.  As I said earlier the training weekend will be remembered for many years and there will be much laughter and back slapping as we recount stories which will probably last a lifetime, and that’s the real point of the weekend isn’t it?  For instance after knowing Jeff for nearly 20 years we found out his Chinese name , we also found out Jon’s BMW has an oil leak after it deposited a large amount of oil on the driveway, after we spent hours cleaning the house.  Jon loves playing Texas Poker , and we didn’t or don’t,  Mike K. cannot play Poker after announcing to the table he had four of a kind and was that a good hand (needless to say we all folded instantly!)  and on a Friday night watching the TV , after a meal at the local pub, there was more massage guns out than you’ll find at most physiotherapy practices.

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