
From the relief of finishing to the joy of winning, three local runners describe their experience of the inaugural Phillip Island Festival of Running.
By Geoff Ellis
IT’S WAY too hard. That’s what the voice in my head is saying as rain on the tin roof echoes in the chill of night. I can’t run tomorrow, not in this weather.
As the rain intensifies the voice piles on. Those legs have lost the memory of running. And it’s 2000m. I’ll collapse in front of a thousand real runners and become a speed hump.
Too wet, too cold.
Too old. I’ve got a Facebook full of friends who’ll concur, so I’ll hide my carefully scuffed new shoes in that closet, in beside last century’s medals. I’ll just check to confirm the Ice Age has returned so I can spend tomorrow in our cosy cave.
Better just quickly check my emails.
Amongst the regular avalanche of virtual conversations one email, and one sentence within, reminds me that I’m part of a team. I read it a couple of times then head to that closet to ferret out my warmest track suit.
In the morning, once I’m in the car, there’s no turning back. At race registration my answer, to the question of my age, draws looks that mix awe, concern and horror.
I join the throng waiting for our race which is the last of the day. I might be the last person across that finish line. Not a bad narrative, eh?
Take a deep breath. Stretch. Breathe. Stretch.
We’re off.
Geoff Ellis was running in the 2 kilometre section.
IT’S WAY too hard. That’s what the voice in my head is saying as rain on the tin roof echoes in the chill of night. I can’t run tomorrow, not in this weather.
As the rain intensifies the voice piles on. Those legs have lost the memory of running. And it’s 2000m. I’ll collapse in front of a thousand real runners and become a speed hump.
Too wet, too cold.
Too old. I’ve got a Facebook full of friends who’ll concur, so I’ll hide my carefully scuffed new shoes in that closet, in beside last century’s medals. I’ll just check to confirm the Ice Age has returned so I can spend tomorrow in our cosy cave.
Better just quickly check my emails.
Amongst the regular avalanche of virtual conversations one email, and one sentence within, reminds me that I’m part of a team. I read it a couple of times then head to that closet to ferret out my warmest track suit.
In the morning, once I’m in the car, there’s no turning back. At race registration my answer, to the question of my age, draws looks that mix awe, concern and horror.
I join the throng waiting for our race which is the last of the day. I might be the last person across that finish line. Not a bad narrative, eh?
Take a deep breath. Stretch. Breathe. Stretch.
We’re off.
Geoff Ellis was running in the 2 kilometre section.
By Ali Wastie
I STARTED running to get some “me time” so I usually run solo. Running makes me calmer and more mindful. Out on a run, my head clears, and I forget about work life pressures, at least while I’m on the trail. I always feel better after a run and I have never regretted going out for a run no matter how hard it was at the time.
When I started at Bass Coast, I found out there was a group of colleagues who regularly ran together under the umbrella #TeamBassCoast. They invited me into their group, and I didn’t know how I would feel as I linked running with time alone and wondered if this was now at risk of being taken away.
I ran with them and I have to say the benefits of being so warmly welcomed into a group and finding commonality outside of our work has been welcomed. #TeamBassCoast allows me to bring another important part of myself to work and importantly it also allows others to see that I am not defined by a job title. I deliberately share aspects of myself that show vulnerability and normality. When we do this at work, we become more accessible and ultimately more productive because our whole self is at work, not just a component. I’m loving turning up to running events in the #TeamBassCoast running top.
I’ve run in over 30 fun runs across Victoria in the past four years and, yes, I will still do most of my runs by myself, so I get that “me time”.
The George Bass Trail – 21 km – in January 2018 was by far the hardest run I’ve completed. That and the Melbourne Marathon (42 km) in 2014. That was a bucket list thing and most likely a once off! I usually do half marathon distances so the 10 km on Phillip Island was fine. There was a slight head wind and there was a bit of water on the track at the start.
I finished 4th. I didn’t run particularly well because I haven’t been doing a lot of running of late. The scenery was spectacular and starting and finishing in the new Penguin Centre was a new experience.
I will remember cheering team members with Cr Ellis as they came through the finish line and high fiving strangers along the course. The friendliness of the runners and the organisation of the event was excellent.
Ali Wastie ran in the 10km section.
I STARTED running to get some “me time” so I usually run solo. Running makes me calmer and more mindful. Out on a run, my head clears, and I forget about work life pressures, at least while I’m on the trail. I always feel better after a run and I have never regretted going out for a run no matter how hard it was at the time.
When I started at Bass Coast, I found out there was a group of colleagues who regularly ran together under the umbrella #TeamBassCoast. They invited me into their group, and I didn’t know how I would feel as I linked running with time alone and wondered if this was now at risk of being taken away.
I ran with them and I have to say the benefits of being so warmly welcomed into a group and finding commonality outside of our work has been welcomed. #TeamBassCoast allows me to bring another important part of myself to work and importantly it also allows others to see that I am not defined by a job title. I deliberately share aspects of myself that show vulnerability and normality. When we do this at work, we become more accessible and ultimately more productive because our whole self is at work, not just a component. I’m loving turning up to running events in the #TeamBassCoast running top.
I’ve run in over 30 fun runs across Victoria in the past four years and, yes, I will still do most of my runs by myself, so I get that “me time”.
The George Bass Trail – 21 km – in January 2018 was by far the hardest run I’ve completed. That and the Melbourne Marathon (42 km) in 2014. That was a bucket list thing and most likely a once off! I usually do half marathon distances so the 10 km on Phillip Island was fine. There was a slight head wind and there was a bit of water on the track at the start.
I finished 4th. I didn’t run particularly well because I haven’t been doing a lot of running of late. The scenery was spectacular and starting and finishing in the new Penguin Centre was a new experience.
I will remember cheering team members with Cr Ellis as they came through the finish line and high fiving strangers along the course. The friendliness of the runners and the organisation of the event was excellent.
Ali Wastie ran in the 10km section.
By Tom McNish
“THIS is going to be a beautiful run that will take you on trails that aren’t usually available to the public,” announced Brett, the event host, “so don’t rush it, enjoy it.”
I thought to myself “I’ll enjoy the scenery after I finish. This is a long race and I’m going to pace myself.”
4.30 min/km was my usual pace for a long run, which usually spanned 18-25 kms. Doing this once a week for most of this year, I was “comfortable” heading into the 50 km event. Starting out, I was aware of previous experience from the Melbourne marathon 2017 – blowing up at 32 km and the Prom 100 – entering a world of hurt for the last third of that race.
Thomas ‘Long-limbs’ Lumb set a strong pace. All six foot three of him was muscle. He was trailed by a smaller marathon runner, Kiwi.
With warm intensity, good preparation and ambition, it seemed like we were back running through the festival in no time. 20 km in, pace was consistent, we were on track.
Kiwi upped the tempo, testing my patience. Should I go?
Rounding a hill, I paced to close his gap. Thomas didn’t have the legs to follow.
We returned to the shores of Ventnor. Head wind and sand.
Here the “not-so-sand-friendly” Thomas drifted back.
Now Kiwi, myself and a gaining EarPods runner. We were taking turns leading the pack, allowing slip stream for the runners behind.
Off the beach, relief.
South, on Berrys Beach Road.
A brief acceleration, post aid stand, left Kiwi and me to our own devices.
The breeze and friendly road surface sailed to Berry’s Beach.
As we were competing in different events, our roles so far had been as team-mates.
But the 30 km mark meant the end of that journey.
Solo now.
Now I set the pace, and it was slowing.
Alone – I continued my running. I continued my nutrition.
Glancing over my shoulder it seemed EarPods wasn’t gaining.
Mine and Kiwi’s path crossed, “Looking strong, mate,” he said. “You too,” I replied.
Though I was feeling weaker as the kilometres pressed, his form was still solid. Perhaps mine looked consistent too.
Sucking on gels each half-hour, fruit cake and an aid stand’s ‘TNT’ Coke. I persisted. My hips were fatiguing but as the Coke settled I found some rhythm.
Finishing at Penguin’s Parade beach, I was the clear leader. I had slowed down, but so had second place.
Tom McNish won the 50km event.
“THIS is going to be a beautiful run that will take you on trails that aren’t usually available to the public,” announced Brett, the event host, “so don’t rush it, enjoy it.”
I thought to myself “I’ll enjoy the scenery after I finish. This is a long race and I’m going to pace myself.”
4.30 min/km was my usual pace for a long run, which usually spanned 18-25 kms. Doing this once a week for most of this year, I was “comfortable” heading into the 50 km event. Starting out, I was aware of previous experience from the Melbourne marathon 2017 – blowing up at 32 km and the Prom 100 – entering a world of hurt for the last third of that race.
Thomas ‘Long-limbs’ Lumb set a strong pace. All six foot three of him was muscle. He was trailed by a smaller marathon runner, Kiwi.
With warm intensity, good preparation and ambition, it seemed like we were back running through the festival in no time. 20 km in, pace was consistent, we were on track.
Kiwi upped the tempo, testing my patience. Should I go?
Rounding a hill, I paced to close his gap. Thomas didn’t have the legs to follow.
We returned to the shores of Ventnor. Head wind and sand.
Here the “not-so-sand-friendly” Thomas drifted back.
Now Kiwi, myself and a gaining EarPods runner. We were taking turns leading the pack, allowing slip stream for the runners behind.
Off the beach, relief.
South, on Berrys Beach Road.
A brief acceleration, post aid stand, left Kiwi and me to our own devices.
The breeze and friendly road surface sailed to Berry’s Beach.
As we were competing in different events, our roles so far had been as team-mates.
But the 30 km mark meant the end of that journey.
Solo now.
Now I set the pace, and it was slowing.
Alone – I continued my running. I continued my nutrition.
Glancing over my shoulder it seemed EarPods wasn’t gaining.
Mine and Kiwi’s path crossed, “Looking strong, mate,” he said. “You too,” I replied.
Though I was feeling weaker as the kilometres pressed, his form was still solid. Perhaps mine looked consistent too.
Sucking on gels each half-hour, fruit cake and an aid stand’s ‘TNT’ Coke. I persisted. My hips were fatiguing but as the Coke settled I found some rhythm.
Finishing at Penguin’s Parade beach, I was the clear leader. I had slowed down, but so had second place.
Tom McNish won the 50km event.

How did it go?
Geoff Ellis: I finished. Second in category! (admittedly a very small category). I reckon that's pretty damn cool. Can't wait for my first Park Run.
Ali Wastie: The run at Phillip Island was extra special as it was on our turf. I’m biased, but the course scenery was the best I’ve experienced, or at least on par with the George Bass Trail run.
Tom McNish: Joy 😊 I hadn’t won a running race since high school.
So who’s in for next year?
Geoff Ellis: I finished. Second in category! (admittedly a very small category). I reckon that's pretty damn cool. Can't wait for my first Park Run.
Ali Wastie: The run at Phillip Island was extra special as it was on our turf. I’m biased, but the course scenery was the best I’ve experienced, or at least on par with the George Bass Trail run.
Tom McNish: Joy 😊 I hadn’t won a running race since high school.
So who’s in for next year?