Frankston to Portsea Ultra Run – 55km, on the picturesque Mornington Peninsula, south of Melbourne. Australia’s oldest surviving ultra marathon. The race commemorates the long Sunday training run used for many years by the great athletics coach, Percy Cerutty. Simply turn up to run, earn your traditional finisher’s chocolate and etch your name into the long history of this run.
Where: Frankston to Portsea on the picturesque Mornington Peninsula, south of Melbourne. Starting on the south-east corner of the Nepean Hwy and Davey St. Frankston. There is no entry fee.
Status: Australia’s oldest surviving ultra marathon. The race commemorates the long Sunday training run used for many years in the 50s and 60s by the great athletics coach, Percy Cerutty.
When: Traditionally first Sunday in April unless Easter Sunday, in which case it will be the second [or possibly third] Sunday.
How Long in Existence: Since 1973.
Due to insurance and safety issues, the 38th Frankston to Portsea run in 2010 was the last official race. However, since 2010, a handful of runners have gathered each year to maintain the tradition by running the original course in the “Fat Ass” style of no entry fees, no publicity and definitely no fanfare. This they do of their own accord. As for the Fat Ass version, No entry forms are needed. Just arrive for the 7am start at the corner of Davey Street and the Nepean Highway in Frankston, a bayside suburb of Melbourne (Melway ref. Map 102 C2) and meet in the car park behind the night club on the south east corner. All standards of runners/walkers are welcome. Take as long as you like (we promise to wait for you!). If you think you may take longer than eight hours then you are welcome to make an early start but please let me know if you prefer this option. The traditional finishers block of chocolate is still handed out.
The Incomparable History of the Frankston to Portsea run(By Kevin Cassidy)
Frankston to Portsea started in 1973, when Ross Shilston, Kon Butko and Scotty (Kon's dog) decided to run from their Frankston homes to Portsea. There were no bells and whistles, no aid stations, marshals or bling. Frankston to Portsea is run in memory of Percy Wells Cerutty (best known as the eccentric coach who helped take Herb Elliott to win the 1500m at the 1960 Rome Olympics). Percy Cerutty was born in Melbourne in 1895. By 1938 Percy’s health was at its lowest. He obtained a medical certificate giving him 6 months leave from work, he gave up smoking and fasted for three days. By the end of 1939 he felt strong enough to join the Melbourne Walking Club. In 1945, Percy ran 1,674 miles. Once, he disappeared for weeks on end, undertaking a 500 mile hike that took him to the summit of Mt Kosciuszko. On 29 December 1945 at age 50, he ran a marathon at Albert Park in 3:02:20 and continued to complete 30 miles in 3:34:06.
Percy went on to become one of the greatest athletics coaches of all time, with his famous base in the sand dunes of Portsea. He was ahead of his time with weight training, diet & nutrition, sports psychology, running barefoot up and down sand-dunes; and long runs for middle distance athletes, a practice later adopted by Arthur Lydiard. Until his death on 15 August 1975, Cerutty lived at Portsea where his teachings impacted on all areas of Australian sport, including, swimming, tennis, cycling, and football.
Percy went on to become one of the greatest athletics coaches of all time, with his famous base in the sand dunes of Portsea. He was ahead of his time with weight training, diet & nutrition, sports psychology, running barefoot up and down sand-dunes; and long runs for middle distance athletes, a practice later adopted by Arthur Lydiard. Until his death on 15 August 1975, Cerutty lived at Portsea where his teachings impacted on all areas of Australian sport, including, swimming, tennis, cycling, and football.
Pre-race –
I was actually feeling a little bit nervous after performing so poorly at Brimbank 50km two weeks prior. I was suffering from PMS at Brimbank (which really affected my run because I was nauseous), so I naturally assumed I wouldn’t still be hormone-affected at Frankston to Portsea. I thought wrong :( Anyway… I organised my gear the night before including shorts, singlet, calf compressions and Hoka Cliftons. I prepared food for my crew (Brad and our boys) consisting of vegemite sandwiches, At One bars, chocolate, salt and vinegar chips, water, sparkling water, Coke, electrolytes, salt tablets and other random snacks. I asked my family to meet me somewhere between 10-15km, and bunny hop until the finish. I carried my iPod, At One bar and a small amount of water. The forecast was approximately 26 degrees, which was perfect running weather for me. However, running in 26 degrees for over 5 hours was hot enough to cause significant dehydration. I knew I had to keep my fluids up!
Race day –
In the morning I woke about 5:30am and (once again), my running buddy Chris picked me up (about 6:30am). We drove the full 5 minutes to The Deck on the corner of Davey Street and Nepean Hwy, Frankston. This was my hood (and in previous years, I might have stumbled out of the Deck around 5am once or twice before)! Chris ran strong at Brimbank, and he was ready to repeat his success at Frankston to Portsea. My goal was to run under 6 hours. I also wanted to run as long as possible (without walk breaks). At 7am, Kevin Cassidy (race director) gathered all runners (about a dozen of us) at the start line and delivered an informal briefing. He counted down and we casually began running (and chatting) along Nepean Hwy. Usually when running (or walking), commonsense tells us to face traffic (and use footpaths where possible). In this case, we ran in the same direction as the cars and avoided paths. This allowed for crew to follow us and make themselves easily accessible. From the very beginning, I ran smoothly and my body felt relatively good. I had no loud aches or pains (and only a few hormonal symptoms like bloating and a constant need to go the toilet)! My plan was to ignore my digestive system and coax my body to direct blood to my legs, heart and lungs! I continued slowly up Olivers Hill and through Mt. Eliza. I was comfortable with my surroundings because I drive Nepean Hwy everyday to take my boys to school. I was calm and focused on deep belly breathing. The intention was to relax my neck and shoulders, and protect my scalenes and ribs from stress. It worked well.
I reached 10km in about 55min and the only issue was digestion! Just after 10km, I saw Brad (and our boys) parked on the side of the road, waving to me. I asked Brad to run with me for a minute, and told him I was stopping at the McDonalds just up the road (because I needed a loo stop) and I requested Gastro-Stop! On return, I noticed three runners had passed me. It didn’t really bother me, but I was a little frustrated with my body for flushing valuable minutes down the toilet! I reached 15km in 1hr 25min with everything still feeling relaxed and comfortable. I was happily consuming ‘real food’ every time I saw my crew. After nausea from gels (at Brimbank), my plan was eat food (and limit glucose). Around 16km, I reached a hill in Mt. Martha (which I was expecting), and plodded along for the next three kilometres. At this stage, I turned my iPod on and meditated to the sound of background music. My running playlist has everything from Metallica to Casting Crowns. I don’t listen to music often (I usually listen to audiobooks) but I was in-between books. I ran carefully on the side of the road, as the bike lane disappeared and I became more aware of passing traffic. It was a little hairy but I was composed and confident.
I ticked off 20km in less than 2 hours and shortly afterwards, I crossed the bridge that traffic followed to enter the M1. Kevin Cassidy was parked on the other side of the roundabout and directed me straight through along Nepean Hwy. A bit further on, I spotted Brad and my eldest son doing the Fortnite dance (commonly known as ‘flossing’). This made me laugh. I grabbed whatever food and drink Brad provided, and continued chugging along. At this point, I’d been running for 2hrs 15min and a fellow runner (Adam) caught up to me. We talked for a bit until we saw his support person and he veered off. I reached Point Nepean Rd (28km) and turn left towards Portsea. There were a few people meandering in front of me, but I was running slow enough to navigate my way forward. At 30km, my Garmin read 2hrs 46min and I was happy with my progress. I sat back and enjoyed the beautiful Mornington Peninsula views throughout Dromana and Rosebud. About six years ago, we moved from Ferntree Gully (bottom of the Dandenong Ranges) to Frankston South. A couple of years after that, I began working in Mornington and spending as much time as possible appreciating our ocean scenery. Undeniably sometimes I sit in my car because it’s too cold outside, but nether the less, the views are divine (I thank God for it daily). Even though my day was going well, my energy levels declined after 3 hours (32-33km). Sometimes I think my mindset believes 3 hours is my optimal distance... over recent years, I’ve reinforced this idea (if only I could run a marathon in 3 hours). Or maybe I should run Garminless more often in an attempt to break the perception. Whatever the reason, my pace marginally dropped and my legs grew heavy. The terrain remained flat and Brad continued to support me along the side of the road and encourage me to eat and drink.
By 35km (3hrs 15min), I was feeling sick and cramping (nasty Gremlins were attacking my uterus). I needed a toilet but I was reluctant to stop, so I pushed on. When I started refusing food and drink (because my guts were churning) I knew I had to temporarily surrender. At 39km, I ran into a local service station and asked to use their facilities. She said I’d have to find a public toilet on the bay trail. I ran back to the traffic lights (adding time and distance) and travelled a short way along the trail until I found toilets. According to Garmin Connect, I lost about 5min in the process (again, a little frustrating but I had no choice). The next time I saw Brad, I asked for more Gastro-Stop! After losing more time, I reached the marathon point in 4hrs 5min. My left hip (and ITB) was making some noise but I could handle it. I did a body check from head to toe, relaxed my shoulders, took a deep belly breath, shook out my hands and tried to fall forwards from the ankles. I pressed on.
I made it to Blairgowrie (one of my favourites spots along the coast) in 4hrs 20min (45km mark). I was tired but OK. I was committed to running but guessed I’d walk the hill from The Continental Hotel in Sorrento, to the corner of Ocean Beach Rd. Around 4hrs 50min (just over 51km) I arrived at the hotel and turn left onto the small hill. I was fatigued and my legs were sore but nothing major or significant enough to warrant walking. I had less than 5km to go… why give up and walk now? I embraced the ‘Cliff Young’ shuffle and weaved uphill. I never walked. I caught a glimpse of my crew and smiled with what little energy remained. The last stretch of road revealed rolling hills and millionaire homes to distract my mind and body. I turned my iPod back on for the last section, and switched off the pain and noise around me. My goal was to survive to the end. I was lacking energy, I had sore legs, blisters on my feet, I was hungry and I was over it! I wanted to stop now. After 5hrs 12min, my watched beeped 55km but I suspected I had slightly further to go (after doubling back to find the loo). Finally, I saw Kevin (RD), my family, Chris and a few other runners… I willed my feet to take those last few steps until I officially clocked off at 5hrs 32min (56km). I was done.
Results:
47th Annual Frankston to Portsea 55km Road Run (Sunday 7th April 2019)
1. Chris O’Brien 4:23:09
2. Amelia “Griffo” Griffith [F] 5:01:57
3. Jonathan Ennis-King 5:02:42
4. Kate Atkinson [F] 5:32:28
5. Frank Palermo 5:43:29
6. Adam Needham 5:54:04
7. Paul Spencer 5:55:32
8. Gabor Jakus 5:57:57
9. Anne Ziogos [F] 5:59:52
10. Darren Colvin 6:01:06
11. Peter Gray 13:25:55
2. Amelia “Griffo” Griffith [F] 5:01:57
3. Jonathan Ennis-King 5:02:42
4. Kate Atkinson [F] 5:32:28
5. Frank Palermo 5:43:29
6. Adam Needham 5:54:04
7. Paul Spencer 5:55:32
8. Gabor Jakus 5:57:57
9. Anne Ziogos [F] 5:59:52
10. Darren Colvin 6:01:06
11. Peter Gray 13:25:55
DNF Maureen MacDonald [F] 50km.
Report by Kevin Cassidy
Sadly, Boy George’s Karma Chameleon was all I stumbled upon from some early morning dial twirling of the car radio as I motored down the freeway to Frankston for yet another edition of this long-term event. The low-lying fog among the surrounding paddocks served as a less than subtle reminder of the rapidly approaching winter.
With Paul Spencer and Peter Gray already on the road having made early starts, a gathering of eleven runners assembled in our regular car park meeting place and were soon on their Portsea bound journeys down the Nepean Highway in perfect conditions.
From the outset, Chris O’Brien established a sizeable lead over the happy trio of Amelia “Griffo” Griffith, Gabor Jakus and Frank Palermo. 55km wasn’t adequate for Frank whose intentions were to run back to Frankston for a 110km round trip just as he’d done the previous two years. Rapidly establishing herself as one of the nation’s best, the incomparable Griffo was backing up from her jaw-dropping performance at the recent W.E.S.T 200 mile trail race in WA. Jonathan Ennis-King was another hard nut. Barely two weeks since smashing the grueling Northburn 100 mile trail race in the land of the long white cloud [and lots of sheep and kiwis!!], here he was seeking additional punishment. Kate Atkinson and Adam Needham settled into a rhythmic procession behind Jonathan while the rear was being brought up by Anne Ziogos, Darren Colvin and Maureen MacDonald. As the bulk of the field advanced beyond 20km, I pulled into the local Caltex for the all-important purchase of the traditional chocolate. I had lofty ideas of presenting “Bertie Beatles” to all the finishers but ultimately my scrooge like spirit came to the fore in the form of $1:20 “Golden Roughs”. Only finding nine on the shelf, I had to snaffle a few supplementary “Mint Patties”! Both were childhood favourites but somewhat mournfully, I have to report that they’ve become increasingly anorexic over the years. They’re barely half the size of what I remember as a kid. Chris continued to build upon his colossal lead through the second half when who should I find on the roadside in Dromana cheering on the runners? None other than Joanna Maidment and her fluffy black dog. One was walking out front with his nose in the air while the other was at the rear with a plastic bag picking up the poo!! Decide yourselves who the intelligent life form is but the hilarity was not lost upon me. Everything was running smoothly so a desperately needed infusion of Diet Coke from the Shell service station was paramount in my mind. Now if I may digress somewhat, there was a time in my younger years when the basic purchase of a soft drink required nothing more than handing over some cash and receiving some change in a transaction that I would imagine averaged six to nine seconds. In 2019, such an action is far more complex. “Just This Drink, Thanks Mate” was the catalyst that sent the lively young kid behind the counter into a frenzy of computer screen tapping. By my estimates, he belted the screen no fewer than 95 times before I could escape.
Modern technology does NOT make our lives easier, its only purpose is to complicate and frustrate our existence upon earth! Continuing down the highway beyond 35km, negotiating the crowds at the Rosebud markets kept everyone on their toes. Chris had long since gone through, Gabor was slowing, Kate was moving though the field and Jonathan and Griffo had linked up. These two were in good spirits and really powering along. Tracking down Chris and the early starting Paul in Sorrento, I dashed into the local supermarket for a couple of bananas. Again, modern technology conspired against me when an ample sized woman with a laden trolley and three kids in tow decided the main doorway was the appropriate place to prop while answering her mobile phone. There she stood like the Rock of Gibraltar disrupting the peace with her annoying and loud nattering. It was impossible for anyone to enter or exit. I paused momentarily thinking she would move aside but her obvious intent was on setting up camp. My only option was to inflict an “accidental” bump to her shoulder followed by a Julie Bishop type glare. I hoped the message registered with her but I seriously doubt it. Arriving at the finish, Chris crossed the line victoriously just as he had done in 2015. Paul crossed moments later for his sixth finish. In they rolled, Griffo a tad over five hours, Jonathan a minute further back, Kate arrived with a satisfied smile just ahead of Frank. Quickly topping up his drink bottles, Frank embarked on his return journey. Adam looked tired but happy while Gabor arrived swearing “Never Again”. Our next arrival was Peter Gray. Having set out at 11pm the previous night, he has conquered this course an astonishing 19 times. Maureen was our only DNF with Anne and Darren coming in around 1pm for what was by far the earliest finish for many years, so much so that I had time to get back to the city for the Melbourne Storm v Canterbury Bulldogs rugby league game, a prospect I thought impossible earlier that morning. Later that night, Facebook informed us that Frank had arrived back in Frankston having spent over 15 hours on the road. We return for the 48th year on April 5th 2020 where the tradition will stretch on.
