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I ran the SEQ Trail Series race at Ewen Maddock dam last weekend and I can’t stop thinking about how joyous an experience it was, and how much pleasure I get from running trails.

Apart from the 10k event at Beerwah at Daybreak in January, I haven’t run a trail race since The Guzzler Big Sipper last July, and I’ve really missed it. Of course, I’ve spent plenty of time out on the trails since then, but not at an organised event.

Every time I think about Sunday’s run, I can’t help but smile. Which has made me wonder why events like that bring me such visceral joy. It’s more than just skin-deep, more lasting than ephemeral. It goes to my very core, to my soul.

Why is it so? The reasons are many and as often as not, like many things in running, they’re counter-intuitive!

But before we ponder them together, let me set the scene. Ewen Maddock dam, like all the courses in the SEQ Trail Series, takes runners through drop-dead gorgeous terrain. It’s in the Sunshine Coast hinterland and, unlike many of the races in the series it’s relatively flat - only around 160m of elevation.

I had entered the long-course event which, according to my Garmin, clocked in at 14.8k. There was also a short-course version that’s just over 8k.

In the lead-up, I’d been unsure whether I’d be able to run at all, courtesy of a slight quad strain I’d felt playing football on Friday night (ironic after my piece last week about how great the running is going).

But on waking obscenely early on Sunday morning it felt okay, so I decided to roll the dice. Worst case scenario would be a limp back to the finish line from wherever I got to before the leg went bad.

This sort of build-up to a race, the nervous anticipation that precedes it, is all part of the experience. There’s the gear check the night before - do I have enough gels, what about water? Have I forgotten anything mission-critical.

Then there’s the ridiculously early alarm and the nervous car journey to the race precinct - about 90 minutes for us on Sunday - usually accompanied by other runners in your crew.

On arrival there’s the mandatory portaloo stop (or more than one), then the pre-race milling about with mates who are also running.

This camaraderie is one of the key sources of joy in trail running for me. On Sunday I was running as part of the Fat Cannon Run Club Trail Division contingent. We are a exclusive group, all four of us hit the trails on Sunday.

But I also caught up with my Trailiens mates who were running. Beforehand, while some of us were stretching, we swapped notes about expectations, how training had been going, recollections of what the course is like and speculation about how muddy it might be out there, after a fair bit of rain in the lead-up, including overnight.

I love this about trail runners. It feels a much more communal, shared experience than a big road race. More casual. At the end of the day, apart from those contesting right at the front of the field, we’re all just out there to have some fun.

And so it was on Sunday. When we got going, I started in the back third of the field. I’m a mid-pack runner at best, and because I was concerned about my quad, I had decided to be pretty conservative to begin with.

This was probably wise. Passing is difficult at the start of the course and it only took about 500m before I stretched out to leap over a ditch on the trail and felt my left quad complain. But it settled soon enough and so did I, into a nice, easy rhythm.

Soon enough the field stretched out and there was fresh air between me and the runners ahead and behind me. I often wear headphones (podcasts and audio books if you’re interested) when I run, but I rarely do during races. So all I could hear was the metronomic sound of my breathing, the slap, slap, slap of my feet on the trail and the sounds of nature around me.

As the name of the event suggests, the course runs around a lake. It’s beautiful. And needless to say, this immersion in nature is one of the most joyous elements of trail running.

It felt like a “proper” trail run on the weekend too. Because it had been wet in the lead-up, it was muddy. Not so muddy that it became a sludge-fest, but muddy enough to feel authentic, to render even the fussiest runners unable to finish the course without being spattered.

This is another source of joy. Who doesn’t love to jump in puddles, especially mud puddles? It’s a great way to reconnect with your inner child. (Unless an old towel and a change of clothes for the car ride home were on the list of things you forgot to pack - then it’s a different story.)

This race does have the advantage of a sandy public swimming area right beside the start/finish line though, so I was able to rinse most of the mud off clothes and shoes by wading out until I was waste deep. Problem solved!

Because it runs alongside the lake, Ewen Maddock is a relatively flat race. At face value, this seems more desirable than a course with lots of hills. But it presents its own challenges, because the entire 14.8k is runnable.

Hills are a physical challenge, but mentally it’s a comfort to know you’ll get a “rest” when you reach a hill you have to trudge up. There are no such mental breaks on a fully runnable course. And that taxes both the mind and the body.

But this is another source of joy. Trail running is hard. That’s why we do it, well it’s why I do it anyway. To push myself, to see what I can achieve.

And so it was on Sunday. Once I hit halfway and I was feeling good, I set myself two goals: to run the entire course; and not to let anyone I had passed during the race go back past me. I managed both, which was very satisfying.

After the race, there was a quick debrief then, as tradition dictates, the Fat Cannon Run Club Trail Division headed for breakfast and a beer at the closest independent brewery - in this case Moffat Beach Brewing Co Beachside where we indulged in the joy of beer. (I admit 10am is early for a beer even for a beer lover such as myself, but having been up at 3am and run 14.8k through the mud I figured I’d earned it.)

Naturally, it wasn’t long before conversation turned to prep for our next event - the Dead Cow Gully backyard ultra in May. It’s the first backyard ultra for us, so there’s much planning to do! More joy.

Yes, running can be hard. It can be hot, cold, wet, miserable. You can get injured, sore and demoralised. It can give you the shits and leave you spewing, literally and metaphorically.

But there are times, like for me on Sunday, when it just gives in spades. Which, I guess, is why we keep coming back.

Postscript: Fridays for me mean a speed session with my fellow Trailiens and this morning’s very humid hit-out reminded me of two truisms. I spent a good 45 minutes debating whether to make the effort this morning. I had a headache, it had been raining, I had a busy morning ahead. But in the end I went. And it proved once again that no matter how unenthusiastic I am before heading out, I NEVER regret having gone for a run once it’s done. And secondly, running’s great on your own, but better with friends. There’s no way I’d have made the effort this morning if I hadn’t known there’d be a dozen others ready to punish themselves alongside me.

Upcoming Events

There are way too many events for me to list everything that’s happening around the country, but here is a selection of upcoming races (with a bias towards South East Queensland).

The Running Calendar website is a great source if you want a comprehensive understanding of what’s available around the country.