Originally written November 2025
Point to Pinnacle
Half marathon — 21 km
Elevation gain — approximately 1,200 metres
I had been training for Point to Pinnacle for three months.
I’d even signed up for coaching because this race was supposed to be my comeback to running.
Of course, somewhere along the way the Perth Marathon happened too — because I thought I could do it.
And, surprisingly, it went really well. 
Then, two weeks before P2P, everything changed.
I ended up in the emergency department with a diverticulitis flare-up and spent four days in hospital. For three days I was basically living on fluids, and even when I was allowed solid food again, my stomach wasn’t terribly interested.
Then third term started, which meant residential school.
So in the two weeks leading up to the race, my carefully planned training consisted mostly of long walks and the occasional hike.
Naturally, I still went to Hobart.
My flights and accommodation were already booked, there was no refund coming my way, and I wasn’t sure how many opportunities I’d have to race the following year because of work placement.
I told Graeme, Josh — my coach — and my friends that I was going to walk it.
There was just one small problem.
I forgot to change my registration from the run category, which had a 3-hour-45-minute cut-off, to the walk category, which had a much longer cut-off.
My logic was that I could walk the steep sections and run the flats and downhills.
Excellent plan.
Except my abdomen had apparently not been included in the consultation.
Every time I tried to run, I felt a sharp punch in the gut.
So eventually I stopped negotiating with my body and walked.
All of it.
By the time I reached the final checkpoint, about 1.5 kilometres from the finish, a volunteer told me I had only 12 minutes left.
There was absolutely no way I was going to cover that distance in time without running.
And running was no longer an option.
Still, when they asked whether I wanted to continue, I said:
“I’ll give it a go.”
Of course I did.
I didn’t make the official cut-off.
But I did make it to the summit.
And when I finally arrived, the volunteers cheered as though I had won the whole thing.
I still received my medal, and a photographer even took my finish photo.
So…
Did I fail?
Yes — but probably not in the way you’d expect.
I didn’t fail because I missed the cut-off.
I failed to make the sensible decision beforehand.
I should have changed to the walk category.
That would have matched what my body was actually capable of doing that day instead of what I had originally planned months earlier.
Do I regret going?
No.
I genuinely enjoyed the event.
It was beautifully organised, the scenery was magnificent, and I got to share the experience with family and friends.
But if there was one lesson hiding somewhere in those 1,200 metres of climbing, it was this:
Sometimes changing the goal isn’t giving up.
Sometimes it’s simply choosing the right race for the body that turned up that morning.
And next time?
I might even remember to change the registration.
Stories Along the Way 