Sunday 17 November 2024, marked the day my daughter Sarah, and I tackled the legendary Point to Pinnacle in Hobart, Tasmania. This year happened to be the 30th anniversary of the P2P, a gruelling event that begins at Wrest Point Casino and finishes on top of kunanyi – Mount Wellington, the beautiful mountain that overlooks Hobart.
The P2P website describes the event as a run and recreational walk. But let me assure you – this is no leisurely stroll: it’s an endurance challenge. Delve further into the website and you discover that the race is touted as the world’s toughest half marathon – but I guess that means for runners.
Sarah, a seasoned runner with half marathons and even a couple of full marathons under her belt, naturally chose to run it. I, on the other hand, opted for a more (not so) leisurely approach: walking. (Because why run when you can shuffle your way to glory, right?)
The Early Bird Walkers
The walkers started at 7 am., which, if you ask me, felt like a brutally early hour to attempt anything labelled “world’s toughest.” With my friend Maryanne for support, we squeezed into the bustling crowd and set off at the sound of the starter’s gun. It was a bit chaotic at first—think sardines in sneakers—but my trusty cane worked its magic, clearing a path like Moses parting the Red Sea.
A couple of hours into the walk, Maryanne and I got separated when she stopped for a toilet break. She told me to continue. So, I did. As I continued, the crowd started thinning out and I was alone with my thoughts and wondering if I’d made a terrible life choice.
The Runners Fly By
At 8 am., the runners took off. And at 8:22 am., just as I was admiring the scenery, and cursing the incline, the first runners flew past me. Despite their big strong manly legs pushing forward, they were huffing and puffing hard, as they powered up the mountain road.
After another 10 minutes or so, the first women runners came powering through. They were met with hearty cheers from the spectators on both sides of the road.
Some participants opted for the “Point to Pub,” which ended at the Ferntree Tavern—a perfectly reasonable 10 km mark – almost halfway. When I finally reached that point, I thought, Hallelujah, I’m done! But then I heard Sarah’s voice behind me.
‘Hey Ma, how’s it going?’, as she ran past looking as fresh as a daisy. Before long, she turned the corner, started charging up the mountain road and was out of sight.
That was enough to get me moving because I had to show her I could do it.
The Uphill Battle
From there, it was all uphill -literally. By the 15 km mark, my feet were screaming for mercy. A quick massage would’ve been bliss, but I knew if I stopped, I might never start again. Vehicles working for the P2P zipped past in both directions -buses heading down the mountain to ferry finishers back to the casino. Some strange ones were running back down. Insanity? Maybe. More likely, they were just super fit. Ambulances made their rounds, a comforting reminder that if I keeled over, help was closeby.
Police officers on bikes provided much-needed morale boosts. One officer cheered, ‘You’re doing well—keep going!’ Bless him. His words might have been routine encouragement, but to me, they were gospel.
By the 17 km mark, Sarah had already finished and was on a bus heading back down. She sent me a message saying someone had flagged her bus and hopped on. She suggested I could do the same. ‘My arse’, I thought. If I’m going to torture myself, I’m going to do it properly!
The Finish Line
At 11:40 am, I crossed the finish line. Was I first? Not even close. Was I last? Nope! But for me, this wasn’t about competition—it was about conquering the mountain (and my inner doubts).
The bus ride back down to the casino felt surreal, the driver pumping the brakes all the way. I felt a wave of emotion as Sarah came over to meet me when I got off the bus. That’s when the reality of what I’d accomplished truly sank in. Seeing the distance, I’d walked from the comfort of the bus was humbling. It was tough—beyond tough—but it was also exhilarating.
Final Thoughts
The Point to Pinnacle isn’t just a race; it’s a rite of passage. It’s about grit, determination, and a healthy dose of humour when your legs start questioning your life choices.
Would I do it again? Ask me when my feet have stopped throbbing. But for now, I’ll savour the glory of ticking it off my bucket list and bask in the knowledge that I didn’t let a mountain beat me.
Tough? That’s an understatement. But worth it? Absolutely.
