FRANKSTON TO PORTSEA (VIC) ROAD RACE

At the ungodly hour of lam, only 5 runners turned up at the Frankston Post Office to put their reputations on the line. They were: Mike “King Willy” Wheatley, Kev “Mr.Bean” Cassidy , Peter “Graypower” Gray, “Mad Max” Gibbs and Ross “Spider” Shilston. What a motley lot! All the rest of the regular runners, like all the “normal” ones, were on the sidelines, injured. Two of them followed the race, whimping out on bikes. They were Geoff Hook and Peter Armistead. (You know Pete. He’s the one who insists on singing “Loveliest Night of the Year” when he’s sunk a few).
Well anyway, the race got started with “Big Al.” Witt, Dot Browne and Marg. “Shirley Temple” Cassidy following along, providing 5km delicacies, such as smoked oysters, caviare, red salmon, top shelf red, Tasmanian oysters and water. Peter Gray went through the first 5km in 22 minutes choosing the water, closely followed by 2 elderly gentlemen on bikes and the rest of the bunch running together and going through at 23.03 minutes.
At 10km, Peter Armistead was leading the field by 800 metres, looking impressive on bike. He went through in 43 min. Peter Gray was still leading the runners, clocking in at 46 mins.. Hookie was hanging back on bike, saving himself.
At 15km, “King Willy” Wheatley had caught “Graypower”, with Kev looking good in 3rd spot. “Spider” Shilston, being a desperate from way back, was lagging 50metres behind, with a cute blond on his tail. “I think I’ll wait for her”, states Ross. “Any excuse for slowing up! Get GOING, you slack bastard!” encourages Witty from the sidelines. Max was last.
20km saw Mike Wheatley being VERY unsociable and clearing out at Ihr.3lmin., leaving the others for dead. “Graypower” still in 2nd, “Mr.Bean” 3rd and “Mad Max” 4th. Pete Armistead on bike with a sore bum , came in next. “Jeez you’re goin’ bad when you get beaten by the runners Pete!” says Witty. “Yeah, but I’m beating Roscoe.That’s the main thing”, replies Pete. Meanwhile, looking totally stuffed, shuffled in Roscoe. “I’m pulling out”, he states flatly. “The blond chick turned off’. “What a pathetic effort! “states Pete. “Dunny Seat Award for you mate”, adds Big Al. “It’s becoming a habit, this DNFing business you know. That’s the second time in 20 years!”. Pete consoled him by stating “Do you realize Ross that that’s the earliest anyone’s EVER quit in this race in the whole history of the event? – Like that’s 20 years!”
At 25km, Mike Wheatley was still sprinting and being more unsociable. Pete rode in next and immediately fell off his bike, lying prone in the grass. “Give’im mouth to mouth Marg”, says Big Al.
“That’ll make him sit up” . It did. At lhr. 56min Kev and Peter Gray came in together, both looking serious, nobody cracking jokes. Hookie zoomed in on bike next, grabbing a drink and hurling it at the side of Pete’s head, which was now vertical. “Did it go right through?” says Hookie.
30km saw Mike Wheatley sprinting in at 2hrs.09min with the rest of the field not in sight. Kev staggered in eventually, 8 minutes later, not looking all that great, with Max on his heels (looking smug) and Peter Gray just 4 minutes behind them.
At 35km, Mike Wheatley was in an event of his own, Kev was looking worried with Max only
S0metres behind and gaining on him. “Graypower” was still bringing up the rear and tiring, 11 minutes away.
At 40km, Mike was smelling home and sprinting faster, “Big Max” had passed Kev, while Pete was having the odd walk and getting into the jelly beans and Coke.
When the intrepid support crew pulled up at the 50km mark, Mike had gone through hours ago and Mad Max was suffering with cramps and getting a rub from kind-hearted Pete, Ross reckoned that he was comm’ good (in Dot’s car) getting into her lunch, Kev had disappeared and The Hook on bike was nursing “Graypower” along, feeding him water, Coke and jelly beans intravenously.
After half an hour of waiting at the 50km hill in Sorrento, Kev’s ever faithful wife, “Shirley Temple” went looking for him. She found him under a tree way down the road, unable to move. She bundled him into the car and drove him to the end, when he flaked on the grass, looking crook. and basically turning blue. “I bequeath my body to the cat” squeaked Mr.Bean, on his deathbed. He didn’t die. He just reckoned he pulled out to save himself for the mini-golf on the way home.
There was a 40% drop-out rate in this event, two out of five. As Pete says, “What a pathetic effort! “. However the unsociable Mike “King Willy” Wheatley came close to breaking the course record with a solo run of 3hrs.56.19, with Max Gibbs coming in 2nd in 4:31:47 and Peter Gray finishing in 5:11:44. Then it was into Sorrento for bulk fish and chips for lunch and a stretch out on the grass for everybody.