Event: Five Peaks Running Festival
Date: 19th April 2026
Type: Trail
Distance: 58km | 26km | 17km | 10km
Where: Adelaide Hills, South Australia
Event Partners/Sponsors: i/oMerino, Tailwind, The Running Company, Groovy Gaiters, Base 2 Summit, Funky Pants
Part 2: Back on the Trails at 5 Peaks
If you missed how I got here, check out Part 1 of my return to racing!
1,365 days. That’s how long it had been since I last had a race bib pinned to my chest.
When I stood at the start line of the 26km event at the 5 Peaks Trail Run in the Adelaide Hills, it wasn’t just about the distance. It was about proving to myself that the spark hadn’t gone out permanently.
The Logistics of a Noon Start
The race didn’t kick off until 12:00 PM. While some might find that strange, it was actually a stroke of genius. By starting the 26km event at lunch, the organisers ensured that the shorter-distance runners would cross paths with the 58km ultra runners at the perfect time. It meant the trails were buzzing with energy, and we weren’t just isolated in the hills.
As for me? My pre-race nutrition was a humble jam sandwich about an hour before the start. It sat perfectly, giving me the fuel I needed without the pre-race nerves playing havoc with my stomach.
Into the Hills: Cleland to Belair via Yurrebilla
Standing in Cleland Conservation Park, I felt a familiar cocktail of nerves and indifference. I didn’t see a single familiar face, but that didn’t matter. My game plan was clear: Do not be a hero. I knew the trap of starting too fast and “dying” in the final 10km. I promised myself I’d stick to the back of the pack, keep the poles handy, and stay on top of my hydration.
The first few kilometres took us past the wildlife park and up around Cleland cottage. It was here that the reality of trail racing hit: we passed an ultra-runner who had taken a wrong turn, visibly frustrated. It was a stark reminder of how easy it is to lose focus.
By the 7km mark, we were treated to a sweeping 2km descent along Mt Barker Road. We ran past the Eagle on the Hill winery and some stunning homes built from rammed earth, a reminder of how unique the Adelaide Hills are. We were weaving through forests and open paddocks, catching glimpses of the city skyline, yet feeling entirely removed from the suburban hustle. It’s a beautiful, confusing balance that makes the Yurrebilla Trail one of South Australia’s best-kept secrets.
The Mental Battle: Brown Hill and Beyond
At the 13km mark, the “real” race began. Brown Hill was a beast. It was a 500m ascent that felt never-ending. I made the mistake of being stubborn and leaving my poles stowed. I quickly realised my error, and as soon as I pulled those poles out, the ascent became manageable. They weren’t just equipment; they were my lifeline.
By the time I reached the top, the views were breathtaking, but so was the heat. I was so grateful for my wide-brimmed hat, sunglasses, and the layers of sunscreen I’d applied. Looking around at other runners, many of whom were already visibly sunburnt, I was glad I’d prioritised being “sun-smart” over “race-ready.”
At McElligotts Quarry (around 16.5km), I treated myself to a “world-famous” brownie and a handful of salty chips. That sweet-and-salty combination was exactly what my soul (and my stomach) needed.
The Home Stretch: The Disco Tunnel
The final kilometres were a grind. To keep moving, I turned to a “random” run-walk method. I ran until I hit a wall, then walked just long enough to let my legs recover, then repeated. It wasn’t pretty, but it was effective.
I’ll be honest: the last few kilometres required some extra help. I put my music on to drown out the fatigue. At one point, I stopped to check on a runner who was physically struggling; he declined help, but it was a sobering reminder of how vital fueling is.
Then, at the 24km mark, I saw it: the infamous “Disco Tunnel.”
I can’t describe how surreal it was to run through a tunnel decked out in flashing disco lights. It was an instant dance party in the middle of a trail race. It was chaotic, loud, and utterly delightful—the exact distraction I needed to push through the final stretch.
The Finish Line
I crossed the line with a time of 3:57:27.
There was no medal around my neck—those were reserved for the 58km ultra-finishers—but that didn’t matter in the slightest. Standing there, breathing in the air of the Adelaide Hills, I knew I had succeeded. I had 10km left in the tank, which gave me the confidence boost I needed to confirm that, yes, I am capable of doing this.
The 1,365-day drought is officially over.
Do I have an ultra in me? Maybe. The Surf Coast Century 50k is firmly on the cards for 2027. That’s 500+ days away, which gives me plenty of time to train, learn, and fall in love with the trails all over again.
I’m back, I’m hungry for more, and I’m finally enjoying the run again.
Have you ever returned to a sport or hobby after a long hiatus? How did it feel to finally “start” again? Let me know in the comments!