Around eighteen months ago Mum was diagnosed with terminal cancer; she just got on with it, doing what she could for as long as she could, going passed her “use by” date of April with strength, beauty and dignity. The past couple of months she developed a few problems and the pain from the tumours in the bones of her spine were restricting her movement but she was determined to stay independent and at home. I bought her some zebra striped purple fluffy dice for her zimmer, she cut a dash through to the kitchen with flare.
After a fall on Tuesday 6th her pain was immense, by Friday afternoon I think the medication was nearing the correct dose to take the edge off. I smiled at her comment after I helped her get comfy. “I think I’m winning!”
She passed away peaceful at home two days later. She never gave up; it was just time to rest.
Yes Mum you did win and when I feel I’m having a tough time you’ll be with me I’ll smile and say “I think I’m winning”
Last week Mel suggested going for run on the WHW, but come Thursday she still had a bit of lurgy so was sensible and called off, a shame since it was her idea in the first place. The plan was Rannoch Moor, Pauline, Morna and I would still go although the forecast predicted lots of weather and after a late pitch inspection via the Kingshouse webcam on Saturday, it looked wet and the only snow was a wee sprinkling on the top of the hills. So by 10.30am Sunday we were sitting in the car, parked beside Blackrock Cottage doing contortions, we weren’t getting out to put our rain jackets and rucksacks on while the hailstones bounced off the car.
I was wearing a couple of layers plus the rain jacket on my top half, fingerless gloves with fleece gloves over the top, a peaked Buff topped with a woolly hat but just one pair of tights, so I thought I’d wear the waterproof breeks I’d recently modified, they were an old pair of Pete’s I’d chopped off just below the knee so they take up very little room in the bottom of my backpack and they are easy slipped on with no faffing with my shoes. A brilliant idea but not mine, Pauline’s been whacking bits of her breeks for ages,
(Devil's Staircase, WHW race 2009)
her Michael Jacksons are legendary and so is the ribbing she gets when wearing them. After the abuse I’ve given her about her breeks over the years I wasn’t going to be let off lightly. I denied having Michael Jacksons, mine are Stanley Matthews.
A quick photie then we headed up the hill with the wind blowing us up, over the top and past Peter Flemings monument, the Moor was like a patchwork quilt with all the different colours of autumn and winter as dark clouds came and went, distant hills, and the ones nearby disappeared in the rain and hail then minutes later their snow dusted tops sparkled brightly in the sunshine. Morna and Pauline pulled away, even more so when I stopped to take photos, but I’m quite happy tootling along at my own pace, I don’t feel I have to keep up. They were occasionally in sight and gave a wave from time to time, the plan was to turn back after 1½ hours I wouldn’t go as far as they did but that was ok, I’m quite happy to sacrifice distance to squelch about looking for a good camera angle, it doesn’t matter how many times I’ve ran along Rannoch Moor, whatever the season, no two days are ever the same and if I can catch a glimpse on camera it’s worth the half mile or so less running than the rest of the group.
I got to Forest Lodge at around 1½ hours, there was no sign of Pauline and Morna, I think they got round to the bridge near the Inveroran Hotel. I wasn’t fussed for traipsing up the tarmac until I met them on the way back so I went up the back of the car park to get a bit of height for a photo of Loch Tulla. Pauline and Morna appeared, I pointed where I was heading and stomped up the hill, Pauline followed me, Morna stayed near the car park reading the bumf on the info board. What a reward for the bit wee effort! One of the best rainbows I’ve ever seen.
I gave Pauline the car key as they would get back before me and we headed back, I stuck in wee walks on the steepest bits on the way back, (it was the WHW after all no harm practicing WHW pace) I don’t think I took as many photos in the way back (more photos) but I still kept looking around and behind me so as I didn’t miss a view. At the big boulder just before the final climb back to the top I always stop for a last look and a cheerio ‘til next time. Then I headed round and down, straight into the wind and rain/hail, here was where the wind was strongest, throughout the day it occasionally took me slightly off my chosen line, but I was brought to a standstill running DOWN hill! Pauline and Morna had just gotten themselves changed and comfy in the car, opening their flasks as I got back. I flung the car door open disturbing their cosy ensconce. “Well, that puts colour in your cheeks!”
I think the saying is more commonly known as - There is no such thing as bad weather just bad clothing. Whether I was wearing bad clothing or not is merely a matter of opinion, I’ve never been much of a fashionista and I wasn’t cold and besides there definitlynothing bad about today... Pauline wasn’t wearing her Michael Jacksons; she tends to save them for races. *Sings Michael Jackson* Oooww! They’re Bad!
I wasn’t surprised that there was a big entry for this race after the brilliant job that Mike and Bill, with all their helpers, did at Glenmore 24. But because there was a bigger field of runners than originally expected the start was altered and the route was a wee bit shorter, whether it was 33 or 31-ish miles I was looking forward to running on new ground, I didn’t pay much attention to the route map, it was going to be well marked and I wanted a surprise, I knew there were a few hills as well as the route 7 cycle path. For ages when I’ve been driving along the A85 and looking over to the viaduct, I’d often thought it would be a lovely place for a run.
On Friday I gathered my gear together and loaded my backpack, there were checkpoints to leave drop bags but I decided not to bother with them and just carry all my juice and munchies, I wasn’t planning to race it, I didn’t feel fit enough or prepared for a race, I was just going for a nice steady run. Sue had said the same so the plan was for us to run together with Pauline and Robin. On Friday evening Sue sent a text “Kilts or is that not taking it seriously enough?” Brilliant idea and I replied “Yeah lets do kilts”
Ken and Sue had picked up Pauline and then me just before 6.00am and in just over an hour we were in Strathyre. Brrrrrr! I wondered if I was wearing enough layers, I was hoping it would warm as the sun rose. I smiled when Lucy, wearing just a single long sleeved top and skimpy knickers, asked wouldn’t we be too warm? Nah, some of us aren’t built with the ability to run fast enough to generate heat! Wearing a kilt wasn’t such a frivolous idea either, with it being so cold it kept the glutes warm and when I stopped for a pee there was no big expanse of bare bahooky hanging out in the freezing air!
It wasn’t long until we were across the road and up the wee hill to the start; there were loads of weel-kent faces and a fair few new ones doing their first ultra. There was a first in it for me too, I had gone all geeky-fied and was wearing a Garmin for the first time ever in a race. With it being a route I didn’t know I thought it would be nice to have a rough judge of distance, I remember running The Speyside Way 50k in 1997 (my 2nd ultra) and asking how much further to go and was devastated when I was told 10 miles when I was hoping it was a lot less. This was now my 41st ultra, still a mere handful compared to Ray McCurdy’s 97th.
After a few words from Bill we were off, a nice wooded track that soon opened out onto a stunning view, I stopped to take some photies then I look up the track, Pauline, Sue and Robin had pulled away a fair bit and I had to put in a bit of effort to try and catch them up… then I changed my mind, I’ll let them go, I didn’t want a thirty odd mile fartlek! I wanted to stop to take a photo when I liked without the pressure of trying to keep up and what a stunning day it was, low lying mist, rich autumn colours, the bracken was a deep burnished gold, the rising sun made spiders webs sparkle with diamonds, I wasn’t wasting this being pressured by time or pace.
It was still chilly in the shade but in the sun it was lovely I never took off my gloves, buffs or pushed my sleeves up I just enjoyed the warmth. On the viaduct I looked over to the road, and sent a wave and a smile, next time I’m driving along there I’ll catch it.
After crossing the road and heading towards the loop in the forest, the lead guys were belting down the road towards me!!!! What a speed, I doubt I could do that on a bike!! They’ll be finished by the time I’m halfway!
I loved the path in the forest, I was very much on my own, Ray McCurdy was well ahead, I was with him for a bit earlier, I knew there was a couple of girls running together behind me but I couldn’t see a soul. I was walking up a hill and decided to tell my camera how lovely it was.
Near the end of the forest I did see Mike R and his friend who were both running in monkey feet (you know what I mean, those minimal shoes with toes). There was a directional arrow that gave a few folk a bit of a dither, I heard later that Pauline, Sue and Robin got their map out, but for me it was merely a minor detail that the writing was up side down, the important thing was what way the arrow went and without a pause I followed it. I loved the arrow that pointed the way with the words “The Pub” I smiled and thought this must be around halfway then, I always get a wee boost when I realise I’ve got less to do than what I’ve just done.
I came down the hill gently and was back on the cycle path. Ken was on his bike and said that the rest of the gang weren’t that far in front, and on the long straight I could see them in the distance. He asked how I’d got on in the forest as a few had gone wrong; that puzzled me a bit, I’m not the brightest of bairns and I didn’t go wrong, but I think not having the brains to query a marker that wasn’t quite right worked in my favour .
I could feel my hamstrings tight, probably the lack of training and the cold, on the flat old railway line the soreness was reminiscent of that you have with the unchanging stride of 24 hour road race. I did have a wee giggle though, Ken had stopped at the viewpoint of Loch Earn and after taking my photo he was back on the bike, we were both looking down the loch then I heard him “Whoa!” I looked to see him have a wobble as he nearly fell into the ditch; I suppose that what happens when you don’t watch were you’re going!
After the last checkpoint near Kingshouse I started to look at the Garmin regularly, and roughly worked out the distance still to do, I never think about how far I’ve gone but on how far still to go which always gets smaller so in my mind easier, I envisaged nice easy runs round my local routine routes, at 9 miles to go it was my Valleyfield Lagoons route, at 5 miles, that’s just a dander down the Shore Road to Torryburn and home. But my miles weren’t coming down as quick as I’d like and didn’t feel as easy as I pretended but I just plodded them out. At times I could see the gang ahead, at others I tilted my head down and hid the hill with my peaked buff and shuffled up. Another distraction was a very muddy and very friendly Spaniel, despite the shouts from the owner it decided I wanted to play, I just tried to ignore him but it was a bit hard, eventually he left me alone after leaving me a present of mud and dog snot on ma kilt!
I was sure I was getting near the finish but I wasn’t depending on the information provided by the doofer on my wrist being correct and always over estimated the distance still to go, there was a few people about and I spotted a marshal ahead and thought it must be just around a mile or so left to go, the marshal said “About 400 yards and over the bridge.” I answered “Is that all?” Sure enough a wee bounce across the bridge and there I was. Wow, what a great run, a bit of a trudge for the last few miles but that’s what makes you enjoy it all the more when you stop.
After a quick change standing beside the car (another bonus wearing a kilt, you can change your knickers without breaking indecency laws) it was over to the pub for our well deserved soup and beer, and a catch up with other folk.
What a brilliant day, thanks to Mike and Bill and their helpers for putting on another cracking event. I’ll be back next year.
I’m on holiday from work this week and decided to have a WHW day, I felt a wee bit selfish not saying to anyone I was going but I wanted it all to myself beside most folk wouldn’t manage midweek or so I told myself trying to salve my conscience. I dithered on what bit to do, between Conic hill and Rowardennan are stunning in autumn colours but I that’s where I went around this time last year. I remembered I still had a voucher for a free cuppa and a big doad of cake to use at The Real Food Café that would go out of date at the end of the month so I decided I’d start and finish my run at Tyndrum.
I’ve not done much since the Glenmore 24, sliding easily from recovery to taper for the Loch Ness Marathon and my longest run since Loch Ness has just been 9 miles so I wasn’t looking for loads of miles and it is Glen Ogle 33 next week, I’ll save myself for that. Just a nice easy jaunt down the Way to the deer fence above Crianlarich and back would do nicely.
After a bit of faffing I got to Tyndrum and started running at around 11.30, one reason I love running on my own is being able to please myself and not feel as if I’m holding anyone back, going as slow as I like and to deviate from the path to take photos or just to stop and enjoy the peace and the scenery.
It was very quiet, no wind whistling through the trees and I only met a couple of walkers all day. I sat at the picnic table just above the deer fence for a bit, the sun was shining and I had the company of a Robin hopping about the grass. I didn’t want to go back yet so went a wee bit passed the deer fence just to see the view round the bend, but not as far as coo poo junction.
I only ate a few jelly beans, I was carrying a Rice Krispie Square and an Elevenses cake thing but I was saving myself for The Real Food Café, I’d already decided that I would have a nice bowl of soup before my big slice of cake.
On the way back I still took my time and even waded into the water for some photos my feet were wet anyway and I wanted to see a different angle.
After going under the road just passed Auchtertyre Farm it started to rain, it wasn’t too heavy so I didn’t bother getting my jacket out, I wasn’t far from Tyndrum… it then got heavy so I just got wet. Back at the car I changed my shoes and top, rubbed my hair dry with my t-shirt so I was presentable to enter civilisation. I went over to the Café, I noticed the car park was empty, it looked dark, I had to check the notice on the door although I already knew what it said. CLOSED. Aaaahhhh! I could’ve gone over to the Green Welly but I’d taken the huff, my bottom lip stuck so far out it was in danger of a stain injury! It was stotting rain now so I just went straight home and opened a tin of soup, it wasn’t quite the treat I’d envisaged to round off a smashing day but after all that fresh air and a handful of jelly beans it was still tasty!
I did have a bottle of Brains Dark I’d brought back from Wales last month so that was my treat while sorting though my photos Yes it was good day.
Last summer Pete asked me if I’d be willing to be the subject for a film he thought he’d submit to Diversity Films, a Starting Blocks project and his idea was eventually short listed and selected, so with professional mentoring and funding “Running Wild” was in production.I wasn’t always a willing participant, “Get that camera out o’ ma face!” It also cost us the PS3 Guitar Hero Drum kit! Erin still hates her wee clip… her choice of hair colour has something to do with it!Most of the filming was around this time last year. Pete spent a long time on it, whittling around twenty hours of footage down to sixteen minutes. This is his baby and I’m proud of what he’s done although I do cringe a bit when I see my ugly mug on a large screen. It has been screened at film festivals from Glasgow to Russia! It was voted favourite at Edinburgh Mountain Film Festival last week. So get comfy for the next 16 minutes,grab a cuppa or a glass of wine and enjoy.
This year was going to be even more special; there were ten of us that would be completing all ten of Baxters Loch Ness Marathon.
Pauline and I arrived early Saturday afternoon at Amy and Ewan's our B&B for nearly all our marathons. Pauline wasn’t running this year; she’s still recovering from the 24 hour race at the Commonwealth Championships the previous week. To say I felt as if I was still recovering from just doing her support sounds a bit feeble but standing for 24 hours did take a wee toll, my calves and achilles tendons felt tight, and I was awfy tired. My batteries were flat from my own 24 hour race at the Glenmore 24 on the 3rd September and were on trickle charge. I’d only done a handful of 5 mile runs since Glenmore, rest and recovery far more important than trying knocking out some last minute marathon training. But not being marathon fit or marathon trained wasn’t going to stop me having a good time and by that I don’t mean the numbers on my watch!
We had to be at registration for 4.00pm Saturday for a photo and we were presented with a t-shirt, crystal memento and a cup cake. It was fun watching Pauline hold my jacket, my bag and my camera trying to get photos without the official photographers elbow in the shot.
Then Pauline and I went for pasta and pints (all good carbs) before an early-ish night. Breakfast was at 6.15am and Amy does a cracking bowl of porridge, I topped it with a banana and honey, which was followed by smoked salmon, scrambled egg and toast. I was stuffed but that was ok, plenty time for it to go down before the start.
On the long bus journey to the start, I had to have a wee smile, a bus in front stopped to let some poor burstin’ soul off for a pee and since the rest of the buses couldn’t pass on the narrow road, a few others took the opportunity to pee, this happened twice, the slow journey to the start took even longer than normal. Time was tight when the buses got to the start, so with no faffing, I took off my jacket, fleece and tracksuit bottoms and put them in my bag and handed it into baggage. It was drizzling but the forecast was for it to brighten so I decided to be brave and just run in a short sleeved top, vest, three-quarter length tights and my wee kilt, no Buff, hat, gloves or sleeves. Wrong choice, it was announced that the race would be delayed for ten minutes so everyone had the chance to get to the start on time, I had no problem with that just that I had to stand and chitter for even longer, I hadn’t bothered taking a bin bag or throw away clothes. (I’ll remember that for next year)
The Pipe Band came through the field of runners; it always brings a lump to my throat. Then we were off, I knew I was running a faster pace than I planned but I was trying to generate a bit of heat, the rain was no longer a drizzle but stotting down. Steven, another Carnegie Harrier, running his first marathon, came along side me and he told me all of the miles so far were sub 9 pace, I don’t look at my watch, I laughed and said “I don’t do sub 9, actually I don’t think I’ve done sub 10’s this year!” Not to worry I’ll hang with it for as long as I felt comfortable or at least until I warm up. We stayed together until around nine miles; Steven pushed on to finish in 4 hours 6 minutes, absolutely brilliant considering he had no specific marathon training.
I started to tire at around 11 miles and nipped into the bushes for a pee, another lady joined me and said this was her second stop, and asked if it was the weather that was causing it. I was sure it was, I know skin is waterproof but I felt I was absorbing the rain, throughout the race I never felt the need to have more than a mouthful at any of the drink stations. I wished I had at least worn a Buff scarf, even when the rain stopped I never felt warm, but the views of the loch, Urquhart Castle, the field with the static caravans, my childhood holidays, brought back warm memories.
At Dores the support was as great as ever, I high fived all the kids. On the gentle start of the hill I started to feel a bit more comfortable, I kept looking round over my left shoulder until I was at the best viewpoint for looking down the loch. I turned round walking backwards for a few paces and shout to folk around me “Look behind, scenery break!” I think a few thought I was nuts but still looked back briefly, a Wee County runner went by me and she said. “Thanks, I’d forgot about that.” On the steeper climb of the hill, I kept an easy short shuffle, I’ve never been fast at Loch Ness but I’ve never walked either and I wasn’t breaking tradition. I went past Wee County runner; she was walking, and said “Well done digging in.” I replied I was doing micro shuffle, she laughed and said that’s what she calls “The Mince”. Walk, mince or micro shuffle, whatever technique works use it!
Once over the climb, which in my mind is just a slog, there is no such thing as a killer hill, it’s just the pace you choose to go up it that kills! It was time to lengthen my stride, relax and let gravity work its magic on the long down but ouchy ouchy, my quads and glutes weren’t for relaxing, if they could make a face it would be of one that’s just sooked a lemon. I suppose that's what I get for trying to run marathon pace when I’m not marathon trained and especially on a course that is mainly down hill. I wasn’t prepared for this race but I knew that even running at an easy pace there is no such thing as an easy marathon, it’s a long way, it was gonna hurt but my next incredulous thoughts were “My legs weren’t as sore as this at the Glenmore 24! The last time I had around 4 miles to go I’d already ran 104 miles! So as a gnarly old ultra runner another 4 miles would be nae bother. Get on with it!” But even for a gnarly old ultra runner it did hurt but with my squiffy mentality it was still fun and a privilege.
I slogged it out, hauling my jarring legs in, at around the 25 miles a guy in front stepped off the road and leaned against the wall, I shouted “Come on, hang in there!” as I went by, his reply was reminiscent of an alpha stag at the autumn rut! Why do men have to be so vocal when they puke?
Pauline was standing by the bouncy foot bridge just after 25 miles; it was her turn to shout at me “COME ON!” I answered just as loudly “ALRIGHT!” The last mile, the bitter sweet, so glad to get it done, so proud to achieve. My apologies to my friends that shouted to me as I approached the finish, I didn’t acknowledge you because I couldn’t hear you, the crowd en masse were deafening! Thank you all for your support.
Ten Loch Ness Marathons done. 262 miles on the same route, it is a beautiful route and for folk that are time orientated it is a PB course. Don’t let the hill after Dores psych you out there is more down hill than up. That is why my quads are still giving me grief a week later but sooooo worth it. Yeah, I’ll be there next year.
Pauline and I arrived around an hour and a half before the start and were instantly hit with how relaxed and easy going this event was. I asked where I could park and was told anywhere I liked; I saw George and Karen so we decided to be their neighbours. Most of the 24 hour races I’ve either ran or supported have been under the strict rules of the IAU, this event was going to be SO different. Pauline asked if it would be ok if she could run a lap of the course in reverse, just to see it and take some photos, Bill said “Do what you want, run with Fiona if you like; we just want everyone to enjoy themselves.” My kind of race! Rule No.1 Enjoy!
My training has been quite minimal but my duff Achilles that’s been giving me grief most of the year has settled down and I decided I wasn’t undertrained just well rested and ready to go. I’ve had three 20 mile runs, just enough to practice my ultra groove, I know how to run tired; I didn’t need to practice it in training! I had a secret goal of 100 miles; I didn’t want to say out loud what I was aiming for because I thought folk would raise their eyebrows in an “Aye right!” kinda way. But I knew that however slow the pace I would not stop. I never have and never will.
We were soon under way, the 4 mile lap started on the grass with a wee steep slope which turned onto a lumpy narrow path, after that it was a wide track with some gentle undulations but a fairly even flat surface, I called this part “the long run” because ever lap I ran it all. Then there was a left turn up a steep-ish hill, it levelled a bit then we got the long steep hill with the half way checkpoint on it. Before the race I’d decided to run all the first lap and then plan where to walk on the rest of the laps until I saw that hill, I walked up the really steep part, I picked points after the checkpoint and every lap I’d run short sections of the hill. Then there was a long descent, I took it very easy, it was of a gradient that would kill the quads if you weren’t careful. Then a nice meander on a flat track with a wee kick of a hill, a left turn down about five stone steps and back to base camp on the grass.
On the second lap I fell on the lumpy narrow path, I went down with quite a clump; my juice bottle flew out of my bottle belt and wheeched past my right ear to land on the ground in front of me beside my sunglasses! I think I gave Vicky quite a fright, she stopped her race to help me up but besides a few wee flesh wounds, a bleeding, burning heel on my left palm, a wee scuff on the heel of my right hand, a bleeding right elbow and a bruised left one, a wee dunt on my left knee (I was well pleased I hadn’t torn my Skins, too flaming expensive!) Eight and a half stone from not very high up, assuming the shape of a starfish on landing so not one point of contact took the full force reduced the chance of serious damage. A stingy anti-septic wipe next lap and I was fine. Pauline kept a detailed lap sheet, her entry in the comment box for lap 2. Skint elbow. Unofficial rest already! I didn’t lie down for very long, honest!
Pauline came with me on the fourth lap, she was no pace maker, if anything she messed with my smooth rhythm, scampering about in front then behind taking photos, I’m glad she did though the scenery was outstanding. I felt I didn’t settle until the fifth lap, 20 miles, that kinda made sense to me, I don’t feel settled in the WHW until after Balmaha, 20 miles. I was comparing the Glenmore 24 to the WHW and 24 hour racing. I decided it was like the bread I’d made my ginger jam pieces with, Hovis Best of Both. Stunning scenery and all run-able (depending on the freshness of the legs), whether it’s a good run or a not so good run, you still get to stop at 24 hours, a short one in my book!
Pauline was doing a great job offering me food every lap, it was hard to decide what I wanted, with the laps being 4 miles there couldn’t be any “Get it next lap!” I made it even harder for her; I will never wait for anything so Pauline had to be sharp. I managed to eat well throughout the race although it was a struggle sometimes to decide what I wanted. During the WHW I know what I’m going to pick up at all the checkpoints and I look forward to it. In the early evening I thought about where I would I be if on the WHW and what would I be eating? I’d have been heading towards Bridge of Orchy, where I pick up a wee bag of boiled new tatties, tossed in butter, freshly ground salt, pepper and mint. That’s what I’ll have next lap (I’d prepared a couple of bags)
When it got dark and cooled down, I put on my white fleece, I thought that I’d be easy seen by Ada, counting the laps (and what a star she was, shouting she’d got me every lap, I don’t think she took a break throughout the race) and for Pauline, but that was a fail! I’d come through the start of base camp looking towards our wee tent and table, no Pauline! “Hello?” I called. She’d been standing with Norry, who’s supporting Jeroen at his bonfire in a bucket. She said she’d shouted “Is that you Fiona?” I hadn’t heard her because everyone at base camp was shouting all the runners’ names as they came through, the support was brilliant. Seconds later she appeared at my side, but not without causing a little mayhem in her wake, she’d tripped over not one but two guy ropes on the tent that Norry’s Dad was trying to have a wee kip. Not any more after Hurricane Pauline had hit!
The sky was clear, a beautiful night, the stars were absolutely stunning without the pollution of street lights bleeding the life out of them. I staggered off the path as I looked up, that was a bit daft, no point risking another fall. I stopped briefly, putting my hand over my head torch and savoured the moment when every star belonged to me.
I’d brought plenty warm clothes, and nearly every lap through the night Pauline would ask me if I was warm enough, I was moving well, eating well and generating enough body heat, I always answered yes. Out on the course the temperature was cool but the trees had held onto some of the warmth of the day but in the open of base camp it had dropped below zero, you could feel it as you hit the open ground. Pauline’s Skin So Soft had frozen solid; she was well prepared for the cold but found it challenging jogging beside me with her hands full of my mug and food with a hot water bottle stuffed up her jumper without it falling out! She also ran a lap with me around midnight and another one later on; I think it helped to keep her warm and awake.
I never paid much attention to what lap I was on, they were being expertly counted and log by Ada and Pauline, I just stuck to my routine of the lap, always drinking and eating at certain points and on “the long run” checking my posture and running it all, it would’ve been easy to give in to a walk on the undulations but if I did that I’d walk on that point every lap from then on. When training if I come to a point where I can choose a hard option or an easy option I have one rule. Never choose easy.
I had a great boost from one of the marshals at the halfway checkpoint at the back of 3am. She shouted “Fiona! You are one of the strongest runners here!”
On one lap I was running with Mimi, I was a bit in awe; I thought “She lapped me three times yesterday!” I was now running with her, she told me about her recent Double Badwater, and that she’d be running the Spartathlon at the end of the month! I hope I kept my jaw off the ground; I had enough grazed bits as it was!
My laps were averaging around 55 mins and not one went over the hour, I did have a few that were 59 minutes from around 4.00am. (In hospitals I think it’s known as death hour, when the body is at its lowest.) I plodded on through the dawn, Loch Morlich was stunning with a lazy mist lying on it, Pauline came round with me for a fourth and last time, taking more photos and was lucky enough to snap one of a deer, but you’ll need to look close.
At 7.00am my normal wake up time, I perked up, my next lap was 51 mins. I’d had my I-pod since about 10.00pm my playlist (aptly named Run Forever) was keeping the pace.
Skiltron’s Fast and Wild lyrics struck a cord. I’m still a Rampant Lion and I can still effin roar!
Follow the wind without thinking about it,
Breaking it all, facing the storm!
Fearless and faster than everything else,
Avoiding death, even in hell!
Taking the baton, heading the race.
Becoming the wildest, go for them!
Freeway the road, get to the end.
No step back.
Roaring like a lion…
I battered down the hill, I didn’t need my quads any more, my heart and soul were now in charge and it was a Highland Charge they were planning!
Pauline told me I had time for three more laps as long as I don’t let it go. “Nae chance” I thought. “Ok. Three laps, I can do that.” Then I thought “That’s twelve miles!” instantly I disregarded that thought, the distance in miles sounded too far, concentrating on just three laps would be easier! The support going through base camp was phenomenal, all the cheering, I soaked up all the strong vibes; it brought a lump to my throat that everyone willed me on. Pauline never logged my time for lap 26 but in the comment box she wrote BLOODY FAST.
The last lap, Pauline came with me up the grassy slope then told me to “Bugger Off!” I laughed out loud; perfectly timed Runrig’s Clash of the Ash. COME ON! ALRIGHT! I shouted it long after the song finished, I didn’t care who heard me. “The long run” was hard, when I got to the steep-ish hill my breathing was ragged and my throat raw, I forced in a wee bit tablet. I’d got myself back under control just in time to see Robin and Anne Wombill walking towards me, what a boost to see my friends, they said “See you at the finish.” I was only half kidding when I replied “You’d better hurry up then!” I was taking no prisoners. It was a Highland Charge, no holding back, nae fear. COME ON! At the half way checkpoint I thanked Alan Silcock for his support during the race, I received a hug. That’s ok, running warriors do hugs! I battered down the hill one last time. I wiped the slavers from my face and pushed to the finish. I stopped at 23.46.49. 27 laps. 108 miles. 2nd burd and 4th overall. (Excuse my ineloquence) FUCK! I have never ever finished a race in such a prestigious position. I doubt I will ever do it again.
I deliberately left writing my race report for a week, so I could come down from cloud nine and write with a clear head, sorry I failed, I’m still buzzin’ and emotional. (A wee pause while I clear the lump from my throat.) Thank you, Bill and Mike for putting on such a brilliant event, to all your helpers, you were brilliant, thank you for your support especially those at the half way checkpoint, that was a tough post but all your encouragement made all the difference. Ada, I had every confidence in your lap counting. Lastly Pauline, you pandered to my diva demands and rose to everything I threw at you. You don’t have to worry; I’ll do the same for you, and more, in a coupe of weeks.
Put the Glenmore 24 in your diaries, it is going to grow to be an event equal to the WHW. Folk that know me know I won’t say that lightly.
Glenmore 24 thank you for one of the best days of my life.
