Training has gone very well this year, without a single
cough, sneeze or niggle covering around 50 to 60 miles most weeks. The Skye Half Marathon on the 9th
June was a breeze and the following fortnight of taper was fine without too
many symptoms of the dreaded taperitis.
I was in great shape and decided to just give my support the splits from
my PB year to work from (26.14.48hrs in 2007) although I included last year’s
sheet (32.17.11hrs, my slowest year) for reference. I always move forward at the best of my ability
and these splits were for guidance only, not goals, there are too many
variables on the WHW to plan precise timings and you’ve just got to go with the
flow.
I had a nice chilled Friday, having bagged and labelled all
my gear on Thursday, just resting, cooking some potatoes for my adventure
supplies, doing my race manicure, (Carnegie colours) and going to bed for a few
hours in the afternoon, I managed to doze off for a while and then just lay
listening to gentle music until 5.30pm. I had a lovely long shower, savouring
the warm water knowing the next time I’ll be clean will be Sunday morning.
9.00pm Mel, Kevin and Adam arrived and within half an hour
the roof box was on the car and my mountain of gear was added, luckily Kevin
does have quite a big car but I think it was groaning all the way to
Milngavie. The weather had been fair in
Fife and we tried to bring it with us but failed, at Milngavie the rain was
stotting down, Mel wouldn’t let me out the car until I’d donned a big ghost of
a poncho, she volunteers at the Moon Walk every year and “borrowed” a handful. I registered and was weighed then went back to
the car, it wasn’t long before the rest of the Carnegie gang arrived and we had
a bit of birthday bash. The WHW was Sue’s way of celebrating her 50th
birthday and doing my support was a rather unique way for Adam to celebrate
turning 18! A rendition of Happy Birthday and a couple of bits of birthday
cakes at midnight was a splendid way to while away the countdown to the start.
After Sean’s race briefing it was time to attempt a team
photo, there’s always someone missing, this time it was Richie.
Then over to
the start, the air was crackling with excitement, Pauline and I were shouting
our Clash of the Ash. COME ON! ALRIGHT! COME ON! ALRIGHT! Some hugs and best wishes then at 1.00am we
were off, 172 runners with hope in our hearts.
(photo from Pauline's support Jim Garvie)
Milngavie High Street was lined with cheering supporters, last year it
took me by surprise but this time I was grinning from ear to ear as we were
cheered all the way to the turn, I switched on my head torch and with so many
runners the path was brightly lit, as we strung out in the dark, I wondered
what we would look like if seen from above, probably a gigantic, magical,
sparkly caterpillar. There was a fair
bit of banter and chatter as folk were skirting round puddles trying to keep
feet dry for as long as possible along the lumpy bumpy path, I heard a loud
shout of sweary words from behind, Fiona MacD had just gone over on her ankle,
I shouted to keep moving, walk it out, but I saw the pain on her face, it was a
sair yin, Vicky O’R was with her but I felt guilty moving on, and it wasn’t
until I spoke to Fiona in Fort William I found out that that was the end of her
race… until next year!
Along the old railway line by Glengolye Distillery aka the
path of a thousand gates (and this year the path of a thousand puddles) it was
along here I finally gave up trying to keep my feet dry, it was impossible and
a waste of energy going around and up the banking of the path. I was
with David Ross, he said he had the honour of being the heftiest in the race
weighing in at 115kilos, which was more than two of me! I was in awe of what he was doing; if pound
for pound the effort was equal did it mean I would have to get to Fort William
then turn round and go back to Milngavie? That will never happen!
I was a bit confused when we hit the tarmac road at
Gartness, someone said “If you’re lost, heaven help the rest of us!” In my
defence it was still pitch dark; I’ve often switched off my head torch once
I’ve got here! The rain was still
bouncing off the tarmac and the road was just a river, I was now blethering
with Gary, doing his first WHW heading towards Drymen. After turning right into the field I phoned
Mel to say I was about five minutes away, it was here I had my first wee
problem with my shoes, heading up hill the right insole started to rumple up
and crease under my heel, I think with it being so wet it was just floating
about, I‘ve worn this make and model of shoe for years and never encountered
this before. When I met my team I stopped to flatten out the insole and swapped
my backpack, (I use two, so I don’t have to wait on it being refuelled) heading
up the path my insole rumpled again, it was quite uncomfortable with a big fold
under my heel and my toes hanging over the front of it, but on the flattish bits
and downhill it would sort itself out, I’ve had blisters the size of golf balls
on my heels during my first WHW and I didn’t want to repeat that experience if
necessary. I had planned to keep these
shoes on until Bridge of Orchy but I’ll change them at Rowardennan. I eventually took off my head torch at the Garadhban
stumps, and heading up Conic hill, this is the first time I’ve walked up a
waterfall, the water on the path was shin deep, I’ve never seen it like this
before, and this is my ninth WHW, I supported Pauline in 2002, which was a wet
year too, I’ll ask her later if it compares.
Heading down I was with Sue, Silke and Robin, I walked down cautiously
on the wet slippy ground, it’s just not worth the risk of gaining a few seconds
here, there are no goblets awarded for getting to Balmaha fast!
I went straight through, shovelling in my
rice pudding with honey, Mel carried my mug of tea and Kevin and Adam shoved a
banana and some Maltesers into my backpack. As usual, I enjoyed the section to
Rowardennan, the night is over, Conic hill done, relax and enjoy the privilege
of being here.
I had a wee problem with my left foot, the bones were now
jarring with every footfall, I went through the possible causes, between a
stress fracture and just having my lace a bit tight, no matter, only half my
footsteps to Fort William would hurt and as the race continued, no doubt, other
pains will shout louder.
At Rowardennan my team were brilliant, getting my socks and
shoes changed; I was soon on my way now wearing my wrap around clear lens glasses
to keep the midges out my eyes.
Towards Inversnaid it
was lovely to have Sue’s company and Jonathan’s too, we looked out for each
other crossing all the fast flowing
water, one wrong step or slip and it’s an ouchy flume into Loch Lomond. As we approached Inversaid the waterfall was
thunderous, I regretted not carrying my camera. I was rendered almost
speechless; “WOW!” was all I could muster.
As we approached the checkpoint, two folk came towards us, heavily
disguised in waterproofs, we got closer, Karin pushed back her hood. Huge emotional hugs! Thank
you for being there with Brenda, in such miserable conditions, just to raise
the spirits of all the runners coming through, the memories of running with you
last year came flooding back.
I was buzzing after Inversaid, really enjoying the
challenge, the rain was still bouncing off my hood, my fingers-tips were
wrinkled hanging on to the soggy moss covered rocks and trees. The scrambly path is only scary if you were
trying to go faster than your capability; I stayed well within my comfort zone.
(photo from the Hoka Highland Fling 28/4/2012)
At Dario’s post, Sue and Jonathan were already there looking down the loch, I unfastened my racing hip flask from the chest strap of my
backpack, I poured Dario’s share on his post, raised the flask and said “You’re
just havin’ a laugh… but so are we!” I shared the rest of the Talisker with Sue and
Jonathan, minutes later Sue missed her footing and took a gracefully roll down
the side of path claiming she’s not a whisky drinker and it was only a token
gesture touch to her lips. I tried not
to laugh too much… but fail!
I was having another problem with my shoes, both Sorbothane heel
pads (which are made of a sticky silicone type stuff) that normally stays put,
were floating forward under my arches, I stopped a couple of times to sort them
but eventually gave up, deciding that as they moved about it was just like a
foot massage although not a very comfy or relaxing one!
One bonus of the dreich
conditions is that the foxgloves are beautiful; they stood out bright and tall,
their deep majestic purply pinks rich and vibrant. I think they are always at
their best on race day. (I have a couple of my own)
After Beinglas, the path isn’t so sheltered and with the
wind behind us I started to feel the cold penetrate my hamstrings and
shoulders. On the track heading to coo
poo corner, the water we were wading through seemed colder than before and was
giving me an ice-cream headache in my feet, but it dulled the pain in my left
foot and hopefully would reduce any inflammation.
Sue and I were still together and were discussing our plans
for Auchtertyre, she was going to have a complete change of clothes, that’s
something I’ve never done before but I’ve also never been so wet before! I don’t mind being wet really, it’s being
cold that causes problems so I decided to have the luxury of a full change
too. The Bogle Glen rollercoaster
whooshed along uneventfully and after crossing the road heading towards
Achtertyre a runner was heading towards us fully kitted out in waterproofs and
it wasn’t until she was quite close we recognised Morna, Sue’s support, she
took our requests and shot off back to the checkpoint.
Auchtertyre marks 50 miles and over half way, I arrived at
2.55pm, with over an hour to go until the cut-off at 4.00pm, no panic like last
year where I just made it with 10 minutes to spare. I was weighed and Mel pointed me towards one
of the toilets with its huge cubicle, where she helped me strip, what a
struggle it was getting a fresh pair of Skins on damp cold legs! Swapped the
Sorbothane from my other shoes and layering up with the clothes I’d bagged and marked
Glencoe. Three quarter length Skins,
tights and waterproof breeks on my legs, long-sleeved thermal, fleece,
lightweight jacket and big rain-jacket on my top half, no wonder it took 18
minutes, my longest stop! I walked out
shovelling in a tub of custard, and started running as soon as I finished it, I
could feel my body start to build up some heat, lovely. Heading past the By The Way Hostel Ken told me
that the runners were now being advised to go round by the road instead of
crossing the river as it’s in spate. Ok,
no problem, there’s not a lot of difference in the diversion except you’re on tarmac. I met my team again after crossing the road,
heading up past Brodies Store I had a lovely mug of Mel’s homemade soup, and
Sod’s flaming Law! The rain had eased and briefly I had a smidgen of a shadow! (If
you blinked you would have missed it) I decided to take off the waterproof breeks,
I was roasting now, Mel and Kevin hauled them off for me as I leaned on
them. Adam was running with me now and
it was lovely having his company along to Bridge of Orchy.
Bridge of Orchy (60 miles) no stopping here, just a wave to
the Lord of the Bridge as I went through, I didn’t even break stride, my team were
ready with my mug (my first coffee in a month, aaahhh!) and my rice
pudding. Kevin was now coming over
Rannoch Moor with me. We headed up the
hill towards Murdo’s Mount and we spend a few minutes with him and his Saltire,
he said that the race was won and Jez’s record had been broken! I think my reply was a bit confused, I
couldn’t comprehend that that was possible in these conditions. Sue with Morna keeping her company arrived
and we struck a pose trying to replicate 2010, the only thing that was the same
were the smiles!
Rannoch Moor can be a long slog if you’re struggling but my
legs were feeling strong and supple, I love the wide openness and that the
landscape hasn’t changed much since the ice-age with only a handful of manmade
intrusions. The weather stayed fair, I even take off my peaked Buff and rain
jacket for a short spell only putting them back on as we headed up and into the
cold wind towards Peter Flemings Monument.
At Glencoe gave a wave to Karen and George doing the
checkpoint and headed over to the car. With the path being a lot drier I
decided to change my socks for the first time since Rowardennan, I could feel a
few hot spots but there was nothing more than three wee blisters which I was rather
pleased with I expected them to be a bit more mushed after all the water, it
took Mel a bit of scrubbing with wet wipes trying to remove the silt and grit
ingrained in my skin and slap loads of Body Glide on. I was happy just sitting
eating my cheesy pasta Mug Shot, this stop took 13 minutes but well worth it,
my feet were warm and comfy, the hot spots soothed in to submission. Mel was keeping my company now for the last
25 miles, we walked down the tarmac as I finished off my pasta and my legs got
back into moving smoothly. I added my
florescent yellow woolly hat to my peaked Buff to keep in the heat, looking
like a proper Smurf, that’s fine, they had brilliant adventures too!
We passed Alyson just after Kingshouse, her legs looked sore
and seized, it was going to be a long
slog but there was no doubt she’d get her ninth Goblet. Silke and I were together again for a wee
while. I worked well getting up the Devil’s Staircase, time was marching on, it
was after 10.00pm and my goal was to get past the long boulder strewn path
before needing the head torch back on. Mel led and I followed, we did manage a
fair way before giving into the fading flat light, I’d started to kick, stotter
and squeal across the stones, Mel would jump round with lightening reflexes to
catch me in case I fell, but there was no real panic in my antics I was just fairying,
I told her not to waste her energy and only turn round if she heard a clump! I took my first couple of paracetamol, I
wanted them to kick in before heading down the long, long stony track into
Kinlochleven, the descent always hurts, my knees weren’t too happy and taking
the edge off helps to stay relaxed and moving, we didn’t run it, just speed
marched a good long stride, on this terrain, for me, it was the fastest way to
travel with minimum effort and damage to quads.
Kinlochleven Checkpoint, 80 miles. 00.59hours-In. Went for a pee, Julie weighed me. 01.01hours-Out.
Walked up the road with another lovely mug of Mel’s soup
then slogged up the hill which has more climbing than the Devil’s Staircase, it
just doesn’t look so impressive on the race profile since it starts from sea
level. Once up we pause and look back
over Kinlochleven to the top of track and see twinkly head torches just
starting their descent to the checkpoint, I wished them well. Lairig Mor was another speed march with not a
lot of running, I’m a shuffler and don’t pick my feet enough to make running an
energy efficient technique. We stop
briefly for a wee blether with Jeff Smith from the Wilderness Response Team,
the path winds on, the sky lightens and we take off the head torches, the path
winds on, I take another couple of paracetamol with a Slimfast, the path winds
on. I do a wee stock take; my body is
sore and tired but my heart is strong, my head is up, my mind is clear, there
will be no hallucinations for me again.
My thoughts turn to my Mum, its six months since she lost her battle with
cancer, no matter how tired or sore I feel from running, it will never touch
the level I witnessed my Mum endure with dignity and stoicism. It is a luxury having the health to push my
body to this extent and for fun!
The cold was starting to penetrate again, Mel was great at
making sure I was taking on food and drink, I was carrying a wee can of coke
but she just kept handing me her big bottle.
I was longing for Lundavra and the elixir what was waiting for me there,
a big mug of hot chocolate with added coffee and a finger of shortbread. We
eventually reached it and the boost is instant, I warmed up, the path is less
stony and more runnable although it has huge undulations. We passed more runners but not in a competitive
way, I’m just moving well, the big steps down, the steep climb up through the
tree stumps previously known as the spooky woods to the wide track, for the
first time in all my WHW’s I run every step, that never ending quad jarring
descent with a few sneaky inclines near the end (maybe they don’t incline much
but after ninety odd miles and lack of sleep they are tough!)
Mel asks if I want her company for the glory
mile. I want her to share it with me but know when I hit the pavement after the
Braveheart car park I’m very insular and selfishly savour my achievement. Kevin is at Braveheart, and I asked for my
Carnegie vest not realising he’d parked at the Leisure Centre and ran out to
meet us, if I’d known I wouldn’t have asked for it but after the request he
bolted off back but didn’t hear Mel shout it didn’t matter, it would’ve been
nice to finish in my vest but this race surpasses club allegiance we’re all
family.
At the corner of Braveheart, I turn my watch round to race time for the
first time since leaving Milngavie, 28hours 51minutes. Can I run a sub 9 minute
final mile? COME ON, go for it! I revel in what I’m about to attempt, no matter
the time; this just makes it even more fun! Halfway along I say to Mel to go on
I wasn’t going to let it go. Although
I’m working at “sprint” pace Mel moves off like a floored Ferrari to get a
prime spot for a photo, Kevin is sprinting back to me with my vest, a humungous
thank you but I’m in my stride and not stopping now. I see the sign for the Leisure Centre, the
car park is chock-a-block with vehicles, I try to go “racing line” luckily no
car loses a wing mirror as juke my way though, I bang both hands on the glass
door with a bit more force than I intended , I startled the folk inside. The door is opened and Ian says “Fiona, I’ve
got you at 28.59.59!” I laugh and think
sub 29 hours, bonus! Mel hugs me tight
until my breathing and emotion is under control.
I've done it!
Mel takes me for a walk round the car park then I sit and
have a mug of tea and a slice of toast and I gather myself and my thoughts
together, that was tough but not
traumatic…but that was a thought too soon!
Mel and I head to the showers; I get my clothes off Mel squeals “A
tick!” I squeal louder “Gerr it off,
gerr it off!” I twist round to see the
wee beastie on my bum! Mel threw my
towel over my shoulders and shot off to get help. I stand there starkers, all
of a dither, but I put my big running knickers back on at half mast, just in
time for Sean to enter the ladies changing room, my knight in surgical gloves,
and what a pro, he doesn’t flinch at all at the proximity of a minging white
butt cheek and removes the blood sucking b*stard. I take a deep breath, trauma over, a shower,
and sleeping bag in a tent behind the Leisure Centre, what luxury!
We head to Nevisport
and catch up with most of the Carnegie clan also there for breakfast. All
faring well, we had eight starts and sadly Richie was the only one not to
finish. My legs weren’t too bad on the
stairs either, it’s traditional for support to mock their runners here but I
didn’t give them much to laugh at. I
also catch Mel while she’s still a bit dazed and tired and ask her if she’ll do
my support next year, I think she thought I was asking is she was enjoying her
fry up and she said “Yes!” I’ll hold her to it though!
The prize giving is an exceptional event where every finisher,
all 119 of us is awarded our goblets individually, the conditions took their
toll, 53 didn’t make it. Some walk fairly normally for their moment of
well-deserved heart-warming applause, some hobble, Tim shows off with a sprint!
(He couldnae of ran hard enough, the slacker!) Ada receives her Goblet sitting
in a wheel-chair, Lesley’s is pick up by Morna on her behalf as she’s still in
A&E. Whether you finish first or
last, everyone is a winner. Pauline is
awarded a special memento for joining a rather exclusive bunch, The 10 Club,
one of only five and the first woman to have completed 10 WHW races, next year
Alyson and Tony will hopefully join the exclusive club and I hope they don’t
mind if I make it a little less prestigious and they let me join too!
But just because I’ve completed nine WHW’s before there is no
guarantee I’ll do it again. I’m not much of a gambler but the more often you
chance fate it’s bound to slap you in the gub eventually, I do feel a bit
invincible having dodged the bullet in 2005 but how much longer will my luck
hold? FOREVER if I’ve got anything to do
with it!
But without the dedication of the race officials and supporters
no Goblet will ever grace the mantelpiece of those privileged enough to make it to
the finish. Sean must also be mentioned in dispatches for going beyond the call of duty.
Before and after with my team.
Mel, Kevin and Adam I could not have done it without you. THANK YOU SO MUCH
It is an honour being part of the West Highland Way Family and the next clan gathering will be on the 22nd June 2013, see you all there if not before!
