Just a training run!

When Alistair Macpherson said he was going to do one last big fundraising event Pauline and I were on board for support.  We’ve been there for his previous big challenges and we weren’t going to let him do the final one without us! This one is huge and a lot further than he has ever gone before,180 miles in 70 hours for Highland Hospice, going from Glasgow to Inverness on the West Highland Way, the Great Glen Way then onto the road at Fort Augustus using the Loch Ness Marathon route to finish at the Highland Hospice which is situated on the final stretch of the Loch Ness Marathon. 

There would be a wee change of tactics for this one, with it being so long Ally is going to factor in a few short sleeping breaks so I suggested we practice that in training and came up with the idea of splitting a 40 mile run into two. The South Loch Ness Trail is on his doorstep and we’ve never been on it so I thought it would be good to go somewhere new. Ally agreed it was a good plan and since we’d be running through the night during the event we should do that in training too.  I suggested we drive to Dores, park up, run the 10-ish miles back to his house in Inverness, have 40 winks then take another car to Fort Augustus and run the 30-ish miles to the car parked in Dores where we would leave some warm dry clothes and a wee snack then head back round the Loch and pick up the vehicle parked in Fort Augustus then back home.  

So with a plan in place Pauline and I drove up to Inverness on Friday afternoon. Now, Ally is well known for getting weather during his challenges and it looked like we would get some in training too, Storm Dennis was on his way and a yellow weather warning was in place for the weekend but if you’re Scottish that just means you wear yer big coat and mine is exactly that, one size bigger than my usual so there’s plenty room for layers, my arse is well covered and I can pull the sleeves down over my hands for extra cover, so let’s just get on with it.  

We chilled out for a few hours, discussing the logistics for Ally K’s Long Run, eating huge bowls of Macaroni Cheese before getting geared up and heading off. It was around a 15 minute drive to Dores, I only had to brake sharply once to avoid a deer!

We started our run around 10.15pm, Pauline had printed out the route info and it was well marked but with it being new to us and dark we were careful not to miss any marker posts.  At times it was heavy going under foot, wading through mud and flood, I’m sure it will be a pretty route in daylight. The rain had eased off and eventually stopped, the sky cleared and was full of stars, this was a surprise, we had expected to get drookit! So it was a pleasant 11 mile run back to Ally’s house, fairly dry (from the shins up) with no problems, part one done! 

Back at the house I had a cup of tea, a pot of instant porridge, a change of running gear then a lie down on the bed for around 40 minutes, another pot of porridge and cup of tea before Ally drove to Fort Augustus, which took just under an hour, so we eventually set off on part two of our run at 4.50am. 

The wind had picked up and was bitterly cold, at least with running north/east it would be behind us most of the time and in a few hours we’ll have daylight.

The path out of Fort Augustus seemed fairly new and flat, a nice gentle start but that didn’t last long, we were soon climbing and quite steeply, looking back down over the twinkling lights of the town was a pretty view, I don’t suppose many are daft enough to come up in the dark to see it!

Although we were attentive looking out for route markers we missed one going by Glendoe Hydro works, we were watching our feet on the steep icy road but it was no big blunder, we just came out on the B862 sooner than expected, we decided to stay on the road for a short stretch rather than go back up and retrace our steps, it wasn’t long until we were back on route and climbing up onto open moorland.

The higher we climbed the wind gathered strength buffeting us about, bringing a mix of rain,snow and hail to sting our cheeks. With the snow lying in thick patches it was tricky finding the path, and difficult placing our feet, sometimes the snow held firm and other times I sank deep up to my knees, as we reached the top of the “big white mountain” (that’s what we called it anyway), it was really more of a hill marked on the map as Suidhe viewpoint, it was still quite dark so there was not much of a view for us, we weren’t going to hang around waiting for one either!

 I’ve been up the Pentlands and the Lomonds when it’s been blowing a hoolie, even a bunch of us were out running during Hurricane Bawbag in 2011 (which killed my shed), this is the strongest wind I have ever attempted to run in, (there was very little running going on) Storm Dennis was giving us his best shot! I struggled to keep my feet, trying to stay sideways to the wind for the least resistance as possible, the peak on my Buff was flattened against the side of my face, the good news, at least it stopped the hail from stinging so much, the bad news, it also covered my right eye! I had the vision of a pirate and very little control of where I was going, so there was no surprise I got blown onto my backside, I wasn’t dismissing or underestimating the conditions, this could be serious if we weren’t careful but I laughed out loud at the ridiculousness of it. I heard Pauline laughing too! It took a fair bit of time (just checking Strava), just under an hour to cover the highest and exposed two miles of the route! It was a relief when we headed down towards the relatively sheltered forest track where we could gather ourselves, get some food in and recover from the energy sapping battle we’ve just had. 

The weather never abated but least now in daylight and mostly at a lower level it didn’t seem too bad compared to what we had for the first third of the second part of our run, the rest of the route was a nice mix of forest track, woodland, minor road and farm land, a few wee water crossings which in better weather would be pretty insignificant.

We just kept a steady effort, letting the terrain dictate the pace, running where it was easy going and walking up the hills, one monster hill known locally as the Corkscrew road, a narrow track with a million hairpin bends that I imagine would fit well into a mountain stage of the Tour de France with close ups of grimacing, suffering cyclists. 

At around 30 miles at a junction on a minor road, there was a marker for the Trail of the Seven Lochs which shares some of the South Loch Ness Trail but no marker for our route, we had a wee dither deciding which way to take when we heard a shout!  Up the hill about a hundred yards away was a lone cottage and an old boy stood at the door waving to us. Pauline and I walked up to speak to him, before we could ask if he could confirm our direction, he shouted “ Come in, come in, I’m not coming out in this weather in my slippers, don’t mind the sheep, he thinks he’s a dog, and I have used him to herd cattle!” 

We protested saying “Oh no, we’re wet and muddy!” 

Again, he insisted we come in, “Don’t worry, I don’t do housework!” A wee shuffle of our feet on a doormat and into what must have started life as a kitchen, it had a sink, kettle and microwave, but now was a proper indoor man-shed, with a log pile that would see him into the summer, the table had a vice attached and covered in tools and stuff, so was every other surface.  He offered us tea, we politely refused, saying if we stopped we wouldn’t get going again, he went into great detail describing our route and where all the other paths go, I was getting a bit bamboozled with all the information but managed to retain the “Straight on here, then second left, there is a marker but it quite often gets knocked down!” I don’t suppose he gets many visitors and eventually I think we chatted long enough that it wouldn’t seem rude if we left. Heading out, he said “Wait a minute while I get my wellies on.” he walked us to his gate, feeding his sheep a bread roll as he went, stood and waved until we were out of sight. I gave him a final cheery wave and hoped we brightened up his day as he did mine.   

We were climbing once more and hopefully for the last time up the Fair Haired Lads Pass (a wee bit of Googling led me to a newspaper article that suggests it was named after an old man that had died crossing the hill on a stormy night) and at 333m above sea level, the second highest point on the South Loch Ness Trail. There would’ve been fine views over to Urquhart Castle and along the loch if the weather was better, we dropped down to the where the trail ran parallel to the road back to Dores. 

Those final miles were quite a slog but at no time did any of us feel like we were carcass hauling, we still bantered along.  Reflecting on the races I’ve done so far this year, covering 40 miles during the Falkirk 8 hour ultra with challenging underfoot conditions and 50 miles during the Tyndrum 12 hour in January never made me feeling as weary as I did heading towards Dores, testament to effort needed for what was “just a training run”  41 miles with over 4500 feet of climbing along with the lack of sleep, battling the conditions and the terrain all added up to a epic day and perfect practice for Ally going into his challenge in April. 

Looking back over my 34 years of running I can safely say this is one of the most challenging training runs I've ever had!

If you want to follow his progress during the challenge Ally will have a tracker, the link will be available from the event facebook page and if you'd like to support the charity here’s his Just Giving link. 

Falkirk 8 hour Trail Race

It was just at the beginning of the year I realised that the Falkirk 8 hour Trail Race would be two weeks after the Tyndrum 12 hour. Oh well, never mind, it will be good training remembering how to run tired and being on a loop there was no pressure to hit cut-offs and the plan was at least 30 miles (8 laps),  and a good target would be 35 miles (9 laps). 

Going by the photo from the race facebook page of the start line and where the tented village would be on Friday night it was going to be a bit damp and muddy underfoot but ultras rarely get cancelled, just adapted, a lot of time and effort put in by race crew and after a wee adjustment of the route and moving the start over a bit, we were good to go. 

photo from Falkirk 8 hour Trail Race

Pauline picked me up just before 6.00am and around half an hour later we found a spot to set up camp, Neil was bringing the club tent and Andy brought his gazebo, we joined forces with the Glenrothes Tri club with Pauline and  AJ supporting. I would be easy to look after this time, no hot food, drinks or Diva tendencies, I just wanted Pauline to note my lap times and I’d swap my water bottle when needed and pick up a custard or milkshake and carry it round the 3.80 mile lap. 

I’d registered with no problem when I arrived but I think with the majority of runners trying to sign in at the same time caused a bit of delay, no worries, just an 8.15am kick off instead of 8.00am and problem solved.  

Surprisingly it wasn’t raining when we arrived but it started not long after we were set up, I’d start in my big rain jacket and hopefully ditch it as the day progressed. A team photo (sorry Sarah, I think you were in the loo queue when we took it)  

First giggle of the day standing on the start line, Paul Kelly said that the shorts over tights combo is called shites, hope I can run better than my apparel then! 

I scampered round the first three laps, running more or less all of it, it was a good runnable course on fresh legs before it got churned up. Giggling with Karl as we were sliding about at the side of the pond. Then I caught my toe on a boulder hiding in the mud at the top of the hill in the woods, and did my fastest two yards in the race, luckily my legs caught up with my face and I didn’t have to eat mud. My legs reminding me they covered fifty miles a fortnight ago and weren’t as spritely as I thought. Time to work on energy management, concentrate on picking the best line through the mud, try to avoid any camber that will send my skiting sideways, I was giggling again at the length of skid marks on the slopes, a few were perfecting their best mud surfing techniques. I laughed out loud as Adrian Dingwall careened past me on the down hill like an out of control juggernaut on ice. I used the old ultra adage:  If you’re not sure whether to take one or two steps, take three! Fairying about with lots of little steps and no fighting the terrain seemed to work well for me. I was glad I was wearing gaiters and using the bunny lugs method for tying my laces, my shoes stayed secure even though the mud was trying to steal them.  

photo from Sandra Hunter 

I steadily plodded away, the rain also stayed steady, a persistent heavy drizzle but it never damped the spirits of the fantastic marshals on the route, every lap enthusiastically cheering everyone,on, and brilliant to see loads of pals turn up even just for a short time just to support, and a looped course is brilliant to see my speedy pals, every time I was lapped there was always a few words of encouragement or tap on the shoulder, just after negotiating the steep dip and climb back out of it, I had another laugh out loud moment, there was a huge groan from behind me, I’m sure Andy Jannetta was enjoying his day too… just the ditch bit... not so much! 

The beauty of a timed event on a loop is that if you’re recovering from illness, injury or daft enough to run another ultra a fortnight after a 24 hour race, you can call a halt any time it feels right. I had a few pals do just that! (Yeah, I know, ultra runners being sensible, this breed of athlete is evolving!)  After my seventh lap I paused to hug Martin when I saw him wearing a warm coat in the race village and forgot to pick up my custard but not to worry, you know that boggin’ emergency gel that’s about ten years out of date and has lived in a pocket of your backpack for around the same length of time! That did the trick!   

photo from James Day

I looked at my watch after eight laps, 6.02 hours, I should have time to get two more laps as long as I don’t ease off the pace, I really didn’t want to do a full hour on the wee laps (around 600 meters with a steep wee hill) I was pushing the effort a bit just to maintain the pace, keeping a close eye where I was putting my feet, I’ve managed to stay upright so far and wasn’t going to jinx it now by throwing caution to the wind, ninth lap steadily done and off for my final lap, I never noticed the rain stopping but it had eased away to nothing. I thanked all the marshals on the route, they stayed cheery throughout, a tough task in dreary conditions.  Another bonus of a lapped race I got to run with Andy Johns for the last bit of the big lap, that wouldn’t happen on a point to point.

10 laps done, 38 miles, I was really pleased with that especially with the conditions and a big race still in my legs from a fortnight ago, but I finished my last big lap with 24 minutes left to go... Can I make the 40 miles? The wee lap has a steep, muddy, hands on thighs climb which gradually levels out, followed by a steep grassy descent onto the flat, turn right and along towards Callendar House, back through the tented village and repeat. Right! I’m going for it! After finishing my first wee lap, I took off my jacket and backpack and hand them to Pauline saying “Haud ma coat, I’m away fur a fight!”  I would have laughed if I had breathe to spare, hands on thighs and stomp up the muddy hill, now it’s time to throw caution to the wind and I push the downhill as hard as I can, lengthening my ultra shuffle of a stride, let gravity pull me down and try to keep up!

photo from Barry Davie

Back round to the tents, I can hear the encouragement and my name being called, my apologies for not acknowledging you, my eyes are focused in front, arms pumping hard, weary legs following. My Garmin showed 40 miles but these doofers are always a bit rule of thumb and I wouldn’t trust one on a loop, they get dizzy and confused, also you have to take into account that the lap would have been measured to the racing line and not the wide arc I was taking to avoid most of the mud on the bends and deviations going to the loo etc. adds to the discrepancy.  Keep pushing, one more lap, keep pushing, one more lap, what time is left? Keep pushing, one more lap, we must be nearly finished, ...once more, hands on thighs and push up the hill...let me get to the bottom of the hill... mild panic...the way I’m pushing down, there’s no way I’d be able stop if the hooter blows! Made it! Can we stop yet? The countdown and hooter! Finally! Yaaay! I poke the wee wooden stake with my number on it into the ground so my partial lap can be measured and added. 

I took a short-cut across the grass towards our tent and Ken walked towards me with my jacket, my battle done, no blood was spilled and hoping I was successful. I had to wait until Monday for the official results. Yaaaay, I made it by a slide, finishing with 40.14 miles! 

Falkirk 8 hour Ultra Trail Race, I do love a loopy race and this is a cracker, thank you so much, and thank you to all your wonderful volunteers, I can’t have all this fun without you all putting in the hard work. I think I’m due Pauline a favour or two for looking after me again.

Lastly you cannae beat a goody bag with a quality beer in it, (BrewDog), a bespoke medal, long-sleeved-hoody t-shirt, buff scarf and I had to fight my family off when I was home. “This is my Tunnock’s Teacake, I ran 40 miles to get it and I’m no’ sharing!”   Value for money or what! (I’m presuming you got the mud and rain for free)

When do entries open for next year?