Glenmore 24 2022

The year has been ticking along nicely, it’s been lovely getting back to normality, running and marshalling at races, training has been fine too, At the beginning of August I entered a new age category, picked up my bus pass, and a birthday t-shirt with the slogan “Assuming I’m just an old lady was your first mistake!”  Hell, yeah! Of course I’ll be targeting 100 miles at Glenmore.  I’ve even managed to dodge Covid since the start of the pandemic… Harumph!  No such luck! Pete brought it home and generously shared it with me three weeks before the race. Thankfully, we are fully vaccinated and weren't hit too hard. I had two to three days feeling shivery and flu-like then another week or so feeling more like I had  a horrible cold and headache. The weekend before the race I was feeling more like my old self but waited until Monday to go for a wee run, both lungs and legs felt fine, a wee boost to my confidence I’ll be able to run with my target duly adjusted, minimum distance would be to, at least, make it to an ultra, my real target was 52 miles, 13 laps, that would round up my total Glenmore miles to 1000, I’ve been running Glenmore every year since it started in 2011, if I got further than the 52, that would be a bonus. It was suggested to me to consider dropping down to the 12 hour race but I didn’t want  the pressure of making the 52 miles in that time, I’d rather have plenty of time to stroll if necessary. 

More bad news, Pauline had Covid, two weeks away from the race, (thankfully not from me, I never would’ve heard the end of it if it was! Actually, Pauline was blaming Bill for her not being able to come, he’d given her number 13!) She was hit harder than me and although hoping to make a miraculous recovery, it wasn’t happening so I’d be heading up to Glenmore on Friday afternoon on my own. We’d bought a shelter that I’m able to put up myself, but I wasn’t concerned if I needed help, this is Glenmore and it was offered as soon as I started getting myself organised, and my neighbours gave a wee help pulling a tarpaulin over the top to make a canopy to protect the mesh door from the rain that was forecast for during the race.

With having it all to myself there was plenty of room to put up my pop-up tent in the back for Friday night and take it down Saturday morning, as much as I wasn’t planning any great distance I wasn’t planning on stopping either.  Ally popped by for a wee blether, he was on his own tonight too, Donna and Lewis were coming along in the morning with Donna running her first ultra. 

I was a bit of a party-pooper and didn’t have any Minions stuff for the fancy dress party this year, but there were plenty that did, what a giggle Friday night was and just what I needed. 

Photo from Bill Heirs 

I slept as well as could be expected in a wee tent, in a shelter with a rattling tarpaulin on top, it was a bit windy through the night, but it was all pegged down well and stayed put, other gazebos weren’t so lucky. I had a chilled morning getting ready, Val and Gillian arrived mid morning to do support, they were meant to be looking after Pauline and me but I would have their undivided attention all to myself, shame I wasn’t going to be a demanding diva this year!  Val gave me a talking to about being careful and I have other races ahead and once I got the 13 laps I could stop if needed.  I nodded affirmatively saying I wouldn’t be daft, but in my head I was thinking “Aye. Right. I’ve never stopped in a race yet!”  In my defence, I’ve kinda got the gist on how my body hold up, I’ve now had it for 60 years and have been running with it for 36 years,  my first marathon was 30 years ago and my first ultra 25 years ago and this was my 92nd ultra, I have honed my energy management skills to a gold medal standard and with no huge goal other than having fun I doubted I would do myself any serious or lasting damage post covid.  

11.30am Bill and Sean gave the briefing, then a last minute visit to the loo, a photo then I stood at the back of the pack ready to go.

Woooohooo! I’m back on the wonderful 4 mile loop that is Glenmore 24, chatting with those around me and spotting my favourite trees, pretty bits and wee points where I’d normally transition from running and walking that I haven’t seen since last year, the heather wasn’t as vibrant as it has been in the past, I suppose because it has been so dry. Oopsies! Take it easy my arse, my first lap split was on a par with every other Glenmore first lap, but I was just excited to be back and scampered round like a puppy that’s discovered the gate was open or even like Pauline’s wee white dug, Glen. 

On my second lap I did try to slow down, although it wasn’t by much, near the end of it my legs were talking to me. “Oi, you, we’ve no’ run for three weeks and there’s a valid reason why, ca’ canny!” So on the third lap I picked up my camera, paused to take photos and eased into a gentler pace, just being here was a privilege and I’m lucky to have made the start, so I settled into a groove that was a bit more relaxed than my usual Glenmore effort.  

At the end of my sixth lap just after 6.00pm I did something I have never done in a 24 hour race before, I sat down for over 20 minutes to eat a Mugshot Mac n Cheese. With having a full tummy I set off to walk a whole lap, except when I got to the down hill I did pick it up to a shuffle. I think this might’ve been the lap I had a lovely blether with Helen, it’s grand when your pace coincides with someone for a wee while, there’s something special about the candid, from the heart chats of being side by side during the magic of Glenmore loops regardless of what distance you’re aiming for, I was quite lucky to have a few pals who’s pace ebbed and flowed to match mine for nice stretches of the loop, Jodie and Mairi had my wittering company for a good bit and even those that galloped by always had a cheery word. 

A lap of so later when I went past the party gazebo Noanie said Yan’s soup was there if I wanted, and just to bring my mug over, so next lap I left my mug saying I’ll pick it up next time round, just over an hour or so later when I entered the Hayfield Noanie was standing at the start of the loop with my mug. Oh Yanny, that was wonderful soup and brought back memories from years ago when we’d all descend on Mum on a Saturday, Pauline and I would go for a long run and Erin would help her Grandma make a huge pot of soup with everything in it. No-one can ever make soup like your own Mum, this was the closest I’ve ever had since those days. Thank you x 

Yan's soup in progress 

Although I’d settled into a nice easy pace for the loop I was still finding it a novelty to stand and wait with patience, deciding what food or drink to have, while Val and Gillian handed me what I had chosen, in previous years I’d leave instructions for what I’d want next time round and if it wasn’t ready when I arrived I’d flounce off with a petulant “I’ll get it next time!” which on a 4 mile loop is not wise, and not for the first time my support had to hoof up to the top of the hill at the end of the Hayfield with what I was wanting. No diva dramatics this year, I was very well behaved. 

I picked up my head-torch and was hoping for a beautiful sunset on Loch Morlich but it wasn’t to be, just a wee hint of pink as the sky slowly turned black With no inclining of any natural light at all, just heavy clouds, the stars were not up for their usual spectacular light show, but I suppose that makes them all the more special when they do.

Not to worry, I was still moving forward and had given myself permission that I didn’t have to run at all in the dark, just keep a good march, I’d picked up my iPod for the dark hours and it was playing my Run Forever playlist, just in one ear, I’m not anti-social. The loop was a lot quieter after the 12 hour race finished, but I was still tootling on.  It was at the back of 2.00am, I was on my 13th lap, happy to be still moving well and within myself, singing along to my tunes. John and Donald were on their shift at the halfway water station and John commented that I was a happy wee soul and I replied that this was my 1000 mile lap. “Well that deserves a wee celebration! Do you have a cup?” He asked. I didn’t have one on the table because I just carried a wee bottle every lap. Luckily this lap my wee bottle has Active Root in it, John added a generous Bunnahabhain, I’m calling this cocktail the Glenmore Whisky Mac. I took my time with it, savouring every mouthful with a smile. 

Photo from John Munro 

Once I was back round in the Hayfield I celebrated with another wee sit down and dunked a roll in a cup of soup before strolling out back on the loop, still smiling, although aware that after reaching my goal, a high is usually followed by a low and expected a wee slump, but it never really happened, I wasn’t falling asleep on my feet and my stomach wasn’t rebelling,  I just felt a bit weary but that is perfectly normal for 4.00am in a 24 hour race. I wasn’t expecting any weird visions either but I thought I saw someone standing still at the side of the path,were my eyes playing tricks? Then they turned round, it was the Grim Reaper! “Ha ha ha, Hiya Donald!” 

I’m not sure when the rain became heavy, it was dark, I put my big jacket on, it wasn’t cold but I like to be dry and cosy, I eventually pulled on my waterproof cut-off breeks when the rain fluctuated between torrential and pishin’ doon, they’re not the bonniest of running apparel but extremely functional, I can pull them on and off without a faff and they keep my quads dry and warm. Big puddles were forming on the route, I was dodging around them but my feet were wet, I could feel a couple of blisters forming on the edge of my heels, probably from doing more walking than I’m used to. Although I didn’t say it out loud I now wondered if I would reach 70 miles,  I was watching for the sky to show signs of the dawn, and when it did, the clouds showed no sign of lifting, even though the rain did ease from time to time. I had one more sit down to eat a pot of porridge. 

Time was now marching as well as I was, I wondered how many more big loops I’ll do. I was happy to slow down, my target reached with a fairly big bonus. It was just a matter of timing it nicely for a few wee laps, I didn’t want to finish a big loop before 11.00am  and have to wait for the wee laps to open and as much as they’re great fun I didn’t want to do a full hour on them, that hill is a nasty climb and a steeper descent. Well done to anyone that manages 4 miles on it, it’s tough going. I eased right back to practically a stroll, completing 18 laps, one more big loop will do. I was standing with Val and Gillian in the Hayfield, it was nearly 9.30am, I realised that even at a very gentle stroll, I’d still have a full hour on the wee laps, serious discussion ensued. Would I have time for two more big loops? Val’s answer was decisive. “Yes, but you’ll have to pick it up!”  I’ve just walked since it was dark, would I manage to run again? Fuck it! Let’s go! 

Once out of Hayfield and down the narrow path, round the right turn, I attempted a wee shuffle, Yay! My legs felt mildly spritely and even better, the blisters on my heels preferred a different gait with less of a heel strike. I pushed a decent effort, and with that effort I was roasting with my big jacket on, although it was still raining, my sleeves were pushed up and my hood down, I was smiling that I was giving it laldy at last!  I was back round to the Hayfield in an hour, I dropped my waterproof breeks, kicked them off, and threw them and my jacket at Val and Gillian, swapped my water bottle and was off on my final lap. I maintained the effort I started an hour ago although I didn’t have to panic, I wouldn’t be skidding into the Hayfield with seconds to spare, I just breathed deep and waved cheerio to my favourite bits. 

I was back in the Hayfield with half an hour to go, of course I kept the momentum going! I was warned about the slippy wet grass on the hill but the safest way to come down a steep, wet, grassy hill in road shoes is to keep up with gravity, if you put the brakes on you’re guaranteed to slide on your arse. Bill was on the hill shouting “Slow down ya nutter!” But where’s the fun in that?

photo from Donna Wallace

One wee ouchy, the blister along the edge of my right heel exploded when I was keeping up with gravity, minor detail, I was nearly finished. I tried to keep the momentum of the speed I’d pick up on the descent for as long as possible before having to put my hands on my thighs and stomp up the hill, shout my number to Brian and wheeeee down the hill again, I’d check my watch, do another lap, check my watch, think my watch was broken, I was working hard but knew I’d be stopping soon. The support round the wee loop is second to none, you have to give your best. The hooter sounded and I stopped. Ooyah beastie! 82.75 miles! No way did I ever think I’d manage that a week post covid.

photo from Gillian

It’s now a week after the race and I’m still resting, I don’t feel overly fatigued, my heels are still tender, I promised Sean I would rest and I still am, covid has devastated so many lives. I’m happy not to run for a few weeks to make sure I’m not left with any lasting damage.  

The race team was also hit by covid making harder work and longer shifts for the marshals there, but from a runner’s point of view, there was nothing amiss. Bill and team you were marvellous, thank you all so much, Val and Gillian, thank you both again for supporting me once more, and to everyone there, whether running or supporting, you are all part of the magic that happens at Glenmore, it has been privilege to run many more laps and an honour to be the first to reach 1000 miles, I doubt I’ll be the last.  

Here’s my Glenmore statistics, 

A grand total of 1031.41 miles, 252 laps and 21.41 miles on the wee lap.  

2011  108 miles, there were no wee laps for the first year 

2012  109.01 miles, 1st Female

2013  25.45 miles, a 6 hour special just for me post cancer treatment

2014  89.56 miles 

2015  107.35 miles

2016  103.26 miles

2017  102.04 miles 

2018  102.61 miles

2019  103.36 miles 

2021  98.02 miles

2022  82.75 miles 

Sweet Sixteen - West Highland Way Race 2022

My training has gone well, I have even managed to dodge Covid. After a couple of years of just ticking over more or less on my tod I’m glad to get back to races, both running and marshalling, I had a consistently paced run at the Falkirk 33 miler in February and surprising myself with good runs at the Sri Chinmoy 50km at Perth in April and covering over 61 miles at the inaugural Formartine & Buchan Railway 12 hour in May. The only thing I would’ve loved to have managed, was more running on the West Highland Way. As much as I know the route well, I felt out of practice on the terrain. Also I haven’t done anything to hone my TTFU skills since the last West Highland Way Race. Nothing else comes close to the toughness of it. 

Sue was celebrating her 60th birthday by running the race this year too, so my support crew was decimated, she was keeping Ken too! But we worked together building new teams for us both with a mix of experience and newbies. I was having Pauline and Val at the start, they would hand over to Ally and Donna in Crianlarich as Val had to leave, having a family commitment in Hawick Saturday evening, Pauline would continue with Ally and Donna. 

By Thursday, all my lists were ticked and gear gathered. Friday is a long day, with a few wee food preps, rechecking my tick lists and pretending to sleep until Val and Pauline picked me up at 9.00pm, destination Milngavie. 

 Pauline is still very covid apprehensive and isn’t too comfortable in busy places, so only Val came in with me to register, we wore our masks as requested, but we timed it nicely, it was very quiet. Back at the car I did a bit of pre-race faffing before tipping the seat back, closing my eyes and waiting until there was around half an hour before the start to organise last minute faffs and headed over for the race briefing, afterwards Pauline and Val went up the tunnel to find a nice spot to cheer everyone on. I found Sue and we would start together, although we’re similar paced and train together we put no pressure on ourselves to wait for each other, we’d be running our own race and it would be a bonus if we managed to be side by side at times.

1.00am WOOOOHOOOO! Finally, after a three year wait, we were off! I focus on the steps after the tunnel so I don’t trip, scan the faces in the crowd so I can wave to everyone I know, this is really happening! We really are on our way! Head torch on as we turn down at the West Highland Way Obelisk and into Mugdock Park. It’s busy; there’s chatter and brilliant to see folk I knew would be running but hadn’t had a chance to say hello to before the start. I kept it nice and easy, it is a runnable path but there are bobbles and boulders that can catch you unawares, I have had quite a few friends whose race has ended here before it really started. 

Sue and I were together going by the Carbeth huts, I said “Aw, wasn’t that lovely!” Sue replied “I'm glad you saw them too, it’s too early for hallucinations!”. Folk were standing out in their jammies at around 2.00am to cheer us on. I had to remind myself to take my shoulders out of my ears, try and relax, watch my feet and settle down. Once on the road towards Gartness watching the flitting bats and listening to a hooting owl and a calling cuckoo, I did begin to settle down. At the top of the field in Drymen, I passed my head torch and spare one to Pauline and Val, it wasn’t quite dawn but light enough to see where I was putting my feet, I picked up a fresh water bottle and squeezy pouch of custard from them and head up towards Conic hill. I was on my own, relaxing into the challenge ahead, taking in my surroundings and watching for the sunrise as I climbed. 

Once over the top and descending the wooden steps, (they have really suffered from erosion) I watch my footing as I phone Val to say I’m on my way so they can have my porridge and mug of tea ready for my arrival. I dib my dobber and head towards my crew, Pauline walks with me carrying my mug of tea as I shovel in the porridge, then swap the empty tub for the mug and try not to drown in tea as I stride towards to the stone steps up to Craigie Fort, I give Pauline the mug, wipe the tea slavering off my chin and head up. We were using my 2019 splits as a guide, I was told I was a little down on them but it’s fine. I always enjoy the trail to Rowardennan, and I do again, the climbs and descents through the woods, the birds in full song, I had the bonus of Sue’s company for some of it too. 

Although my feet feel fine, at Rowardennan I have a sock change, it’s pre-emptive, Pauline flosses between my toes with a wet wipe, covers them in Body Glide while I spoon in a thick and creamy rice pudding between the squirms and squeals Pauline delights in giving me. 

As I get up to leave Pauline reminds me Val is standing down and will be heading home after handing over all my gear to Ally and Donna, I won’t see her again. I’m shocked at my remiss, I give Val a hug of apology and thanks as she sends me on my way. 

Sue has also had a sock change and we’re back together heading along the lochside, I’m now stressing the Beinglas cut-off. I didn’t feel like I was going slower than usual but I was half an hour down for Rowardennan. The low road is lovely, a promise of the more technical section ahead but still fairly slow going with acute climbs and descents, there is a staircase with a handrail and a steep stoney descent that would benefit from having one! I usually enjoy the change of terrain, my short stecky legs get a stretch and rest from running. 

We push a good effort along to Inversnaid where we don’t hang about, I top up my water bottle, take the stuff from my drop bag and hoof on. Not long out of Inversnaid I laugh out loud at an abandoned Unicorn inflatable, normally I wouldn’t pass up the chance to sit in it for a giggle but we don’t have time for any fun and we push on some more. 

Glad to see Yan have fun! 

We caught up with Karl, he’d just had a wee slip at the bottom of the giant stone steps, he was fine, lucky it wasn’t at the top! We were with him for a wee while but pushed on as we got closer to the end of the technical part. Yay! Glad to get that done with no mishaps, I encourage my running legs back into action and shuffle the flat grassy bit. Sue and I are still together both of us feeling we’re working harder than we’d really like, I’m mulling over the possibility of not having time to pause and share a dram with Dario, I’m sure he’d forgive me and would be as pissed off as I would be if I was timed out at Beinglas. I don’t doubt my ability to reach Fort William well within 35 hours despite being so close to the early cut off times. If working too hard at this point scuppered my usual long race tactic of staying consistent throughout, I consoled myself with the thought that I would have plenty of time just to walk all the way from Auchtertyre if necessary. The cut offs get more generous as the race continues. I was looking for a positive, laughed and said to Sue, “I wonder if this effort now will give me a decent hallucination later!” So far I have failed miserably in that department. As we climb to Dario’s post we do have time to pause and I bring out my hip-flask and share a wee Talisker with Dario, Sue has brought her own this year too and shares her sloe gin, I smile at the thought of Dario getting a wee bit squiffy mixing his drinks. 

It’s mostly runnable down to Beinglas and we do, dibbing in with 28 minutes to spare. I feel that that was as close as I’d like to make it, and breathe a sigh of relief. 

John has coffee and Sue has one, I just inhale the aroma, that’s not cheating is it? I’ve abstained for a month and I’m saving my first coffee hit for Bridge of Orchy. We pick up the delights in our drop bags and walk on. Sue suggests we take it easy for a few miles to regroup, a good plan, apart from the climb towards Derrydarroch it is quite runnable but we walk a bit, shuffle a bit and let go of the anxiety. The sun was shining, it was pleasantly warm although there have been a few short showers and you didn’t have to be Sean Batty to see they’ll pass over fairly quickly, so my jacket stays packed. I relax and just enjoy where I am and what I’m doing. 

Coo Poo Alley No More! There have been a fair few changes on the route over the years, and I won’t be reminiscing the lack of shite, the path has even had a bit of maintenance and almost feels like a carpet under my feet. 

Photo from a solo training run a good few years ago, and yes they got out of my way!

Up into the rollercoaster Sue has pulled ahead slightly and is just out of sight but I heard her being greeted with cheery voices from round the bend. Debbie and Karen’s happy, smiley faces run towards me, they stop, hug me then tell me not to stop!! A lovely wee boost to see elite runners support us shufflers…but that’s Scottish ultra for you! The rollercoaster has a final swoop down to the road, Sue and I are together again and we cross without having to pause for traffic. Yay! Bonus! We shuffle along waving to support crews leaving Auchtertyre, I'm smiling, looking forward to seeing Ally and Donna, I haven’t seen them since last year! 

Ally is waiting for me just ahead of the checkpoint, I’m greeted with a hug and we head into Auchtertyre where there’s someone else I’ve been looking forward to seeing and I have a huge big squishy cuddle with Robin. 

Ally leads me to the van where I’m having soup and new shoes, (not totally brand new, I’ve had two runs in them, both on the WHW, a 15 miler and a 24 miler so they should see me all the way to the finish) Pauline and Ally set about my feet while Donna hands me my mug of soup. Hmmm! It’s the wrong soup! Pauline soon lets me know that on my Diva Demand sheet it wasn’t specified which soup! Fair enough, that’s true, I didn’t write chicken and noodle but the leek and potato was nice anyway.

Pauline held my hoof between her knees like a farrier and set about my toes with a wet wipe, Lorna laughing told me to keep the noise down, someone is trying to sleep! Finally the squeal and squirm fest is finished, and I put my new shoes on, I also put on another long sleeved top, it’s now around 3.45pm, I’m not cold but it will start to cool down, there’s no point waiting until then to start to layer up. I’m having company all the way to the finish now and Donna is coming with me to Bridge of Orchy (plot spoiler) Sue has left Auchtertyre before me and is having a fantastic run, I don’t see her again until Fort William! 

It’s great to catch up with Donna and we chat along to Tyndrum where Ally sees us safely over the road,

the wind is picking up and the showers are increasing so it’s time to get my jacket on. We make fine progress to Bridge of Orchy, I’m guided over the road by a marshal, Pauline and Ally have my coffee ready for me at one of the picnic tables in front of the Hotel since no vehicles were allowed down to the checkpoint, there was no point carrying my stuff down, I’ll dib in once I’ve had my rice pudding and walk through with my coffee, Sue had been through around 5 minutes earlier, Steven, who is now supporting Sue with Gail is kind enough to walk up the hill with us to take my mug back once I’d had my coffee. Pauline is coming with me now to Glencoe and my chat can’t be too bad as Donna decides to carry on to Glencoe too. As we climb up the hill and decide I’ll take advantage of the forest facilities and duck into the trees before we’re out in the open. “OOOOWWW!” “Are you ok?” Pauline and Donna ask, “Yeah!” I answer as I touch my cheek, I’ve walked into the broken end of a branch I didn’t see in the murky light. I take more care coming out after my comfort break, I’m told my cheek is bleeding… it did feel quite a dunt! Pauline rummages in my bag for my wee First Aid kit, I find an antiseptic wipe and clean my cheek except it hasn’t stopped bleeding and a wee trickle runs down my face, which gives too much hilarity to Pauline, she tells me “It's fine, I look like Action Man!” and just to leave it alone, and it’s not as bad as Minty! Well, that’s reassuring! (A few years ago Minty gave himself a sair yin, quite a serious head wound and possible concussion and when race medics heard about him, they wanted him pulled out at Lundavra for his own safety, luckily for Minty, the message never got relayed as there’s no signal at the checkpoint so he blithely carried on to pick up his goblet!) Oh, and of course, while I’m having this palaver, Stephen has stopped to chat, he’s been scampering around the area cheering on everyone running. It was lovely to see you and next time I see you I hope I’m not so messy! 

Oh well, onwards and upwards, but it isn’t long before I pause again, at least this time for something nice, a jelly baby from Mike, he’s putting in a mega shift in challenging conditions, the weather is deteriorating and isn’t going to improve any time soon. I’m moving well, heading down to Inveroran,

maybe not quite a bouncy scamper but my legs are in great shape for having over 60 miles in them and onto the short section of tarmac, the wind was right in out faces so I tuck in behind Pauline to shelter from the worst of it and have a nice wee run along towards Forest Lodge where sheltered by the trees I pull on my cut-off waterproof breeks, a fashionista would call them capri length but there is absolutely nothing fashionable about them, purely practical, they were a long and baggy pair I commandeered from Pete years ago and I can pull them on and off over my shoes without a fight. 

My cut-off breeks - photo from a previous race

We make good progress along Rannoch Moor, Donna hasn’t been here before and is enjoying some pretty impressive scenery, (having grown up in Elgol, Skye, she has a discerning eye.) Pauline and I entertain Donna regaling a few of our old race tales, with 25 goblets between us we do have a few wee stories to tell. Peter Flemings Memorial Cairn signals the top, I climb strong and steady, the terrain levels and heads round and down, we can see the Glencoe checkpoint, on getting closer Donna scampers off to ready my Diva Demands, I have a bag of clothes labelled “Glencoe” it contains fresh sock, winter tights and my blue fleece, it’s been a tradition for me to wear it from here since my PB in 2007. 

I dib in and it’s now compulsory to wear full body waterproofs. Yep! That’s the plan! But I’m the lucky one, I get to move on from here, the marshals have a long tough shift looking after us in what are now very challenging conditions. In the back of the van, I take my shoes off, pull on the winter tights over the ones I’ve been wearing from the start, I check that the two long-sleeved tops, club vest and arm warmers that I’m wearing are still dry then pull my fleece over the lot of them. Pauline does my feet for the last time, she is so kind and doesn’t floss between my toes, maybe more to do with my complaining that with the floor of the van being wet and mucky I’m having to hold one clean foot up, while leaning back so her arse isn’t my face while trying to eat a Tiramisu, I don’t really need a core and quad work out right now! Yay, Pauline has finished my feet, I can rest my legs and tummy muscles, pull on my full length waterproof breeks, have a few mouthfuls from my mug of tea, before getting my jacket back on and a fresh pair of dry gloves. Ally is ready to go with me and Pauline walks us out while waiting to take my mug when I’ve drunk enough tea. All this took half an hour, my longest stop during the race, actually it's the longest I’ve stopped during all my WHW races, but I wasn’t stressing, I’m not racing, I’m enjoying. 

Ally and I take it easy walking down the hill but my legs feel fine and haven’t stiffened up, so we soon get into our stride, at Kingshouse I call into the toilet, I might as well take advantage of proper facilities (without the risk of a poke in the eye) especially as I had a million layers on, I’d struggle to get them comfy again lurking behind a bush in the wind and rain. Hoods up, torches on, we march across the rough path that pointlessly climbs just to come back down, a sweeper catches up up, we blether away, I know the voice but it would be rude to stick my torch in his face, but it isn’t long before we identify each other, “Of course it’s you Kristian!” At Altnafeadh Pauline and Donna have a mug of soup and roll ready for me, the roll is cut into slices so it’s easy to dunk. I just stand and enjoy it before heading up the Devil’s Staircase. Ooft! My tummy is full and this feels like hard work now. I don’t push it, just keep it nice and easy, breathing deep and even, slow is good when you're moving in the right direction, a few others catch up and we had a nice steady group with Ally leading the way to the top. Once over the top, I still breathe deeply to gather myself and give my legs the chance to recover from the climb. I’m pleased they move well, feel strong and supple, I don’t have any problem placing my feet where I want them to go and we gradually pull away from the others. My stomach is a bit iffy, I have a few dry heaves, Ally knows I’m having a low point, he doesn’t speak and just lets me work through it, leading me along the tough terrain in the dark. Once on the wide track that descends steeply into Kinlochleven, I can’t say I’ve perked up but I remember how horrible and hard I’ve found this part in the past. It has been never ending with concrete quads jarring every step or blisters burning and bashing my shoes, these memories make me feel loads better. We have a good march down and find our way to the community centre. I blink in the bright lights, dib my dobber, receive a hug from Julie, then do something I have never done before in Julie’s checkpoint, I sit down, and eat a pot of porridge, no rush, I enjoy a wee blether with Gail, she escorted Sue along Rannoch Moor and Steven would now be with Sue all the way to the finish. Before I leave, I visit the toilet, and laugh out loud when I see my face in the mirror, I’d forgotten about my “Action Man scar.” A lovely lady also in the loos at the same time looked at me and said “Let me help clean you up.” I thank her and say it’s ok, I’m fine but she insisted and caringly wiped away the dried in smear of blood I’ve had on my chops for the last 20 miles! Thank you Anne for being so caring. 

Another half an hour spent in a checkpoint and I’m liking this new leisurely attitude I’m having, I don’t feel like I have to get this over with, the time on my watch will have no relevance to my sense of achievement. The weather has been epic which will add to my memories to cherish, I still have around 15 miles to go, I’m smiling to myself, who knew type 1 fun could be a thing at Kinlochleven. But I suppose we better get going and it’s light enough not to need head torches when Ally and I leave. Another slow and steady climb up onto the Lairig Mor, I feel the porridge has settled my stomach. For the first time since being treated for mouth cancer in 2013 I have managed to get enough fuel in to keep me moving well. Although everyone can have difficulty eating during a long ultra but with me not having a fully functioning mouth adds to the challenge, there’s only so much milkshake I can swallow before it triggers my gag reflex. I feel the game changer for me was Active Root Gel, (I’ve never been a big fan of gels, I wouldn’t have any at all in a big ultra maybe two or three during a marathon but that’s all I’d use them for). A couple of weeks ago I’d bought two different flavours and two of the gel pouches, it was a bit of a gamble, I just had a couple of short runs to try them out, I wasn’t sure if my mouth would tolerate the heat of the ginger, six weeks of radiotherapy in my gob has left it extremely sensitive, but I’m not complaining, I’m nine years alive and cancer free. Every checkpoint I’d swap the pouches alternating the flavour between the cacao, peppermint and ginger which was easier on my mouth and the original ginger which was a wee bit hot for me but the aftertaste was like cuddling a hot water bottle during the second dark, cold, wet night

While I’m mentioning what worked well for me, my favourite bit of kit for the second night was the gloves I put on at Glencoe, hand knitted by yours truly in DK with a mix of acrylic and pure wool (soft enough to wipe your nose and stays warm when wet with rain and snotters) There’s nothing nicer than having roasty toasty hands when there’s weather!

Lairig Mor is a lovely scamper with fresh legs but the terrain is too rough when there’s 80 miles in them, there wasn’t any running happening. But with being better fuelled, my legs were still strong and supple, I had a fine march with a good cadence, I was even sprightly enough to have an occasional jump or stride over the wee burns flowing across the track. I can’t remember when it stopped raining, I think it just very gradually eased off to nothing and I eventually put my hood down. 

At Lundavra I was handed my mug of hot chocolate, coffee combo, that’s been another staple for a good few years, both Pauline and Donna were rejoining me, and Ally would drive round to the Nevis Centre. Between the combination of the hot drink, working the final leg, and the morning warming up, I soon stuffed my gloves in my pocket, then my woolly hat got stuffed somewhere, I’m finally breaking sweat, I sit on a boulder and Donna fights my waterproof breeks off for me, they’re stuffed in my bag, a short time later, I’m still roasting and my jacket comes off too, I eventually push my sleeves up but keep the rest of my clothes on. Just as well, my backpack is stappit, (I should stop showing my age and call it a race vest, but for me a race vest is a singlet in club colours!) 

What was once the spooky woods before it was turned into a devastation of tree stumps and broken branches, is now a meandering path through green shrubbery, nature is doing a grand job but I much preferred when you couldn’t see the final climb up to the fire break! Yay! The last haul down to Braveheart, I try a wee run but I feel smoother and more energy efficient with a long strided march. That does the job, and when the gradient eases I stick in a few wee runs. 

At Braveheart, Pauline and Donna shoot off to the finish to get the camera ready, I giggle when Pauline looks behind, I am running, and as much as I’d like to chase them in, just to make them panic  They will get there before me, and Donna knows a short cut. I’m left to my own thoughts for the final mile, how lucky am I? 

I glance at the old finish on the way past but push on, following the little bits of tape marking the route, and come round the corner at the station “Oofft! There’s a horde of old people taking up the whole pavement, I envisage a ten pin bowling strike, then think that that would be very rude of me and veer round them with my pointy right elbow giving them a bawhair’s width of clearance! 

Steven is standing just past them and leads me round the final jinks and points me across the car park,

photos from Ken

I high five my way to the side door of the centre and in, my arms raised and I let out a shriek akin to the one I’d given at the start. I’m finished. I head towards Ian but some guy hassles me for my dibber, hang on, it’s tucked in all my layers, here you go. I’m hugged to pieces and eventually stop my watch too. I’m handed a marvellous cup of tea and slowly my achievement starts to sink in. 

Sue gives us the heads up that the showers are freezing, so we head to the Leisure Centre and for a small fee have a wonderfully long hot shower. I check my feet and only have three wee blisters to show for my efforts! 

After breakfast we head to the prize giving but don’t go in, we stand outside near the side door and watch from there, a compromise Pauline is happy with, I enter when it’s near my time to be presented with my 16th goblet. Sorry if I was a wee bit rabbit in headlights, my achievement is taking a while to sink in. 

Neil and I have 32 Goblets between us.

I may be the custodian of 16 goblets but there are many that can hold a hand to them. Everyone that has supported me over the years, pandering to my Diva demands and running with me, every marshal that’s spent hours in Scottish weather, keeping us safe and accounted for, those that do the mountain of work getting the logistics of the race in place, and a special thank you to whoever has the stressful job of picking up the crystal goblets from Glencairn and driving them safely to Fort William! Finally a heartfelt thank you to Val for the early shift and Donna and Ally joining Pauline for the second half, sorry Ally you had my company when my chat was rubbish. One more thing Ally, if we’re both lucky enough to have the health and fitness to stand on the start line next year, Donna is mine, she’s a wee star, you can find your own support!

The Gathering of Awesomeness

The Young Hearts Run Free podcast lads weren’t wrong when they billed the Anglo-Celtic Plate and open Sri Chimnoy 100km and 50km being held on the Inches, Perth as The Gathering of Awesomeness.

Although it’s been a fair while since I’ve run at Perth, I’m no stranger to the Inches. I’ve previously run two 24 hour races in 2008 and 2009, I did the 100km in 2016 and the 50km in 2019, I was looking forward to doing another 21 laps of the loop that flows round naturally and beautifully measured at around a mile and a half.

Pauline needed a bit persuading to come along, she’s a bit reluctant doing “unnecessary” stuff after her brain haemorrhage last year and the pandemic doesn’t encourage her to get out and about much, so I was glad when she said she’d come, especially as she has had six Scottish vests in the Anglo-Celtic Plate, the first being in 1999.  

With the 50km starting at 10.00am, we arrived just before 9.00am, the 100km was well underway, starting at 7.00am.  I laughed at Pauline’s observation as we watched runners go by. “Aren’t ultra runners looking young these days!”  Then she went on to say that while attending a Team GB training camp in Loughborough a “few” years ago the young track and field athletes were curious about who the "old people" were, the youngsters were informed “That’s the Ultra Squad!”  

I set my wee table up at the Carnegie tent then went to register, it was lovely to see pals I haven’t seen in ages! Are hugs allowed yet? I refrained from hugging, except for Ruth, it’s not a Scottish Ultra unless you're enveloped in a Ruth hug, it was wonderful! 

Adrian gave a briefing and the 50km runners were lined up on the left side of start/finish line, the path was coned down the middle for around quarter of a mile to the floodgates, we were to stay on the left hand side until we merged into the race with the 100km runners just like joining a motorway, I think I’ll keep well left, I won’t be getting up to their speed!

I’d lost count of what lap I was on by around the third lap, never mind, it was just a perfect day, the sun was shining, it wasn’t windy and a sheer joy running with buddies I haven’t seen for a long time. Also the beauty of a looped course is that you get run with the fast folk, usually I only see them on the start line and then they’re off, never to be seen again. 

Pauline's photo

Many of the elite runners were wearing the super-duper bouncy shwanks (more YHRF terminology). A thought made me smile. “Why do these flying shoes sound like John Deere tractors?” I don't mean to knock their zoomy shoes, and going by the amount of times I was lapped there must be something in their hype, that and the runners natural ability and a shedload of dedicated training! The bonus of hearing them approaching from a good way off was I was able to move to my left in plenty time to let them go by on the inside, apart from Jo, she’d didn’t hoof past sounding like a galloping carthorse but I knew she was approaching by her cheery shouts of encouragement, also Martin B’s whoop whoops signalled he would be whooshing by.

I took my camera round a couple of laps and Pauline snapped away for the rest of the day.  I was revelling in just being here, just running and enjoying the company I was keeping. 

I felt quite comfortable and glanced at my watch, it suggested I was going faster than I had expected. I put that down to the excitement of being where I was, I didn’t worry, I would settle down to my usual happy plodding pace soon.  As the miles ticked over I was quite surprised that I didn’t slow down, I didn’t feel like I was pushing the pace, I was just cruising comfortably, so be it, I always run to feel, not the watch. At around 21 miles I felt my legs were locked into their stride and cadence and I now needed to put in a bit of effort to maintain but I was being sucked along in the slipstream of awesomeness and the words of camaraderie exchanged, it wasn’t hard. 

photo from Steve Adam

The support around the Inches was fantastic from everyone involved with the race, fellow runners just here to watch and passers-by just out for fresh air.

One old boy reminded me of Captain Tom, leaning on his wheeled walking aid near the Bell’s Sports Centre, his voice was a bit frail so I never caught what he was saying but with a wave and a nod he was encouraging, I smiled and waved back every lap I saw him, it touched my heart that he must have stood there cheering us on for around an hour. 

After another couple of miles I felt that the remaining 8 miles was going to be a big effort, I know what will make it easier!  I’ll work out what lap I’m on and count down laps, there’s less of them! I’m rubbish at arithmetic while running and by the time I’d sussed it I had just under 5 laps to go, that sounds better! 

The wind picked up, it was strong enough to blow the cones over from the Memorial along to the end of the lap, at least it was hitting us sideways, the incentive not to slow down was even greater now the weather was deteriorating, rain was threatening and I’m not a fan of being wet and cold. I increased my work rate and continued to count down the laps.  I approached  the lap counters for what I hoped was the end of my penultimate lap, I raised a finger asking “Have I one more lap?”  No one could answer me but as I went through the inflated arch, Ken didn’t look up from tapping on his phone and quietly said “One more lap!”  Yaay! What a relief! I threw Pauline my bottle belt, put my elbows into gear, breathed deep and pushed the last lap finishing in 5.06.13 hours. 

I was really pleased with that! I expected to finish under six hours but hopefully closer to around five and half. While I’m talking stats, my first 50km was the Speyside Way 50km organised by Don Ritchie in 1999. Not all cherished running mementos are blingy medals. 

Since then I’ve done eighteen 50km races, ten of them on hilly trails where you can’t really compare times. Of the eight road races they’ve all been on a lapped course, six at Glenrothes and two at Perth, with my times ranging from 5.23.43 in 2001 to my PB of 4.31.57 in 2003 and the rest either just before or just after five hours. So although I’ve never had a great turn of speed I’ve had over twenty years of consistent 50km running, I’m calling that a win!  After finishing on Sunday Martin H. said “I hope I’m still running like that when I’m as old as you!” It was meant as a sincere compliment and I’ll take it that way!  But steady on young lad, I’m not that old, I don’t get my bus pass ‘til August!  

And finally a huge thank you to Adrian and everyone helping him put on such a fantastic event. There’s a lot of hard graft to bring it together, making sure the elite had the chance to perform at  their best, and us lesser mortals got to go home buzzing from rubbing shoulders with them. I know quite a few runners don’t fancy running a lapped race, but I urge you just to go for it, you will love it!