West Highland Way Race 2024

My training this year wasn't quite ideal, since the end of February my left Achilles wasn’t very happy, but I’m not complaining, it’s the first time I’ve had a running related injury since 2011. So with a bit of TLC and KT tape I had cautious runs at my 30th Ladies Only Smokies 10, the 50km at Perth and the inaugural 43 mile Forth Ultra, also a scamper round my 26th Isle of Skye Half. I was glad to see that any of these races didn’t make my tendon any worse. I didn’t do any hill or speed work, my mid week running was supporting the Couch to Carnegie group, (it’s been great to see new runners progress). My long runs were a joy, I did them all on the lower half of the West Highland Way from Milngavie to Inveroran, the shortest being the 12 miles from Milngavie to Drymen at 1.00am with great company, a couple of 26 milers, a solo on a roasty toasty day with a double Conic hill, a double rollercoaster with Neil and a couple of jaunts along the loch side with Sue. As Keith Hughes says, being under-trained trumps over-injured, so I’ll go with what I’ve got and not worry about what I haven’t done. 

I don’t doubt I have one of the most experienced crew, (our involvement with the race goes back to Pauline’s debut in 1997) The plan split them into two shifts with Pauline and Val doing the first half then handing over to Allan, Ken, Sue, Gillian and Jon at Bridge of Orchy on Saturday afternoon. Pauline and Val would then head off to Fort William to our accommodation for a well earned sleep. Neil was parking his brand new fancy pants all electric car (no one else is insured to drive it) in Fort Bill to get the bus down to Glencoe to run all the way to the finish with me. 

Val and Pauline picked me up promptly at 9.00pm Friday evening, the car was packed earlier in the afternoon, so there was no faffing apart from me grabbing a shopping bag and panic shoving an extra jacket, top, etc. into it just before we left. It turned out to be quite handy, not so much the extra stuff but the newly named faffing bag; the next checkpoint requirements were put into it ready and close to hand as the race progressed. 

No faffing at Milngavie, just straight into the hall, register and back to the car to chill, although it did take a wee bit of time having quick catch ups and lovely hugs on the way. 

At 12.40am Ian and Sean did their briefing, and at 1.00am the hooter sounded! Wooohooo! At last, all the waiting is over and the adventure has begun. Careful up the steps and scan all the cheering faces and shouts for Pauline and Val lining the street but there are so many, I miss them. Right turn, head torch on and I laugh at a voice beside me, “Oh no, I hate my watch face, it’s telling me how many miles to go!” 

There is some chatter but I don’t  join in too much, I’m always cautious along Mugdock, there have been a fair few race ending ankle rolls over the years and I don’t want to be one of them. The heavy drizzle highlighted in my head torch felt akin to driving on a motorway at night in a blizzard, which was making seeing where to place my feet a bit difficult. My shoulders were tight, I was stressing the early cut-offs and to stress even more, my legs felt heavy. I take a deep breath, roll my shoulders, concentrate on posture and try to relax, it won’t be too long until it’s light. I was carrying a wee sheet with mini-splits to reassure myself I was hitting roughly the same pace as the last couple of years, but I had mistakenly omitted Drymen (12 miles), and in my panic at that time I thought I was around 10 minutes down (it was closer to 5 minutes), so I pushed a harder effort towards Conic than I felt sensible for this point in the race.

As much as I was pushing I still had to check behind my right shoulder for the sunrise as I climbed Conic and capture a photo.

Descending the new path I daren’t lift my eyes for a glimpse of the view, I was watching like a hawk where I was placing my feet, I’d forgo the view to keep my skull from fracturing.

“You were right Steven!” I had been chatting to John and Steven for the Young Hearts Run Free podcast the previous Thursday and Stephen had likened the new path to crazy paving and it was trippy, not just for the feet but also in a psychedelic hallucinatory way on the eyeballs!  If you want to get yer lugs round our blether, here's the link

I felt I came down successfully, with a relaxed cautious confidence. I didn’t phone ahead as usual, and just relied on the tracker letting Pauline and Val know where I was, but it wasn’t that great, as the signal was a bit patchy and I caught them slightly unaware. They usually wait for me on the path that leads into the car park, but they weren’t there. I dibbed my dobber at the Balmaha checkpoint (19 miles) and carried on through the car park and was beginning to wonder if they were in Balmaha. Finally I saw them, and still in panic mode I kept going and shouted to come with me.  Val firmly shouted back at me “Fiona, take one minute to make sure you have everything you need!”  Mental note to self - Stop being a fanny!  I turned around, picked up my pot of porridge, my water bottle was topped up and Pauline walked with me carrying a mug of tea, until I’d eaten half the porridge and drank most of the tea. I was told to stop panicking, my time was on a par with 2022 and 2023.

I always enjoy the twisty path with the swoops up and down through native woodland from Balmaha to Rowardennan, it's one of my favourite sections. After 19 miles I had started to settle and calm down a little, I also noticed my legs didn’t feel so heavy anymore. I still watched my timings closely and worked a good hard effort but hopefully not one that would put me over the edge.  

Sylvia had taken a tumble, JP was with her when I caught up, she took a few moments to put a plaster on the graze on the palm of her hand, JP and I helped her up, she had bashed her knee and was a bit shaken, but I was glad to see that when we got running again she was moving fine. The three of us stayed together for a bit. It was warming up, the sun made an occasional appearance, my arm warmers were shoved in a pocket, my sleeves pushed up and my peaked Buff fastened onto the straps of my race vest. 

At Rowardennan (27 miles) Pauline and Val were ready for me, I was changing my socks and shoes and I decided to swap my long tights for shorts, if the sun came out it would be quite toasty in the afternoon. I finished off the porridge, while Pauline made me squeal, vigorously flossing between my toes with a wet wipe before applying Body Glide and putting my fresh socks on, I have had horrendous blisters in the past, but not any more, which I put down to the pre-emptive care. I managed to do my shoes myself and picked up a chocolate milkshake, took my bigger water bottle and a wee bottle of Tailwind and headed off along the lochside.

Pauline and Val could now head off for a bit of down-time since I won’t see them again until Auchtertyre (51 miles) they were going round by Callander, it’s a less stressful road to drive with the opportunity to stop for a wee nap and a huge slice of carrot cake and coffee. 

Along the low road there were three lads carrying their bikes up the steep wooden steps, they moved over to let me go past,

I thanked them and went by, it wasn’t much further before the path got easier for cycling and they caught up with me, I looked around and the one at the front shouted for me to to stay where I was, there was no pressure for me to let them go by, they were in no rush and were happy to stay behind me, but as the trail levels and has a few downs around the Rowchoish Bothy I let them go past and a wished them luck for after Inversnaid, they didn’t know the path and I was in two minds whether to let them know what was ahead, ignorance is bliss and all that, so I just forewarned them that there are a few dodgy bits ahead.

I always enjoy the lochside although it’s not the easiest section for short stecky legs, I just go with the flow of the terrain, run when I can, even if it’s just a few strides, and hold onto trees and boulders for the easiest way over the tricky technical bits. I had Sylvia’s company for a lot of the loch side and all of the technical part, David joined us, I was in front but didn't want to hold anyone back so I called over my shoulder for them to just say if they wanted to go by, I laughed at David’s reply “You’re fine, I’ll just follow the master!” I suppose after eight Flings and seventeen West Highland Way Races (and a handful of training runs over the years) there would be something wrong if I couldn’t pick the best route over the rough narrow path but every year there is more erosion and bits have fallen into the loch, there are a few sharp steep drops that won’t be there for much longer. As I tippy-toed along these edges I thought to myself, I’m glad I’m not a big, hefty dude with a huge rucksack in size 12 boots! 

Yay, the flat grassy bit that signals the end of the technical section, time for a wee celebratory shimmy, no major dance moves were actually made, but it was lovely to stride out feeling the pull of meeting an old friend and sharing a wee dram. 

An even bigger Yay! We made the 12 hour cut off at Beinglas (42 miles) in 11 hours 30 minutes. (one minute inside what I did in 2022 and 2023)  Sylvia and I parted here, she was going to have a wee breather, her knee was giving her grief from her fall, our time together along the loch will become another memory to cherish.

I can now ease back, regroup and relax, focusing on enjoying the company I’m keeping and the beautiful route I’m on. If the effort I’ve had to put in to make the Beinglas cut off takes its toll I don’t doubt that my crew, my experience and my determination will get me to Fort William.  Another wee boost, as I settled into enjoying the race was seeing the cheery duo of Debbie and Sharon running towards me, a big hug and a wee blether then we parted company. A second later, I looked back but they were gone. Oh no! How rude of me! I forgot to congratulate Debbie on her podium place in the Spine Summer Sprint, my apologies Debbie.  

When I’m around 50 yards from the crack-yer-heid tunnel, a train passes over so I raise an arm and with a cheesy grin give a big wave. Aw brilliant, a few folk on the train wave back, a happy moment to keep me smiling. Through the tunnel under the A82 and slog up the steep climb onto the path leading to not-coo-poo-alley, I’m very slow heading up, my legs have no oomph, I suppose that’s what happens when you’ve not done any hill work! Not to worry, I can still move well on the flat and the downs. There’s a wee crowd at the big gate at Bogle Glen, David and Alison are supporting Patricia and give me the best news ever! Patricia made Beinglas with 10 seconds to spare! Fan-bloody-tastic!

photo credit - Alison Downey

This day is just getting better as it goes on. I wouldn’t say I made light work of the rollercoaster but I cruised along using gravity to my advantage on the downs and minimum effort on the ups, I even timed crossing the busy road perfectly as I didn’t have to wait on traffic going by.

I arrived in Auchtertyre (51 miles) to a big hug from Robin, dib my dobber at the checkpoint, Val led me to the car with the words, “Right Fiona, you are going to have to take your time, while we work on a plan.” My heart skipped a few beats as I listened to what was unfolding. There had been a fatal crash near Glencoe and the road was closed, the race is still going ahead with monumental efforts from the race team and crews jumped into helping where they could. Support crews would have to take a huge detour and drive round the Oban road and runners wouldn’t see their team in Glencoe. 

On my plan for Auchtertyre was a sock and shoe change while having a bowl of chicken soup, I also decided to go back to long tights, might as well do it here since my shoes were off. I just sat quietly with my feet up spooning in my soup, not concerned about how long it needed to sort a plan B, I was grateful the race was still going ahead, but felt close to tears and guilty that while I was having a wonderful adventure, a family will be hearing the devastating news that their loved one will never be coming home. 

Logistics were now in place with Sue taking on a long support section from Victoria Bridge. It was good to move forward again after what turned out to be my longest stop during all my West Highland Way races. I have never been a checkpoint faffer, but the time taken in Auchtertyre was not important and totally irrelevant really in comparison to the ongoing tragedy. 

I had Val for company, and it was lovely to chat without having it restricted to just my Checkpoint Diva Demands. When we reached Tyndrum it was a surprise to see Neil. I thought he was stranded on the bus heading down from Fort William, but the road was closed before he got that far. It was great to see that Ken, Sue, Gillian, Jon and Allan had arrived safely too.  

After cleaning my teeth and picking up a pouch of baby food Pauline changed with Val to keep me company to Bridge of Orchy. Neil set off for the long drive round by Oban taking some of my stuff with him.

The rest of the crew drove along to Bridge of Orchy as there was still access up that far, before they would have to head back down to Tyndrum to go round the Oban road after seeing me through. With Pauline’s company we were fine and steady, a good striding walk on the inclines and gentle running on the downs and flats. Over halfway and everything felt good, no problems with my feet or eating and now settled into my run forever pace we tootled onward taking photos and enjoying where we were and what we were doing. Pauline was using the bum-bag that she bought for her debut West Highland Way Race in 1997, it has been well used since then, and still going strong. Aye, kit was built to last back in the olden days!  

The breeze was cooling so I pulled my sleeves down and decided to put my arm warmers back on too, I pulled them out of the pocket I had shoved them after Balmaha, I gave the crumpled bundle a shake, oops, I’ve only got one? I turned round and in the only puddle on the track floated my wayward arm warmer.  Aw bahookies! I fished it out, shook some of the water from it, and put it on, I’m sure the mud will rub off once it’s dry!  At least it gave Pauline a giggle! We head through the gate and under the railway line and down to the road, a car drove by heading south! Oww? I ask Gordon, in hi-vis supervising the road crossing, “Is the road open now?” He answers “Yes!” Relief! My crew are saved driving the huge diversion and I’ll get to see them in Glencoe.

Into the checkpoint and with all the changes I’d forgotten to look forward to my first mug of coffee in four weeks! It is usually a good pull along to Bridge of Orchy (61 miles) 

I have a rice pudding and say goodbye to Val and Pauline, they can head to our accommodation in  Fort William, looking forward to a shower, a microwave meal, a bottle of wine and a well earned cosy bed, thank you both so much for getting me to Bridge of Orchy and slapping down my Balmaha strop. 

Allan came with me up over Jelly Baby Hill, Ken accompanied us up the hill for a bit while I sipped away at my coffee until I had had enough and handed him my mug to take back down. Don't tell anyone, but Mike gave me a Vimto jelly baby as well as a normal one! Over the top, I let gravity pull me down and my legs kept up, although sore, moving the best I think I’ve managed on the descent to Inveroran, onto the short road section, Allan and I move well round to Victoria Bridge, my crew are waiting, the weather is deteriorating, I slip on my cut-off water-proof breeks, no fashion accessory, they look bloody awful, but my quads are instantly warmer.

Sue is ready to come with me over Rannoch Moor.  It was great to see Llinos cheering and offering support as we went by her home. Further up the Moor, I had to take a comfort break, the midges hadn’t bothered me too much up until now, but ooyah beastie, I was as quick as possible but they took advantage of exposed bare flesh, I rubbed my itchy face, that has been savaged too! Sue and I moved fluidly, letting the gradient dictate between marching and running. As we climbed we caught up with Iain Ross, he had perched his bum on the wall of a bridge, taking the weight off his feet for a brief moment of relief, he was on his own so it was natural that we kept him with us and chatting,

his tale of woe put him on the podium for the most unlucky WHW runner category for this year. His driver had broken his ankle days before the race and wouldn’t manage, thankfully after a plea for help, Iain Paul volunteered to drive and look after him within 24 hours of the race starting, then he found out at around Bridge of Orchy that due to family illness his support runner wouldn’t make it, he was talking about DNF.  “Err, you might be tired and sore but you’re moving well, you can’t drop out after coming all this way!” Iain had never been on the majestic route before, so we pointed out the mighty Buachaille Etive Mor, but we could have been pointing at anything, the view was  hidden in clouds at that moment. We dibbed in at Glencoe (71 miles). It was around 11pm  with deteriorating weather, race rules insist that no one should be on their own for safety reasons. Iain started telling the marshals of his predicament, but I quickly butted in and said to Matt, “It’s ok, we’ve adopted him!”  

It was luxury to have my crew here, I sat in the chair eating warmed mac ‘n’ cheese while Ken did my final sock and shoe change, my feet were in great shape, I could see a wee blister on the side of my left big toe, Ken was far more gentle than Pauline but when I mention the top of my left index toe was tender, he gave it a good prodding inquiring “What, this one?” Ha, ha, ha, yes, he must have had a bit of tutoring from Pauline after all! I was geared up now with full waterproof breeks and under my rain jacket, my blue fleece (it’s been a tradition for me to wear it every year for going over the Devil’s Staircase since my PB in 2007)

Sue was taking a wee breather, Gillian and Jon would see Iain and I along the 4 miles to Altnafeadh, they got the short straw weather wise, it was wild, wet and blustery, the wind was gusting all directions and making me stagger across the rocky wet pointless path, it climbs up away from the road just to come back down onto it with the roughest underfoot conditions of the whole West Highland Way! It’s hard work battling those conditions when you’re around eight stone in yer big coat! 

At the bottom of the Devil, I have a mug of Mocha coffee to try and give me a boost up, we’ve been moving forward relentlessly for 24 hours now and anything that might help perk me up is worth having. I was very slow going up, Sue was back, leading the way for Iain and myself, and for the only time during the race I felt my Achilles tight, Bonus! That was something to smile about!  

At the top there were a couple of very encouraging and enthusiastic marshals, it takes a very special person to volunteer for that post!  Thank you both for your contagious cheeriness. Once over the climb I was glad to feel my legs were still supple and moving well with gravity to assist. We are still quite high when we first see the twinkly lights of Kinlochleven down at sea level, they look deceptively close but the track meanders round and down and the sky lightens for the second time during the race. I think the chat from Iain and myself was a bit rubbish, (non existent) Sue did a marvellous job of leading the way, pointing a hand torch behind her at times for us to follow and filled the silence by singing beautifully. 

Kinlochleven (81 miles)  A huge hug from Julie, a visit to a proper toilet, and at last after all the driving and waiting, Neil is ready to run. Sue says she’ll keep going too. I do the Mum thing and quiz Neil on if he has enough clothes, I just see one long-sleeved top and t-shirt. I'm reassured he’s carrying more, ok, maybe it’s just me that needs five layers plus my arm-warmers on!  Although I must admit to feeling very warm in the community centre and since my porridge is ready it’s time to leave and walk with it.  “Oh, what about Iain?” I’m reassured that as it’s daylight, Iain doesn’t have to stay with us if he doesn’t want to, he’s free to go when he’s ready and we don’t have to wait.  We pass his van as we leave, but I don’t let him off the hook, I yell “Iain! Hurry up!”  

We walk fairly slowly, I’m muti-tasking as it is, shovelling in my porridge and dry heaving at the same time. My tummy wants proper food but my gag reflex is making it a bit of a challenge. Ken walked with us to take the porridge pot from me, after I’d made a fair go of it. We head up the monster climb onto the Lairig Mor. Again, I am very slow going up, checking my watch split, I clocked 43 minutes for that mile, It felt like it took forever! But in my defence I also paused to take off my waterproof breeks! I was warming up with the effort. At least my snail’s pace gave Iain a chance to catch up, we were fairly steady once there were no more huge climbs.

Lairig Mor, in the past, has been a long ordeal but not this year, my legs still move well as long as there’s no inclines and we hold a steady, consistent pace to Lundavra, (88 miles) I go straight through while my crew have a wee faff with my Horlicks, it was on my Diva Demands to be put in my small flask so I can take it with me but it was in a mug, Gillian quickly poured it into my flask and a bit of sprinting from Neil to get it to me, I was a happy Diva. 

After Lundavra the trail gradually descends with a few wee kickers of climbs, Sue is a real star not only covering over 30 miles with me, she keeps us alert playing games. Starting at the beginning of the alphabet name songs with girls' names, Iain is good for a few, so is Neil, I think I manage one.

I gradually warmed up enough to take my jacket off and tie it around my waist, then I tied my fleece around my middle too.  A slow and steady effort up the final climb to the fire road and then wheeee all the way to the finish. We passed a few other runners on the descent to Braveheart.

Pauline and Val are waiting so I hand Pauline my hat, jacket and fleece, in my mind I’ll be more streamlined for my “sprint” finish without clothes flapping around my middle. I push my sleeves up, and work a strong effort, on the road past the old finish Sue went on ahead to press the button at the road crossing, I think, ‘not yet Sue, not yet Sue!’ I’m working fairly hard and I doubt I could push more if the lights at the pedestrian crossing changed before I got there. No worries, Sue timed it to perfection and Neil and I crossed without a change of pace, through the jinky bits and past the crowds at the station, across the car park, mind the curbs, I work my elbows and sprint the final wee straight and sharp left into the hall.

Wooohooo! Ruth is waiting with her arms wide, I fall into her hug and she holds me tight until I can breathe without sobbing. Once Ruth lets me go it’s suggested I might want to dib in to record my finish. Oh yeah, hang on, my dobber is under the Buff on my wrist, folk try to help but I want to do it myself, do they realise the Buff is full of snotters and slavers? 32 hours, 43 minutes, 54 seconds.This was my slowest West Highland Way Race and I’m not in the least bit disappointed, I still get to celebrate being here and able to do this, the privilege to finish is something to be proud of regardless of time. 

After hugs and celebratory drams, I’m escorted off to our accommodation for a shower, and to make myself presentable for the prize giving. We’re soon back along to the hall and in our seats in good time for prize giving, we hear the final finisher is on his way, the hall erupted into a standing ovation when he entered, finishing within 5 minutes of the cut off, bringing the race home. Fantastic, A perfect ending for this year's race.  

photo credit - Stuart Macfarlane

Neil and I have 36 Goblets and 3420 West Highland Race miles between us.

Every finisher is awarded their Goblet individually with each one a story to tell, and I’m so pleased to see Iain and Sylvia awarded theirs. I spent some time in their company this year, and they are part of my story and cherished memories. 

The efforts of the race team always go way beyond what is expected in normal races, but this is no normal race, it’s family and one that pulled together. I thank you all for your actions in keeping the race going through a difficult situation and tragic outcome.  

Eighteen Goblets is a massive achievement and impossible without the care of my crew, thank you all from the bottom of my heart. I don’t feel like I’m done yet so looking ahead to next June, I’ll take more care of my Achilles and do some hill work!  Also none of my crew said anything about not being able to look after me next year so I’ll take it that they are happy to pander to my Diva demands one more time.