tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54753461682095669422024-03-18T09:47:45.241+00:00A Fun Runners Ultra TalesFiona Renniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18268067089290474811noreply@blogger.comBlogger166125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475346168209566942.post-48221420825566163032023-09-18T18:28:00.003+00:002023-09-19T06:38:42.211+00:00Glenmore 24 My 100th Ultra<span id="docs-internal-guid-83a96ae0-7fff-e137-09e6-09a5c505cf64"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Glenmore 24 just didn’t happen to be my 100th Ultra, it took around a year in the planning, last year it was my 92nd ultra and after Glen Ogle33 I squeezed in a couple extra at the end of 2022 with the Dava Way and the Shale Trail, which I thoroughly enjoyed, to make it a possibility. So in January with all roads leading to Milngavie I did the Falkirk 7 hour, the John Muir Way 50km and the Moray Coastal Trail 50 miler in my build up to the West Highland Way Race. After another successful run I slid seamlessly from recovery to taper with one lovely long run of around 26 miles with Sue from the Glencoe Ski Centre to Fort William a month beforehand. How lovely it was to run Lairig Mhor without eighty odd miles in the legs! I felt that my year has gone well so far and I made it no secret that I was aiming for 100 miles in my 100th Ultra, I put no pressure on myself though. It would just be brilliant if it happened, but as long as I managed 7 laps, 28 miles, it was mission accomplished. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">This year Sue was making her debut at 24 hours, Pauline was doing the 12 hour and in support we had our trusty crew of Ken, Gillian, Val and Allan. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSg5U76WRv9zkCa712GfwOWklqStShnbO2XnDTuL3sQpIPqV6RtLYowEV_d0Hv9OpZwbWVvz73G_FqE1IZEyNKXeZNxUyHLsyBrTfOmgsFKTxycCbvHp5G6XHWqlZdTzAcw-RQkUe3gHI1bwlHBKPGhkNhImohzUO-oyycKOv7CjE4rHIkct-JbvOS4GQ/s2048/Donna%20Wallace.jpg3.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSg5U76WRv9zkCa712GfwOWklqStShnbO2XnDTuL3sQpIPqV6RtLYowEV_d0Hv9OpZwbWVvz73G_FqE1IZEyNKXeZNxUyHLsyBrTfOmgsFKTxycCbvHp5G6XHWqlZdTzAcw-RQkUe3gHI1bwlHBKPGhkNhImohzUO-oyycKOv7CjE4rHIkct-JbvOS4GQ/w400-h266/Donna%20Wallace.jpg3.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo from Donna Wallace</td></tr></tbody></table><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;">For the first time since 2012 I wasn’t sleeping in the Hayfield on Friday night. We had a holiday home in Aviemore from Friday to Tuesday. It did feel like I was cheating a bit sleeping in a proper bed the night before but I’m sure I could handle the guilt! We did go along for some of the Where’s Wally/Lois shenanigans. </span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE5UQaNdgmGS2k5ykYK4rzUcFXsJzSraDKNol-0skjzQ8pfnMKP4C4LSbQ8z22HE_1BIuNzsnJIYCOZx0bFuXh9GbeExpUK1Gtyz-G093pn_U7gl7OnWOQnqBbgsrFNoGOAUyBtxZfFh6aQxeb6YFi_IRjHK4W4ZMwMoSBGaJRG-f4fCPNQL8YxGdfMOY/s2048/Sylvia%20McGoldrick.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE5UQaNdgmGS2k5ykYK4rzUcFXsJzSraDKNol-0skjzQ8pfnMKP4C4LSbQ8z22HE_1BIuNzsnJIYCOZx0bFuXh9GbeExpUK1Gtyz-G093pn_U7gl7OnWOQnqBbgsrFNoGOAUyBtxZfFh6aQxeb6YFi_IRjHK4W4ZMwMoSBGaJRG-f4fCPNQL8YxGdfMOY/w400-h300/Sylvia%20McGoldrick.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo from Sylvia McGoldrick</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">On Saturday morning we got our stuff set up in our shelter and went over our final instructions with Ken, Val and Gillian, Allan took the opportunity to head up to Inverness for the Pars and Caley Thistle game. At 11.30am Bill did the race briefing and just as he was finishing, he called Lorna and myself forward to say that we were both running our 100th ultra and gave me a wee award for having completed 1000 Glenmore miles. </span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijXdtkBgUeNyeBCaoiGglFnXSJd-ceoWfQ5kqTzF7K66ITx4A6ep7-o2MPjsdCEGYi6QPRrVP9TAdqomB654-Ot-QCAlD8Ng-Ldv8B9ioOKDsmdVYV11Z45p6tNn06x0H69EhhzUhOs9z7f_sVRs6ff2vGTqLZ-0BVYMVR66jmEPgEJ5KaUVd1RTbjLh4/s2498/IMG_1280.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2498" data-original-width="1752" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijXdtkBgUeNyeBCaoiGglFnXSJd-ceoWfQ5kqTzF7K66ITx4A6ep7-o2MPjsdCEGYi6QPRrVP9TAdqomB654-Ot-QCAlD8Ng-Ldv8B9ioOKDsmdVYV11Z45p6tNn06x0H69EhhzUhOs9z7f_sVRs6ff2vGTqLZ-0BVYMVR66jmEPgEJ5KaUVd1RTbjLh4/w280-h400/IMG_1280.JPG" width="280" /></a></div><br /><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">We assembled at the start just before noon, Bill called for the runners to move forward to the start, there was a gap of a good few yards between the start line and runners, nobody moved, on the second call, still no one moved, Pauline, Sue and myself were standing well back behind the fast guys and I laughed when Pauline said “Right! Come on! Let’s stand on the line!” We moved wide after we were set off, so we weren’t trampled by the racing snakes. </span></div></span><p></p><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx4kR8gbMh2kB6FqR23YmlUUssimuMRu2h0xuhupivr_rQNHgdDeIdDo-SiXRhJ1-pOdZgmt3HOLBNKHgdor7VXiIHfgJh_yOpVp3Gms17CfglMim3dh1D-m9YW1MWCaN5W3GZyJnbJxtdag8sKGIjKEDJAQ_5rrcYJjpf9Sxa4F5fBfei29hgHwG--qc/s2607/IMG_1255.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1831" data-original-width="2607" height="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx4kR8gbMh2kB6FqR23YmlUUssimuMRu2h0xuhupivr_rQNHgdDeIdDo-SiXRhJ1-pOdZgmt3HOLBNKHgdor7VXiIHfgJh_yOpVp3Gms17CfglMim3dh1D-m9YW1MWCaN5W3GZyJnbJxtdag8sKGIjKEDJAQ_5rrcYJjpf9Sxa4F5fBfei29hgHwG--qc/w400-h281/IMG_1255.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span><br /></span></div><div><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;">In 2011 I gave each mile a name, the lumpy bumpy mile, a twisty narrow path with a few rough bits under foot, then the long mile, a wide flatish forest track that I try to run it all, then the uphill mile and the downhill mile. I have a simple formula for pacing 100 miles at Glenmore, run the first 5 laps (20 miles) in 4 hours when you’re fresh and spritely then as long as you keep a fine steady lap an hour, it’s mission accomplished. Easy said, but putting it into practice is not always so easy, and although this was my 14th 24 hour race it was also my 32nd race with a minimum 24 hours, I mentioned this a few days before the race to Pauline she instantly replied that I should’ve been faster for my West Highland Way Races then! Oh well, never mind, at least all that experience of time on feet would hold me in good stead when things got challenging. Which happened sooner than I would’ve liked! Very early in fact! I usually feel it takes about four laps to settle into my groove and it was only the second lap I felt a wee bit of a stitch and I could feel the bottle belt I was using was making my tummy feel sore, so I swapped to the race vest, I didn’t panic, I would just ease right back, there was plenty time for my tummy to settle. </span></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijBGgdeiHofu8uoQDJYSBwjqhygaVQJUwEF_wCK6WLI5L5c6oYFqGTitfxPcMdBxxrwh6igOORmsFYYRVYs4m_2K_BmtO-zdZfQy1mWKf-WS6fe6YvvEyKV5zha5j4YcFOT6MutT8GAY-9s5t3geFe9S_DTfNTBjle5_lNFXf1fJmFyTmhw2KVVslijDM/s1252/Colin%20Knox.jpg8.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1174" data-original-width="1252" height="375" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijBGgdeiHofu8uoQDJYSBwjqhygaVQJUwEF_wCK6WLI5L5c6oYFqGTitfxPcMdBxxrwh6igOORmsFYYRVYs4m_2K_BmtO-zdZfQy1mWKf-WS6fe6YvvEyKV5zha5j4YcFOT6MutT8GAY-9s5t3geFe9S_DTfNTBjle5_lNFXf1fJmFyTmhw2KVVslijDM/w400-h375/Colin%20Knox.jpg8.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo from Colin Knox</td></tr></tbody></table><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Plot spoiler, my stomach never really got better, some laps were a wee bit easier than others and it turns out I’m a gold medalist in the dry boak category, the down hill aggravated my tummy but I wasn’t wasting the gift of gravity and always ran down the hill. I adjusted my race plan from aiming at a target to aiming for a finish. I focused on good posture, resisting the urge to curl over and be a shuffling sack o’ tatties, keeping my hips forward letting them lead the way, shoulders down and relaxed with my shoulder blades resting easy like Angel’s wings on my back, head up and staying light on my feet. Suffering is a choice and not an option on my tick list! I would do what I could with the body I have on the day. I won’t dwell on what was not to be and enjoy my beautiful surroundings with the best of company around me, telling myself that if it got really bad I could stop at 7 laps, right? “Aye, right! In all my years of running races I’ve never DNF’d yet, it’s not going to happen today either!” shouted back my inner voice. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2AE5l4qOa7wSwHpd_OXNV4jckPb3XlvINfAdxgQNnJal_jkVu-vgAUv7HW3Kfz333jYExl3Z18LKJLxO7_gpcISx8T6pWWSa9dtATEeUHB7ppZ5bV8X4KO5CXOBIkCXQEJlNCOFDzoSQzd94ClzPkeTPyyg-qgv6TyNuFbATgj3DKtEY6BlkVYMncJ00/s2471/IMG_1527.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1838" data-original-width="2471" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2AE5l4qOa7wSwHpd_OXNV4jckPb3XlvINfAdxgQNnJal_jkVu-vgAUv7HW3Kfz333jYExl3Z18LKJLxO7_gpcISx8T6pWWSa9dtATEeUHB7ppZ5bV8X4KO5CXOBIkCXQEJlNCOFDzoSQzd94ClzPkeTPyyg-qgv6TyNuFbATgj3DKtEY6BlkVYMncJ00/w400-h297/IMG_1527.JPG" width="400" /></a></div></span></div><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Lorna and I were together for over a lap and it was lovely to reminisce over the races we have done,</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Lorna said that she had totalled all her ultra race miles, I hadn’t thought to do that but I will now. It was a gorgeously warm and sunny day, maybe a wee bit warm for some but I like it that way, I’m usually such a cauld tattie, and in a race of this length I always feel that if you’re too hot you’re going too fast! It was a pleasure being back on route in the magic of Glenmore and adding to the 252 laps I’ve done over the previous years, it never stops being special. Also the only race where it’s not surprising to see a Gorilla or a Penguin on a bike! Shame I didn’t have my camera with me on those laps!</span><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7KUTmz9M4Jb280AAPz8fTnm1daiyJs4JwBGWbsbOydbcEyun9NuxTjeEbkTrnzHzi1hM-VZtyjnoP9hLv4s2nRDql9jWfnSU4WwW8wzOCK-lzC2plcQimUG6lWVXtj1Q8SQogoKcS9dQZdxJsMn5I3c1e6tGkYaeQ9pswPHGtBMCCEIsfss5U603J-rg/s1947/IMG_1271.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1569" data-original-width="1947" height="323" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7KUTmz9M4Jb280AAPz8fTnm1daiyJs4JwBGWbsbOydbcEyun9NuxTjeEbkTrnzHzi1hM-VZtyjnoP9hLv4s2nRDql9jWfnSU4WwW8wzOCK-lzC2plcQimUG6lWVXtj1Q8SQogoKcS9dQZdxJsMn5I3c1e6tGkYaeQ9pswPHGtBMCCEIsfss5U603J-rg/w400-h323/IMG_1271.JPG" width="400" /></a><br /></div><p></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi588T3rEYF4EPLzswC0x-FOKwK4ur2A8lH-k9sTYXd1Ve42lY4EcICT1WK-NQY3MXPO3X4-RftKbRKJBdcHZtjfWUD0CgIyjAOqzDu1Gkr9i1-JXBag5hKeRQcewGjExcTZHrocmtRo15jq3FUFpy6VEzxwWhzx23zvxpx8uuXvoIwIv4mtEm3Gtf0iE/s2354/IMG_1285.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1804" data-original-width="2354" height="306" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi588T3rEYF4EPLzswC0x-FOKwK4ur2A8lH-k9sTYXd1Ve42lY4EcICT1WK-NQY3MXPO3X4-RftKbRKJBdcHZtjfWUD0CgIyjAOqzDu1Gkr9i1-JXBag5hKeRQcewGjExcTZHrocmtRo15jq3FUFpy6VEzxwWhzx23zvxpx8uuXvoIwIv4mtEm3Gtf0iE/w400-h306/IMG_1285.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtxWDQls4Sap6w5eUD2NVFsIb6CXe50LQSyyVBWFGtxknMxGTFToUZpDeiBC5Yn1sofdTmXA1LE2yKEN6RP2x6yfm7aVs1Qxmbd94qnsMKqFN3PmFjnvEduo4u7nOQBO-o0ZsfteSrtC8iEvS34Wx9OHPjYjEMkQEvAZgcD2FdUriRiOqeZjWUI4EkcHw/s2082/IMG_1297.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1413" data-original-width="2082" height="271" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtxWDQls4Sap6w5eUD2NVFsIb6CXe50LQSyyVBWFGtxknMxGTFToUZpDeiBC5Yn1sofdTmXA1LE2yKEN6RP2x6yfm7aVs1Qxmbd94qnsMKqFN3PmFjnvEduo4u7nOQBO-o0ZsfteSrtC8iEvS34Wx9OHPjYjEMkQEvAZgcD2FdUriRiOqeZjWUI4EkcHw/w400-h271/IMG_1297.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd4UCEN1v2CtuMWq8-SMEm8aGtpTt8RynQkkr25i-OweTCJEeo99Hbz2ZPr2GbayPrCTaoE8Dn5MtNLtuWbBHj6WJDiBFgTJX4dp9FPpYtIjCcn4IlVA3Cm7eMNuw9kfaF1dSU63-6GWG5EcX5kzCiSxYBAuCaQ5BzLGFPojMzOeK34LGoGwjRumvUSow/s1843/IMG_1392.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1322" data-original-width="1843" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd4UCEN1v2CtuMWq8-SMEm8aGtpTt8RynQkkr25i-OweTCJEeo99Hbz2ZPr2GbayPrCTaoE8Dn5MtNLtuWbBHj6WJDiBFgTJX4dp9FPpYtIjCcn4IlVA3Cm7eMNuw9kfaF1dSU63-6GWG5EcX5kzCiSxYBAuCaQ5BzLGFPojMzOeK34LGoGwjRumvUSow/w400-h288/IMG_1392.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinexqAXVmODF7gNJnxUa7MpZdWLsWOvVUWun47elvkSLXuyNp5u7J7Vs-sdE9WOIDT_f953iXUvTHXcEKGYDqsLuIeYEuTwGUJYPeyT4sKe8U4wYVOmVVFfDAWUvUerADoa5oF7fIWG1w3WdeWBeZIw4oaJnMH_AXwJ1ZxZjjdkbXYPHTi-iT1vm2gQ4A/s1986/IMG_1481.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1379" data-original-width="1986" height="278" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinexqAXVmODF7gNJnxUa7MpZdWLsWOvVUWun47elvkSLXuyNp5u7J7Vs-sdE9WOIDT_f953iXUvTHXcEKGYDqsLuIeYEuTwGUJYPeyT4sKe8U4wYVOmVVFfDAWUvUerADoa5oF7fIWG1w3WdeWBeZIw4oaJnMH_AXwJ1ZxZjjdkbXYPHTi-iT1vm2gQ4A/w400-h278/IMG_1481.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">One lap I felt I was on my own for all of it and wondered </span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Where was everybody? </span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> Next lap I found them and had loads of wee blethers, it’s lovely on a lapped course where everyone’s different pace can bring you together at times. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">I had a plan written for what I’d pick up to eat each lap, timing pasta or soup around tea time, supper time, and generally choosing between custard, rice pudding, milkshakes the rest of the time, sometimes it was quite difficult to say a lap in advance of what I fancied next lap but when Val asked me what I’d like next time I said “A mug of tea and a couple of custard creams.” She looked a bit perplexed, asking if they were in my food bag. “No!” was my wistful reply, I didn’t have any, but that’s just what I would like! Oh well, never mind, just custard it is then! </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">I did have one Diva strop, we were using a wee red box placed at the top of the Hayfield just before you head out onto the big lap for dropping food stuff taken round base camp so our support didn’t have to hoof up to the top to take it from us each time, they could pick them up at their convenience. I have rules for 24 hour races, I do not sit down and I do not stop to eat. but with my dodgy guts I wasn’t eating very much each lap but made sure I was having at least half a pot of rice pudding, custard etc. and putting it in the box to be picked up again and hopefully finish it the next lap. Early in the evening I insisted that our support make a “No Rubbish!” sign and put it on our drop box, since some manky basturt was using it for their rubbish. Seeing a lump of orange peel that someone has slobbered on next to my mug set the red lights flashing on my boak-o-meter which was on a high setting as it was! Bleurgh! </span></p><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwMe6SGI4t-XSdFIDzbx7UEbyUxSUBdR4-ygPdCg7gWy1nnOXQGm7_S_XFwNB9PKJJU6jMV1GqkKvr8CSAysEgyzy_YIM069SwiWfbqvx-dKRN4Fb5eVhxixtjCeqegni6DusYEZWb-RNgm1mG2Eb4IoO-aQCb1e--FogTUUCiDy1hoCMmFA4zTrhYNYg/s2048/Donna%20Wallace.jpg2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwMe6SGI4t-XSdFIDzbx7UEbyUxSUBdR4-ygPdCg7gWy1nnOXQGm7_S_XFwNB9PKJJU6jMV1GqkKvr8CSAysEgyzy_YIM069SwiWfbqvx-dKRN4Fb5eVhxixtjCeqegni6DusYEZWb-RNgm1mG2Eb4IoO-aQCb1e--FogTUUCiDy1hoCMmFA4zTrhYNYg/w400-h266/Donna%20Wallace.jpg2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo from Donna Wallace</td></tr></tbody></table><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Allan was back from the football bringing pizza for the crew, evening drew on, I picked up my head-torch and another layer, next time round my iPod. There was no fiery sunset over the loch this year but I did catch a glimpse of the sun's embers through the trees on the downhill mile. The sky had clouded over so at least the temperature didn’t drop below zero, on the Thursday before the race there was a full moon and it was still huge casting silvery light around. On one lap it hung in the centre between the tall trees on the uphill mile and my playlist, just by magic, played Runrig’s Running to the Light, that made me smile and my heart happy. </span></div><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Pauliine finished at midnight covering 50 miles in the 12 hours on naff all training (ya cannae hide class). She and Allan headed back to the house for the luxury of a good night’s sleep in a proper bed. </span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">I was wanting to take some paracetamol so I thought I better try and get something a bit more substantial in for them to land on, I was standing in front of our shelter having a fight between swallowing some rice pudding and heaving, Val gave me strict instruction not to throw up on the table or even in front of it! Gillian quipped “You’re not really enjoying that, are you?” </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">“Naw!” I swallowed my effervescent paracetamol and caffeine with one eye shut, a screwed up face and shudder of my shoulders! A bit of a pallaver but it will get me round another lap. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Run when I could, walk the uphills and lumpy terrain, sing along to my tunes, and just keep moving forward. How much longer is it going to be dark? I was having a real struggle keeping awake, my head would nod! Right, eyes open, march on, I’m awake, then my head would jerk up, I’d nodded off again! Lois saved me, catching me up, we stayed together chatting the sleep away until we could switch off our head-torches. Dawn at last, yay, you always perk up with the sunrise. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">With just less than four hours to go I looked at how many big laps I could fit in, I didn’t fancy a whole hour on the wee laps also I didn’t want to be panicking a push to squeeze in an extra big lap, if I could up my effort a wee bit I’d be fine for three big laps and around half an hour on the wee laps, that sounds like a stress free plan and would give me 23 big laps of 92 miles. Just 3 more laps until the finish, I could start counting down, managing to bring my lap split down by almost 10 minutes a lap. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz116_a5RE36dyVLD-UKchnJomf2JLst5NLSGYpwfOgO6i00sWbx-koWyVdvc0Cs7fEwDWwO93CUoJm-ub4_MoAFcs9OumhfFlMYN93j3ZncBswLPEm6GrVoL_kdaq0-_S7lnNffk3D4cLrrhq20-M2hAyDIXax2HiH34E1lHrh8iw_WXvp_0V0LaNK94/s2048/Donna%20Wallace.jpg1.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz116_a5RE36dyVLD-UKchnJomf2JLst5NLSGYpwfOgO6i00sWbx-koWyVdvc0Cs7fEwDWwO93CUoJm-ub4_MoAFcs9OumhfFlMYN93j3ZncBswLPEm6GrVoL_kdaq0-_S7lnNffk3D4cLrrhq20-M2hAyDIXax2HiH34E1lHrh8iw_WXvp_0V0LaNK94/w400-h266/Donna%20Wallace.jpg1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo from Donna Wallace</td></tr></tbody></table><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Another big boost, Allan and Pauline were back, bringing bacon rolls for the team and a packet of custard creams for me! Yaay! You cannae beat dunking custard creams in a mug of tea to put a smile on your face, I’ll be having them in my adventure supplies from now on! </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Final big lap, I say cheerio to all my favourite bits, a wee bit sad that I won’t see them again until next year but also really glad that I’ll get to stop soon, I’m back in the Hayfield with around 35 minutes left. I think of one more wee target, if I can get 3 miles that will give me West Highland Way distance. Pauline shouts to me “12 laps will give you a West Highland Way!” Ha, ha, great minds and all that! I threw my race vest under the table at our shelter, I won’t be needing anything now except my determination. Work up the hill and the best way down is to let gravity take me and fly, picking the straightest line without crashing into anyone going down at a sensible pace. Ada shouted “Go on Fiona, show them how it’s done!” I keep the momentum I’ve gathered for as long as possible, working my elbows, round the bottom of the field, breathing like an old donkey, back up the hill and flying down again! I lose count of the laps but Pauline keeps me right! One more, one more, one more. I didn’t hear the horn climbing the hill but I saw Donald waving his arms to signal the finish and I pushed my tent peg with my number into the ground and stood still. I decide not to lie down, it would be too hard to get back up, Val walked over to meet me and we made our way back to our stuff, I sat down for the first time in 24 hours and didn't quite know what to do with myself, a mug of tea and more custard creams was trying to help, but not before I let out the biggest burp all the way from my boots, at that precise moment Martin Butcher leaned over my shoulder to give me a hug!! I was mortified! My apologies Martin! </span></p><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF43VoNoFKKSzX5gaO09R35IXHLvFrd70bK-9AP9lRbMGCI5LlvSJQ-gXxt8gl9tfX71EdN8onMeJJdPogwYOQ0gTiBBqo4Vk__g5TCkyQ1u27sS4ViC2nLz6U9ZDpXZAGTHYAi86Jqr-JJdJ3RQx2wH4BMoHLEKc8J04ohj0AljvprVq46MTVHaQh1Nw/s2505/IMG_1258.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2505" data-original-width="1885" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF43VoNoFKKSzX5gaO09R35IXHLvFrd70bK-9AP9lRbMGCI5LlvSJQ-gXxt8gl9tfX71EdN8onMeJJdPogwYOQ0gTiBBqo4Vk__g5TCkyQ1u27sS4ViC2nLz6U9ZDpXZAGTHYAi86Jqr-JJdJ3RQx2wH4BMoHLEKc8J04ohj0AljvprVq46MTVHaQh1Nw/w301-h400/IMG_1258.JPG" width="301" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">315 Ultras between us</td></tr></tbody></table><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;">At the prizegiving, Ada was announcing everyone’s distance as they were awarded their medal and beer. Did I do enough wee laps for 95 miles? Wahay! 95.05 miles! That’ll do! </span></div><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG9rzGd4OxFFy8mYfKkKDdT1wMsd4DVfWbqxR74XhfnYvERQ2Y6msHrZ2lpdJ0tILh3rZuUwepcbaM3jzrZK-Lqa0hdJaELJETDWcRudZ4phIjFUllInFJ2jn6bUf_mIBVguo3ylnIvZ-KoKVeez2XX0tkx63nsMDMgmu_vPNmuI9fYzIcWXioGhvPZQU/s1474/IMG_1278.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1363" data-original-width="1474" height="370" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG9rzGd4OxFFy8mYfKkKDdT1wMsd4DVfWbqxR74XhfnYvERQ2Y6msHrZ2lpdJ0tILh3rZuUwepcbaM3jzrZK-Lqa0hdJaELJETDWcRudZ4phIjFUllInFJ2jn6bUf_mIBVguo3ylnIvZ-KoKVeez2XX0tkx63nsMDMgmu_vPNmuI9fYzIcWXioGhvPZQU/w400-h370/IMG_1278.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;">I was well chuffed and really pleased for Sue in her debut covering 95.45 miles also having a bit of a battle with her belly. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Finally my stomach felt settled, but not until later on Sunday night after I’d had a shower, a wee sleep before we went out for our meal and a big bowl of Cullen Skink and a couple of pints of Dark Ness did the job! </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Thank you Bill, every marshal, every supporter and all the runners for making it another wonderful year of running round in circles. I have now completed a grand total of 1125.45 miles with 275 laps and 24.46 miles on the wee laps. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Here’s how it all adds up</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">2011 108 miles, there were no wee laps for the first year </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">2012 109.01 miles, 1st Female</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">2013 25.45 miles, a 6 hour special just for me post mouth cancer treatment</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">2014 89.56 miles </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">2015 107.35 miles</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">2016 103.26 miles</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">2017 102.04 miles </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">2018 102.61 miles</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">2019 103.36 miles </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">2021 98.02 miles</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">2022 82.75 miles, 5 days post covid infection</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">2023 95.05 miles </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Next year's target has kind of set itself, I’ll be aiming for 101.75 miles. This will round up my big laps to 300 and give me marathon distance on the wee ones! Sounds like a great plan to me! </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">I’ve just added up all my ultra race miles and I’ve covered 5643 miles. I've been a serial offender at races I enjoy. 17 West Highland Way Races, 8 Highland Flings, and between them both I’ve covered over 2000 miles on the beautiful Way. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtrnqYLOluBFcFh35Poo01Wfbrep5yPsMDjZHbvyti0t8PhjcuOyr0GZ-B1l6BLz7Yymj084n6ogQsSKy9oQWq3xvWvkx5TxI4ZmHPNx4rhUxxExZNKdiYX3aGxTeMPqntKLZEWZJ2uQPfutcZazCMZXZ7PfqCb3jDzzXNqKFmxhWxjoqa3wUOrLn7w3Q/s2778/IMG_7831.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1366" data-original-width="2778" height="196" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtrnqYLOluBFcFh35Poo01Wfbrep5yPsMDjZHbvyti0t8PhjcuOyr0GZ-B1l6BLz7Yymj084n6ogQsSKy9oQWq3xvWvkx5TxI4ZmHPNx4rhUxxExZNKdiYX3aGxTeMPqntKLZEWZJ2uQPfutcZazCMZXZ7PfqCb3jDzzXNqKFmxhWxjoqa3wUOrLn7w3Q/w400-h196/IMG_7831.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;">11 of the 14 24 hour races I’ve done have been at Glenmore, I’ve had the honour of representing Scotland twice at 24 hours and brought home a team Bronze Medal at the Commonwealth Championships Mountain and Ultra in 2009 with fellow Carnegie Harriers, Pauline and Lynne. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLPMCQOAg-TwTjZ1QTZKhsn87COcCMgXjAf4_FYM6mtLmIAgXJQF5EA7UN6Z9kFiEdzRtQX8AC0ZGnfeP7XpQ9fO05kvv3Z1T6Xc6XMG0onf8Tpb7DKlvlljoMeinJor4OSWRx3h3keWI_k0hckOHDIpgTpw9haieWbJfBbgnsKtvfmlxCB7BCBZW9AIw/s3872/keswick09%20004gen.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2592" data-original-width="3872" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLPMCQOAg-TwTjZ1QTZKhsn87COcCMgXjAf4_FYM6mtLmIAgXJQF5EA7UN6Z9kFiEdzRtQX8AC0ZGnfeP7XpQ9fO05kvv3Z1T6Xc6XMG0onf8Tpb7DKlvlljoMeinJor4OSWRx3h3keWI_k0hckOHDIpgTpw9haieWbJfBbgnsKtvfmlxCB7BCBZW9AIw/w400-h268/keswick09%20004gen.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scotland 24 hour team with Don Ritchie photo from Alan Young</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1TmueOlJn73EW_Xfiza3lmOwBjnItH6GApZnusZU21dsEnKqTzbNnzJf3UZ48_9c3_DO0bZHDhbtXSDsm0VRZ7-XSjcuNGUfoWdiPyy4uFLY4-EUoHuiS2HQnaayZEBYXtV1K-gnUUtIhAcBpugMWJEjJTzl98qDXtPiNY2hcToJb9e3I1VHWsHCkEn8/s2508/keswick09%20002ps%20copy.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1965" data-original-width="2508" height="314" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1TmueOlJn73EW_Xfiza3lmOwBjnItH6GApZnusZU21dsEnKqTzbNnzJf3UZ48_9c3_DO0bZHDhbtXSDsm0VRZ7-XSjcuNGUfoWdiPyy4uFLY4-EUoHuiS2HQnaayZEBYXtV1K-gnUUtIhAcBpugMWJEjJTzl98qDXtPiNY2hcToJb9e3I1VHWsHCkEn8/w400-h314/keswick09%20002ps%20copy.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo from Alan Young</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEX0FsRvpw-ousVrvyo-a26GuasGJJLO5goAoLK7xWLPwPnUWeygpUHo5VPXen5RFTWa3h2G5fKCLg9_oFXVYq8IfgwxeoVr3N50Xrrdnh2N4ly5eM5XNQ9JTCLFt_qMsjk310Wai1gfa9Tso6vkSnkZCIfyZFo20zJMWs6A534PEEKvl8tNiNhRkvrEg/s1600/DSCF2202.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEX0FsRvpw-ousVrvyo-a26GuasGJJLO5goAoLK7xWLPwPnUWeygpUHo5VPXen5RFTWa3h2G5fKCLg9_oFXVYq8IfgwxeoVr3N50Xrrdnh2N4ly5eM5XNQ9JTCLFt_qMsjk310Wai1gfa9Tso6vkSnkZCIfyZFo20zJMWs6A534PEEKvl8tNiNhRkvrEg/w300-h400/DSCF2202.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><p></p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPOwviBEz1_MwLCtdiKh9nvorzCfjlnoijOOyhz4JE0zQ6vTVAUS-M6hoFnKqckFaJz9XCuQPMCC87lIk6DpEM4ux1MBxysIwH-aN4vtz14h-juYlZFPNPxHBBe0jN6T0uliJ6V7og_YZgaercZ-XsCESZPm0yFvj0OKMqPRHIfkdmad204AP6rXvmhpw/s1600/Speyside%20Way%201999.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1066" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPOwviBEz1_MwLCtdiKh9nvorzCfjlnoijOOyhz4JE0zQ6vTVAUS-M6hoFnKqckFaJz9XCuQPMCC87lIk6DpEM4ux1MBxysIwH-aN4vtz14h-juYlZFPNPxHBBe0jN6T0uliJ6V7og_YZgaercZ-XsCESZPm0yFvj0OKMqPRHIfkdmad204AP6rXvmhpw/w400-h266/Speyside%20Way%201999.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; text-align: left; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Not all my race mementos are medals or crystal, a post it note of congratulations from Don Ritchie is cherished too. </span></div><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">I've covered 347.12 miles round The Inches at Perth during 2 24 hour races, a 100km and 2 50km races. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">9 Glen Ogle 33</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">6 Two Bridges, 7 Glenrothes 50km, sadly both of them are no longer around. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Not counting the Fling or the 100km I’ve done another 3 races of around 50 miles/12 hours and a 48 hours on a 400 metre track and another 32 races of around 50km. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">I have absolutely no inclination of retiring, I might have a bus pass but I am not old! You only get old when you stop running! </span></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></p><br /></span><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />Fiona Renniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18268067089290474811noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475346168209566942.post-26468158643075972632023-06-27T15:52:00.000+00:002023-06-27T15:52:41.508+00:00West Highland Way Race 2023<p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;">My training this year went really well, nothing was a struggle and I even felt comfortable running the Isle of Skye Half Marathon the week before the race at an easy pace in 27C, perfect prep. with the weather forecast.</span></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-08f71e3f-7fff-8b50-bca3-88231ef7697e"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Ken and Sue’s daughter’s wedding clashed with the race so I had new recruits in the crew for this year doing split shifts. The plan was for Pauline and Val to do the first half using Allan’s car which was used throughout for support, then Allan coming up mid-afternoon in Val’s car bringing Gillian, and new to the team, Jon. Neil after seeing us off in Milngavie went home for a good night's sleep before returning later to run with me from Glencoe. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">We arrived in Milngavie before it got busy, I registered among hugs and wee catch ups, I didn’t hang about too long and went back to the car to chill. I was calm with an inner smile anticipating the adventure. With around 40 minutes before the start I went back into the church to use the loo, and for the first time ever in nearly 40 years of running races, I walked straight into the Ladies while there was a huge queue at the Gents! Equality at last!</span></p><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA7k1UioE8KcbmYyViqahzqtn7UKyMZzHgMOwr71_RRnkTCKrMUovXwwF57rE0hA0P86OJrMAP8KXeA2dwJhpHMhPsjZKijK4gJG61jhhfcWkMdQVObUyxPblPeHgVoM7aUvpzlpGtJGH7pTxumkAs5_TwNUaS1QC11J_DeO8o7-w3nI0FPTxezkmMuyY/s3265/IMG_0346.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2780" data-original-width="3265" height="340" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA7k1UioE8KcbmYyViqahzqtn7UKyMZzHgMOwr71_RRnkTCKrMUovXwwF57rE0hA0P86OJrMAP8KXeA2dwJhpHMhPsjZKijK4gJG61jhhfcWkMdQVObUyxPblPeHgVoM7aUvpzlpGtJGH7pTxumkAs5_TwNUaS1QC11J_DeO8o7-w3nI0FPTxezkmMuyY/w400-h340/IMG_0346.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Ian and Sean gave the briefing, and at 1.00am we were off! WOOOOHOOO! Carefully up the steps, I tend not to think negativity but imagine if you tripped here! A big daft grin, absorbing the cheers and applause lining the street and turning down into Mugdock, </span></div><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil5o27xebfq8O7F5zUnoewK9kMg8z6FDHGmxYsYe6gWiD1jj8fIEuk6JI-fR3aOD0WVpj4CsYuNGSJ2juQV9RNvD23JdlcIcLpdleD21S6m6L32XOPbyC4LYFyriAM2qOtgLW0pozhgmtkM2ltqjYBNP-o5tU3vRN1zg5xy5MuMKx0iUh7bIf8zPso_8s/s2568/IMG_7716.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1940" data-original-width="2568" height="303" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil5o27xebfq8O7F5zUnoewK9kMg8z6FDHGmxYsYe6gWiD1jj8fIEuk6JI-fR3aOD0WVpj4CsYuNGSJ2juQV9RNvD23JdlcIcLpdleD21S6m6L32XOPbyC4LYFyriAM2qOtgLW0pozhgmtkM2ltqjYBNP-o5tU3vRN1zg5xy5MuMKx0iUh7bIf8zPso_8s/w400-h303/IMG_7716.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;">I kept my eyes focussed on the path. It doesn't bear thinking about having a stupid race ending stumble here. There’s wee bits of chatter as we all try to settle into our pace. It was really warm, I was brave and didn’t have gloves on or carry them, although I was still in long tights and top (folks that know me are used to seeing me in the runners equivalent of a Duffle coat). Within the trees there was no breeze and I even had a wee touch of sweat on the side of my face, it really must have been warm! </span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">I had company along the narrow path by Drumgoyne to Gartness; the excited chatter was now replaced by companionable silence as we all settled into our own groove. There were patches of light in the sky, it was fairly clear, with a hint of pink, and heading to Drymen the embers began to smoulder and build strength promising a glorious sunrise. Pauline and Val were in the field, I swapped my water bottle, took a pouch of custard and ditched my headtorch. It still wasn’t proper dawn but I could make out where to place my feet. I kept glancing over my right shoulder as I climbed Conic. I didn’t want to miss the moment when the sun crowned the hill, bringing its light and energy. </span></p><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1dB5YnYJGcxqgFlUIQnNNk7K1IjUNmGjZ69IKEq1gsC6V0g6f-3e4EEIIwbSOfHT0Q52MKyeSxrdxpUaZTsXkSoZFbDV4RsUSnn3K4TIxZIPqlEuokRMzCrKKEphdiGFoV7FqdDX8H0GUYv_rII5826J58D1GcA6mIoPYEY7or6z7a7bxz71rvzCAGHQ/s4384/IMG_0395.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3237" data-original-width="4384" height="295" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1dB5YnYJGcxqgFlUIQnNNk7K1IjUNmGjZ69IKEq1gsC6V0g6f-3e4EEIIwbSOfHT0Q52MKyeSxrdxpUaZTsXkSoZFbDV4RsUSnn3K4TIxZIPqlEuokRMzCrKKEphdiGFoV7FqdDX8H0GUYv_rII5826J58D1GcA6mIoPYEY7or6z7a7bxz71rvzCAGHQ/w400-h295/IMG_0395.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhglGb7Rek_FDOYjfB93uzuWwolE1zPhYit4IF10i6Nc_LuZ8LpQwJjEBUmZeJZO1MzRdkZ73ypdEPXXbhsvNMadS4LMA8w5HIhWnNtF2hd2uTmyL6VmePO8WeQQZ0jtS2Yegqdlfpmg0asoWsmU7R-7dITfMAtijew98jQBdMHrFzyWbdtvc_fKMxUM4/s4086/IMG_0379.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3158" data-original-width="4086" height="309" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhglGb7Rek_FDOYjfB93uzuWwolE1zPhYit4IF10i6Nc_LuZ8LpQwJjEBUmZeJZO1MzRdkZ73ypdEPXXbhsvNMadS4LMA8w5HIhWnNtF2hd2uTmyL6VmePO8WeQQZ0jtS2Yegqdlfpmg0asoWsmU7R-7dITfMAtijew98jQBdMHrFzyWbdtvc_fKMxUM4/w400-h309/IMG_0379.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Now it felt like a fresh new day and I settled into enjoying the adventure. Heading down towards Balmaha, I walked the new stone steps very carefully, it’s a steep descent with sharp stones, if you stumbled here your face has a long way to go before hitting the ground, with the chances of a serious head injury, </span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidd-MPXBItgw03eLfRBsCuk8eXIvbXFrgYJf9p3u2jknGavaaLyNsF16VRif1jPGKYSNkKS29DrUeqbyXLFHmk0LO07VKhjhJZPsdRv-84rwjhljFtamzV6H7vsf_juMa7IQnO3GWE51MN2NYOkJFXrsMmVNSmw5mL7KLOvS02adFwrGusdPrAUWrEM_w/s4594/IMG_0427.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3480" data-original-width="4594" height="303" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidd-MPXBItgw03eLfRBsCuk8eXIvbXFrgYJf9p3u2jknGavaaLyNsF16VRif1jPGKYSNkKS29DrUeqbyXLFHmk0LO07VKhjhJZPsdRv-84rwjhljFtamzV6H7vsf_juMa7IQnO3GWE51MN2NYOkJFXrsMmVNSmw5mL7KLOvS02adFwrGusdPrAUWrEM_w/w400-h303/IMG_0427.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;">I wasn’t risking it, besides I was saving my quads for the swoop down to Kinlochleven and the massive haul up back out.</span></div><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Pauline had walked a short way out from Balmaha with my tub of porridge </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;">so I could start shovelling it in before reaching Val at the car with my mug of tea, fresh water bottle and squishy fruit pouch, we swapped over like the 400 metre relay team, without breaking stride and Pauline walked with me towards Craigie Fort to take the mug from me once I’d had enough tea. </span></p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh62WHBPd78su3fDXfBMvEfSPUnIdppyiz_Ca1VCf4CyFmI0j-n_agVtBYecP2PIy8e63VzzswkaH9epCJvBl60Pn_PY68UmfEgEcoP2AYVY0RifUBQB9DXc2eTc2dO4vLKt-IvdlHId4D9BrecwZvSbaZY0Gy5LCKWri1sfA1uPzrlBqw0YIL80UNm3-s/s1023/IMG_7724.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="881" data-original-width="1023" height="345" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh62WHBPd78su3fDXfBMvEfSPUnIdppyiz_Ca1VCf4CyFmI0j-n_agVtBYecP2PIy8e63VzzswkaH9epCJvBl60Pn_PY68UmfEgEcoP2AYVY0RifUBQB9DXc2eTc2dO4vLKt-IvdlHId4D9BrecwZvSbaZY0Gy5LCKWri1sfA1uPzrlBqw0YIL80UNm3-s/w400-h345/IMG_7724.JPG" width="400" /></a></div></span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">I always love the path along to Rowardennan, through ancient woodland, listening to the birdsong, in my element, at one with nature, my pace flowing with the ups and downs of the terrain until Stumble, Splat, Ooft, Ooyah! Two guys beside me paused to make sure I was alright, telling me to take my time getting back up, but I was straight into “I’m ok!” mode, and was on my feet almost as quick as I went down. My right knee was a bit ouchy but no hole in my tights, a quick rub down to knock the stoor off, then I noticed my right arm had a deep gouge towards my elbow, “Oh dear, this is going to nip in the shower later!” Never mind, a good rub with an antiseptic wipe, let the fresh air at it and it will be fine. I walked a few strides making sure I really was ok before returning to the harmony of where I was and what I was doing. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">I arrived in Rowardennan just before 8.00am perfectly timing a costume change before the temperature rose. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvzqafdY4lSqHWjEizeGQyYCRE0IuO5hj9GzadjtduHzNtnSsfYmaItW6bWEI2ckdUX7UwnOVhIQjbbgiazK3Xl7r5Gl__voXvhq-El6RdHOTz-6W0I0-yTVV4Lbvn4SsPODHuDxVlOsYTF-Qtl1eOpsK1rfBqRzuftCHM0s76qAqAprbF1T6MGTV8I2o/s2510/IMG_7743.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2510" data-original-width="1814" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvzqafdY4lSqHWjEizeGQyYCRE0IuO5hj9GzadjtduHzNtnSsfYmaItW6bWEI2ckdUX7UwnOVhIQjbbgiazK3Xl7r5Gl__voXvhq-El6RdHOTz-6W0I0-yTVV4Lbvn4SsPODHuDxVlOsYTF-Qtl1eOpsK1rfBqRzuftCHM0s76qAqAprbF1T6MGTV8I2o/w289-h400/IMG_7743.JPG" width="289" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Swapping my long-sleeved top and vest for a t-shirt, saying my clothes can go in a laundry bag except my vest, “Put in a quick wash and fast spin please. I want to wear it at the finish!”. Val spun it round and round in the air for a bit, that’ll be that freshly laundered for later! </span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHXvuGCBhD4chhx0X2gg89ej2NbRFsCAvLBldp7WD8uDPNpGhC9Wiu4F7xS5BvYTYMiuwKo4bqFa1EcKSkxmOHh1PHq1ms8rVq2Iop1R6VvpavMCYIUvmD40XOAZ3_OdLrjNYTtIFI1vSHoGdQA-hmYA5U3mqkf0DDbwlAwAedULReNtPncnS0WZbmzpM/s2258/IMG_7746.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1644" data-original-width="2258" height="291" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHXvuGCBhD4chhx0X2gg89ej2NbRFsCAvLBldp7WD8uDPNpGhC9Wiu4F7xS5BvYTYMiuwKo4bqFa1EcKSkxmOHh1PHq1ms8rVq2Iop1R6VvpavMCYIUvmD40XOAZ3_OdLrjNYTtIFI1vSHoGdQA-hmYA5U3mqkf0DDbwlAwAedULReNtPncnS0WZbmzpM/w400-h291/IMG_7746.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Pauline hauled my tights off, shorts on, a check on my knee, just a few wee scuffs, I put my feet on the stool, Pauline wiped down my feet, applied Body Glide, and put my fresh socks on for me, while I spooned in a tub of rice pudding, Val rubbed Sunscreen on the back of my neck, arms and legs, Pauline noticed my bashed arm and offered another antiseptic wipe, and asking where I fell. “On the ground!” was my reply, I was happy to give them a laugh as I declined the offer, the one stingy wipe I used earlier was fine thank you. (I think the answer Pauline was looking for was, “Near the Milarrochy Tree.” A slick transition second to none, I was back on the trail within 10 minutes. </span></span><div><span style="font-family: Arial;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD6XPRzmtLGw5KZCfEsJJKKIqanG-_Set4AaXS_gGGcg4sF-rTTB8lF6BVPtYy2On7Jrc02vOXpI4MTCVf5y8i-jlzSgoYzsbYceupKx3c-URAV4YxyzKJ8O1LGBEEWes2Km7_vgOFEy8Xwk3ucW3qjwa-ORAfebsya1W9HNhr7ANjXJBnfsbJ0GPtE-A/s1676/IMG_7749.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1676" data-original-width="1520" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD6XPRzmtLGw5KZCfEsJJKKIqanG-_Set4AaXS_gGGcg4sF-rTTB8lF6BVPtYy2On7Jrc02vOXpI4MTCVf5y8i-jlzSgoYzsbYceupKx3c-URAV4YxyzKJ8O1LGBEEWes2Km7_vgOFEy8Xwk3ucW3qjwa-ORAfebsya1W9HNhr7ANjXJBnfsbJ0GPtE-A/w363-h400/IMG_7749.JPG" width="363" /></a></div></span><span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">On my schedule I wasn’t due to arrive in Auchtertyre for around seven or eight hours so Val and Pauline could head off for a bit of down-time and breakfast before going to the checkpoint. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">The road from Drymen to Balloch was closed for repairs so Val and Pauline drove round by Callander, it was only around 9 miles/15 minutes longer and a lot less stressful than squeezing by the tour buses on the narrow, winding A82, I believe this will be the route of choice from now on. Even after 20 years of supporting, crews never stop learning, they even had time for a tea-break and a stroll in Callander. A relaxed and rested crew is a successful crew bringing the best out in their runner too. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">I tootled along the lochside not worrying about the slow pace, there’s not a lot of running going on, I stick in a few paces when I can, the scrambling, big steps up, over and down the rough, eroded path holding on to boulders and trees gives your running legs a rest and stretch. At Inversaid I pocketed a sachet of baby mac’n’cheese, and downed a wee bottle of flat coke from my drop-bag, I noticed Neil was standing at a table, eating crisps. In my book, that’s faffing, you can eat them on the move. “Come On!” I say as I go by, it’s not long before he catches up, he’s been have a rough patch and says he’s retiring after this year, of course, I dismiss this as the low point talking, we were more or less together all the way to Beinglas, it was a bit special, this was the most we’ve managed to chum each other in the process of earning thirty-four Goblets between us. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzDxCECBeKwpXT5k3u6YO2xdj7cYS524f2CEsVk1AguUXPJXHu93c9cPfJu_O2e5y4R1Ef4Ryh7WnmRohmSc0D_tfpcrN3vlKFR17HuZKRCb7VPygfyPvqIWFxBxWDeguWS7lm1wjVpHxQ3jpsCplDsSK_AS88DpZhqUcc1pf6eG2ZX_hj0peHIPn34Zo/s4283/IMG_0537.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3305" data-original-width="4283" height="309" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzDxCECBeKwpXT5k3u6YO2xdj7cYS524f2CEsVk1AguUXPJXHu93c9cPfJu_O2e5y4R1Ef4Ryh7WnmRohmSc0D_tfpcrN3vlKFR17HuZKRCb7VPygfyPvqIWFxBxWDeguWS7lm1wjVpHxQ3jpsCplDsSK_AS88DpZhqUcc1pf6eG2ZX_hj0peHIPn34Zo/w400-h309/IMG_0537.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE957Cz19QIx1cBHGFxthobOvQY4NjYe-8EvzYsMrB4hWU78lRj40bA3U9ceSW_lSdZ5sSZa_JyENKLMD7Mvdd24jhXMRShp_cjrpJ-HZ0SAO276cc3-c7fHkL3obIK34N8fxqxEEDWS80P79T3gMpIYl0zQIgzhI0gRUSJmrFxIRWZ5f78ONqMMXG1uQ/s3988/IMG_0540.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3063" data-original-width="3988" height="308" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE957Cz19QIx1cBHGFxthobOvQY4NjYe-8EvzYsMrB4hWU78lRj40bA3U9ceSW_lSdZ5sSZa_JyENKLMD7Mvdd24jhXMRShp_cjrpJ-HZ0SAO276cc3-c7fHkL3obIK34N8fxqxEEDWS80P79T3gMpIYl0zQIgzhI0gRUSJmrFxIRWZ5f78ONqMMXG1uQ/w400-h308/IMG_0540.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;">At Beinglas Julia and Chris Finill were there. It was a marvellous surprise to see them, and generous for Chris to take time out of his JOGLE to wish me well, it was technically a rest day for him but he had run along from Crianlairich to Beinglas to see me through, he’s not using the easiest or shortest route but working through the prettiest route having already come along the Great Glen Way and now heading down the West Highland Way on his way south, although Chris is not focussing on speed during his challenge he is no stranger to it, having represented GB at 24 hours and a London Marathon ever present also a Guinness Record holder for having run 33 consecutive sub 3 hour London marathons. </span><p></p><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXQEeLdHNOS3deqK_nX3d5SCNnO6tkFYkcEE0pfq8XJSUXwnbTg1zQ1ryZlfmmwbknf3G27VFaJ-VpUps0CIgRzbviM3kFykwRhzKgsBrxga6e2kbTsv6iNH1wz7vOqxigSg707TJ6XvfdGAnIFtGywhpni3lri-bQdKpKlsOcgjhsSZ71HD1sBgklEZk/s3955/IMG_0549.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3211" data-original-width="3955" height="325" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXQEeLdHNOS3deqK_nX3d5SCNnO6tkFYkcEE0pfq8XJSUXwnbTg1zQ1ryZlfmmwbknf3G27VFaJ-VpUps0CIgRzbviM3kFykwRhzKgsBrxga6e2kbTsv6iNH1wz7vOqxigSg707TJ6XvfdGAnIFtGywhpni3lri-bQdKpKlsOcgjhsSZ71HD1sBgklEZk/w400-h325/IMG_0549.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;">It was a lovely boost to see old friends, and I set off smiling. It was now after midday, still very warm although there were hazy light clouds preventing the sun beating down, I kept a steady pace so as not to get too hot in what was possibly the warmest time of day as I made my way past Derrydarroch and not coo poo alley, I wholehearted approve of the veritable carpet of that path improvement now compared to the old days! Then into the trees of the roller-coaster and on to cross the road, where, thankfully I didn’t have to wait too long until the traffic cleared enough for me to scurry across.</span></div><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">I nipped into the toilet at Auchtertyre, it was lovely to use a proper loo, be all civilised and have a wee freshen up, washing my face in cool water from a running tap was so refreshing before going to the checkpoint and having my big squishy hug with Robin. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Again Pauline and Val were ready for me, I was looking forward to my soup and new shoes! Technically not brand new shoes, but a change is as good as a rest, the two pairs I was wearing this year were the same two pairs I wore last year and still in good condition, I'm fairly light on my feet and get a lot more wear from my shoes than manufacturers advise. I see no need to change what isn’t broken. I enjoyed my cream of chicken soup heated to perfect temperature with a wee sprinkle of salt. (I don’t usually add any but it has been warm.) </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlalhxS_Bv5g1MLR5mk8x0R1YQLUxNPA3dGyaGOYSaGv5BioivEKjVK-_i-dvF833ubv0Tcrn3whqOyXE1PO4ex-mm4Ile5g0UTLOQ30qErOF3JpSA8jBlJosFImy-UBSowagJZOVxwayQ_Nc94niPcWCgp5Kkd8Ecbdw0I5oF59ZmFkxqDbqR7xz63B0/s1905/Ben%20Hopkins.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="1905" height="303" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlalhxS_Bv5g1MLR5mk8x0R1YQLUxNPA3dGyaGOYSaGv5BioivEKjVK-_i-dvF833ubv0Tcrn3whqOyXE1PO4ex-mm4Ile5g0UTLOQ30qErOF3JpSA8jBlJosFImy-UBSowagJZOVxwayQ_Nc94niPcWCgp5Kkd8Ecbdw0I5oF59ZmFkxqDbqR7xz63B0/w400-h303/Ben%20Hopkins.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo - Ben Hopkin</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Now over halfway, fed, with a clean face and fresh feet I was in fine fettle and had Pauline for company. Wahey, let the fun continue! </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">It was great to blether and run with Pauline and find out news on how others were faring. At Tyndrum the fresh crew had arrived. Allan and Val swapped cars, Gillian was now in charge, with Allan, Jon and Neil following orders. </span></p><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYUGXV8VctRuXYxsrcqH1NDiaSBSINWtaNK9sN4fjjXohTsJYGFSA0wcz_sZSz4pFCEpyz0mv-ZDMP3DKX2Zzwo0m8r6lmYRO4NarGDmKru-QdsK1yX53VsLer-v7cMsAscAcsFrbLVUPtNZRQnu3TOWOB8-UN9FRbQKC7FYoN-Yg85lrHRfQePO-flZ0/s2587/IMG_7802.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1998" data-original-width="2587" height="309" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYUGXV8VctRuXYxsrcqH1NDiaSBSINWtaNK9sN4fjjXohTsJYGFSA0wcz_sZSz4pFCEpyz0mv-ZDMP3DKX2Zzwo0m8r6lmYRO4NarGDmKru-QdsK1yX53VsLer-v7cMsAscAcsFrbLVUPtNZRQnu3TOWOB8-UN9FRbQKC7FYoN-Yg85lrHRfQePO-flZ0/w400-h309/IMG_7802.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Along to Bridge of Orchy Pauline and I were with Donna and her support, Sylvia for a wee while, Donna was having a bit of struggle at that point and looked fairly uncomfortable but Sylvia wasn’t taking any nonsense and kept Donna moving forwards, Sylvia wasn’t taking a no from me either, having noticed my scabby elbow insisted I should have a couple of dressings on it and slapped some on despite me saying it was fine. Good call, thanks Sylvia, my long sleeved top didn’t stick to my bashed bits when I put it on later.</span></div><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Val was at Bridge of Orchy waiting to pick up Pauline from her running stint before they finally stood down and headed to our accommodation in Fort Bill for a well deserved relaxing evening, starting with a shower, a “ping” dinner, a bottle of wine ( I didn’t know they were having wine until the following day but I wouldn’t have grudged them, it was well deserved) and a comfy bed. A crew's first priority is to look after themselves and not run themselves ragged looking after their runner, support have the hardest job! </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">At the checkpoint I had two courses, finishing what was left of my chicken soup, then some rice pudding for dessert and </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">the pièce de résistance, my first mug of coffee in over three weeks! (I’ve been doing this for a number of years now and almost guarantees I fly up Rannoch Moor!) </span></p><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp6POkNANJvZ5jXujwKOB3bLOo7Fp6S57QXf3UaAsbYkILMIR-b5n-PA1Dyy4osV4TPfAXdp1ubio_nWSa1ZzkhJNXCKdK3NkBMGr5KzyqgOezZDAV-rRTzN362lOozgiXtJFhhD8T5weCnOU1HZBJJFxTd3XqO4uahGQxLwGDtn5GsY2AbQtfohewzZQ/s1496/Allan%20Macaulay.jpg8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="884" data-original-width="1496" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp6POkNANJvZ5jXujwKOB3bLOo7Fp6S57QXf3UaAsbYkILMIR-b5n-PA1Dyy4osV4TPfAXdp1ubio_nWSa1ZzkhJNXCKdK3NkBMGr5KzyqgOezZDAV-rRTzN362lOozgiXtJFhhD8T5weCnOU1HZBJJFxTd3XqO4uahGQxLwGDtn5GsY2AbQtfohewzZQ/w400-h236/Allan%20Macaulay.jpg8.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Now with mug in hand and Allan for company, we head up and over Jelly Baby hill, </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Mike is doing a grand job with his Jelly Babies, it’s a long shift. Thanks for being there. </span></div><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRgiNaExM0W7yUGPotXEc_y0_ULJX12nOAlHxX3Z6tLYx7vAP8sPkFUTDXJcGgrtVwsGdsZVFaGxGarEjytb9vkU9LYALluekGdvDc-zGzu-uepXDF8Zb6_FfY-GZL3Pzk5rr8b7BSlW99pjD319ZaLgpCsgKjlH9T8eAF09Q_X7xs2alp8hxnyEPUHqg/s1457/Allan%20Macaulay.jpg7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1457" data-original-width="1038" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRgiNaExM0W7yUGPotXEc_y0_ULJX12nOAlHxX3Z6tLYx7vAP8sPkFUTDXJcGgrtVwsGdsZVFaGxGarEjytb9vkU9LYALluekGdvDc-zGzu-uepXDF8Zb6_FfY-GZL3Pzk5rr8b7BSlW99pjD319ZaLgpCsgKjlH9T8eAF09Q_X7xs2alp8hxnyEPUHqg/w285-h400/Allan%20Macaulay.jpg7.jpg" width="285" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;">It’s not very runnable, either up or down, on the descent to Inveroran the path was just dust and loose stones, with brief moments of unintentional skitey scree running, not the best moves when I was still trying to save my quads for later! Once on the tarmac we shuffled a run to Victoria Bridge, Gillian and Jon were waiting with some more of my rice pudding, </span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxd7CipDfI9YqpBXyHgQdS0b3_bwNVtnPSRIA-6L6CGlHF8LJFKkfKeQCLwNxi8FmmrAoPXyhsjwCSbdOBSHHkxTh1EPyWN501YLZiovWB2uApyOS_6y5JG6mScmI5pfePxBW0G-uVcCl8ohyowqdCY4do6h6FuNZYe1dDnrTaOahhTacz3Bi56H78Dl4/s1276/Allan%20Macaulay.jpg6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="852" data-original-width="1276" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxd7CipDfI9YqpBXyHgQdS0b3_bwNVtnPSRIA-6L6CGlHF8LJFKkfKeQCLwNxi8FmmrAoPXyhsjwCSbdOBSHHkxTh1EPyWN501YLZiovWB2uApyOS_6y5JG6mScmI5pfePxBW0G-uVcCl8ohyowqdCY4do6h6FuNZYe1dDnrTaOahhTacz3Bi56H78Dl4/w400-h268/Allan%20Macaulay.jpg6.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Gillian swapped with Allan and was coming with me over Rannoch Moor. It is a long gradual slog of a climb with more of a march-with-purpose than running. It was great to catch up since we haven’t seen each other in ages. When we weren't too far away from the steeper climb towards the Peter Fleming Cairn I was delighted to see Donna looking strong and moving smoothly as she went past us. I didn't doubt she’d come through her difficult patch. </span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Once past the Cairn I have a wee giggle to myself heading down to the Glencoe Ski Resort, anticipating my sweary rant at the path that deviates from the West Highland Way route to the checkpoint. Before 2010 Kingshouse was the checkpoint, but with more runners and support crews it made perfect sense to move it up to the Glencoe Centre with loads more space for crews to park but I do like my wee traditions and insulting that pile of rubble that masquerades as a path is one of them! </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">I’m not a fan of deviating from the racing line and insist on my crew parking as close to the checkpoint at the bottom of the car park as possible, I see no point in wandering up the incline just to come back down afterwards, but since I was planning to change from my t-shirt and shorts to long-sleeves and capri length tights, it made sense to head up to the cafe rather than stand and strip down to my underwear in a chilly car park also the use a proper loo would be good too. Gillian and I headed up with a handful of fresh clothes and were puzzled to not be able to find the toilets, I didn’t realise they had moved since the fire destroyed the building in December 2019. A huge arrow pointed to the repositioned lavvies! Yes, back down the hill and practically level with where we were parked! Aw fer fu..faff.fu..fuffetyitfeck! Oh, well, never mind, it was nice to get changed in a warm environment before heading back to the car, I sat in the chair having my Beef Broth while Gillian did my feet with strict instruction from Pauline to floss between my toes with a wet wipe (there is no benefit for me in this process but crew get to laugh at me squirm) before applying Body Glide and fresh socks. This was my third and final sock change. It was worth the couple of minutes each time to proactively have my feet pampered, I finished with just one small blister on the side of my left big toe. </span></p><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh26oH8XmbwqiLgEuTDXbaeyDSDB9iL22wOYWYg5d5MgbrSELLFIc4GGlgiLCQtO_gCUTR5Eav7qySsDUkL-H76es_w8ZmjUb6xm9w9FZuO79t8Inh1XES5bEaP6nFxPZIB9zSLMfc-3tzvqPRYg3DgiAk4ka2qLAFQVLKzsdYD_s7NjazhR8s6BtYAyN4/s859/Neil%20Anderson.jpg2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="859" data-original-width="668" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh26oH8XmbwqiLgEuTDXbaeyDSDB9iL22wOYWYg5d5MgbrSELLFIc4GGlgiLCQtO_gCUTR5Eav7qySsDUkL-H76es_w8ZmjUb6xm9w9FZuO79t8Inh1XES5bEaP6nFxPZIB9zSLMfc-3tzvqPRYg3DgiAk4ka2qLAFQVLKzsdYD_s7NjazhR8s6BtYAyN4/w311-h400/Neil%20Anderson.jpg2.jpg" width="311" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Neil was ready to go with me as soon as I was sorted, we needed our head torches on leaving after that major faff, it’s been a good few years since it was a goal to be over the Devil’s Staircase before needing to put a torch on, but I’m not disappointed, I’m still here and moving well. Another tradition of mine is to wear the same blue fleece from Glencoe since I first wore it during my PB in 2007, it’s full of good vibes, although this year it was just tied round my waist, the weather never got cold enough to put it on. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Neil and I had a fine steady pace blethering all the way up and over the Devil’s Staircase and </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;">“Are we here already!” Was something I never thought I’d hear myself say crossing the bridge before the wee climb towards Kinlochleven. </span></div><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">At the checkpoint I got my big hug from Julie and my team had my porridge ready, it was placed on a comfy seat, “Oh, I don’t want to sit down!” Julie clocked me with my arse on the chair but it was only for the few minutes it took my shovel in a pot of porridge, she knows I don’t do sit down. My stomach was starting to do the Do-I-feel-sick-or-hungry thing. Best thing is to give it something to help make up its mind. Neil and I didn’t need our head torches when we left, and I’m afraid I never noticed if there was a gorgeous sunrise this morning. It was head down and haul myself up the longest climb on the West Highland Way, my watch dinged a mile split, 34 minutes! “Ooft, as fast as that!”, I’m glad I looked after my quads getting here and took a mental note to do more hill work in future. </span></p><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8iHHC3gc_LWqvZQD2Ad6uorN9q_0sF8bTfsJzp4qb_5CFhc0wf4NaSHZPkB5TjMG20-MNRDrBdzCpjXgpzf6BJMlju2LkxGsTjUCT88W7xeMlT2v97bnUhtHEkMM_ojXrLRP_4GU-v8UmngwYQyGq-25uKSoUUW6Vt5XdHva_dp5Aa20JU5xMqbDOfxg/s1719/Neil%20Anderson.jpg4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1719" data-original-width="1435" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8iHHC3gc_LWqvZQD2Ad6uorN9q_0sF8bTfsJzp4qb_5CFhc0wf4NaSHZPkB5TjMG20-MNRDrBdzCpjXgpzf6BJMlju2LkxGsTjUCT88W7xeMlT2v97bnUhtHEkMM_ojXrLRP_4GU-v8UmngwYQyGq-25uKSoUUW6Vt5XdHva_dp5Aa20JU5xMqbDOfxg/w334-h400/Neil%20Anderson.jpg4.jpg" width="334" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Along Lairig Mor the quality of my chat took a nosedive but Neil’s made up for it, as much as my guts felt like they were going through rough seas. My legs were making good headway, pulling it in. I just slowly sipped a banana and honey milkshake. The breeze was on our backs, we were so lucky with the weather this year. Others might disagree but for me it was just perfect, it was a first for me wearing shorts and t-shirt in the1600 plus miles of my running this race! </span></div><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">At Lundavra I usually have a mug of hot chocolate with added coffee but I’m glad I had the foresight to say at Kinlochleven I didn’t think I’d manage it and can I have a mug of Horlicks instead, and I went through the final checkpoint the same way as the first, without breaking stride, although I was a lot less spritely, if I paused now, it would be difficult to get going again. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1NWQWu7UXdDeCs7Dnsz5uxNW-nVT3oR_pcuyzSSo_MCPMItWkkAQuMgRl7UFtsGX1ZenvI8-4e_n9s0MqTrPqCxKqD7t5_ThXYlHEbN29LdNNNZmglq5_q7eLKvW-wsVDIad72ZGsjkigcUjIyhRFYAU2yi37kfS5tWQ72ddbcZAFlTzV-H-U3XtbGWE/s2000/Allan%20Macaulay.jpg4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="2000" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1NWQWu7UXdDeCs7Dnsz5uxNW-nVT3oR_pcuyzSSo_MCPMItWkkAQuMgRl7UFtsGX1ZenvI8-4e_n9s0MqTrPqCxKqD7t5_ThXYlHEbN29LdNNNZmglq5_q7eLKvW-wsVDIad72ZGsjkigcUjIyhRFYAU2yi37kfS5tWQ72ddbcZAFlTzV-H-U3XtbGWE/w640-h288/Allan%20Macaulay.jpg4.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;">The last leg has some climbs and descents, and what once upon a time was known to us as the spooky woods, became a scarred and barren landscape after the trees were harvested, and a few years later its green growth is now lush, fresh and vibrant. I’ve seen a few changes over the years and I try to embrace them all as the route evolves, but Hell’s bells and buckets of blood! What's with all the work on the loooong descent of the fire road down to the Braveheart car park? Didn’t they know there was a race on? Surely the repairs and “improvements” of the track could’ve waited until after mid June! At least it has a year to bed down before I’m on it again. Pauline and Val had walked out from Braveheart to meet us and see us through. We had a long striding smooth walk with a good cadence over all the loose chucky stones down to the road. Just before Pauline got back in the car to drive to the finish, her parting shot was Graham isn’t too far ahead if I wanted to try and catch him. Ha, ha, Pauline had always been more competitive than me, I wasn’t biting, we’re all just finishing our own race, in our own way. </span><p></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Once on the pavement, I found my running legs for the final mile and a half-ish to the Nevis Centre, Neil stayed by my side until we approached the road crossing, he put on a spurt to press the button, stopping the traffic so I was able to cross taking a diagonal line over without losing momentum. my head up, elbows working a strong stride, full steam ahead, my finishing sprint in full flow. Just before the train station we saw Graham walking ahead with a full complement of Haddington runners, luckily one of them saw me and instigated a run, I giggled as I thought “Wahey, well done Graham! Keep it up or get out the way, I’m at ramming speed!” I’m glad to say he pushed on. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Round the station, past the buses, across the car park and along the side of the Nevis Centre and into the hall. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKYqsidi0IquMJU6ioiQnfOYPI-8tCa7kNdO84wgC6gWsIyRTx7_V3o1FoI886iyPv4k07UIqtoXivLmgoGMq00_HCcJCKKhje1fyfTHZzzQtHWQfvo6DcUy9Ndmm8rSjAV3_ANPxtpfvSWSWRTvTSH4S4ni3QaDlMZjD7QDMa5SGuo9gq2YEn93tFSlQ/s1818/IMG_7806.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1629" data-original-width="1818" height="359" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKYqsidi0IquMJU6ioiQnfOYPI-8tCa7kNdO84wgC6gWsIyRTx7_V3o1FoI886iyPv4k07UIqtoXivLmgoGMq00_HCcJCKKhje1fyfTHZzzQtHWQfvo6DcUy9Ndmm8rSjAV3_ANPxtpfvSWSWRTvTSH4S4ni3QaDlMZjD7QDMa5SGuo9gq2YEn93tFSlQ/w400-h359/IMG_7806.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Arms aloft! WOOOOO! Straight into the arms of Ruth, she held me tight until my emotions were under control. </span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMJ9euYI24lkSKLhpMv6gQlGmf5pHBgix-UCRkIT5qxRpklemz2DJMM9TsFJsfsy46OR7hx07Nc0x9lG0I_pqEZTibykCinOb-IAFaGqILm7TJyiSOwd4t_w0U7w7mYW-QvllC0Kanzdt04qi7OG12KwlqElt2xR-pb4ui06T9h_Wq1_-Zi32n-AyM7Ak/s2170/IMG_7808.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1558" data-original-width="2170" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMJ9euYI24lkSKLhpMv6gQlGmf5pHBgix-UCRkIT5qxRpklemz2DJMM9TsFJsfsy46OR7hx07Nc0x9lG0I_pqEZTibykCinOb-IAFaGqILm7TJyiSOwd4t_w0U7w7mYW-QvllC0Kanzdt04qi7OG12KwlqElt2xR-pb4ui06T9h_Wq1_-Zi32n-AyM7Ak/w400-h288/IMG_7808.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;">I was surprised to be told I was the first person to complete 17 West Highland Way Races, Wow! I thought Neil had finished, the last time I saw him he was ahead going into Glencoe, but he wasn’t too long in bringing home his 17th Goblet. I was glad to see him come in before we headed to our accommodation for a lovely long shower followed by breakfast. Robin joined us and treated me to my scrambled egg on toast. The breakfast of champions and those who knew they needed to eat something but weren't sure what. </span><p></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">The prizegiving was the special family gathering of love and support that can’t easily be put into words. Cheers, hugs, tears and Goblets. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuTQO17ildKCLcHMwCnETgH7r0t2UYDTc4SWMqJbPz5TRR3kBd5RfUWCnwx2IB3Ckn8MFmN3A4eHvSpSevz-0sehjvLSac_WiOCWqYuoDgAWiXSvmVi095HlKmCOfHCjfx1FTT7WEp3TQmySKNRRXFczF88LNhSmA03iz13gUo7ALJYfLCxFBIIiFgFCw/s2319/IMG_7817.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1925" data-original-width="2319" height="333" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuTQO17ildKCLcHMwCnETgH7r0t2UYDTc4SWMqJbPz5TRR3kBd5RfUWCnwx2IB3Ckn8MFmN3A4eHvSpSevz-0sehjvLSac_WiOCWqYuoDgAWiXSvmVi095HlKmCOfHCjfx1FTT7WEp3TQmySKNRRXFczF88LNhSmA03iz13gUo7ALJYfLCxFBIIiFgFCw/w400-h333/IMG_7817.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">34 Goblets between us</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;">This year there were 171 Goblets presented, with the ceremony brought to a close with the first finisher (16.35.31 hours) presenting the final finisher (34.22.17 hours) with their Goblet. Each one going home to pride of place on a mantelpiece or cabinet. They may be given to individuals but were earned by a dedicated team willing to give up their time to enable dreams to be realised. Thank you to each and everyone of you for helping me celebrate what I have achieved. I can't do it without you. From Ian and his core team who is probably still winding up the final details of this year before starting organising next year. Every medic, marshal and volunteer, making sure all the runners get through checkpoints safely. Also every individual support crew, looking out for not just their own runner but willing to help others. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn0IYy2fb56ZptEdOUTBs3z_YV6U67tlUMi5Cm1f_iCVqw-nNXXuHbJE0Ak0vaWNRB9FI_ahNKcdF6Kwrcol2E_rCA35ogs7KoBNzGqlM16kWhvKqQjXHjPS5ipFjECHvfuAQsaQ5rlGMK-ytLqAGJlCcEn69xRNliDVr3SmXGE7XiMdLmDZnXA6lQopE/s2114/IMG_7819.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1471" data-original-width="2114" height="279" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn0IYy2fb56ZptEdOUTBs3z_YV6U67tlUMi5Cm1f_iCVqw-nNXXuHbJE0Ak0vaWNRB9FI_ahNKcdF6Kwrcol2E_rCA35ogs7KoBNzGqlM16kWhvKqQjXHjPS5ipFjECHvfuAQsaQ5rlGMK-ytLqAGJlCcEn69xRNliDVr3SmXGE7XiMdLmDZnXA6lQopE/w400-h279/IMG_7819.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Finally to my crew, Pauline, Val, Allan, Gillian, Jon and Neil, you all pandered to my Diva Demands, taking loads of photos and giving me more memories to cherish… What are you doing next year? </span><p></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div>Fiona Renniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18268067089290474811noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475346168209566942.post-36232578409397239842023-05-22T18:57:00.004+00:002023-05-23T08:16:36.781+00:00Moray Coastal Trail 50<p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">At the beginning of the year, I was looking for an ultra to make a good long run before this year’s West Highland Way Race, and the Moray Coastal 50 looked promising, I was a wee bit concerned with just five weeks between the two races, it might be a wee bit too close for me, but looking at the route, it’s awfy bonnie, isn’t too technical underfoot with no monster climbs, also a generous time limit of 16 hours. Sue was eyeing it up too, so we entered. </span></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-87556198-7fff-a95d-3a65-b007643ebc73"><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">After watching Debbie and Kyle’s race briefing a few days before the race, the description of the route didn’t mean anything to me, so I decided to put the GPX file on my watch. I've never done this before but thought it might be useful since I’m not familiar with the area or been on the route before. As much as I’ve had a watch with all the bells and whistles for quite a while, I tend to just press go when I start and stop when I finish, so I suppose it’s good to get the hang of some of the technology available to me, but I don’t have the inclination to find out what all the numbers blurb on the app mean, I’ve been running to feel for thirty-eight years, and I’m not going to let a whippersnapper attached to my wrist tell me how to run! But what I do love about having a clever watch is after a run, being able to look at a map of where I’ve been, then the route makes sense to me. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We had accommodation in Portknockie and arrived early Friday afternoon, in time to have lunch in Cullen (of course it was Cullen Skink! My favourite). </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAsPOeK0MWpronXzD47oK62rYZCgZxt3kutgbRVLtoAVa7QCbfMqTmEwWeFCYdAnsjTPDu5moZEDey8w_Z_Tr7sfzgG0LEkoJVA2oL4V_Wvt6ytZyea0U8UcFM1QgeFzHd09SfdgP-_XHHVLesCPDeJw236_Je3jchsl1T_41m-Vsr5LkZeB_diPLx/s4362/IMG_7487.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3074" data-original-width="4362" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAsPOeK0MWpronXzD47oK62rYZCgZxt3kutgbRVLtoAVa7QCbfMqTmEwWeFCYdAnsjTPDu5moZEDey8w_Z_Tr7sfzgG0LEkoJVA2oL4V_Wvt6ytZyea0U8UcFM1QgeFzHd09SfdgP-_XHHVLesCPDeJw236_Je3jchsl1T_41m-Vsr5LkZeB_diPLx/w400-h283/IMG_7487.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBpYcnPad4vgjzsXL9_OZ921AwzNRZYTvl9_-dAOl3i-YoF6M6lGGgxCfSVzwh31Nb_RPOjUQIjNACEFtZ20MTxcF5rfvn6JSmU439tykhlUyMntSs-ETHN3yQtyzHNSwbPno1nVVeuKUhlLe-GocxMEWrq_c4UN6xTKhQ7OEu0UWZQOzK7Lr1fV2T/s4465/IMG_7567.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2978" data-original-width="4465" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBpYcnPad4vgjzsXL9_OZ921AwzNRZYTvl9_-dAOl3i-YoF6M6lGGgxCfSVzwh31Nb_RPOjUQIjNACEFtZ20MTxcF5rfvn6JSmU439tykhlUyMntSs-ETHN3yQtyzHNSwbPno1nVVeuKUhlLe-GocxMEWrq_c4UN6xTKhQ7OEu0UWZQOzK7Lr1fV2T/w400-h266/IMG_7567.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">We had a wee walk around the Bow Fiddle Rock and harbour to stretch the legs, and a wee practice of getting the gist of the GPX on my watch, then a chilled out evening, (just one Guinness) before preparing for an early start, a 4.00am alarm, loads of porridge, Ken was happy (or pretended he was) to get up early and drive us to Forres for the 6.00am registration. I tried to keep the faffing to a minimum before a 7.00am start. </span><p></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It was a misty morning and Windy Wilson promised a roasty toasty day for most of Scotland so hopefully it will burn off soon and we’ll be working on our runners tan. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB5byejsxUqBZgS6WiBb13FCaA897Xg8tFco5yMPAZCv8puxi17iQDkpE9jj7xnrK5BcDwN43k5lBWZBUyayExSATmbj-_A1xnU-SVKkMoS49vje4FZ8UHaIga2l3yK0LLIKGtZpWvg3OvsqUIKC83ooA4uF6codFGjb2doNMtdmAO4HMSlZfO3tGe/s2098/IMG_7587.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1667" data-original-width="2098" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB5byejsxUqBZgS6WiBb13FCaA897Xg8tFco5yMPAZCv8puxi17iQDkpE9jj7xnrK5BcDwN43k5lBWZBUyayExSATmbj-_A1xnU-SVKkMoS49vje4FZ8UHaIga2l3yK0LLIKGtZpWvg3OvsqUIKC83ooA4uF6codFGjb2doNMtdmAO4HMSlZfO3tGe/w400-h318/IMG_7587.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>A lone piper in the mist set the scene for the start of a race. After a few words from Kyle, we were sent on our way. </span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4spXpAfl2fdJ6U0cb-rHwOlT3u7cXJsIwEFjs0r5cO38xY-WeLXrG3rhksxtEroxh-lIHGAly60HacXooKuVquWA9Gqf5_zab0JZadtoNnQzB_JOaV8vwzH3kDgpDGKRD9aVsgS0XBtGima6_ox8Nx9rMS8XHx_LEHlhlS4V-rUv57h56NVJRonKB/s2048/Stuart%20Ross%20Media1.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1153" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4spXpAfl2fdJ6U0cb-rHwOlT3u7cXJsIwEFjs0r5cO38xY-WeLXrG3rhksxtEroxh-lIHGAly60HacXooKuVquWA9Gqf5_zab0JZadtoNnQzB_JOaV8vwzH3kDgpDGKRD9aVsgS0XBtGima6_ox8Nx9rMS8XHx_LEHlhlS4V-rUv57h56NVJRonKB/w400-h225/Stuart%20Ross%20Media1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo from Stuart Ross</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">The first 6-ish miles were on tarmac, Ken was at Findhorn to give us a wave before he headed off for some Cullen Skink and a round of golf at Cullen. </span><p></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQWxJzX7tREPbnff7yBx_s9f6aTVoDEAY9ikELVL-x7VW8uecc6yi83wWH49sLC7rtcw1hCuyQPF0w_z1bMr-BVO3ST6-EapIsv-zmwdifDHIlKK26GfVXa4ZZiTPhUTTrTVXIeLq9LlHayruEb-OJV2_4Oj3eJDJnvPMix1L_fsf5asunrHBo1kAQ/s1581/IMG_7601.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1144" data-original-width="1581" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQWxJzX7tREPbnff7yBx_s9f6aTVoDEAY9ikELVL-x7VW8uecc6yi83wWH49sLC7rtcw1hCuyQPF0w_z1bMr-BVO3ST6-EapIsv-zmwdifDHIlKK26GfVXa4ZZiTPhUTTrTVXIeLq9LlHayruEb-OJV2_4Oj3eJDJnvPMix1L_fsf5asunrHBo1kAQ/w400-h290/IMG_7601.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Sue and I have done a lot of long runs together and are fairly evenly matched pace wise but during races we tend to do our own thing with no pressure on each other to keep up if one of us is running well, but for this, our plan was to run together just having a grand day out, tourists on the hoof. From Findhorn I felt we were settling into the race, now scampering through dunes, it was lovely to see the piper again. </span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-rZfaIHLDuEhp8am98cEBAEzQoomZJgWaCb-iRJWn7lW4IJciWDdRsNQ6Wv1KgFBOPniXNzkxk9RUmUWOsKNKx7bg5B0tDI3kY3qjZMO9CA9L3s9mlWE6AaSpFNeTIsaHEjkMELFSt6lkr1viQ09iF-EdLJG4_IaTx3iQ1Y4ZtHwMNdBobXw0n5n2/s1450/IMG_7621.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1052" data-original-width="1450" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-rZfaIHLDuEhp8am98cEBAEzQoomZJgWaCb-iRJWn7lW4IJciWDdRsNQ6Wv1KgFBOPniXNzkxk9RUmUWOsKNKx7bg5B0tDI3kY3qjZMO9CA9L3s9mlWE6AaSpFNeTIsaHEjkMELFSt6lkr1viQ09iF-EdLJG4_IaTx3iQ1Y4ZtHwMNdBobXw0n5n2/w400-h290/IMG_7621.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHTn2dT2UY3YX2Ljzo6f8vOMzdm2dKMcaAd1oiwcKMunugrColrUP6sgIrGTZ9fAALWPH1pV8PocvVoT1lJj7ejeCA1j0GoRDMiuXbT2g20sMwcO7BE1ZtYg2n8ivUsuuGSWA0SmcPwT5bGc-c8RRBiHwPOKb3hlLQMdKoOkuATQ772h1Jeid8Yg_8/s1875/IMG_7630.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1410" data-original-width="1875" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHTn2dT2UY3YX2Ljzo6f8vOMzdm2dKMcaAd1oiwcKMunugrColrUP6sgIrGTZ9fAALWPH1pV8PocvVoT1lJj7ejeCA1j0GoRDMiuXbT2g20sMwcO7BE1ZtYg2n8ivUsuuGSWA0SmcPwT5bGc-c8RRBiHwPOKb3hlLQMdKoOkuATQ772h1Jeid8Yg_8/w400-h301/IMG_7630.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p>What a beautiful route, with a meander through forest trails to the first aid station with our drop bags, </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">then on through coastal villages, bonny beaches, cliff top paths with the haar coming and going between the sunshine. </span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmSsTEGl8HdoR0rHj5lhprJX0KKq9PqUkHyLcKm_ftifjdgEeTj3dnZELBYSrzzaVHhrAQjlAmwuQRHUYXGtfXFN6QsFtQmYAhPEUX-P0NKw1c7RfxPpu_Jw4BIbju668xzqGXJjKL-iHAt5KTlqSGz0f-iOUFmK5jhQ9ENXvbVELgWUe6-3K0l7VJ/s2163/IMG_7732.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1412" data-original-width="2163" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmSsTEGl8HdoR0rHj5lhprJX0KKq9PqUkHyLcKm_ftifjdgEeTj3dnZELBYSrzzaVHhrAQjlAmwuQRHUYXGtfXFN6QsFtQmYAhPEUX-P0NKw1c7RfxPpu_Jw4BIbju668xzqGXJjKL-iHAt5KTlqSGz0f-iOUFmK5jhQ9ENXvbVELgWUe6-3K0l7VJ/w400-h261/IMG_7732.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy_EkiwTGVZ9Vkh4t8vN5z6qIwWEYXQawi4Y_i1rJdD_r7WFx95o_pnLA1Sqq7ZZecgkEedi_yI2WxCDq88aZen9h1rbGzvKwWriHyZVGn_PB2AvTSdOJolgLsPTU0Iyyie7vAoaAxdjT1EgXKigujrS82eDJr1R0dJ6Spa1V2_RImgjgk11unLlSL/s4163/IMG_8091.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3248" data-original-width="4163" height="313" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy_EkiwTGVZ9Vkh4t8vN5z6qIwWEYXQawi4Y_i1rJdD_r7WFx95o_pnLA1Sqq7ZZecgkEedi_yI2WxCDq88aZen9h1rbGzvKwWriHyZVGn_PB2AvTSdOJolgLsPTU0Iyyie7vAoaAxdjT1EgXKigujrS82eDJr1R0dJ6Spa1V2_RImgjgk11unLlSL/w400-h313/IMG_8091.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEXcXxERZTBw3DQLy3JnH6jDhnLChBW2OsG4_0RIDeNKCwnOD_5ya0nnx83a9pOCUMdjAY8CRKrdQXujGK9at5Yjxieg4gsW4ytRwwZ0bCn8AMiBGLfZ6ZE7Km00nF1RX-9q1AjdwuEdWyDKhh-zry3u6-GkS_q9QEMc26RsQaOoVolwigj_NPYzOs/s4113/IMG_8106.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4113" data-original-width="3480" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEXcXxERZTBw3DQLy3JnH6jDhnLChBW2OsG4_0RIDeNKCwnOD_5ya0nnx83a9pOCUMdjAY8CRKrdQXujGK9at5Yjxieg4gsW4ytRwwZ0bCn8AMiBGLfZ6ZE7Km00nF1RX-9q1AjdwuEdWyDKhh-zry3u6-GkS_q9QEMc26RsQaOoVolwigj_NPYzOs/w339-h400/IMG_8106.JPG" width="339" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju7abQVRJHV0Ub7H7BUodgwVwsMCJx7jAWdWiix1uJgXJ0y0w6eUsHufVzSElriUsLUrC1Tt-N-0TzijAzf1Rl3dSemIEv8ZOpClqbvjFmOF9a2Ud7Erw1PxojzpfM-hfHugfDC9bu8wqhU4a42zK-fzba19iFJfyj3xth6EBCiHDYCp6WomsXMDMG/s2167/IMG_8338.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1528" data-original-width="2167" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju7abQVRJHV0Ub7H7BUodgwVwsMCJx7jAWdWiix1uJgXJ0y0w6eUsHufVzSElriUsLUrC1Tt-N-0TzijAzf1Rl3dSemIEv8ZOpClqbvjFmOF9a2Ud7Erw1PxojzpfM-hfHugfDC9bu8wqhU4a42zK-fzba19iFJfyj3xth6EBCiHDYCp6WomsXMDMG/w400-h283/IMG_8338.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglVdFHkGCJVzwgRdDjKXBRnzPrCGZ52E-173khnyK7AOKP2f2jW88bajEwA_WQKftYIYNsPIwfr8rBrIulNK-SrUk68kQb9C-mlHWwx-WXC8oLOcXIKAn5WosiVY497qlxkEjZYnqBVZsIHlG76XLoyuefx_-sCvCvqz2jc_JP3F2Eg25pezljifgP/s1803/IMG_8191.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1303" data-original-width="1803" height="289" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglVdFHkGCJVzwgRdDjKXBRnzPrCGZ52E-173khnyK7AOKP2f2jW88bajEwA_WQKftYIYNsPIwfr8rBrIulNK-SrUk68kQb9C-mlHWwx-WXC8oLOcXIKAn5WosiVY497qlxkEjZYnqBVZsIHlG76XLoyuefx_-sCvCvqz2jc_JP3F2Eg25pezljifgP/w400-h289/IMG_8191.JPG" width="400" /></a></div></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: 11pt;">It never got really roasty toasty although my arm warmers came off and my sleeves folded up, with the damp air and a gentle breeze, it was pretty much perfect conditions for running. </span></div></span><div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">It wasn’t too difficult following the route but on occasion it would’ve been nice to have a reassuring race marker. Sue kept the navigation on her watch face, on mine, I had total time and distance, with a wee green arrow pointing the route direction when I held my watch level. It gave us peace of mind that we were heading the right way but with a race where you more or less kept the sea on your left, we shouldn’t get horribly lost. </span><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOsNzkAD9te5RLTz1FKpahlcV355ou8lKi5RPKmCW0de2KBME_E3K1gIUTYLmTfRE4PDrgIJYStYrYBnLzJMKSwOoWBUYx0aVLy4UFiOyZOwGyBjyrPVEyVuUnawnvkjOBcWz7lDEfykIMVH-xi9mwW7ae_YU4sQ08uvKd900-aZhGDuRqcyPKjPh9/s2266/IMG_8387.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1605" data-original-width="2266" height="284" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOsNzkAD9te5RLTz1FKpahlcV355ou8lKi5RPKmCW0de2KBME_E3K1gIUTYLmTfRE4PDrgIJYStYrYBnLzJMKSwOoWBUYx0aVLy4UFiOyZOwGyBjyrPVEyVuUnawnvkjOBcWz7lDEfykIMVH-xi9mwW7ae_YU4sQ08uvKd900-aZhGDuRqcyPKjPh9/w400-h284/IMG_8387.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">After picking up our second drop bag at Lossiemouth and going over the bridge we were a bit dubious we were going the right way but Roberta, the roving marshal on her bike put our minds at rest, </span></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-vqcpsHPAi-IJRm9MgBIYzMPBMu1qNdlHdHA-aOVXIo1jJILV4V7zZ1iZi-kln3W0G096B4zLz_OZjLyJ66OUQeHL7zsnjd8Oy0qDftXMoSkGF_8Bb4_umPEeaid0AEXr9ZtCRTKwwPfjtDzqD0-LKe_ZfjcR5JRPtLUxhf0xdL4Brxyt2boxgnhq/s2048/Roberta%20Walker.jpg1.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-vqcpsHPAi-IJRm9MgBIYzMPBMu1qNdlHdHA-aOVXIo1jJILV4V7zZ1iZi-kln3W0G096B4zLz_OZjLyJ66OUQeHL7zsnjd8Oy0qDftXMoSkGF_8Bb4_umPEeaid0AEXr9ZtCRTKwwPfjtDzqD0-LKe_ZfjcR5JRPtLUxhf0xdL4Brxyt2boxgnhq/w400-h225/Roberta%20Walker.jpg1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo from Roberta Walker</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">it was a vast beach in the haar and lovely to follow her tyre tracks in the hard packed sand before heading on the section described by Debbie and Kyle during the race briefing as “three miles of hell!” I thought that sounded a bit harsh, but now that I’ve done it I can safely say it wasn’t my favourite bit! The sea has pushed the shingle so high you can’t see the sea, you’re trying to pick the best path through soft sand, shingle and tussocky grass by the side of the war time sea defences, huge concrete blocks and pill boxes. To occupy ourselves we counted the blocks and worked out that there’s around 500 every mile! Eventually we turned inland towards Garmouth and our third drop bag, then onto a recently resurfaced old railway path and across the river on the Spey Viaduct, a fine example of Victiorian engineering. </span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMvEk7JsWqw_eoP_3udCoyH25_zHb1o79GdCC_1CfyaL2gy8MpnEPELqJLDqfP32ZyDojhEj4bnpwKPpOPNsemqDUSza59C8LNIXJoOvsBck3GS9vH1x67tobisdcaJg2fWjOK8LbLXIrUi5CRTXGDPjokckRpLpGerXvKUDkj5LoiI5NlhJzSXz05/s2270/IMG_8489.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1623" data-original-width="2270" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMvEk7JsWqw_eoP_3udCoyH25_zHb1o79GdCC_1CfyaL2gy8MpnEPELqJLDqfP32ZyDojhEj4bnpwKPpOPNsemqDUSza59C8LNIXJoOvsBck3GS9vH1x67tobisdcaJg2fWjOK8LbLXIrUi5CRTXGDPjokckRpLpGerXvKUDkj5LoiI5NlhJzSXz05/w400-h286/IMG_8489.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Once heading back to the coast I remembered I had run this path before! It was a long time ago, in 1999 I made my debut at 50km, running the Speyside Way 50km, held in April finishing at the Spey Bay Hotel (now replaced by houses) and organised by Don Ritchie. I ran the race four times and 2004 was the last time for me, it was held one more time in 2005, I was entered but was a DNS, on the morning of the race while still at home getting my porridge ready, I had a brain haemorrhage, which scuppered a few more races that year but it wasn’t too long until I was back running, seven weeks to be precise, just a gentle saunter round the Skye Half Marathon.</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The winding forest path from Spey Bay shows a lot of damage from Storm Arwen in 2021 but it’s still pretty, I think it was somewhere between Portgordon and Buckie we saw a dolphin! Wehay! That put a spring in our step! Sue and I were still tootling along nicely, just as well, there were a few wee cheeky climbs especially the one out of Findochty, short and sharp, but once up, a bonnie undulating scamper along to Portknockie and past the Bow Fiddle Rock, then I’m glad my legs were in fine fettle for the steps down to the beach and to the finish in Cullen. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUYdIfY9-tJlwjAWXnV9bOR6wkoQ9WklI7MoSfyQ4J1fM-ESY4HICrL5RR5i7OpvP6Mx945aajuEGP4JytYPzj0MEF_5Urw7_A1y6aKaHZ7WfZkqhAeV9r24da9pGMwuyuGGXKqoy3VaLwRB6GtYbz0SccDO_oOOlSu1Gw0QU_UELU9BcMSs9CHVYg/s2163/IMG_8584.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1602" data-original-width="2163" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUYdIfY9-tJlwjAWXnV9bOR6wkoQ9WklI7MoSfyQ4J1fM-ESY4HICrL5RR5i7OpvP6Mx945aajuEGP4JytYPzj0MEF_5Urw7_A1y6aKaHZ7WfZkqhAeV9r24da9pGMwuyuGGXKqoy3VaLwRB6GtYbz0SccDO_oOOlSu1Gw0QU_UELU9BcMSs9CHVYg/w400-h296/IMG_8584.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7xRdXST8Tk83BxhPrRbJRwqxF1xU1D2FcxHkTrN9drY0DakMClimZASsyU59egAq9CIxD7wjuqVdGdcZs3Yvc4Gf71pVE39snEd49JEQ_h0YWR-hYP73CxwBZNlWEu1gFyaMNyAg9KDpJsTOZBgjachPesbcei0ARP6tDmUBKxpaNLp6MpUtlXel6/s1974/IMG_8610.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1456" data-original-width="1974" height="295" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7xRdXST8Tk83BxhPrRbJRwqxF1xU1D2FcxHkTrN9drY0DakMClimZASsyU59egAq9CIxD7wjuqVdGdcZs3Yvc4Gf71pVE39snEd49JEQ_h0YWR-hYP73CxwBZNlWEu1gFyaMNyAg9KDpJsTOZBgjachPesbcei0ARP6tDmUBKxpaNLp6MpUtlXel6/w400-h295/IMG_8610.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguUxnLGoesxD2s4cbE0qseZoCtVDuFAAdfOXGeDy7bOfAddaAezxH3t7HffMKam9FIOXyGS9P0WRI9ioZhpQT-Z9C8UTcI-UmkCduCRG1Qr41PHkT25onJAuUQqrwl-HTe0tl31MRx4mFQdWQNuMMB6jB0njexxT_CrivQ_vepiL9TK4SOWQMdrdD4/s2150/IMG_8642.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1570" data-original-width="2150" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguUxnLGoesxD2s4cbE0qseZoCtVDuFAAdfOXGeDy7bOfAddaAezxH3t7HffMKam9FIOXyGS9P0WRI9ioZhpQT-Z9C8UTcI-UmkCduCRG1Qr41PHkT25onJAuUQqrwl-HTe0tl31MRx4mFQdWQNuMMB6jB0njexxT_CrivQ_vepiL9TK4SOWQMdrdD4/w400-h293/IMG_8642.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpkXHTvpJRkzke_imHpXb7f23_7wAJmBVAkHp6ldmSa5PFNtVnnljlS4UNzcr0OczFrKkp6QPYIUr8-wm063xbGi-O52NX7RXujSZC_evNbCcXCnUyOzigEQxRhUzpJUO_93DVAk7y4yuSz7KJekZdpaueIOlw1kCTKOZEqW5IrOrT9e-QI16LOn_P/s2234/IMG_8653.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1628" data-original-width="2234" height="291" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpkXHTvpJRkzke_imHpXb7f23_7wAJmBVAkHp6ldmSa5PFNtVnnljlS4UNzcr0OczFrKkp6QPYIUr8-wm063xbGi-O52NX7RXujSZC_evNbCcXCnUyOzigEQxRhUzpJUO_93DVAk7y4yuSz7KJekZdpaueIOlw1kCTKOZEqW5IrOrT9e-QI16LOn_P/w400-h291/IMG_8653.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>Mission accomplished! A grand day out in stunning scenery, ok, we’ll need to go back to see the bits that were lost in the haar. But I loved it all! At no point did I weary or struggle, and finished feeling I had loads left in the tank. A perfect final long run before the West Highland Way Race. <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdhaScWX1H-j10wrijgtD8H-lAjTm9IFfFwkL7Y_VPTBTUmctUlwxO-Ejoak9mviYMsGnYqfXD2GFsh0Vm3BbruRYvPgNiayKPHcAIQX-CTiz9IYM8fr-WdHqL0OFb-0Sp_AdNZxfIZKT_L7EZTzQIvGpO53jcS6DDt0I8BvTCTv4EBB-rp_jk9-oY/s2048/Stuart%20Ross%20Media.jpg7.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdhaScWX1H-j10wrijgtD8H-lAjTm9IFfFwkL7Y_VPTBTUmctUlwxO-Ejoak9mviYMsGnYqfXD2GFsh0Vm3BbruRYvPgNiayKPHcAIQX-CTiz9IYM8fr-WdHqL0OFb-0Sp_AdNZxfIZKT_L7EZTzQIvGpO53jcS6DDt0I8BvTCTv4EBB-rp_jk9-oY/w400-h266/Stuart%20Ross%20Media.jpg7.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo from Stuart Ross</td></tr></tbody></table></span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Thank you Debbie, Kyle and all your cheery, enthusiastic marshals for putting on a great event. Also all the runners we had the pleasure to chat to en route, some doing their first ultra, well done, you picked a cracker for your debut!</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">For those with number OCD, it does measure a wee bit short of 50 miles, don’t let that put you off, it fairly makes up for it in stunning scenery, a beautiful route doesn’t need to conform. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Will I run it again? Yes! Definitely! Who’s coming with me? </span></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>Fiona Renniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18268067089290474811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475346168209566942.post-42467268702035684282023-01-15T16:54:00.031+00:002023-01-16T09:35:28.126+00:00A round up of 2022 and grand plans for this year<span id="docs-internal-guid-2290c770-7fff-7f0a-7461-c5ef295badc8"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">As 2023 is settling in I’m looking forward to my plans for this year with the same thought as </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">usual at the beginning of January. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">All roads lead to Milngavie. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Any race I run before June is part of my training for the West Highland Way Race. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><b id="docs-internal-guid-1fed91a7-7fff-eba4-e9ab-f9b3eca51fa9" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Before I start my endeavour it’s nice to look back on last year and wasn’t it lovely to get back to meeting</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">pals at races, either running or marshalling. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">I started 2022 with a steady plod round the Falkirk 33 mile Trail Ultra at the beginning of February, a </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">four mile loop with a perfect mix of mud and hills. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl5Lox9vPlItGr9_4SN6FLDiFHxX8dq3Fc8vw-kIcf-nKbkW7BNmKXz4WlnomxkFL80f1VS0T_WAfeg27lDUm76Z3UacO8OMMueyIEKBgX02G4N5f9dg3hQ0CMW18mpC5tYQJK1j7J7vdJPXiz1RI7kTfV6ZlZfiQ6VVEzCu8dkw5Fn3m7Uhvt6Vf-/s3758/Cameron%20Wright%20Photography.%201%20(2).jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3758" data-original-width="3053" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl5Lox9vPlItGr9_4SN6FLDiFHxX8dq3Fc8vw-kIcf-nKbkW7BNmKXz4WlnomxkFL80f1VS0T_WAfeg27lDUm76Z3UacO8OMMueyIEKBgX02G4N5f9dg3hQ0CMW18mpC5tYQJK1j7J7vdJPXiz1RI7kTfV6ZlZfiQ6VVEzCu8dkw5Fn3m7Uhvt6Vf-/w325-h400/Cameron%20Wright%20Photography.%201%20(2).jpg" width="325" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cameron Wright Photography</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Quite a contrast to my next race, my 28th Smokies 10, the only race I run with the tactic of go-hard-and-hang-on. Having honed my running style to a minimal effort short stride to suit ultra (aka a shuffling sack o’ tatties) I don’t have the ability for short fast stuff but this Ladies Only 10 miler is great fun. </span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Next up was the Gathering of Awesomeness on the Inches at Perth. I was sucked along by</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">inspirational athletes performing wonderful achievements in the Anglo-Celtic Plate and the open races,</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">finishing the 50 km around half an hour sooner than I expected. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieJJ5PtXCNWre-_-iM4PZjpRLW5xdd726wAj2ZNQsGp5pwOGn2Tz8LZ4mZmNHMQ2MAaSGPkaS0gdbwdt1qkeKiwilEFxusfT1N4T4d2fMbUFcHm6RxTJZUi8ekoStwcyOQTu5kZT6hutiMPkizjGg_FjJWTlYi8qfzE0KM0AXSypYBekJ_2VM-B7pa/s2592/Steve%20Adams%202.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2592" data-original-width="2104" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieJJ5PtXCNWre-_-iM4PZjpRLW5xdd726wAj2ZNQsGp5pwOGn2Tz8LZ4mZmNHMQ2MAaSGPkaS0gdbwdt1qkeKiwilEFxusfT1N4T4d2fMbUFcHm6RxTJZUi8ekoStwcyOQTu5kZT6hutiMPkizjGg_FjJWTlYi8qfzE0KM0AXSypYBekJ_2VM-B7pa/w325-h400/Steve%20Adams%202.jpg" width="325" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo from Steve Adam</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">In May, Sue and I headed North East for the inaugural Formartine and Buchan 12 hour Ultra, starting at the Maud Station beside the Railway Museum and running 4 miles to Auchnagatt, a pretty trail on an</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"> old railway then turning round and coming back the same route. With it being continuously out and back I loved being able to see the faces of everyone running. </span><div><span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ-B1dZ-pXnb8CWHYqvViXjHL-3WsWkatgK_ZCwIE_lvumwQuyuR9psxoIoXJ3YJ4Ppyjw98Ro-XnigkoMfKnTaXq_u7J71j2GITpwXVNrpoqZZQ18kewVS58-yDf8pcC_jH6MSPrHOdkrPBabmewz_j7GZAyNs-JRapJBiSsjT5wamAMDWDo6fh2W/s1944/IMG_5679.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1593" data-original-width="1944" height="328" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ-B1dZ-pXnb8CWHYqvViXjHL-3WsWkatgK_ZCwIE_lvumwQuyuR9psxoIoXJ3YJ4Ppyjw98Ro-XnigkoMfKnTaXq_u7J71j2GITpwXVNrpoqZZQ18kewVS58-yDf8pcC_jH6MSPrHOdkrPBabmewz_j7GZAyNs-JRapJBiSsjT5wamAMDWDo6fh2W/w400-h328/IMG_5679.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">I thoroughly enjoyed it, working on pace management so I got back to Maud after 7 out and backs with around 15 minutes left to round up my distance to 61 miles, going round the wee loop at the station. I’ll look forward to doing it again some time. </span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Next up was my 24th Isle of Skye Half Marathon, a drookit and blowy run with Pauline but fun to catch up with friends in the pub afterwards, the Tongadale was warm and dry. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">A week later, Sue and I were side by side in Milngavie for the West Highland Way Race, we stayed </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">more or less together until Auchtertyre, </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEcwq5k3IWzZL7k1J1MQ2hi3YGpNHI6L_CLswBRBo4tITmx76X9k62lNKFV3uIU3zphCthCZe0dyPHYS-CYO92bFiD6eN2akh5UcvdYwxftPj68fNflgAoY9BERctOIHzdcgnyZ28IITQ4sT04efOwq9d9m0C4DT15V4RXb1un9BvXPM1JqH1ywTxK/s2259/IMG_7479.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1911" data-original-width="2259" height="339" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEcwq5k3IWzZL7k1J1MQ2hi3YGpNHI6L_CLswBRBo4tITmx76X9k62lNKFV3uIU3zphCthCZe0dyPHYS-CYO92bFiD6eN2akh5UcvdYwxftPj68fNflgAoY9BERctOIHzdcgnyZ28IITQ4sT04efOwq9d9m0C4DT15V4RXb1un9BvXPM1JqH1ywTxK/w400-h339/IMG_7479.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Sue left the checkpoint before me and I never saw her again until the finish in Fort William, she had a wonderful run picking up her second Goblet. The weather deteriorated late afternoon but after stressing the earlier cut off I now had plenty of time, so I just relaxed and enjoyed being back on the West Highland Way regardless of the wet and windy conditions. It was just wonderful to be there, it never stops being special. </span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIvlwc9FgC0KEdOQvlpwr3JGZGM_J2Y7Pt423G6mATEwvAc4yhydauGoqlZszarWcZAfG6RY7TwsjywV9epupwVFd1bm1I0c4v9wLmEZVYZxdptSZk-8o1IJgbmQznYoMDGAL0Z2QLV-01sVqx3mJPQ06MZN-xR0-DQ9vNFl2Eg-tCue4bbTkX_kXR/s1401/Adrian%20(2).jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1164" data-original-width="1401" height="333" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIvlwc9FgC0KEdOQvlpwr3JGZGM_J2Y7Pt423G6mATEwvAc4yhydauGoqlZszarWcZAfG6RY7TwsjywV9epupwVFd1bm1I0c4v9wLmEZVYZxdptSZk-8o1IJgbmQznYoMDGAL0Z2QLV-01sVqx3mJPQ06MZN-xR0-DQ9vNFl2Eg-tCue4bbTkX_kXR/w400-h333/Adrian%20(2).jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo from Adrian Stott</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">The plan after the West Highland Way was just to rest and recover, ticking over nicely until Glenmore 24 but three weeks before the race Covid caught up with me, I felt quite rough, typical flu symptoms for around three days then I did improve to feeling more like a right nasty cold, I rested and slept and rested some more before finally testing negative after ten days, I went out for an easy 3 miler five days away from the race, I didn’t cough up a lung so I hoped I’d be fine to run at Glenmore, I did consider moving to the 12 hour but if all went well, I wanted to cover 53 miles so that would give me 1000 Glenmore miles since the first race in 2011 and sticking with the 24 hour I’d have plenty of time to do that… if I felt ok. I took it really easy after the first couple of laps fuelled by the excitement and joy of being there, and actually sat down to eat for the first time during a 24 hour race, I’ve always just eaten on the hoof before but with a steady approach and a lot of walking when it was dark I finished with a surprising 82.75 miles, I did not expect that! </span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm5tZfJRzbwmBg0oeWWTMMkqmDu06XfSJrtI7piFBGpHh_dLCitj_Qb_vEjy4KT0AmDi0TRX64mIADYduee2mu5Yhb8P3qtnQuvlp2w9WuHjtFVuzBZPxTx5zf5dVew5t3JYDkO7H-26WuqRQFo5SJSVAzkYkO_aO7oDzUEXoC5kYFZX3321aMOVVI/s2048/Donna%20Wallace.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm5tZfJRzbwmBg0oeWWTMMkqmDu06XfSJrtI7piFBGpHh_dLCitj_Qb_vEjy4KT0AmDi0TRX64mIADYduee2mu5Yhb8P3qtnQuvlp2w9WuHjtFVuzBZPxTx5zf5dVew5t3JYDkO7H-26WuqRQFo5SJSVAzkYkO_aO7oDzUEXoC5kYFZX3321aMOVVI/w400-h266/Donna%20Wallace.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo from Donna Wallace</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">After that effort, I was giving my body the rest and recovery it deserved. I didn’t run for two weeks then another two weeks of gentle tick over leg stretches before joining Lucy and Kenneth celebrating the 20th Loch Ness Marathon, we’re the only three that have completed them all, we were generously given free entry and a huge hamper of goodies. </span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv7fePVb6QYkzFQRWJluX9J0REHAcVsfc0wTpguo60D1eCVfr2n6KGm_gqsBOhl9B-yunlEM0_3BaCCj1EL_4EXIQv1qoiXQU_sHLcU2YYbEnm9y0vZNetsHSCXR7afTxxxxyk2X1yeXdv8tR0BdYs_Zkn4Ej5Et_esagJCMCdhkWdtmwfxqNQ8Wob/s2048/Loch%20Ness%20Marathon.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1362" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv7fePVb6QYkzFQRWJluX9J0REHAcVsfc0wTpguo60D1eCVfr2n6KGm_gqsBOhl9B-yunlEM0_3BaCCj1EL_4EXIQv1qoiXQU_sHLcU2YYbEnm9y0vZNetsHSCXR7afTxxxxyk2X1yeXdv8tR0BdYs_Zkn4Ej5Et_esagJCMCdhkWdtmwfxqNQ8Wob/w400-h266/Loch%20Ness%20Marathon.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo from Loch Ness Marathon</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM24w2x6MPD8FHDSfsZHwXWPyHgOjnrloRRiaWT76ckC6Y9LEj1F5vbLmMhw8q1nTMjT9fQhNqO_h4UrEhe2_x723M9WSm-9w66DqpBBlzN45EZxnorALdakp2hFTxk_rP56B9Y4Q9ZBhO6i7OatIbRPPaaEUbya-rTemyOglgAyIT1wXOERzMWxNZ/s4328/IMG_0124.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3206" data-original-width="4328" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM24w2x6MPD8FHDSfsZHwXWPyHgOjnrloRRiaWT76ckC6Y9LEj1F5vbLmMhw8q1nTMjT9fQhNqO_h4UrEhe2_x723M9WSm-9w66DqpBBlzN45EZxnorALdakp2hFTxk_rP56B9Y4Q9ZBhO6i7OatIbRPPaaEUbya-rTemyOglgAyIT1wXOERzMWxNZ/w400-h296/IMG_0124.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">After Glenmore I felt I just lurched from race to rest and recovery with no time for training. My legs felt </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">heavy running the Coigach Half Marathon the week after Loch Ness, a beautiful route with Pauline with </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">stunning views of the Summer Isles and Stac Pollaidh. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9hldvQNOdBABhcRa7PvGTag5EAyRUESBVxoUaSAkcUS0bK7Ua9jm57DLamOiiM1IvQ2hUhN8jw8yb7HsNyZ6XWQBnw7CtDDfYcoyrV0IEqcDu0gbQn6Rd47eeEm8svtf3x_SKJEKzuhlrO8NfnHztJApA8wczZp6ouW-oZKGT5jLAtt5MAHY3vnSF/s8029/_K4A0256.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5355" data-original-width="8029" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9hldvQNOdBABhcRa7PvGTag5EAyRUESBVxoUaSAkcUS0bK7Ua9jm57DLamOiiM1IvQ2hUhN8jw8yb7HsNyZ6XWQBnw7CtDDfYcoyrV0IEqcDu0gbQn6Rd47eeEm8svtf3x_SKJEKzuhlrO8NfnHztJApA8wczZp6ouW-oZKGT5jLAtt5MAHY3vnSF/w400-h266/_K4A0256.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo from Dave Cross</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Next up was the Glen Ogle 33, another enjoyable plod round a bonny route in soggy but not cold conditions. </span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBBeo_hxnto_5iLmULWDuSuESF40flySFFTaKr-lefdkg8of0s-Ftes2Mv1OuCBladAgtsC4zQgUk-6p_98y_eNSjnP7cKpjM4-tX-tD80JVFErcruF8jUqfeonRRKgoKZqVM5NxXissFKWmn1OctGqFOYs-Vwwtq-HsDQ7d_VfMkKVkdRugISBVZP/s2048/Michael%20Philp%20Photos.jpg1.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1930" data-original-width="2048" height="378" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBBeo_hxnto_5iLmULWDuSuESF40flySFFTaKr-lefdkg8of0s-Ftes2Mv1OuCBladAgtsC4zQgUk-6p_98y_eNSjnP7cKpjM4-tX-tD80JVFErcruF8jUqfeonRRKgoKZqVM5NxXissFKWmn1OctGqFOYs-Vwwtq-HsDQ7d_VfMkKVkdRugISBVZP/w400-h378/Michael%20Philp%20Photos.jpg1.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Michael Philp Photos</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Lucky for me, I’m not motivated by the time on my watch but the scenery and the camaraderie of those I’m with, just as well, as the week after I was running the Dava Way! Although I’ve never been daft enough to run two ultras a week apart before, I wasn’t too worried. Being an auld warhorse with donkeys years of experience I know how to run tired, so I engaged perma-shuffle (good posture and minimum effort) and enjoyed another new race to me, a beautiful route starting in Grantown-on-Spey and finishing in Forres</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">mostly downhill with a fun wee climb just before the end, an excellent choice for a first ultra and I met loads of new buddies doing just that. </span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXUIveCUE6DseqBGD5ZWriuegZzuNZqlvLG2TpUcrrWZrwZ9gbEEA2sFEXi_xbFIbBA2BAItwL5tD93LTNCsuqXFjXvba3xBXp9G9FeAq4Wf1_hB4KtgIpoNnTzvrwYOmd_XNYFlFg5csLHDiCd6bXC3Y3jCzBv1ZzGY6R_IQdoQgPJGFTmzSDQ9dT/s2048/Iain%20Young.jpg1.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1366" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXUIveCUE6DseqBGD5ZWriuegZzuNZqlvLG2TpUcrrWZrwZ9gbEEA2sFEXi_xbFIbBA2BAItwL5tD93LTNCsuqXFjXvba3xBXp9G9FeAq4Wf1_hB4KtgIpoNnTzvrwYOmd_XNYFlFg5csLHDiCd6bXC3Y3jCzBv1ZzGY6R_IQdoQgPJGFTmzSDQ9dT/w400-h266/Iain%20Young.jpg1.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo from Iain Young</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkwgYb2EwnMSi687JkFpFp3ZZ-4WIwlFk8ZAc-eqf4i3DF4izqfrhK8lXXefqnSXtB9qjjlF3c6VO8ezLUyZ32RjbAvCIGq8q163JRplpqewuvVeF04KlRe-p7U6VfyWmOyELxG3qjDazBRVvTHpaXyXmDKepxHwFC_cYRZPm0ATBTY9RBuz2rq5sV/s4390/IMG_2136.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3294" data-original-width="4390" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkwgYb2EwnMSi687JkFpFp3ZZ-4WIwlFk8ZAc-eqf4i3DF4izqfrhK8lXXefqnSXtB9qjjlF3c6VO8ezLUyZ32RjbAvCIGq8q163JRplpqewuvVeF04KlRe-p7U6VfyWmOyELxG3qjDazBRVvTHpaXyXmDKepxHwFC_cYRZPm0ATBTY9RBuz2rq5sV/w400-h300/IMG_2136.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p>There was time to sneak in another new race to me before the end of the year, the Shale Trail 50km, a small field, low key race just a half an hours drive from home on the 11th December, Sue and I ran together, a lovely route from Winchburgh to West Calder and back the same way, another race where at some point you got to say “Hi” face to face with to everyone running. </span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBJyN-hUik-YwTq-KwbOcVgtH8FrdygY2kE0HzN4ismOpChpm8QXnk4vmtCt_acpERE8JRkyWNOTnbQm444kQ34CW3kIfJEhIpcoHRc9UvQLk0Ez9JhyT5cSGTLNboKQylFaO02yhNj_ckyk3bWXPBQylnsjOpuzgDrRo4Y5F7luky06JBk-jPKcMK/s1871/IMG_3091.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="1871" height="308" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBJyN-hUik-YwTq-KwbOcVgtH8FrdygY2kE0HzN4ismOpChpm8QXnk4vmtCt_acpERE8JRkyWNOTnbQm444kQ34CW3kIfJEhIpcoHRc9UvQLk0Ez9JhyT5cSGTLNboKQylFaO02yhNj_ckyk3bWXPBQylnsjOpuzgDrRo4Y5F7luky06JBk-jPKcMK/w400-h308/IMG_3091.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div><br /><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZBf2-q-G3T7foBuoFc3O7ZedABO53TfLf8xNwHFHJO8WY2_db-CDJBXeBC7qI53dWgFpPHKnd3-MnZtArCdBts5fNTkc6Q3DDUVhMSUekvB2LH6xTmBexeWWQLb-HLL6WsXwrRSlfOmMpQgL_vNSnLLphsMbWwpfZFXUmQySedCqmoCgEZ-QGYjmr/s2261/IMG_3243.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="2261" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZBf2-q-G3T7foBuoFc3O7ZedABO53TfLf8xNwHFHJO8WY2_db-CDJBXeBC7qI53dWgFpPHKnd3-MnZtArCdBts5fNTkc6Q3DDUVhMSUekvB2LH6xTmBexeWWQLb-HLL6WsXwrRSlfOmMpQgL_vNSnLLphsMbWwpfZFXUmQySedCqmoCgEZ-QGYjmr/w400-h283/IMG_3243.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGn3wvwp-HccQ91nvcd-mp4fpLyAiOsW3I8FDlI5pwPGUH3yBXXeYfGZFmcDj2rA_jSpgvLYwZjtAYbXtMCMN5wF2cgpIF8EQUb75iL3i4b5A10ILNVz5V5Wqov-uSmVQPZ24YlhCkQIn5jX-BM8kGoBonBGMWer89izF39nk1klCjyGp4S-iBdXBI/s2264/IMG_3470%20(2).JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1154" data-original-width="2264" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGn3wvwp-HccQ91nvcd-mp4fpLyAiOsW3I8FDlI5pwPGUH3yBXXeYfGZFmcDj2rA_jSpgvLYwZjtAYbXtMCMN5wF2cgpIF8EQUb75iL3i4b5A10ILNVz5V5Wqov-uSmVQPZ24YlhCkQIn5jX-BM8kGoBonBGMWer89izF39nk1klCjyGp4S-iBdXBI/w400-h204/IMG_3470%20(2).JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;">With a December race the weather could play a big part and it did, a touch of snow on the route for starters, </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">but it stayed dry, I wouldn’t say it warmed up much, there was a wee skim of water on the ice on the return, mainly along the canal which meant I was channelling my inner penguin, little steps and lots of them, a bit of mincing and a belief that as long as you don’t change speed or direction and your feet keep up with your body running on ice is perfectly fine. Both Sue and I finished together without any mishap. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKNOZsMR4H6j8d6aOIEzrwdR5urAZE_6pmET2lyaIODe0B0_sf4heblmHdSj0UOGcnYtpNgz02FbLXPsCM5yoKzgRe4mQ1Nm8oVcQNmK4Y_Ha5kbYqdH89kih2cCXLihktosJ36hy8CNfrFijs1N8fRtMu7iKsTg-v8EgpfrEh5WI_Q5XuAyLbYQLT/s2048/Lothian%20Running%20Club.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2003" data-original-width="2048" height="391" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKNOZsMR4H6j8d6aOIEzrwdR5urAZE_6pmET2lyaIODe0B0_sf4heblmHdSj0UOGcnYtpNgz02FbLXPsCM5yoKzgRe4mQ1Nm8oVcQNmK4Y_Ha5kbYqdH89kih2cCXLihktosJ36hy8CNfrFijs1N8fRtMu7iKsTg-v8EgpfrEh5WI_Q5XuAyLbYQLT/w400-h391/Lothian%20Running%20Club.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo from Lothian Running club</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">I don’t usually run as many races as that a year but after the past few years of race famine I was happy to go for a feast! Also sneaking in a couple of ultras at the end of the year put me in a position to plan for something special this year. I have now entered the races I’m aiming to do to make my goal happen. </span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">I hope I will be successful in finishing the Falkirk 7 hour, the John Muir 50km and the Moray Coastal </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Trail 50 mile in my build up to my 17th West Highland Way Race. I have entered one more race, </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Glenmore 24, with a bit of luck and health, this will be my 100th Ultra and wouldn’t it be wonderful if I </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">clocked 100 miles. None of this is guaranteed and just being able to run is a luxury and a privilege </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">denied to so many, but it’s a thought that makes me smile and a grand goal to aim for. </span></p></span></div>Fiona Renniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18268067089290474811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475346168209566942.post-84152858773145326852022-09-11T17:12:00.000+00:002022-09-11T17:12:16.073+00:00Glenmore 24 2022<p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-94e77472-7fff-d414-f90b-758ec4b01f0e"><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq_XWOtIBicnbIx8xRz2lRAqAhSdkOnr8GEHCQsRHOhhE5ETDnWseSxXTp6myRZ8DTkxo-cMbJtIJd2_o_yQUN7LwBlAkrqSCYIKxpqpibQU90gp2bufZHU6rLNv0bbt-0YSWTR0LbbspdmKlC-f0H-R1dqEuHf_VS8qZm7TaZ4ESlMqcQbJm1kJMX/s3045/304920796_575238547668786_2126724121145076968_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2473" data-original-width="3045" height="325" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq_XWOtIBicnbIx8xRz2lRAqAhSdkOnr8GEHCQsRHOhhE5ETDnWseSxXTp6myRZ8DTkxo-cMbJtIJd2_o_yQUN7LwBlAkrqSCYIKxpqpibQU90gp2bufZHU6rLNv0bbt-0YSWTR0LbbspdmKlC-f0H-R1dqEuHf_VS8qZm7TaZ4ESlMqcQbJm1kJMX/w400-h325/304920796_575238547668786_2126724121145076968_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span><p></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhspmDhYyxvaL0d4Nw118QkUUfZI55LOt8IZ103xcGn9dMigGEaDpegjTFUGrnVr0BncXpgd-nupqHy9h3_-BPh18sy8Orj540R5py0MQFcvN8wn2AwIkPDstnccQXgabRzKQ4m_2wEqtE2F18RsfER4IQqatuk0cAp95mmaqy9bT6nyOx4B3oxLV-4/s2048/Bill%20Heirs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="996" data-original-width="2048" height="195" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhspmDhYyxvaL0d4Nw118QkUUfZI55LOt8IZ103xcGn9dMigGEaDpegjTFUGrnVr0BncXpgd-nupqHy9h3_-BPh18sy8Orj540R5py0MQFcvN8wn2AwIkPDstnccQXgabRzKQ4m_2wEqtE2F18RsfER4IQqatuk0cAp95mmaqy9bT6nyOx4B3oxLV-4/w400-h195/Bill%20Heirs.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo from Bill Heirs </td></tr></tbody></table></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNr4776CnQN3KxdPTEkAmS0d1bnOjSKzc2ACFpIiOzPzd3E2NgQKNHY0wZG2MmPjSDGVCFodHTXBMoMXA6EH7acHZKwwJ-rcvZZkCKRTPKczPnf6okCH6TT6NfMws4tsSxGmm7NJh7HHl7e9VzWd1Kmnfhl6clDK3sJDVi9S28-G3CdhGBUIQXtYbC/s4421/IMG_7965.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2716" data-original-width="4421" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNr4776CnQN3KxdPTEkAmS0d1bnOjSKzc2ACFpIiOzPzd3E2NgQKNHY0wZG2MmPjSDGVCFodHTXBMoMXA6EH7acHZKwwJ-rcvZZkCKRTPKczPnf6okCH6TT6NfMws4tsSxGmm7NJh7HHl7e9VzWd1Kmnfhl6clDK3sJDVi9S28-G3CdhGBUIQXtYbC/w400-h246/IMG_7965.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvKT9pbAPXpI2t7AnsnC3nJzF6BmKv2Cz4_iahfdSlid2MDTTjfA10wbGY6ZO5cz3NDqnYmfK8LIX7ZBbCXvaC1AZ01AxZAnp1oV-p8-O0XI0r9Bi8cO9O7ldAtMOrJE8Me1ZOBdTSY9uOpM1hRHO0Ol9u1cLi-iYBBpperVDLFATCC4oAVYe9RClk/s2111/IMG_7990.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1799" data-original-width="2111" height="341" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvKT9pbAPXpI2t7AnsnC3nJzF6BmKv2Cz4_iahfdSlid2MDTTjfA10wbGY6ZO5cz3NDqnYmfK8LIX7ZBbCXvaC1AZ01AxZAnp1oV-p8-O0XI0r9Bi8cO9O7ldAtMOrJE8Me1ZOBdTSY9uOpM1hRHO0Ol9u1cLi-iYBBpperVDLFATCC4oAVYe9RClk/w400-h341/IMG_7990.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVsbCqcrzS2VxDv758wXaiUdXUgJAyE9mGPxqwIhOoAr1De8qiAl5wYQztr79J82z8cmvMOkziSDVbl7diU_-S97HzlEH1L-zoqWysxgahtkIixquOmQA4KUX8zxBceIlaMRfJ_2mXPSxqqbG-QigONZlPmCf_VpxeAm20LoPyfZAXgfkrC7978TNY/s2171/IMG_7991.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="2171" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVsbCqcrzS2VxDv758wXaiUdXUgJAyE9mGPxqwIhOoAr1De8qiAl5wYQztr79J82z8cmvMOkziSDVbl7diU_-S97HzlEH1L-zoqWysxgahtkIixquOmQA4KUX8zxBceIlaMRfJ_2mXPSxqqbG-QigONZlPmCf_VpxeAm20LoPyfZAXgfkrC7978TNY/w400-h276/IMG_7991.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji4bCxb2ZdHxrqnUszgpOu3tS36mNnTYu-e-TPCfyXo5THvJOJOnmqFIkiscwi0hd2ooWqp8nNOFddK41uatmlEyfza8TjL7T7YkLymGb-oF6qiiCiMsSTmtzZevqgvIDikly_1wFpfNrmFlZ8qH1UiwB7zumQoE3QXiZk-llYyE_4pMsmUbXJ11wD/s1881/IMG_7997.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1881" data-original-width="1731" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji4bCxb2ZdHxrqnUszgpOu3tS36mNnTYu-e-TPCfyXo5THvJOJOnmqFIkiscwi0hd2ooWqp8nNOFddK41uatmlEyfza8TjL7T7YkLymGb-oF6qiiCiMsSTmtzZevqgvIDikly_1wFpfNrmFlZ8qH1UiwB7zumQoE3QXiZk-llYyE_4pMsmUbXJ11wD/w368-h400/IMG_7997.JPG" width="368" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVTNMdGO1Ng3gobpQS4izZd0ZABbPiJnm-pbNv4WLOOyfsiu5l1sd-gvN_5jr3CmJZZiiS8VBKmbeGeYt9s7Clvu2KoBZ6NgKjTbZw3W--iFdZ5feUsX9E6CFEp8HELBJklEWHY0nH3pT5nmb3-ugGdVUHnFxTX2Ekn4pvt3YI_dfx0Wfqbjjxvu-Y/s543/Glen%20(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="423" data-original-width="543" height="311" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVTNMdGO1Ng3gobpQS4izZd0ZABbPiJnm-pbNv4WLOOyfsiu5l1sd-gvN_5jr3CmJZZiiS8VBKmbeGeYt9s7Clvu2KoBZ6NgKjTbZw3W--iFdZ5feUsX9E6CFEp8HELBJklEWHY0nH3pT5nmb3-ugGdVUHnFxTX2Ekn4pvt3YI_dfx0Wfqbjjxvu-Y/w400-h311/Glen%20(2).jpg" width="400" /></a></div></span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ8P3NbSk5aGCXmajECF55uA_yfjzFTmTIzRM4jmFJxvn83eT8zfAvhmx2gyMAM3XaUy3jWzhY_JjdpScF4bmQbq7M_Hzfs3OV1k_E-6TWHBBo8JX6R29otNaVSSu_ibBjn9ZhWztX6xZhVzV6NtPuhmAO5sYOJSBBpkd4gQlRwGjss9owmLsgGv6Z/s2401/IMG_8008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1789" data-original-width="2401" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ8P3NbSk5aGCXmajECF55uA_yfjzFTmTIzRM4jmFJxvn83eT8zfAvhmx2gyMAM3XaUy3jWzhY_JjdpScF4bmQbq7M_Hzfs3OV1k_E-6TWHBBo8JX6R29otNaVSSu_ibBjn9ZhWztX6xZhVzV6NtPuhmAO5sYOJSBBpkd4gQlRwGjss9owmLsgGv6Z/w400-h297/IMG_8008.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW6uK0dwLgYZpievCNGMYntX_-4Clh_krfk83evS_ptOaNwZ2hPE0r7jKGoFiUMeaLZjAINERu589rBXgHg4zYzSNzr3otZaPCbxCFq9YMXJU-2ieOXC84HNC2TmBSj-_E_KTE9qP7DgpRKhisDoAuI4uhmkbyp1CsJ6UrXNBb5qvL_FpFgdr7gu7F/s4861/IMG_9227.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2839" data-original-width="4861" height="234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW6uK0dwLgYZpievCNGMYntX_-4Clh_krfk83evS_ptOaNwZ2hPE0r7jKGoFiUMeaLZjAINERu589rBXgHg4zYzSNzr3otZaPCbxCFq9YMXJU-2ieOXC84HNC2TmBSj-_E_KTE9qP7DgpRKhisDoAuI4uhmkbyp1CsJ6UrXNBb5qvL_FpFgdr7gu7F/w400-h234/IMG_9227.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGLSn6_XR0PbpT3-GVn_17K4EPur2GzV3EhAZk0aigPrvBNUTFfmMQh2qfTewMHGo9Lteyl7rBmU50kG6rkpqn43dFKNh-Bo6qyFRUL3ChvAAOZFrVHjQ0EAwMlb0QzSdKbPjKKeIjGhRn3Rj4qNrDc0Z0j0hVGjpjeId0HpKJc4sAKSDiO2a55Z3G/s2289/IMG_8633.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1603" data-original-width="2289" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGLSn6_XR0PbpT3-GVn_17K4EPur2GzV3EhAZk0aigPrvBNUTFfmMQh2qfTewMHGo9Lteyl7rBmU50kG6rkpqn43dFKNh-Bo6qyFRUL3ChvAAOZFrVHjQ0EAwMlb0QzSdKbPjKKeIjGhRn3Rj4qNrDc0Z0j0hVGjpjeId0HpKJc4sAKSDiO2a55Z3G/w400-h280/IMG_8633.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></div><p></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">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 </span></div><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGLmzhVV1M_RL2nrL9DYpDo5AT8Z-S3JGQY173PZJXC7NTGtSL259BWYPjvp_qQuXc__dcotTtkaNDZot9hOGyiYobgPCktxlqoIIeXI0YLpTNq3RJG_7rn7BSirYsVSnKrwlhusxmNA-r53B-YswMRzXLDIwRoiMWS0FDPZnvAomGFOPUpcSN2fQw/s1300/yan%20(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1300" data-original-width="1160" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGLmzhVV1M_RL2nrL9DYpDo5AT8Z-S3JGQY173PZJXC7NTGtSL259BWYPjvp_qQuXc__dcotTtkaNDZot9hOGyiYobgPCktxlqoIIeXI0YLpTNq3RJG_7rn7BSirYsVSnKrwlhusxmNA-r53B-YswMRzXLDIwRoiMWS0FDPZnvAomGFOPUpcSN2fQw/w358-h400/yan%20(2).jpg" width="358" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yan's soup in progress </td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqa3RGNPjHLDS47ndswSm2TkM0C8SQ2h3RoAkF8rYzr76BOgzddtZ86rVWgoOCXZrWpv4endkDdTzzDYbu-lIvUbX66lwT1nv1vK9iVVyctYVhSmi7DOV3QN01mUV6Gyxw0qQwhdK4jvnfnzhZUxX-VtQSZaSs0Lic79xdWF1wzIL7UXzRE3kPRaq5/s4962/IMG_9273.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2782" data-original-width="4962" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqa3RGNPjHLDS47ndswSm2TkM0C8SQ2h3RoAkF8rYzr76BOgzddtZ86rVWgoOCXZrWpv4endkDdTzzDYbu-lIvUbX66lwT1nv1vK9iVVyctYVhSmi7DOV3QN01mUV6Gyxw0qQwhdK4jvnfnzhZUxX-VtQSZaSs0Lic79xdWF1wzIL7UXzRE3kPRaq5/w400-h224/IMG_9273.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-T1G5Rs2oiCfmcgpu_UK6UUGWYcxC2r-3dkqmgYU0v_dbtinYHkcdbq6zQ10ViohDg0b463yVNxlieMXU50xMbBtIaVsUF07jNuAYq10j5Fwf74nONMVZx8uHqdAZNYoOzS1f3pffhPQe0CLtmQvPur7UGlRgxfRpGLAEgpgICClIzVgxTQx-WABY/s3642/IMG_9286.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2474" data-original-width="3642" height="271" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-T1G5Rs2oiCfmcgpu_UK6UUGWYcxC2r-3dkqmgYU0v_dbtinYHkcdbq6zQ10ViohDg0b463yVNxlieMXU50xMbBtIaVsUF07jNuAYq10j5Fwf74nONMVZx8uHqdAZNYoOzS1f3pffhPQe0CLtmQvPur7UGlRgxfRpGLAEgpgICClIzVgxTQx-WABY/w400-h271/IMG_9286.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGagWtZHDmfcqXrl4Jp4G2DDh-M7vj1V9BRM7flmJuAuuOqv4kElh-7cZ5l1QBpbwo2l9_QZDahJD-geG-DrGkLv0OfuqOpb7loxZbMMmOk4rqjH7WunLx_vCpN9foV6P1uChx86XHPGO1sEWg9lMDBZUsBuEKhLPkgZwZMQL0ou2nWhseWXaK75Nu/s1618/John%20Monro%20(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1618" data-original-width="914" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGagWtZHDmfcqXrl4Jp4G2DDh-M7vj1V9BRM7flmJuAuuOqv4kElh-7cZ5l1QBpbwo2l9_QZDahJD-geG-DrGkLv0OfuqOpb7loxZbMMmOk4rqjH7WunLx_vCpN9foV6P1uChx86XHPGO1sEWg9lMDBZUsBuEKhLPkgZwZMQL0ou2nWhseWXaK75Nu/w226-h400/John%20Monro%20(2).jpg" width="226" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo from John Munro </td></tr></tbody></table>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!” </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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! </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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? </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw5BoS4lTwDTRH2C5wJFgARI0cWyNc9Rg4wPfwkFKG9PllL5sz_ZImvLb5crRRb_jv6DsOawXWCknz3h4PQDAd5QyucYvCgdojZIoOKuTPg3U9C_lkY7ZLr38Lt0S-vn-kp_OyhAGpTGzWc_9zEUQ_-uEX4ky6oqrRHnnlBDfU9xZEJYcgXihrdtXr/s2048/Donna%20Wallace.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw5BoS4lTwDTRH2C5wJFgARI0cWyNc9Rg4wPfwkFKG9PllL5sz_ZImvLb5crRRb_jv6DsOawXWCknz3h4PQDAd5QyucYvCgdojZIoOKuTPg3U9C_lkY7ZLr38Lt0S-vn-kp_OyhAGpTGzWc_9zEUQ_-uEX4ky6oqrRHnnlBDfU9xZEJYcgXihrdtXr/w400-h266/Donna%20Wallace.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo from Donna Wallace</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> I tried to keep the momentum of t</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">he 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. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAssBqwElo2JoE_lwpokxxJ1qgy2DVyHrjEtPs_s96lr6tHvN8kH6yGuS_qqvdMXsGceeOiwfo0zv1m92wXmUVLm2f6stYuti3zL3ABqO4-3nEACCRV3N4OL6PpIn0OgWPgatn7JBqtVBHn8DJ0CAdO0z76Q56lqRXlT4syzVnyWt-gFwcKt6h5NT9/s3323/Gillian%20(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3323" data-original-width="2742" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAssBqwElo2JoE_lwpokxxJ1qgy2DVyHrjEtPs_s96lr6tHvN8kH6yGuS_qqvdMXsGceeOiwfo0zv1m92wXmUVLm2f6stYuti3zL3ABqO4-3nEACCRV3N4OL6PpIn0OgWPgatn7JBqtVBHn8DJ0CAdO0z76Q56lqRXlT4syzVnyWt-gFwcKt6h5NT9/w330-h400/Gillian%20(2).jpg" width="330" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo from Gillian</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Here’s my Glenmore statistics, </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A grand total of 1031.41 miles, 252 laps and 21.41 miles on the wee lap. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">2011 108 miles, there were no wee laps for the first year </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">2012 109.01 miles, 1st Female</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">2013 25.45 miles, a 6 hour special just for me post cancer treatment</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">2014 89.56 miles </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">2015 107.35 miles</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">2016 103.26 miles</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">2017 102.04 miles </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">2018 102.61 miles</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">2019 103.36 miles </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">2021 98.02 miles</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">2022 82.75 miles </span></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br />Fiona Renniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18268067089290474811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475346168209566942.post-33098143551870074072022-06-28T22:23:00.006+00:002022-06-29T07:57:44.006+00:00Sweet Sixteen - West Highland Way Race 2022My 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. <div><br /></div><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div> 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.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9UwbqDUF4mB_QQA2bF4fNs-JKHUIxTs6c3k_RCO1XXC2bCT0EGa0a1SijlbFh9UaFdP7Q2NFDkhjvEhXAOg8fWDRF5plbhQjFY26ToDNJnZvyxMMh8h__Zuyk-NgIGDUT9NBNEPE8EqF-7xB0wVyGi8zpYbq2fBIdHgiRzBkSEgugkW5KoLF9U7F6/s3866/IMG_7215.JPG" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="2786" data-original-width="3866" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9UwbqDUF4mB_QQA2bF4fNs-JKHUIxTs6c3k_RCO1XXC2bCT0EGa0a1SijlbFh9UaFdP7Q2NFDkhjvEhXAOg8fWDRF5plbhQjFY26ToDNJnZvyxMMh8h__Zuyk-NgIGDUT9NBNEPE8EqF-7xB0wVyGi8zpYbq2fBIdHgiRzBkSEgugkW5KoLF9U7F6/s400/IMG_7215.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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. </div><div><br /></div><div>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. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhP2_o9urPo2IRv1hWXpm45q7L94WK4luENd-ahEuQtFNkIgyyxSy3eupLPEIWcf3ZDeRbkP19VPp98oDE0Fr7tYgE0jvWKW4BLn6dvfnklqovKIhsoFlrMBr9zf-Uanho8T2swltbb-r25_Df3lmwQHqkMyYXid3jwJr7Mal8DZdA3O8BDXbksM14/s2071/IMG_7243.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1395" data-original-width="2071" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhP2_o9urPo2IRv1hWXpm45q7L94WK4luENd-ahEuQtFNkIgyyxSy3eupLPEIWcf3ZDeRbkP19VPp98oDE0Fr7tYgE0jvWKW4BLn6dvfnklqovKIhsoFlrMBr9zf-Uanho8T2swltbb-r25_Df3lmwQHqkMyYXid3jwJr7Mal8DZdA3O8BDXbksM14/w400-h270/IMG_7243.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div>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. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheLPvnrpCDb_pYUs28LpeXtUILjaNtt2TwCN16RAHYvYbmqO1yXVt5V08gIpwXNw4lgiaK-NP2bXlPe-K4b7QCls__hW9Pjv_TmKDK9LvRlYCEiVlCvewttO3aaik4So_ySJQqUms06Izob9xp_ym3emMgM9LIbLbJHVmNuQBYpjLc4heD8EzBFkpK/s1786/IMG_7385.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1246" data-original-width="1786" height="279" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheLPvnrpCDb_pYUs28LpeXtUILjaNtt2TwCN16RAHYvYbmqO1yXVt5V08gIpwXNw4lgiaK-NP2bXlPe-K4b7QCls__hW9Pjv_TmKDK9LvRlYCEiVlCvewttO3aaik4So_ySJQqUms06Izob9xp_ym3emMgM9LIbLbJHVmNuQBYpjLc4heD8EzBFkpK/w400-h279/IMG_7385.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div>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. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-VLhtdhBvwuGQtNgYt0TSDpFtiVRMEH8p7rGNRjM3lcbOsgedXVXzMoADhKeXStPQeK8qBf1ZSzDKXoeQW_3L49ibtnOX1t-fCYvYOc22lSKiW4Z2J2nFiQ70lcWni55Pj0O2-l4vAnvmxHfA1KX5q13zbLrx0UCeDI2qTK8PnCVI4E6C-xbsJew-/s1552/IMG_8733.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1552" data-original-width="1460" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-VLhtdhBvwuGQtNgYt0TSDpFtiVRMEH8p7rGNRjM3lcbOsgedXVXzMoADhKeXStPQeK8qBf1ZSzDKXoeQW_3L49ibtnOX1t-fCYvYOc22lSKiW4Z2J2nFiQ70lcWni55Pj0O2-l4vAnvmxHfA1KX5q13zbLrx0UCeDI2qTK8PnCVI4E6C-xbsJew-/w376-h400/IMG_8733.JPG" width="376" /></a></div><br /><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div>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. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHeco5TBy82KnWppXKnQdMKt6BtQt9MZpwUaqprTn9waxq-X3R_jAgpUBtUfLM1tOD7i4MLC5Kq0WJsyTrIDKZeOPRQTt0mD9vy5TCYWB_GXLARr2Bc0Xno0ZON0l6A6JUREv9XgqCk9wAZfWHnmWY5ktD8iTrzWlMnnLJkNQV3qOMSI8Yd6PMcbJq/s2259/IMG_7479.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1911" data-original-width="2259" height="339" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHeco5TBy82KnWppXKnQdMKt6BtQt9MZpwUaqprTn9waxq-X3R_jAgpUBtUfLM1tOD7i4MLC5Kq0WJsyTrIDKZeOPRQTt0mD9vy5TCYWB_GXLARr2Bc0Xno0ZON0l6A6JUREv9XgqCk9wAZfWHnmWY5ktD8iTrzWlMnnLJkNQV3qOMSI8Yd6PMcbJq/w400-h339/IMG_7479.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKsR9Hbk33UGYp7VRD3kJAIEMut8I6oNWDcUmDqhLrF7jgvx4zcMqJCFR_wda1FiKbn0XSut1UIPUHJ9d-269xDeKA9B51vLA64qMc5M8deJT6RK1RXlnCh2bYcysJxL8CVRoXctTU4YH5Oh231tvTS0gJMJPLWbADJSs51YiXmK72WHG2wGL7SpZJ/s1916/IMG_7444.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1916" data-original-width="1801" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKsR9Hbk33UGYp7VRD3kJAIEMut8I6oNWDcUmDqhLrF7jgvx4zcMqJCFR_wda1FiKbn0XSut1UIPUHJ9d-269xDeKA9B51vLA64qMc5M8deJT6RK1RXlnCh2bYcysJxL8CVRoXctTU4YH5Oh231tvTS0gJMJPLWbADJSs51YiXmK72WHG2wGL7SpZJ/w376-h400/IMG_7444.JPG" width="376" /></a></div><br /><div>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. </div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIRDzng1gnUvKNo4PeRle_6uMnS-YdjfCQEkvyTVz5zajvjtpGZCIZtV0BK20jINudbf5TfiXM7VxCEZn4I3CwHZvSNHxbWsTdTnQjfALPY3r8Rt0nApBv8Y_gQvrZMSS0scq0Te8CphAzxfWRtk53t_Wab_sNACAe4_ZA5Jl_BNXNcMi_lN_cFBfk/s1134/Yan.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="970" data-original-width="1134" height="343" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIRDzng1gnUvKNo4PeRle_6uMnS-YdjfCQEkvyTVz5zajvjtpGZCIZtV0BK20jINudbf5TfiXM7VxCEZn4I3CwHZvSNHxbWsTdTnQjfALPY3r8Rt0nApBv8Y_gQvrZMSS0scq0Te8CphAzxfWRtk53t_Wab_sNACAe4_ZA5Jl_BNXNcMi_lN_cFBfk/w400-h343/Yan.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Glad to see Yan have fun! </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>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. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Xxg0e7fkGJomJEl5pSicsQNaL3XuNkzCwby4n2IX5xbzBFuq2i8X8-phWspHHlVX2H--hlP6zTh6vyeSdhX0Kn-1w5AphA-7VBIqY-RHSVo69IkCOoN8iETdCjmSPyaPl2zdm_QuoXvmhasyVlenBTE9W9pWV48-yOnWRPcckkGD0mW0PsJA4szN/s2338/IMG_7567.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1748" data-original-width="2338" height="299" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Xxg0e7fkGJomJEl5pSicsQNaL3XuNkzCwby4n2IX5xbzBFuq2i8X8-phWspHHlVX2H--hlP6zTh6vyeSdhX0Kn-1w5AphA-7VBIqY-RHSVo69IkCOoN8iETdCjmSPyaPl2zdm_QuoXvmhasyVlenBTE9W9pWV48-yOnWRPcckkGD0mW0PsJA4szN/w400-h299/IMG_7567.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6r6ALF2lI-oafewA-ypJBYXP3Rz3YeDDDCQlpJBzTAOnoNwrAwbRAj2U1Sr745w0XFM-VuEWkuQGcaouqUMObAJLoiXTJp29pYrj_36pEjNZAR9jKEAGW9Y6TrJSR-HV9RCk5-Bjg8hUekfMMQSvora2EaRKQZYAucdcF-MiFylsDqC52hyIqU79T/s2371/IMG_7586.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1779" data-original-width="2371" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6r6ALF2lI-oafewA-ypJBYXP3Rz3YeDDDCQlpJBzTAOnoNwrAwbRAj2U1Sr745w0XFM-VuEWkuQGcaouqUMObAJLoiXTJp29pYrj_36pEjNZAR9jKEAGW9Y6TrJSR-HV9RCk5-Bjg8hUekfMMQSvora2EaRKQZYAucdcF-MiFylsDqC52hyIqU79T/w400-h300/IMG_7586.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div>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. </div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZyw0zk7iSskkvxkTBDGsZj_UPdZrebn8d0agoiMK0KPQP_FN37HGE_fQ43cP-ib1vZLBwatIB0O7vDDKw0mamx3wfzfwxyGf_lw7JPSK6qJIV1-YpXRSI-3WmVScTXMTZkqj4is03l6pZhTJvld_zqGP28USrrtgt__U8O0S26ufQWlIUkHw4l5rA/s1600/DSCF2257a%20(2).jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1151" data-original-width="1600" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZyw0zk7iSskkvxkTBDGsZj_UPdZrebn8d0agoiMK0KPQP_FN37HGE_fQ43cP-ib1vZLBwatIB0O7vDDKw0mamx3wfzfwxyGf_lw7JPSK6qJIV1-YpXRSI-3WmVScTXMTZkqj4is03l6pZhTJvld_zqGP28USrrtgt__U8O0S26ufQWlIUkHw4l5rA/w400-h288/DSCF2257a%20(2).jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo from a solo training run a good few years ago, and yes they got out of my way!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>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! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCuV8kzGjiJTRGrYv1Eok76wyTYmWT2Cah5y0568l0yPLjFyCvkOIecZ6cjhk-3q8qn2vndwxLdISNN9jZ_Y_5w1ag8rMN1V6mLJH7eTI8pbRIrkM96VD13CEI0VMaGz715KmSeGTnbygtmqGdfd-3cO2XS-FTqH7S3giYajroMdR18R6WtHZhbtL4/s2739/IMG_8769.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2036" data-original-width="2739" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCuV8kzGjiJTRGrYv1Eok76wyTYmWT2Cah5y0568l0yPLjFyCvkOIecZ6cjhk-3q8qn2vndwxLdISNN9jZ_Y_5w1ag8rMN1V6mLJH7eTI8pbRIrkM96VD13CEI0VMaGz715KmSeGTnbygtmqGdfd-3cO2XS-FTqH7S3giYajroMdR18R6WtHZhbtL4/w400-h297/IMG_8769.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div>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. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwQDD9hOQ-O-yJkGhQvc7X73b4uCVw94Wruld4_LgdqRYkC8wFEUEdPMwmSl7ZylK-yHugvdrPhkQyI_grWrZ9Ikm7un7T-gFVnf0MzKpQWG2jZxWU4HVncQgvINvjUbATrm5cbcbhosIPBJo7uVkyQhb2vNE3tK4mcEuax-wN-0TdJPavRvHlV1G_/s2555/IMG_8780.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1866" data-original-width="2555" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwQDD9hOQ-O-yJkGhQvc7X73b4uCVw94Wruld4_LgdqRYkC8wFEUEdPMwmSl7ZylK-yHugvdrPhkQyI_grWrZ9Ikm7un7T-gFVnf0MzKpQWG2jZxWU4HVncQgvINvjUbATrm5cbcbhosIPBJo7uVkyQhb2vNE3tK4mcEuax-wN-0TdJPavRvHlV1G_/w400-h293/IMG_8780.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div>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.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSJyE_xcigGcJuT3HzR7H9-C2bEW9gCkS-2Fk7SReovTwdxaLmQ1cy-rY2PYxTfoSS6sU-gbHxlCD5ET--MsRlbgIcQ0LVaYPufOA7DKptgV7SJdy_HUGgVPc0qHr1sTh4ig4NAMKwEDVAfi_oZ-w-igTzOEwu-Z-YrLaeZ3lrlX_yrPLOzqjC3wS4/s3088/IMG_8788.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2056" data-original-width="3088" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSJyE_xcigGcJuT3HzR7H9-C2bEW9gCkS-2Fk7SReovTwdxaLmQ1cy-rY2PYxTfoSS6sU-gbHxlCD5ET--MsRlbgIcQ0LVaYPufOA7DKptgV7SJdy_HUGgVPc0qHr1sTh4ig4NAMKwEDVAfi_oZ-w-igTzOEwu-Z-YrLaeZ3lrlX_yrPLOzqjC3wS4/w400-h266/IMG_8788.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div>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! </div><div><br /></div><div>It’s great to catch up with Donna and we chat along to Tyndrum where Ally sees us safely over the road,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-jE1S9jRBpenar0fY7XPwG8_jf8ftRecLltIr6MdCToUv_HgeJG4HZeQEzJtFFomR3sGXJ69sRhBLWIKyOcPhD5AbEQ4WRz8CvZAKXDoCuTPQUkOx9RkuTBxH4R1W_vunjiyatWYJKYgK8QN9pQLgjVa08U0QStl5qgTZAmrm8hyC6wq8mCeZ85U_/s2332/IMG_8805.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1878" data-original-width="2332" height="323" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-jE1S9jRBpenar0fY7XPwG8_jf8ftRecLltIr6MdCToUv_HgeJG4HZeQEzJtFFomR3sGXJ69sRhBLWIKyOcPhD5AbEQ4WRz8CvZAKXDoCuTPQUkOx9RkuTBxH4R1W_vunjiyatWYJKYgK8QN9pQLgjVa08U0QStl5qgTZAmrm8hyC6wq8mCeZ85U_/w400-h323/IMG_8805.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div>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! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiciteexSam6XYueylBzMEcrONoOnDtXfwLdkhsQkkjfNFa3L2DI-gbJDXtB0vPTfguiIBd8B9BZbKoCCqywwJxUSW1Nb3tZqBzx_YwjV_9TBa-fehKkqNgx2m2X0Kk_gvEMQri603razPrPkU301r1tv3yxreS3XdDpjjseHvwW6I5NhYmSIu7ER0A/s2399/IMG_7622.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1936" data-original-width="2399" height="323" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiciteexSam6XYueylBzMEcrONoOnDtXfwLdkhsQkkjfNFa3L2DI-gbJDXtB0vPTfguiIBd8B9BZbKoCCqywwJxUSW1Nb3tZqBzx_YwjV_9TBa-fehKkqNgx2m2X0Kk_gvEMQri603razPrPkU301r1tv3yxreS3XdDpjjseHvwW6I5NhYmSIu7ER0A/w400-h323/IMG_7622.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div>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,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4hyIaQQ7AnMIB-n5f6nsd9ftYMvuV_JMJg4x7y8F1J8h6OEjSyIFeOHZMCfI0rYqxK_7IuiJFI5hoOinbN-Xl6d1ZIy1XrhtON80VGIsZICy39G3y9r-2ywpSsJwdCDdWV0rg0swHNZz9BWtLWbnaFwuBbSyVU3BzF5s8SB6m_c_9ZQy0lWgiQXie/s2149/IMG_7626.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1607" data-original-width="2149" height="299" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4hyIaQQ7AnMIB-n5f6nsd9ftYMvuV_JMJg4x7y8F1J8h6OEjSyIFeOHZMCfI0rYqxK_7IuiJFI5hoOinbN-Xl6d1ZIy1XrhtON80VGIsZICy39G3y9r-2ywpSsJwdCDdWV0rg0swHNZz9BWtLWbnaFwuBbSyVU3BzF5s8SB6m_c_9ZQy0lWgiQXie/w400-h299/IMG_7626.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj31StE56lS41tuPOlQR-JQ-xJ9_57hTALNFrtGDzSdhR2fkHhRsaoGmkbqKv0uN8N30sE_5KWGGDk8gjt9tHHp9uVfc96O1xwxRGhTTOWPYNxf5_V9ur-U0gftkUER4zMmujzrx17GFi3nPGaMh0NY4BKXTtJRm-A4ObpWaLIbCxX5Lvzo8c0F-S2C/s2368/IMG_7643.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1786" data-original-width="2368" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj31StE56lS41tuPOlQR-JQ-xJ9_57hTALNFrtGDzSdhR2fkHhRsaoGmkbqKv0uN8N30sE_5KWGGDk8gjt9tHHp9uVfc96O1xwxRGhTTOWPYNxf5_V9ur-U0gftkUER4zMmujzrx17GFi3nPGaMh0NY4BKXTtJRm-A4ObpWaLIbCxX5Lvzo8c0F-S2C/w400-h301/IMG_7643.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div>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. </div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSSQgtfdsPRF9rKZ1S7XgXogliIjHzg45_kFz3SbLiaKx9K9r4SMN6V1U7HxwZjJGkSJlvXDXvcRgd-kXX-KJe_9W_ife16_FyS1t_QtWOJirnYE91qVvg3RO0U7zm-7VGpMBORQGsdnGrmlcpMBnP5GMugvNqPfurblhJOK2hbQowvPw7m_VJeinp/s559/Ken2%20(2).JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="559" data-original-width="408" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSSQgtfdsPRF9rKZ1S7XgXogliIjHzg45_kFz3SbLiaKx9K9r4SMN6V1U7HxwZjJGkSJlvXDXvcRgd-kXX-KJe_9W_ife16_FyS1t_QtWOJirnYE91qVvg3RO0U7zm-7VGpMBORQGsdnGrmlcpMBnP5GMugvNqPfurblhJOK2hbQowvPw7m_VJeinp/w293-h400/Ken2%20(2).JPG" width="293" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My cut-off breeks - photo from a previous race</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div>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</div><div><br /></div><div>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!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimkrfjyu5DcXZuKPz4fXX2i2_ht0q8Nj7whd6zpFqayaV1em08UZu2p0Lg_wq3x6lGwNtZzLKTKWvTgXEdGpXQ-5fW3HJaJYOHrYRVGn9O0dJhbOMc5kwj_i7aTIFUMUF8rG37rTy0T8wOJ7HO0Lu1ZSj8WFcnzW6-sd5iJjMYZKCw_iUMSllzzAxI/s4164/IMG_7663.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2843" data-original-width="4164" height="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimkrfjyu5DcXZuKPz4fXX2i2_ht0q8Nj7whd6zpFqayaV1em08UZu2p0Lg_wq3x6lGwNtZzLKTKWvTgXEdGpXQ-5fW3HJaJYOHrYRVGn9O0dJhbOMc5kwj_i7aTIFUMUF8rG37rTy0T8wOJ7HO0Lu1ZSj8WFcnzW6-sd5iJjMYZKCw_iUMSllzzAxI/w400-h272/IMG_7663.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div>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!) </div><div><br /></div><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div>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? </div><div><br /></div><div>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! </div><div><br /></div><div>Steven is standing just past them and leads me round the final jinks and points me across the car park,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCP72KvoM8CoYnMDIIjpDLUriwVIlP1FFb5sVJinnei6hsfoqynLPnEehfn1NHfmv8VQFf7zcArE-R_LBbeGykj9bnHFjK6ub7ttRq5k2ZTOpE3PdJ9QloAFq-T38cfYTDswAfU00BJ_xyBBkZoMXaEXz4BibD-ASeXpmy69D5wXTfsXBNecegnw7F/s756/Ken2.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="756" data-original-width="642" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCP72KvoM8CoYnMDIIjpDLUriwVIlP1FFb5sVJinnei6hsfoqynLPnEehfn1NHfmv8VQFf7zcArE-R_LBbeGykj9bnHFjK6ub7ttRq5k2ZTOpE3PdJ9QloAFq-T38cfYTDswAfU00BJ_xyBBkZoMXaEXz4BibD-ASeXpmy69D5wXTfsXBNecegnw7F/w340-h400/Ken2.jpeg" width="340" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwsPVfHz9Zp7OrALvsLfNe3rIFo3_xLTTJ6LQJ3XTzieeUYFiGLQ5bpOe419p_0EgTKaOxpS2sIDkI3GOIGgtxeUbonnHZnYwgxmaqZnO4DIXZECudbHHTMC-tN9HU7SJlLLq8PPeyQyVJHNTYFObFhiFkVkvH3jlMzdFedEngvO6csp7og1p8tLmz/s850/Ken3.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="687" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwsPVfHz9Zp7OrALvsLfNe3rIFo3_xLTTJ6LQJ3XTzieeUYFiGLQ5bpOe419p_0EgTKaOxpS2sIDkI3GOIGgtxeUbonnHZnYwgxmaqZnO4DIXZECudbHHTMC-tN9HU7SJlLLq8PPeyQyVJHNTYFObFhiFkVkvH3jlMzdFedEngvO6csp7og1p8tLmz/w324-h400/Ken3.jpeg" width="324" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photos from Ken</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ5qL5GDzCZDBqxc74iqygtDHeSJrDDmHUKKMkx0lsy3iNXhpsrmUlpdAIBOMQ8RLtJHLdbvYSuL-Z30E0Ikk6MPan_3CAqNF0CLFokbMaF2yo0i_geaQ26WczfcZrng0Zjwce6ghGOLruYK3Dzb3hk9cp4j0ROJqJwL4ml-AeCn-1OujV5UsnrFbk/s2452/IMG_8836.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2018" data-original-width="2452" height="329" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ5qL5GDzCZDBqxc74iqygtDHeSJrDDmHUKKMkx0lsy3iNXhpsrmUlpdAIBOMQ8RLtJHLdbvYSuL-Z30E0Ikk6MPan_3CAqNF0CLFokbMaF2yo0i_geaQ26WczfcZrng0Zjwce6ghGOLruYK3Dzb3hk9cp4j0ROJqJwL4ml-AeCn-1OujV5UsnrFbk/w400-h329/IMG_8836.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>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. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI-cByrvHewgf19KmBtNlOESwDtodxWGP2BsTg_CO12xi7GyeGsPRod238hn4W_BjPhCCma6FqVUcBhxZFyQybjmUkPdO7DYznwYku6tAxWQ7SfOaGCEQ_TZLGHZnn_AR-DhHp9Fqwt45FTyNA8vxAWfYpno4QI3oVVhgsL7JsBxmjOXQJvs7UjStl/s1966/IMG_8844.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1641" data-original-width="1966" height="334" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI-cByrvHewgf19KmBtNlOESwDtodxWGP2BsTg_CO12xi7GyeGsPRod238hn4W_BjPhCCma6FqVUcBhxZFyQybjmUkPdO7DYznwYku6tAxWQ7SfOaGCEQ_TZLGHZnn_AR-DhHp9Fqwt45FTyNA8vxAWfYpno4QI3oVVhgsL7JsBxmjOXQJvs7UjStl/w400-h334/IMG_8844.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiadAOzAYHiL64lqcGuSlfwSh_UuBmDZR1H945uc9My0QOei0-vIlzts5KGFUzfmdylMo8bogQ3Uv7M6CTW8SBKuFGxZi7odvg7UCplsUeqChx6G6nWs1qRSgcXO7TBzPofDgj1vKOFSxawH5HPpCMq1jUO-odGEnVvZJbR0E9Yyx01q3gwnmCFsC21/s2347/IMG_8849.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1963" data-original-width="2347" height="335" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiadAOzAYHiL64lqcGuSlfwSh_UuBmDZR1H945uc9My0QOei0-vIlzts5KGFUzfmdylMo8bogQ3Uv7M6CTW8SBKuFGxZi7odvg7UCplsUeqChx6G6nWs1qRSgcXO7TBzPofDgj1vKOFSxawH5HPpCMq1jUO-odGEnVvZJbR0E9Yyx01q3gwnmCFsC21/w400-h335/IMG_8849.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvzdXvQrfSIW8hNSHElBayt31bfHcQBq8NagoDD9inXm-7aqgdNk8vct7kQRm-2qP6HZ3bU8KETkueoiv-6nuQlloXZmaJnsNbKcZggjetj8XCVOypQj8ICjUcRdlrGPtssOsdd1kJ7BYtLc8Cac6LG5UIF-PbMb80NvMrDRCH1F7iB8VMnZBqYC5b/s2009/IMG_8851.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="2009" height="344" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvzdXvQrfSIW8hNSHElBayt31bfHcQBq8NagoDD9inXm-7aqgdNk8vct7kQRm-2qP6HZ3bU8KETkueoiv-6nuQlloXZmaJnsNbKcZggjetj8XCVOypQj8ICjUcRdlrGPtssOsdd1kJ7BYtLc8Cac6LG5UIF-PbMb80NvMrDRCH1F7iB8VMnZBqYC5b/w400-h344/IMG_8851.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUHiJwfaxxPMsv15bh9B7cCsLTz9jR9P8DDHoy0NyWydLpTOSTsvBy60pXknQ-9NRF9lbdUXFqMAl5k2vtPvV6OeZIcAh4i15lN8vtlz6Pg0P1rrhLx2FVYDRYUjNbR0HkO6zQgRh66xrGpa4n4ZTHhs4on_HAw8VwFfkpjlaj9zn1IYfbZU9wcWV5/s1671/IMG_8854.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1666" data-original-width="1671" height="399" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUHiJwfaxxPMsv15bh9B7cCsLTz9jR9P8DDHoy0NyWydLpTOSTsvBy60pXknQ-9NRF9lbdUXFqMAl5k2vtPvV6OeZIcAh4i15lN8vtlz6Pg0P1rrhLx2FVYDRYUjNbR0HkO6zQgRh66xrGpa4n4ZTHhs4on_HAw8VwFfkpjlaj9zn1IYfbZU9wcWV5/w400-h399/IMG_8854.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHDDTfJyePK6BXlwUdxQcTNyjrRcuqkIy2-jWrcqPcsCf_ve9PwKagwZZFnm8lmJoEkLUVjR4U0VYXKy5J07ZJi-Ou-RZNMNEe-_4A-XCe5Tndq-YqaBkqrEAaEsTfImJc3L9oPsLyD0kzaTfQVqN1YAYg7_T8wqXZSGcmZfik9ESRkTBinwYvPEwV/s2115/IMG_8855.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1813" data-original-width="2115" height="343" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHDDTfJyePK6BXlwUdxQcTNyjrRcuqkIy2-jWrcqPcsCf_ve9PwKagwZZFnm8lmJoEkLUVjR4U0VYXKy5J07ZJi-Ou-RZNMNEe-_4A-XCe5Tndq-YqaBkqrEAaEsTfImJc3L9oPsLyD0kzaTfQVqN1YAYg7_T8wqXZSGcmZfik9ESRkTBinwYvPEwV/w400-h343/IMG_8855.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div>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! </div></div><div><br /></div><div>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. </div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIQhBQv2KV0JEdSJ-MpkSEtEk7XdNiMsqcZluCMeJCuQoPxjGKa_X57X4mrZGTmDzAlG4Ptp7odoSReM4lZTde8_j-PVWoZv6jcBM4OCihCfmDd2BLMSmbSdMNKLPz1xmjf9ARNHOjYzHeVylTvbzd7CuKq3K5GhfvHg0NaRtZpvuE01Kfx8JicHRF/s1401/Adrian%20(2).jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1164" data-original-width="1401" height="333" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIQhBQv2KV0JEdSJ-MpkSEtEk7XdNiMsqcZluCMeJCuQoPxjGKa_X57X4mrZGTmDzAlG4Ptp7odoSReM4lZTde8_j-PVWoZv6jcBM4OCihCfmDd2BLMSmbSdMNKLPz1xmjf9ARNHOjYzHeVylTvbzd7CuKq3K5GhfvHg0NaRtZpvuE01Kfx8JicHRF/w400-h333/Adrian%20(2).jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Neil and I have 32 Goblets between us.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh708Dp9gh7mVJtgKUJ8RTgpshR55Fzk6qWCJSukcv9hcABgasC42JNC5pRp7-9EkZ_2Osw_2cdx41eiCdFuLmA_82s2AgAJEbp3O89pTgol5wcIrAaBgGo3jq4NwKHgVLfBj7ti3BmSwwYvq8DeyRBYo2D1AZXxuViQs5nSu7IH00OQf1t1yUmKc_f/s2802/IMG_8859.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1528" data-original-width="2802" height="350" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh708Dp9gh7mVJtgKUJ8RTgpshR55Fzk6qWCJSukcv9hcABgasC42JNC5pRp7-9EkZ_2Osw_2cdx41eiCdFuLmA_82s2AgAJEbp3O89pTgol5wcIrAaBgGo3jq4NwKHgVLfBj7ti3BmSwwYvq8DeyRBYo2D1AZXxuViQs5nSu7IH00OQf1t1yUmKc_f/w640-h350/IMG_8859.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>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!</div><br /><br /><br />Fiona Renniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18268067089290474811noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475346168209566942.post-30919170943654327892022-04-08T12:31:00.000+00:002022-04-08T12:31:56.113+00:00The Gathering of Awesomeness<p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-073c1b97-7fff-f82c-4ca5-e20d6b191b8d"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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 </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">young track and field athletes were curious about who the "old people" were, the youngsters were informed “That’s the Ultra Squad!” </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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! </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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!</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbzVO3SDW2UR72nfB9sBhneOQ5_H5vwgQ-wTN90B515Biu3OJtK70FJOI5C5OH2vUA4QHiDa7eqENjECZiiRTc6YzVOppQ-J-a5bQ9vSPMe8Bcizcpi-wkIO-d2WjqjmcJ7DDcMhbROEtlkdVSeyUZEbDE8S1hfzGzaNzbqjtx_xEtkxqp2YAr7wOD/s1526/IMG_5160.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1188" data-original-width="1526" height="311" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbzVO3SDW2UR72nfB9sBhneOQ5_H5vwgQ-wTN90B515Biu3OJtK70FJOI5C5OH2vUA4QHiDa7eqENjECZiiRTc6YzVOppQ-J-a5bQ9vSPMe8Bcizcpi-wkIO-d2WjqjmcJ7DDcMhbROEtlkdVSeyUZEbDE8S1hfzGzaNzbqjtx_xEtkxqp2YAr7wOD/w400-h311/IMG_5160.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pauline's photo</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZc-ktFJ384obbyBuDJezRYL0qktfNgiT4fqWsBwT6_y87vpsPueHsM0qSHWiwBhKTppIltb_M2wgBb1DYlmZ8xgOepvzKWeN7LFakT-Foyrncf78Rt0IUYgoV9qAaWC3Jt7XR4Sm_0i96iuoLucyxQX4OrbktD29ZJLE5EJEQcRkEVLOzBK82c2Di/s1434/IMG_4910.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1110" data-original-width="1434" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZc-ktFJ384obbyBuDJezRYL0qktfNgiT4fqWsBwT6_y87vpsPueHsM0qSHWiwBhKTppIltb_M2wgBb1DYlmZ8xgOepvzKWeN7LFakT-Foyrncf78Rt0IUYgoV9qAaWC3Jt7XR4Sm_0i96iuoLucyxQX4OrbktD29ZJLE5EJEQcRkEVLOzBK82c2Di/w400-h310/IMG_4910.JPG" width="400" /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeJf6oHDbqAh2E0Ejv9yQm-OSNCqU2V-ECN696hWs9X7GXZkJ81KL_nojV5U7lYcW3CaTdI-Z_AY0YWXPCNELDL0bwMdoXtWjyasgxqNNsHHKRfF3WwvPoJVypyoHX5-cxSFAmxg1d6Tjl-cCmVSbmJI4OgmAxFRlzMWbA7u_VeV7AWIVm_jhMM9yw/s2298/IMG_4928.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1721" data-original-width="2298" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeJf6oHDbqAh2E0Ejv9yQm-OSNCqU2V-ECN696hWs9X7GXZkJ81KL_nojV5U7lYcW3CaTdI-Z_AY0YWXPCNELDL0bwMdoXtWjyasgxqNNsHHKRfF3WwvPoJVypyoHX5-cxSFAmxg1d6Tjl-cCmVSbmJI4OgmAxFRlzMWbA7u_VeV7AWIVm_jhMM9yw/w400-h300/IMG_4928.JPG" width="400" /></a></div></div>I took my camera round a couple of laps and Pauline snapped away for the rest of the day. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">I was revelling in just being here, just running and enjoying the company I was keeping. </span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVEi7kYDS6-2IgOmxKIicyfOupmZWnB5Pw3MSuO4y-24wkriG3rlx6ewrmQZK6vjfaoUNpFSw9m00Dj6HXEJmue7HrDNSzfbS6WGmLQ7Eou7uhxLOuB_BLVY506QhMdNzYClCnjQE5glhEWaEbRto28OWvaWrDSOI58kgbmc7-Z-SY8A_G1YOdZsf8/s1455/IMG_4958.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1455" data-original-width="1367" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVEi7kYDS6-2IgOmxKIicyfOupmZWnB5Pw3MSuO4y-24wkriG3rlx6ewrmQZK6vjfaoUNpFSw9m00Dj6HXEJmue7HrDNSzfbS6WGmLQ7Eou7uhxLOuB_BLVY506QhMdNzYClCnjQE5glhEWaEbRto28OWvaWrDSOI58kgbmc7-Z-SY8A_G1YOdZsf8/w376-h400/IMG_4958.JPG" width="376" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghJB38K1rMuf2yU65MCKr7TL501nD9W6niETGiCZdwYmkGfrUyX4TvMR6MXwJSruc2Js7vz1SyctgXe3fdgoTEwx-62Q3fZ2BJwLsuHTBk6d1SuxDYZM0XKS6VbwAtz7AG1rUY0ETM5ZHAxC4IOqhNq933HLok16l2LhNP5CjQSqpNL-z0amN5xxGT/s1202/IMG_4988.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1202" data-original-width="1070" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghJB38K1rMuf2yU65MCKr7TL501nD9W6niETGiCZdwYmkGfrUyX4TvMR6MXwJSruc2Js7vz1SyctgXe3fdgoTEwx-62Q3fZ2BJwLsuHTBk6d1SuxDYZM0XKS6VbwAtz7AG1rUY0ETM5ZHAxC4IOqhNq933HLok16l2LhNP5CjQSqpNL-z0amN5xxGT/w356-h400/IMG_4988.JPG" width="356" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf__1vAXMMdelsdB-LQdjr0A5wxTZcn-L3TGKHvg_cm0yJ1azfxXCVntjJPebvmxuGzA0CNHd6HaGSIhLlBJpOlDZigwrXLlTwxeZztb6zrrkdxw32EssqVZVUlmAW2i2Umf9s0l9braY-U5HT6XuApfJ37JSOwpwCcSpD0GoYFgXL-5UVnJk0k8XS/s2592/Steve%20Adams%202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Photo from Steve Adams" border="0" data-original-height="2592" data-original-width="2104" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf__1vAXMMdelsdB-LQdjr0A5wxTZcn-L3TGKHvg_cm0yJ1azfxXCVntjJPebvmxuGzA0CNHd6HaGSIhLlBJpOlDZigwrXLlTwxeZztb6zrrkdxw32EssqVZVUlmAW2i2Umf9s0l9braY-U5HT6XuApfJ37JSOwpwCcSpD0GoYFgXL-5UVnJk0k8XS/w325-h400/Steve%20Adams%202.jpg" width="325" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo from Steve Adam</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div><span style="font-size: 11pt;">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. </span></div></span><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNRfmgfveM6vChk6HfR1RExyALAm0dF0Vv-bzSs0fOYxOUrNtLzZNvhTeZr0VsK5CgyiLwV1aIb3ocEDxsbAZCSh4QftAS8Lclq7mjRDV42hgfzO79WRiaQIM7YifsgzCk_l05gbnSu_wzE5Ee3VOgaoZvZlcglFdsANlXDHp6EQlhPp4Bk-2yZPpp/s2344/IMG_5058.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1638" data-original-width="2344" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNRfmgfveM6vChk6HfR1RExyALAm0dF0Vv-bzSs0fOYxOUrNtLzZNvhTeZr0VsK5CgyiLwV1aIb3ocEDxsbAZCSh4QftAS8Lclq7mjRDV42hgfzO79WRiaQIM7YifsgzCk_l05gbnSu_wzE5Ee3VOgaoZvZlcglFdsANlXDHp6EQlhPp4Bk-2yZPpp/w400-h280/IMG_5058.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBu3cyNXINQS7c0FZuEine3U1Ru_H_-M3fvZHTCH4Kvq7KzqNgvBgKwozb3gmxf6QqBoyqbXC7RUWOZXfQo3fwhKus55GfmRAoASu97i4mPXO-Wsd0grYktKyYlQ2BoD0s61ssADn01E-qyl8cVWSLDreRnCBHj7ka6HYRHrSYukiF8uPahNw-sOn0/s1702/IMG_5068.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1325" data-original-width="1702" height="311" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBu3cyNXINQS7c0FZuEine3U1Ru_H_-M3fvZHTCH4Kvq7KzqNgvBgKwozb3gmxf6QqBoyqbXC7RUWOZXfQo3fwhKus55GfmRAoASu97i4mPXO-Wsd0grYktKyYlQ2BoD0s61ssADn01E-qyl8cVWSLDreRnCBHj7ka6HYRHrSYukiF8uPahNw-sOn0/w400-h311/IMG_5068.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTGdweogjLQgvdoxFxp3Vtyd6DbpWuAD68NBom_lf94wi3Jr5PsQXtZE5PMn2HZeIJlTh1X-CT6ZdptRmcglJuqozV0httoAh9A-LJXYK1LCdwdW3WOPErMrfEdxT5O00dmU47mAlEAYHEvJq0dIsTn59tnEvgdR4-3RF1vQkE0KT9XpGtsCc_fkTu/s1642/IMG_5090.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1253" data-original-width="1642" height="305" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTGdweogjLQgvdoxFxp3Vtyd6DbpWuAD68NBom_lf94wi3Jr5PsQXtZE5PMn2HZeIJlTh1X-CT6ZdptRmcglJuqozV0httoAh9A-LJXYK1LCdwdW3WOPErMrfEdxT5O00dmU47mAlEAYHEvJq0dIsTn59tnEvgdR4-3RF1vQkE0KT9XpGtsCc_fkTu/w400-h305/IMG_5090.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></div><div><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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! </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFz8j2Av_iVg7kII0APcmPbP-YmIkNVguHGu_DP9LyKRz5u-w0lwJqWyLL8WYeD-Frbmj490tDYzVa2lfeak7E0-sWu-gTRtyqnVfs3iAj2l0bDBg-Atcc4MvTUrq_seEBqjKlKBgCUuszg_gh-lgKAGI9v7t-rJuQmU1IVk9GoEHjm-YD9u_Ake9h/s1822/IMG_5308.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1822" data-original-width="1656" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFz8j2Av_iVg7kII0APcmPbP-YmIkNVguHGu_DP9LyKRz5u-w0lwJqWyLL8WYeD-Frbmj490tDYzVa2lfeak7E0-sWu-gTRtyqnVfs3iAj2l0bDBg-Atcc4MvTUrq_seEBqjKlKBgCUuszg_gh-lgKAGI9v7t-rJuQmU1IVk9GoEHjm-YD9u_Ake9h/w364-h400/IMG_5308.JPG" width="364" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I was really pleased with that! I expected to finish under six hours but hopefully closer to around five and half. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span><p></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT4OtDiHcPYQIZg_03DwZzixrXWdGNvbWG13GIyLXN-lJkLx5Kpz5waRdmpCRhAv8kmYzVaR5V5jBPaMdRBUHYdrCjFn2Tf4kUdc1usKz2-NXxNjdyPf8b2suQm8f_8MQbw5h2644YZCOimD9TiRqj-Lq2rYxvrstZjxltK5Q8QiKfpkY51weKcCHN/s1600/Speyside%20Way%201999.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1066" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT4OtDiHcPYQIZg_03DwZzixrXWdGNvbWG13GIyLXN-lJkLx5Kpz5waRdmpCRhAv8kmYzVaR5V5jBPaMdRBUHYdrCjFn2Tf4kUdc1usKz2-NXxNjdyPf8b2suQm8f_8MQbw5h2644YZCOimD9TiRqj-Lq2rYxvrstZjxltK5Q8QiKfpkY51weKcCHN/w400-h266/Speyside%20Way%201999.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Since then I’ve done eighteen 50km races, ten of them on hilly trails where you can’t really compare times. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">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! </span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg2c21TDrjUhrWuCUDP3npxmwLbyu-CwDOK692RmS1Nhqo67Og2CtiIYQxHKPtENdA6ZRqwGUXhUaCcYJH2g-YvVW3zOgrqnc-LCfzCquqBMSKYzeLF5KSXFJAVLHlXAnm8PiK6GqTataPnynaSRm661y5FHq6CfbW9I-B2ZsW6SG9x9EoxAtZA2eQ/s2049/IMG_5334.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1700" data-original-width="2049" height="331" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg2c21TDrjUhrWuCUDP3npxmwLbyu-CwDOK692RmS1Nhqo67Og2CtiIYQxHKPtENdA6ZRqwGUXhUaCcYJH2g-YvVW3zOgrqnc-LCfzCquqBMSKYzeLF5KSXFJAVLHlXAnm8PiK6GqTataPnynaSRm661y5FHq6CfbW9I-B2ZsW6SG9x9EoxAtZA2eQ/w400-h331/IMG_5334.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">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! </span><p></p><div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><br /></div><br />Fiona Renniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18268067089290474811noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475346168209566942.post-71330303738591303392021-09-18T16:17:00.008+00:002021-09-19T15:25:41.388+00:00Glenmore 24 2021<span id="docs-internal-guid-63005d46-7fff-9b09-10f3-ce5239d77c9a"><span style="font-family: arial;"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My first race in eighteen months and how wonderful for it to be Glenmore 24! </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Training over that time was more or less just ticking over, especially last year, just enough running to keep me happy. This year at the beginning of March Pauline and I planned to start doing some longer stuff but at the end of the month Pauline had a brain haemorrhage, sixteen years after I had one, was it a twinny thing? The medical profession was noncommittal but there is a possibility for it to run in families. Although we compared notes, the neurological fatigue has taken its toll but she’s managing her recovery well. So most of my running was solo and not the same without Pauline’s company, I just had a couple of twenty milers and one lovely 27 miler on the West Highland Way with Sue. With no races to hone my TTFU skills my goal was just to keep moving forward for 24 hours at whatever pace I was happy with and enjoy being back wearing a number with my ultra family. Standing on the start line was a privilege and not to be taken for granted, and after a wee wobble a week before the race Pauline would be standing on the start line too, for the 12 hour race. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pauline and I arrived in the Hayfield on Friday afternoon, we’d borrowed the club shelter </span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">(it’s not a tent)</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-d39GfaKBChw/YUYHEN0WVOI/AAAAAAAAHgM/tHVkRm3D7I8LiZjL62FMY4ic0z-cZemqACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_20210903_173524.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1605" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-d39GfaKBChw/YUYHEN0WVOI/AAAAAAAAHgM/tHVkRm3D7I8LiZjL62FMY4ic0z-cZemqACLcBGAsYHQ/w314-h400/IMG_20210903_173524.jpg" width="314" /></a></div><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">we got it set up with our race stuff and put up our pop-up tents in the marquee for sleeping in, there has been a lot of hoops for Bill to jump through to get the race organised this year, a huge amount of hard work sorting out the problems, thank you Bill, for persevering. </span></span></span><div><span><span style="font-family: arial;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZeTNLG2ZXws/YUYIfaF-JAI/AAAAAAAAHgk/jVJKWGMo7XEpQEY-9nXH87cTsGBcgFRtQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2222/IMG_7701.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1330" data-original-width="2222" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZeTNLG2ZXws/YUYIfaF-JAI/AAAAAAAAHgk/jVJKWGMo7XEpQEY-9nXH87cTsGBcgFRtQCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h240/IMG_7701.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">There was no pre-race party but lovely to catch up with folks I haven’t seen in ages before heading off to bed in my wee tent. It was cosy enough with three blankets over my sleeping bag, and surprisingly it wasn’t cold anyway. In the morning I didn’t have to rush, it was nice just to take my time having two pots of porridge and get ready. Gillian and Val arrived to do support so we registered and I fastened my number to my number belt with my lucky pins, (I’ve used them to pin on every race number since my first marathon in 1992!)</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4mZHstYU4CSI1I9IvIJ5G7FFobgcNW5GMkwD5T4TNMMSZX_mWiCidtH8kSpMIOOEjiob2qItbOxPgktBo3TK3qfqMByNb97zonxfn1R6tOUWDrkSYNYY1P15JFTvx9JjsSN83G_BYREo/s1782/IMG_7751.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1470" data-original-width="1782" height="330" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4mZHstYU4CSI1I9IvIJ5G7FFobgcNW5GMkwD5T4TNMMSZX_mWiCidtH8kSpMIOOEjiob2qItbOxPgktBo3TK3qfqMByNb97zonxfn1R6tOUWDrkSYNYY1P15JFTvx9JjsSN83G_BYREo/w400-h330/IMG_7751.JPG" width="400" /></a></div></span></span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">12.00noon, Wooooohooooo! We were off, I said to Pauline I’d stay with her round the Hayfield and down the narrow lumpy path to the right turn... at the top of the grassy hill just before leaving the Hayfield I looked around but she was nowhere to be seen, then I spotted her with Helen at the back of the pack. Ooops! I didn’t realise in my excitement I scampered off like a puppy that saw the gate was open! </span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Dk_wbuDR-3A/YUYItwghuVI/AAAAAAAAHgo/3gJ86bQrLCQHfwsvV3OwI68RV0V6drHhACLcBGAsYHQ/s1219/IMG_7773.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1129" data-original-width="1219" height="370" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Dk_wbuDR-3A/YUYItwghuVI/AAAAAAAAHgo/3gJ86bQrLCQHfwsvV3OwI68RV0V6drHhACLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h370/IMG_7773.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;">First lap I soaked up the beauty of the 4 mile loop, long time, no see, the winding lumpy bumpy mile through the trees, the wide track. I called it “the long run” in 2011 because I always run it all (not so much this year) the long uphill mile and the downhill hill mile. On my second lap I took my camera, the sun was shining, it was roasty toasty, I even pushed up my sleeves and took off my Buff, running nice and easy. I wasn’t over heating, in a race this long if you’re too hot, you’re going too fast.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DjVoUBzmkcU/YUYMZpMhBBI/AAAAAAAAHhk/tHHqwMvjLTA6NTdvnplGhNHSlGjo_hOIQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1912/IMG_8164.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1546" data-original-width="1912" height="324" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DjVoUBzmkcU/YUYMZpMhBBI/AAAAAAAAHhk/tHHqwMvjLTA6NTdvnplGhNHSlGjo_hOIQCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h324/IMG_8164.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRe3ew9VPcHV1OOl82LXhRUrw7yos8wYN8Ct3Hsi2L1w041XwtdHVd5WvSOW0OiaJITX28ECxN5GssXQu2RL_FRLYtj42g1sDzXDglCvDEsvl0hVJpGIdYvyUtQNuylpBD5ZqepJkjETA/s1138/IMG_7798.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="813" data-original-width="1138" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRe3ew9VPcHV1OOl82LXhRUrw7yos8wYN8Ct3Hsi2L1w041XwtdHVd5WvSOW0OiaJITX28ECxN5GssXQu2RL_FRLYtj42g1sDzXDglCvDEsvl0hVJpGIdYvyUtQNuylpBD5ZqepJkjETA/w400-h286/IMG_7798.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RNCmvjwDKbQ/YUYKZf3RgaI/AAAAAAAAHg8/4Ck1bZskSXcDrSWqHFiEU976pMqneBF8QCLcBGAsYHQ/s2043/IMG_7820.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1522" data-original-width="2043" height="297" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RNCmvjwDKbQ/YUYKZf3RgaI/AAAAAAAAHg8/4Ck1bZskSXcDrSWqHFiEU976pMqneBF8QCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h297/IMG_7820.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YgG-Ly_pzY4/YUYKxATt3VI/AAAAAAAAHhE/dt3zLKhSpZgq2gWYBKGLKsfHzspUBddXACLcBGAsYHQ/s1357/IMG_7973.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="994" data-original-width="1357" height="293" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YgG-Ly_pzY4/YUYKxATt3VI/AAAAAAAAHhE/dt3zLKhSpZgq2gWYBKGLKsfHzspUBddXACLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h293/IMG_7973.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1qWwNXNDmCk/YUYLQjSFPzI/AAAAAAAAHhM/yyblekaktdEh3U9cEpdJUM4Kwj7CX9aRwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2495/IMG_8031.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1868" data-original-width="2495" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1qWwNXNDmCk/YUYLQjSFPzI/AAAAAAAAHhM/yyblekaktdEh3U9cEpdJUM4Kwj7CX9aRwCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h300/IMG_8031.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RJ7BIOE_OX0/YUYMI4uqSZI/AAAAAAAAHhc/HodNE_X8CtEgu6dnwiF_iLL57-HIibEQQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1514/IMG_8047.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1027" data-original-width="1514" height="271" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RJ7BIOE_OX0/YUYMI4uqSZI/AAAAAAAAHhc/HodNE_X8CtEgu6dnwiF_iLL57-HIibEQQCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h271/IMG_8047.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;">After three laps revelling in my surrounding and company, I went past my crew, they were sitting comfortably chatting with Pauline, she’d just completed 2 laps, her longest run since March and was having a tea-break, but no Diva strop from me, but I laughingly shouted “You lot are rubbish, lucky I don’t need anything anyway.” I was happily just plodding away picking up a milkshake or custard most laps and around 7.00pm I had some macaroni cheese. As the sun started to dip, I picked up my arm warmers but I carried them for a wee while before I put them on. The sky was overcast so no pink hues reflected on the Loch Morlich this year but at least the cloud cover would stop it becoming baltic. With not having any races for ages, one thing I haven’t practiced is eating on the hoof and I thought that if I was going to have any problems it would be my guts and I wasn’t wrong, around 40 miles I first felt a bit of a stitch. Another lap, it progressed to being quite uncomfortable, I was using a wee bum-bag and it was starting to put pressure on my stomach so I swapped to a race vest (I still think a race vest is a singlet made of acrylic fabric in club colours, I must be old) I was hoping that would ease things, at the same time I might as well pull on a long sleeved top and take my iPod, it was dark and time for tunes. After a few dry heaves I eased back a bit more and managed to hold on to the soup I’d had, that’s fine, as long as I moved forward, the pace wasn’t important. </span></p><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">After 11.00pm the 12 hour race was in its final hour and on the wee loops, I arrived in the Hayfield, Pauline came motoring down the hill and shouted “Coming through!” as she barged by me. Ha ha ha! Absolutely bloody brilliant to see! But she’s not the only one that can shout. “COME ON!” I yelled, “ALRIGHT!” was her reply, we’ve been bellowing the lyrics of Runrig’s Clash of the Ash at each other since the 24 hour race round the Inches at Perth in 2008, (where she’d set the Scottish record for 100 miles, 200km and 24 hours covering 130 miles.) </span></span></p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">She’d had a minimum target of half marathon distance but hoped for 4 laps, and moved the goal posts as she carried on and completed 6 laps, 24 miles before it got dark then rested until the wee loop opened and targeted 2.2 miles for a marathon, still the class athlete, Pauline carried on for a cheeky wee ultra finishing with 27.76 miles. I knew she’d do it! </span></span></p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">While Pauline was being the conquering hero I also had a wee smile to myself, I’d just completed my 900th Glenmore mile and that gave me a boost through the night.</span></span></p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">I’d had loads of lovely wee chats with friends old and new and now that the 12 hour had finished there were quite a few moments of solitude, luckily for me I was on my own when I was boaking, I feel that that’s a wee bit like yawning in company, when one person starts so does everyone else, and I’m glad I didn’t inflict that on anyone. I also had a lap of trying to keep my eyes open and not fall asleep on my feet, even that made me smile, even though it was not my favourite point in the race, it's been two years since I’ve been in this position and I knew it would pass, a mug of hot chocolate/coffee combo would help too. I looked up, the sky was clearing and the stars were starting to sparkle. It did get a bit chillier and I put on my tea-cosy of a hat and a pair of gloves but I didn’t need the hundreds of layers that were necessary in 2019, just one more thermal top and fleece. </span></span></p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Every year I seem to have a very special moment to cherish, and this year what started as an exercise in keeping my breathing deep, slow and even to stave off the dry heaves turned into a special memory. Not all the music on my eight hour “Run Forever” playlist are bangin’ choons, some are slow and peaceful, evoking my visualisation of a swan, the top half moving forward, relaxed, beautifully serene and graceful while it’s big feet are going like the clappers under the water. In reality I might look like a shuffling sack o’ tatties but I’ll hang on to my delusion and embrace my inner swan. I was on my own walking up the long hill and began to sing out softly along to a beautiful version of Wild Mountain Thyme, with my surroundings and the stars shining their magic on me. I was a smidge emotional at the end, this was a moment that would never happen anywhere else. </span></span></p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The sky slowly lightened and the sun eventually peeped up over the trees. I was with Mairi coming up the hill and she captured the beautiful sunrise. </span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2td1RiqR-sA/YUYNkl465uI/AAAAAAAAHhs/e87ddNrsy48OEhS4HujwEZNjoa7jC1ifgCLcBGAsYHQ/s615/Mairi%2BFox%2B%25282%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="574" data-original-width="615" height="374" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2td1RiqR-sA/YUYNkl465uI/AAAAAAAAHhs/e87ddNrsy48OEhS4HujwEZNjoa7jC1ifgCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h374/Mairi%2BFox%2B%25282%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo from Mairi Fox</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">A beautiful morning with mist lying on Loch Morlich. </span></span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2nHVNS2cjbQ/YUYOJ6TaftI/AAAAAAAAHh0/FoW47qZfiVs3dODmH9bFMgQrkVlcUgh0QCLcBGAsYHQ/s960/Lorna%2BMaclean.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="663" data-original-width="960" height="276" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2nHVNS2cjbQ/YUYOJ6TaftI/AAAAAAAAHh0/FoW47qZfiVs3dODmH9bFMgQrkVlcUgh0QCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h276/Lorna%2BMaclean.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo from Lorna MacLean</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">I warmed up as the sun rose, I took off my tea-cosy, gloves and fleece, and had a pot of porridge, my stomach was fine as long as I didn’t work too hard so I just maintained my determined plod. At around 8.00am I looked at my watch and sussed that as long as I stayed steady I’d make West Highland Way distance with 24 laps, and that would be absolutely brilliant. I didn’t have the inclination to run myself into the ground to attempt the 100 miles, I doubted my guts would’ve let me anyway and I wasn't going to spoil a beautiful day trying, I even eased back a little in my final three laps, I would still have around half an hour on the wee laps, enough time for some fun without having the stress of trying to complete the lap before 12.00noon. Normally I’d hit the wee loops like a hamster on amphetamines squeezing out every yard I could so it was a novelty going round at a civilised pace, and 98 miles would be perfect, 99 would just annoy me! (A good excuse not to knock my pan in!) It was Pauline’s turn to bellow “COME ON!” at me.</span></span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Y_ON6SzH1uY/YUYOmsd4Y2I/AAAAAAAAHh8/1bYJw5mZ_lcUvOTVW24ZqI7ux-v611BxwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1650/IMG_8170.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1646" data-original-width="1650" height="399" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Y_ON6SzH1uY/YUYOmsd4Y2I/AAAAAAAAHh8/1bYJw5mZ_lcUvOTVW24ZqI7ux-v611BxwCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h399/IMG_8170.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;">It was wonderful to see others realise their goals and get the horn from Ada. Neil MacRitchie had gone out for a 27th lap with a bit of time to spare as long as he maintained his pace, but he must’ve been waving cheerio to every clump of heather, or hugging every tree, bye bye! Folk were panicking, the clock was ticking down to the final horn, he came into sight. The noise that was directed at him could be translated as “NEIL, MOVE YER ARSE!” Yay! He made it with seconds to spare! 108 miles! The rest of us poked our tent peg into the ground for our final distance to be measured. 98.05 miles for me, just perfect! </span><p></p><span style="font-family: arial;"><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EW49B-zwmjc/YUYPY3R8YFI/AAAAAAAAHiE/titXO3Ts4vEuDF0KnJKXz9-eqjXddl8RgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_7933.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1132" data-original-width="2048" height="221" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EW49B-zwmjc/YUYPY3R8YFI/AAAAAAAAHiE/titXO3Ts4vEuDF0KnJKXz9-eqjXddl8RgCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h221/IMG_7933.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Glenmore 24, thank you so much for another wonderful 24 hours! Bill, all the work you’ve put in to get the race on in these difficult times, every marshal, every runner, every support crew, you are all part of the magic that realises goals set, whether distance, reaffirming health or just the joy of being there. Over the years I have been lucky enough to excel in all these categories. </span></div></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">If all goes well for next year I’ll be running my 10th Glenmore 24 (in 2013 I had a special wee 6 hour run) but it will be my 13th 24 hour race and on my 13th lap I will complete 1000 Glenmore 24 miles. If that happens I will consider myself truly lucky. </span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span><br /></div>Fiona Renniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18268067089290474811noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475346168209566942.post-77658360026560850482021-08-08T18:11:00.000+00:002021-08-08T18:11:51.494+00:00Ally K's Long Run<p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">At last! Ally’s Long Run was going ahead after being postponed from last year. His challenge raising funds for the Highland Hospice and his route would be starting in Milngavie, going up the West Highland Way to Fort William, followed by the Great Glen Way to Fort Augustus then moving on to the road and the Loch Ness Marathon route, finishing at the Hospice which is situated in the final half mile of the marathon, estimated at 180 miles and giving himself 70 hours to complete it. </span></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-24f30f9a-7fff-9734-7d40-3483e9cfba77"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Logistics meant Ken took his car up to Inverness full of all our adventure supplies on Tuesday, he was leaving his car there for coming home afterwards. The rest of the Fifers, Pauline, Sue and myself caught the bus to Milngavie Wednesday afternoon to meet with the rest of the team. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JvT4HM2uPYs/YQ_3nu-NQLI/AAAAAAAAHT0/L9Wxxgp3zMAXkQ2LvKehpEDi3MAuZEbaACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_20210728_143349%2B%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1684" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JvT4HM2uPYs/YQ_3nu-NQLI/AAAAAAAAHT0/L9Wxxgp3zMAXkQ2LvKehpEDi3MAuZEbaACLcBGAsYHQ/w329-h400/IMG_20210728_143349%2B%25282%2529.jpg" width="329" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Douglas - Driving the safety vehicle making sure we all got to Inverness without being roadkill.</span></span><div><span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Graham - Keeping Ally going with physio and food. </span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ken - Joining Graham in his van to look after Ally. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Donna - A gold medalist in the multi-tasking category, driving the big team van with all our kit, keeping us all fed and watered plus updating social media. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Andy, Sue and myself - Pacers, keeping Ally company and moving forward.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pauline - Still recovering from the brain hemorrhage she had at the end of March wasn’t going to do much in the way of running but would be Donna’s lovely assistant in the chuck wagon. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Also Lewis, Ally and Donna’s son, he was there for the banter, and to eat the abundant supply of doughnuts and pot noodles. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">John and Helen were joining us at Tyndrum</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">After we had a meal, it was time to get ready for the 10.00pm start, friends and family were gathering, and an unexpected surprise for Ally, his brother and sister living in Northumberland had driven up to see him off. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ECwaL8rr-ms/YQ_4wzO4oTI/AAAAAAAAHUQ/5ulhXxSS-2U8YfBQ1Pru0yq6yzRmnEKRgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_7774.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1375" data-original-width="2048" height="269" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ECwaL8rr-ms/YQ_4wzO4oTI/AAAAAAAAHUQ/5ulhXxSS-2U8YfBQ1Pru0yq6yzRmnEKRgCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h269/IMG_7774.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5HNCBKm18Ls/YQ_4-r-CSmI/AAAAAAAAHUU/DE3TP_OM0oUpzjUeRpbsM4-ke4Hl9pYqgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1952/IMG_7786.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1381" data-original-width="1952" height="283" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5HNCBKm18Ls/YQ_4-r-CSmI/AAAAAAAAHUU/DE3TP_OM0oUpzjUeRpbsM4-ke4Hl9pYqgCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h283/IMG_7786.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYBqXNcYu7_nAbRiiVjfYBQwc_xkB4wjXBA-6cU8UShMJ7sjN4BUXX2JLzLG0PKq8q5ZPtHsYR-XWEISasLakKMwfwTJ27T6gL2r_OX02N-HKHQ1BTYyrWSTuTF_ccdx_PzOFOjFtni8g/s2048/IMG_7778.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1446" data-original-width="2048" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYBqXNcYu7_nAbRiiVjfYBQwc_xkB4wjXBA-6cU8UShMJ7sjN4BUXX2JLzLG0PKq8q5ZPtHsYR-XWEISasLakKMwfwTJ27T6gL2r_OX02N-HKHQ1BTYyrWSTuTF_ccdx_PzOFOjFtni8g/w400-h283/IMG_7778.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qolxvtKoYnA/YQ_5ZwdIvyI/AAAAAAAAHUk/97YVkmBrnJoICKAltyzP1zZaA6DNFcUnQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1860/IMG_7793.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1437" data-original-width="1860" height="309" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qolxvtKoYnA/YQ_5ZwdIvyI/AAAAAAAAHUk/97YVkmBrnJoICKAltyzP1zZaA6DNFcUnQCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h309/IMG_7793.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ally was having two runners with him for the first night, Sue was running the first 12 mile section to Drymen then Andy was taking over, also Robbie, a Calmac colleague and speedy runner averaging just over 18 hours over four West Highland Way races slowed his normal pace to accompany Ally from the start to Rowardennan. </span><p></p><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RwimlJRO4Dk/YQ_5-HzSadI/AAAAAAAAHUs/pJ5l2ht-DOE6EbVCHsCFVDsHCZyeeu6gwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_7802.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1523" data-original-width="2048" height="297" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RwimlJRO4Dk/YQ_5-HzSadI/AAAAAAAAHUs/pJ5l2ht-DOE6EbVCHsCFVDsHCZyeeu6gwCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h297/IMG_7802.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coming into Drymen</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pdxLWnxsh1g/YQ_6IA1gekI/AAAAAAAAHUw/ENQvTFyTqAEBzlbRb6DqtE0yaWKNv-HrwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_7803.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" data-original-height="1575" data-original-width="2048" height="308" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pdxLWnxsh1g/YQ_6IA1gekI/AAAAAAAAHUw/ENQvTFyTqAEBzlbRb6DqtE0yaWKNv-HrwCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h308/IMG_7803.JPG" width="400" /></a></div></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">I called shotgun for the loch side. It's one of my favourite sections on the West Highland Way, it’s quite technical and slow going, a lot of runners don’t like it, I think because they are not banging out their average race pace, but you just have to embrace it, all the wee clambers, big steps and wee shuffles give your running legs a rest, and you can expect an occasional 20 minute mile! I’d call that pretty good going! Also, having done a lot of races on the WHW I think I know the best line to take over the rough ground and would lead Ally safely over the scramby bits. </span></div><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Graham and Ken drove along to Rowerdennan to drop me off and pick up Robbie, the rest of the team left Balmaha to go straight to Inverarnan and take the chance of a decent rest, Ally and I won’t see them for over five hours. It was around 6.00am when we left Rowardennan, the weather was dull with a little light rain but pretty good conditions. The undergrowth was thick and bushy, the spiders must have been busy through the night, their threads strung across the path tickling my face. It was happening constantly, that it was starting to give me the heeby-jeebies. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tusnkPUnwUQ/YQ_9xLhC-PI/AAAAAAAAHVw/SN6-mGR91wEWDTwe2KG-C0ymGwpfyMAWwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2138/IMG_6296.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1944" data-original-width="2138" height="364" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tusnkPUnwUQ/YQ_9xLhC-PI/AAAAAAAAHVw/SN6-mGR91wEWDTwe2KG-C0ymGwpfyMAWwCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h364/IMG_6296.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I thought the bracken was tall here...wait until the climb to Dario's post!</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">We were making good progress, moving fine and steady, taking it cautiously over the tricky bits, we paused briefly to refuel at Inversnaid before taking on the really tricky terrain along to the top of the loch, </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XNNFmQWcy78/YQ_8DZ4jiII/AAAAAAAAHVM/FI9wnnygOpYeqbTE_zU7uYqeCRMElVxVgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2042/IMG_6328.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1611" data-original-width="2042" height="315" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XNNFmQWcy78/YQ_8DZ4jiII/AAAAAAAAHVM/FI9wnnygOpYeqbTE_zU7uYqeCRMElVxVgCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h315/IMG_6328.JPG" width="400" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0YT0FX25IW6Bxcs4wuMzObOh98qQPUVYVg8DLBgZ56IrUDmPprqxTUSacV8pURuueBEVz-WKbEjgbWaizWgsewrpAv5PCKTzE3r59T3YrKOesTQZT0XgCyTMTH8C_Rn3r478Li6po47I/s1771/IMG_6379.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1584" data-original-width="1771" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0YT0FX25IW6Bxcs4wuMzObOh98qQPUVYVg8DLBgZ56IrUDmPprqxTUSacV8pURuueBEVz-WKbEjgbWaizWgsewrpAv5PCKTzE3r59T3YrKOesTQZT0XgCyTMTH8C_Rn3r478Li6po47I/w400-h358/IMG_6379.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-X7ajKv0GnZE/YQ_8uIE-aOI/AAAAAAAAHVc/iUq0XQ8HIkk1UsNMadYVHFBt7OLL7iBfQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1446/IMG_6385.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="995" data-original-width="1446" height="275" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-X7ajKv0GnZE/YQ_8uIE-aOI/AAAAAAAAHVc/iUq0XQ8HIkk1UsNMadYVHFBt7OLL7iBfQCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h275/IMG_6385.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">there has been a fair bit of erosion since I was last along, when I dropped down a narrow gap between two boulders I’m sure the ground never used to be so far away, I jammed my bum between the boulders before hitting the ground, that’s never happened before! Ally leaned his poles against the boulder so he could use both hands to drop down, one of the poles slid off down the banking, luckily it stopped before hitting the water. Oh well, I suppose it’s part of my job to retrieve it. I managed to scramble down to it without too much difficulty and glad I didn’t end up in the loch either. </span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">I have never seen the bracken so overgrown before, it enclosed the path and well over six foot tall in places, there was no running through it, I couldn’t see where I was putting my feet, just pushing our way through wishing I’d brought a machete, </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BSEWiW1JaeQ/YQ_9PT9JNII/AAAAAAAAHVo/ow_qUaeZqr0cZYUw9o9_wPLv27a8lmqIwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2307/IMG_6493.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1707" data-original-width="2307" height="296" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BSEWiW1JaeQ/YQ_9PT9JNII/AAAAAAAAHVo/ow_qUaeZqr0cZYUw9o9_wPLv27a8lmqIwCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h296/IMG_6493.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO1oEhWNzmPvWHA5g6CwZJCJfu8Uj7W32X9n9lAUlliaGODH9e1yJKcgRwesF06ywAqA0VPLEnvUeSS0PNIRjdRl37pocuP7P2cHmtZW9avnE3sijESf5Yscj6az5TGbKSzXwNq0Vru8Y/s1875/IMG_6511.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1374" data-original-width="1875" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO1oEhWNzmPvWHA5g6CwZJCJfu8Uj7W32X9n9lAUlliaGODH9e1yJKcgRwesF06ywAqA0VPLEnvUeSS0PNIRjdRl37pocuP7P2cHmtZW9avnE3sijESf5Yscj6az5TGbKSzXwNq0Vru8Y/w400-h293/IMG_6511.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Spot the Ally!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ally was quite relieved when we reached the flat grassy bit and we could have a few wee shuffles to remind the legs how to run. As we approached the climb up to Dario’s post I pushed on a wee bit to get the hip-flask out, it’s a special spot to pause for reflection. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2WlAHHtvbIo/YQ_-93Tb87I/AAAAAAAAHWA/251jyib_ip4b2qQUjCH-pXzTpEuXk7lpQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2260/IMG_6532.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1615" data-original-width="2260" height="286" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2WlAHHtvbIo/YQ_-93Tb87I/AAAAAAAAHWA/251jyib_ip4b2qQUjCH-pXzTpEuXk7lpQCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h286/IMG_6532.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--57-6tt5ioc/YQ__I-YMxCI/AAAAAAAAHWE/H8k6l8arUxksnEdG88cJv5pWlkVotLujgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2125/IMG_6554.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1528" data-original-width="2125" height="288" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--57-6tt5ioc/YQ__I-YMxCI/AAAAAAAAHWE/H8k6l8arUxksnEdG88cJv5pWlkVotLujgCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h288/IMG_6554.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fQ3Lk48NTx4/YRABXLOlVEI/AAAAAAAAHWs/Hi1gd32yTdEw0eDph4Zsk4V9y79MzJF6QCLcBGAsYHQ/s2364/IMG_6560.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1840" data-original-width="2364" height="311" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fQ3Lk48NTx4/YRABXLOlVEI/AAAAAAAAHWs/Hi1gd32yTdEw0eDph4Zsk4V9y79MzJF6QCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h311/IMG_6560.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Beinglas isn’t far away now, around half an hour and we’ll be back with the team. As we got closer I pushed on to herald Ally’s arrival, hopefully he enjoyed a wee seat, a chicken roll and a mug of tea.</span></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div><span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Sn-WjGrWUxk/YRABw_EsdDI/AAAAAAAAHW4/o1e7cvYoPlYKsEhEKcglSkXLxJpd2IcgQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2369/IMG_6565.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1787" data-original-width="2369" height="301" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Sn-WjGrWUxk/YRABw_EsdDI/AAAAAAAAHW4/o1e7cvYoPlYKsEhEKcglSkXLxJpd2IcgQCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h301/IMG_6565.JPG" width="400" /></a></div></span><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Sue was now with Ally after his brief stop and would see him into Auchtertyre, this section isn’t much easier, you can get some steady running in between a few long climbs as long as you watch your feet and once into the forest above Crianlarich, known in the WHW family as the rollercoaster, and for good reason, there’s long steep swoops up and down until you cross the A82 and onto tarmac leading to Auchtertyre. </span></div></span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Andy took over from Sue leading the trek through Tyndrum and the open path where you can see the long ribbon of the track stretching ahead with Ben Dorain standing aloof and majestic as you pass by. </span></p><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eJsQ33XT_pI/YRACTuxXjYI/AAAAAAAAHXA/yDgCzWX4Y94Cim5Xz3ByaG51S_8gaLlmQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1989/IMG_7816.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="1989" height="309" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eJsQ33XT_pI/YRACTuxXjYI/AAAAAAAAHXA/yDgCzWX4Y94Cim5Xz3ByaG51S_8gaLlmQCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h309/IMG_7816.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">From Bridge of Orchy, Douglas gave his legs a stretch and went over the hill and down into Inveroran with Ally, great to see him have a bit of time with Ally without having to be the responsible adult in charge. </span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AMfEABfCNb4/YRACgPTotBI/AAAAAAAAHXE/wgUSeMScHNo1lc_EKXyX4TAoMwUGCQXtgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1761/IMG_7856.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1441" data-original-width="1761" height="328" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AMfEABfCNb4/YRACgPTotBI/AAAAAAAAHXE/wgUSeMScHNo1lc_EKXyX4TAoMwUGCQXtgCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h328/IMG_7856.JPG" width="400" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-N1HOt2P2UL0/YRACriW3a3I/AAAAAAAAHXM/K2G08jNvJUQ-oTfMAsKF6BVCIBaSGw3XwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_7865.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1471" data-original-width="2048" height="288" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-N1HOt2P2UL0/YRACriW3a3I/AAAAAAAAHXM/K2G08jNvJUQ-oTfMAsKF6BVCIBaSGw3XwCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h288/IMG_7865.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Nadia and Ewen from the Inveroran Hotel were marvelous in supporting Ally, hosting a barbeque in his honour and raising over £750 for the Highland Hospice, also giving the team a good feed before heading into the second night. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Z2UD-SBuPlU/YRADxr8RUHI/AAAAAAAAHXg/-ZIZaawg44MuFX0hIOAcHHI86LKfqBD5ACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Inveroran%2BHotel.jpg1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Z2UD-SBuPlU/YRADxr8RUHI/AAAAAAAAHXg/-ZIZaawg44MuFX0hIOAcHHI86LKfqBD5ACLcBGAsYHQ/w300-h400/Inveroran%2BHotel.jpg1.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo credit - Inveroran Hotel</td></tr></tbody></table></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Mnvt0xbEcGw/YRADPH6oqFI/AAAAAAAAHXY/Y6u7oZ-iZww__DxLozDmkgzG5PHFvlv6ACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Inveroran%2BHotel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Mnvt0xbEcGw/YRADPH6oqFI/AAAAAAAAHXY/Y6u7oZ-iZww__DxLozDmkgzG5PHFvlv6ACLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h300/Inveroran%2BHotel.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo credit - Inveroran Hotel</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9eYeKrbnZD6-D_hsPaiLqUgYUUgFW7XIVU3gwIs7JodEBdfdCW0nsw_yJMSIEFG2v4xU57N4TtbuF6LsjFJ-jVnLoZmJ9tmXn1YmbSuNiWama5FVNiZl5lRnnA25vY8f9Z4qOtZsk360/s2048/IMG_7888.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1417" data-original-width="2048" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9eYeKrbnZD6-D_hsPaiLqUgYUUgFW7XIVU3gwIs7JodEBdfdCW0nsw_yJMSIEFG2v4xU57N4TtbuF6LsjFJ-jVnLoZmJ9tmXn1YmbSuNiWama5FVNiZl5lRnnA25vY8f9Z4qOtZsk360/w400-h276/IMG_7888.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Uoz_UKY8wr8/YRAFYCDhMqI/AAAAAAAAHXw/QTcuv00WS-ARQkro9062HZHZCLpA4b68QCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_7875.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1361" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Uoz_UKY8wr8/YRAFYCDhMqI/AAAAAAAAHXw/QTcuv00WS-ARQkro9062HZHZCLpA4b68QCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h266/IMG_7875.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It was my turn again to keep Ally company over Rannoch Moor, I’d had a lie down in the back of the van, I can’t say I slept and was cold and dozy when I surfaced, but I’d been resting and I knew I would perk up and warm up once I got moving. Ally and I left the hotel around 9.00pm easing back into our stride, it’s a long steady climb onto the Moor, the sky was overcast, we plodded on while we still had some light but it wasn’t long until darkness fell, with the heavy cloud there wasn’t going to be any stars to guide us, no mountains in silhouette to mark our progress, just our head torches shining a circle of light on front of us, this was the start of Ally’s second night and he’d been moving forward for over twenty-four hours so I expected him to have a dip, and he did, he was using having a drink or a wee nibble as an excuse to stop, I didn’t bully him to keep moving but I did my best to prevent his stalling, “I’ll hold your poles while you’re getting your stuff, just keep it at a stroll while your faffing!” I know the West Highland Way well but I’ve never gone over Rannoch Moor in the pitch black, normally I’d look up into the distance for Peter Fleming’s Memorial Cairn and aim for it, it was just our legs letting us know we were on the climb up to it, it’s a very long slog and we just worked away at it, I was surprised when my legs were telling my weren’t climbing any more, we had topped out, I looked ahead for </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Buachaille Etive Mòr</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, it’s iconic shape was lost in the dark, but I could see the tiny lights in the distance of the Kingshouse Hotel. “Yes! We are heading down to Glencoe!” I shouted. Finally, we could see where we were aiming, it’s a rough bouldery descent so gently does it. I didn’t have to message ahead, my phone pinged and in our group chat, “I can see torches!” Ally’s soup would be ready and waiting for him when we arrived and he was stopping for a well deserved 20 minute sleep. </span></div><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I was relieved and pleased when John and Helen offered to help us after they knew of Pauline’s illness, both very experienced ultra runners joining us at Tyndrum with the luxury of proper night’s sleep for the first night so it made sense for John to escort Ally over the Devil’s Staircase in the wee hours, he also brought out a hip-flask at the cairn for a wee celebration at the top.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(A wee disclaimer here, this story is my recollection of events, the first duty of a support runner is to take care of themselves, I’d be no use to Ally if I wasn’t rested between my running shifts so at Glencoe I crashed out in the back of Douglas’s car only to be disturbed when Sue got out at Kinlochleven for her turn to run with Ally, saying “Get your feet up and use the whole back seat to lie down.” So if I’ve made any mistakes you’ll understand why I wasn’t paying too much attention to what was happening all the time) </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Sue had the short straw in support, the climb out of Kinlochleven, it’s steeper and longer than the Devil’s Staircase but doesn’t have a scary name to psych you out, it’s a tough slog even with legs that haven’t already covered 80 hard miles, Sue was staying with Ally along Lairig Mor, through Lundavra and into Fort William.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Friday morning saw Andy and Douglas heading to Morrisons for a full breakfast, Ken and Graham were heading up the single track road to Lundavra, I thought I’d go with them and maybe join Ally and Sue there if he was struggling, I’ll nip to the van for my running bag, “Err, where’s Donna?” I ask. Donna, Pauline and Lewis stayed in Kinlochleven to get the airbeds out and have a decent rest through the night, and weren’t planning to come to Fort William until Ally was due to arrive. Oops, I hadn’t thought ahead when I got into the car at Glencoe but never mind I’ll go along anyway. We arrived at Lundavra just a few minutes before Ally and Sue, it was a new day and a new Ally, he’d been motoring along, I need not have worried! </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aKD1TLgCjFA/YRAGTXckZcI/AAAAAAAAHX4/O1pXkc-x7448RbGwGqGxYEOXwOxdKGYpQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1440/Ally%2BK%2527s%2BLong%2BRun.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="1078" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aKD1TLgCjFA/YRAGTXckZcI/AAAAAAAAHX4/O1pXkc-x7448RbGwGqGxYEOXwOxdKGYpQCLcBGAsYHQ/w300-h400/Ally%2BK%2527s%2BLong%2BRun.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lundavra - photo credit - Ally K's Long Run</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">We headed back to Fort William, Donna arrived and I readied myself for the next section along the canal. I had a porridge pot for breakfast and changed from trail shoes to road shoes since the terrain was going to be easier going underfoot. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">There was quite a welcome for Ally as he arrived at the old traditional finish of the West Highland Way.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj42Jhuzh0QNhl5YDrwweMngeXvvooWot3tmQf-vBPUVNKL5CZt-lssj2zBsjaGp4YGfx6t9yyI6fB8JR2QrYwVt4N4nvarE6FDOHEMmPteGcdCwaEBVFGFR5HVusYjKWUZ5azo_W-pErs/s1411/IMG_7898.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1100" data-original-width="1411" height="311" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj42Jhuzh0QNhl5YDrwweMngeXvvooWot3tmQf-vBPUVNKL5CZt-lssj2zBsjaGp4YGfx6t9yyI6fB8JR2QrYwVt4N4nvarE6FDOHEMmPteGcdCwaEBVFGFR5HVusYjKWUZ5azo_W-pErs/w400-h311/IMG_7898.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguQWdyVfAQUsNWYoE1hi_URrgqGHdcVsOdYXn2nZY-P2aPnCCShxqsSu_O0GNLfoA6Zoz57PPUNER2kn_gRV1eV2GSA61Frhfo7_4dKj6JIjXFHZ1R8pfBXLAAorGeqpBdN4lCSGCdvJU/s2048/IMG_7914.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1300" data-original-width="2048" height="254" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguQWdyVfAQUsNWYoE1hi_URrgqGHdcVsOdYXn2nZY-P2aPnCCShxqsSu_O0GNLfoA6Zoz57PPUNER2kn_gRV1eV2GSA61Frhfo7_4dKj6JIjXFHZ1R8pfBXLAAorGeqpBdN4lCSGCdvJU/w400-h254/IMG_7914.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Part one of his challenge completed, he had another 20 minute sleep, Graham worked on his legs, Donna updated Ally with messages of support, one, a wee video from friends “Glad you’re not dead!” He had some soup and freshened up, before setting off on part two, the Great Glen Way. The Caledonian Canal stretches on, as much as it’s awfy bonnie, it’s long and flat with nothing technical to take your mind off how you’re feeling, after the high of finishing the West Highland Way, I wasn’t surprised Ally had another wee low, he apologised for not being good company, typical Ally, thinking of others first, I didn’t doubt he’d pick up again, no point fighting the dip, we just eased along, he now had over one hundred miles in his legs, but I did have a distraction technique up my sleeve, I brought my camera out, told him to run... and to smile while he’s at it! </span><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jfIeTDuCeyg/YRAIUmkuUaI/AAAAAAAAHYQ/45Su9sF8qvwS3GMPwDAukzb363_UGEgJQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2226/IMG_6631.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1703" data-original-width="2226" height="306" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jfIeTDuCeyg/YRAIUmkuUaI/AAAAAAAAHYQ/45Su9sF8qvwS3GMPwDAukzb363_UGEgJQCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h306/IMG_6631.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pWpCT9F2s3g/YRAIlGTbEsI/AAAAAAAAHYY/p6uVOElOK3Ycxd_hXNmgHY3sqAiZQCf4gCLcBGAsYHQ/s2060/IMG_6660.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1591" data-original-width="2060" height="309" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pWpCT9F2s3g/YRAIlGTbEsI/AAAAAAAAHYY/p6uVOElOK3Ycxd_hXNmgHY3sqAiZQCf4gCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h309/IMG_6660.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">At Gairlochy his smile broadened, Ryan, who's supported Ally during his past two challenges was waiting with Shaun to wish him well. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-d6-htqPkV4A/YRATnd9h45I/AAAAAAAAHao/LmYbUnyk2-0KswNgjuPdtl6oeHY3RO4bgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1530/Ally%2BK%2527s%2BLong%2BRun.jpg2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1530" data-original-width="1299" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-d6-htqPkV4A/YRATnd9h45I/AAAAAAAAHao/LmYbUnyk2-0KswNgjuPdtl6oeHY3RO4bgCLcBGAsYHQ/w340-h400/Ally%2BK%2527s%2BLong%2BRun.jpg2.jpg" width="340" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo credit - Ally K's Long Run</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Andy was taking over here and at Laggan Locks Helen joined them, time to double up support again as Ally would be heading into his third night on the move. The rest of us went onto Aberchalder, the sky was quite dull and it didn’t take long for the gloaming to turn to darkness, </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vBpykB5cP18/YRAKJiK7-8I/AAAAAAAAHYg/giDAMDRdON0WE2hLC73h8IXKrF2gGnKswCLcBGAsYHQ/s1378/IMG_7919.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1107" data-original-width="1378" height="321" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vBpykB5cP18/YRAKJiK7-8I/AAAAAAAAHYg/giDAMDRdON0WE2hLC73h8IXKrF2gGnKswCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h321/IMG_7919.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-g25bRiLirXk/YRAKc3ydP-I/AAAAAAAAHYo/rF_83ttsrM4aPtugPPJ0vQV21xMZxl2IACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_7921.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1439" data-original-width="2048" height="281" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-g25bRiLirXk/YRAKc3ydP-I/AAAAAAAAHYo/rF_83ttsrM4aPtugPPJ0vQV21xMZxl2IACLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h281/IMG_7921.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cnTkXw9Nm1A/YRAKwaFqQNI/AAAAAAAAHYw/WYlM6MBFrtsxqsqEKmfF7_rKkU2NVm8uQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_7926.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1265" data-original-width="2048" height="248" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cnTkXw9Nm1A/YRAKwaFqQNI/AAAAAAAAHYw/WYlM6MBFrtsxqsqEKmfF7_rKkU2NVm8uQCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h248/IMG_7926.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ken walked out to meet them, there was no hanging around when he arrived, just a quick coffee and a roll and John set off with Ally for his second night shift also Ally’s pal, Innis joined here to see him into Fort Augustus. </span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Sue and I were going from Fort Augustus, but there was no rush when he arrived, Ally was having his third and final 20 minute sleep, Graham worked on his legs and he had more soup. We left around 1.30am, 50 hours and around 130 miles done, again we eased into the pace, walking it out and running a few short shuffles to wake up the legs, we were now on the road heading up towards the Loch Ness Marathon route, if you have ever been on one of the buses that’s laboured up the monster of a hill out of Fort Augustus to the start of the Marathon and was anxious that it wasn’t going to make it up, we strided up that hill at a fair lick! Although Ally was tired, he was strong and heading towards his final marathon. At the top the mist had descended and soon turned into cold rain, the van’s headlights couldn’t penetrate it, my shadow standing in front of me reflected off the murk. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UqocF2PIIQg/YRALYc29dTI/AAAAAAAAHY4/lCoxIjApv1Ag87bjal7kmgSFArx7tHf_ACLcBGAsYHQ/s2108/IMG_6681.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1555" data-original-width="2108" height="295" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UqocF2PIIQg/YRALYc29dTI/AAAAAAAAHY4/lCoxIjApv1Ag87bjal7kmgSFArx7tHf_ACLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h295/IMG_6681.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Sue and I kept ourselves awake and cheery playing word games like we did when we were wee on long car journeys. One of them, we worked our way through the alphabet naming songs with a place in the lyrics or title, Is this the way to Amarillo, was the first one, we sang a few too, Ally didn’t join in much, he often had his earphones in, our singing wasn’t that bad! Well, mine was but Sue can hold a tune! There were a lot of big frogs on the road, we were accused of booting them into the verge, but we were just gently nudging them off the road with a shoe, not wanting them to be flattened by the van behind us. On the road there was an opportunity for support to swap every five miles or so but both Sue and I agreed that since we were already outside and wet we might as well keep going for a bit longer. Donna and Pauline were preparing a couple of cups of hot chocolate for us, I waited at the van to pick them up, Ally and Sue kept moving, when they were ready Pauline suggested I jump in the van to catch them up, I was pretty cold so I declined the offer and would put in a wee effort getting back to them to warm me up. Since running Fastest Known Times has been the lock-down fashion for runners, I’m claiming an FKT for 400 metres on the Loch Ness Marathon route in the dark, piddling rain carrying two cups of hot chocolate without spilling them! Ally was very quiet, but as long as we could hear his poles tip-tapping on the road behind us we knew he was doing fine, with his focus on the few steps ahead and hauling it in. </span><p></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We pulled into Foyers around 6.00am, now daylight on the fourth day, the rain was starting to ease slightly, Ally wanted Pauline to come with him and she did, managing around three miles together, a cherished moment for them both, </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GPSRxxjN28U/YRAMPBwvtMI/AAAAAAAAHZA/XNauNgdtcs88COBpBjK9YTo9ooEQ7o-rQCLcBGAsYHQ/s896/Ally%2BK%2527s%2BLong%2BRun.jpg%2B3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="896" data-original-width="880" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GPSRxxjN28U/YRAMPBwvtMI/AAAAAAAAHZA/XNauNgdtcs88COBpBjK9YTo9ooEQ7o-rQCLcBGAsYHQ/w393-h400/Ally%2BK%2527s%2BLong%2BRun.jpg%2B3.jpg" width="393" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo credit - Ally K's Long Run</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Helen and John took a turn each and a posse of pals were forming to escort Ally into Inverness. After changing into dry clothes I jumped into the front of the van with Donna, now sitting warm and cosy, my head was doing the noddy dog thing, I didn’t fight it but it felt rude to sleep while Donna was working hard leading the way, flashing lights on the van, warning oncoming traffic of our presence on the road and alerting </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;">the rest of the team with walkie talkies of their </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">their approach. The stress was building with more traffic on the road. We had come all this way without incident and the team vehicles were doing a great job of keeping the runners safe, protecting them front and back with warning lights and carrying caution runner signs. </span></p></span><span><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We had a final stop in the car park at the end of Dores, I rejoined and was staying with Ally and the posse into Inverness, Douglas gave us a safety talk and insisted that if there was pavement we were to use it. Graham gave Ally’s legs a last going over ready for the final ten miles, </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PmGlpOe3Qy4/YRAMk2sUutI/AAAAAAAAHZI/47sVqq4cFbUqpr607ejtlwPWwNXZh8cCACLcBGAsYHQ/s2054/IMG_6692.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1546" data-original-width="2054" height="301" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PmGlpOe3Qy4/YRAMk2sUutI/AAAAAAAAHZI/47sVqq4cFbUqpr607ejtlwPWwNXZh8cCACLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h301/IMG_6692.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">we soon got into a good routine, I’d pick a spot where to run and Ally would pick where to walk, staying in control of effort, I went into Mummy Goose mode, keeping an eye on my gaggle, ushering them over the road when moving onto the pavement and back between the team vehicles when it ran out. </span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kgh7Bj-dhlE/YRAM-oou6dI/AAAAAAAAHZQ/gdsNHOVqUS8_lK9mMkOhUZPJ6t7tclaaACLcBGAsYHQ/s1494/IMG_6738.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1245" data-original-width="1494" height="334" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kgh7Bj-dhlE/YRAM-oou6dI/AAAAAAAAHZQ/gdsNHOVqUS8_lK9mMkOhUZPJ6t7tclaaACLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h334/IMG_6738.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iFaSk1YhE5c/YRANG7Yz-7I/AAAAAAAAHZU/NbUed2Tz9mMnS_UUMOX-nIRMKJo76c6kACLcBGAsYHQ/s1639/IMG_6752.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1180" data-original-width="1639" height="288" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iFaSk1YhE5c/YRANG7Yz-7I/AAAAAAAAHZU/NbUed2Tz9mMnS_UUMOX-nIRMKJo76c6kACLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h288/IMG_6752.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">We were making good progress and moving well, at a good, strong pace. Side by side Ally and I looked at each other, no words were needed, we have done it! Our emotion rose, I managed to keep it from leaking out my eyes but Ally used the front of his t-shirt. </span><p></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Robin had driven up from Perth and just planned to run a little bit with Ally, after a short distance he said “Ally, I’m holding you back, I’ll let you go on and I’ll see you at the end.” Ally was insistent “No, you’ve come all this way for me, we’ll go at your pace! </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TIe60CyjqNQ/YRANnWrntFI/AAAAAAAAHZg/JYFizGVHK6E2F2aPbL2kPfJAN1B0MLgLQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1674/IMG_6791.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1249" data-original-width="1674" height="299" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TIe60CyjqNQ/YRANnWrntFI/AAAAAAAAHZg/JYFizGVHK6E2F2aPbL2kPfJAN1B0MLgLQCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h299/IMG_6791.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">This time my emotion did reach my eyes, and why we love him and support him so much, over 62 hours on his feet and he was happy to prolong his finish for Robin to be able to keep him company all the way into Inverness.</span><p></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The support posse went over the foot-bridge near the Highland Hospice to join everyone waiting to cheer Ally in, while Ally continued along and round the road bridge of the Marathon route to finish with a strong sprint, Saltire soaring to a fantastic reception, and into the finish banner held by Eilidh and Lewis. A mayhem of bubbly and hugs before an interview for BBC Alba. I’m not sure many could remain standing after such an arduous achievement, never mind speak coherently enough to be on the telly! </span></p><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XxpGFhzHqAg/YRAOBYY8FdI/AAAAAAAAHZo/uLiuZkQudJMBoQ7bPH2cEP-OqsLNTG6OgCLcBGAsYHQ/s958/IMG_6870.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="785" data-original-width="958" height="328" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XxpGFhzHqAg/YRAOBYY8FdI/AAAAAAAAHZo/uLiuZkQudJMBoQ7bPH2cEP-OqsLNTG6OgCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h328/IMG_6870.JPG" width="400" /></a></div></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-isA97a6mMLA/YRAOLpbZmsI/AAAAAAAAHZs/GkbKcHLZ2CUIJCoHB-MbYDi6ctE30n6_gCLcBGAsYHQ/s904/IMG_6877.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="659" data-original-width="904" height="291" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-isA97a6mMLA/YRAOLpbZmsI/AAAAAAAAHZs/GkbKcHLZ2CUIJCoHB-MbYDi6ctE30n6_gCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h291/IMG_6877.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FwuJZfdHQ4I/YRAOW10T7ZI/AAAAAAAAHZ0/l1g987vl-Tgb7AQCL0XsrkBwxsAjtSx1gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1013/IMG_6878.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="754" data-original-width="1013" height="297" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FwuJZfdHQ4I/YRAOW10T7ZI/AAAAAAAAHZ0/l1g987vl-Tgb7AQCL0XsrkBwxsAjtSx1gCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h297/IMG_6878.JPG" width="400" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HOvYSktfZBs/YRAOjr4SvFI/AAAAAAAAHZ4/OA6-kqfr38wmsqrGoFoIKy-ou9cGGz6oACLcBGAsYHQ/s2312/IMG_6882.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1754" data-original-width="2312" height="304" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HOvYSktfZBs/YRAOjr4SvFI/AAAAAAAAHZ4/OA6-kqfr38wmsqrGoFoIKy-ou9cGGz6oACLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h304/IMG_6882.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FIgyuGFZA6c/YRAPH9nHVCI/AAAAAAAAHaM/bGe06yYosy0i4VXDK9jxZt9l6YSbZzltQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2592/IMG_6889.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1944" data-original-width="2592" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FIgyuGFZA6c/YRAPH9nHVCI/AAAAAAAAHaM/bGe06yYosy0i4VXDK9jxZt9l6YSbZzltQCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h300/IMG_6889.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-41aVBsQE61A/YRAPfyzpQtI/AAAAAAAAHaY/SoZuvVJN1tgjatoj0q287EvRqcE5zYUIgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2418/IMG_6897.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1820" data-original-width="2418" height="301" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-41aVBsQE61A/YRAPfyzpQtI/AAAAAAAAHaY/SoZuvVJN1tgjatoj0q287EvRqcE5zYUIgCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h301/IMG_6897.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UYRF00QRJnU/YRAPqOZ5PrI/AAAAAAAAHac/opjH-ibz9K4Tl-9892rUsuPsJZ_vSgWzQCLcBGAsYHQ/s881/IMG_6913.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="659" data-original-width="881" height="299" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UYRF00QRJnU/YRAPqOZ5PrI/AAAAAAAAHac/opjH-ibz9K4Tl-9892rUsuPsJZ_vSgWzQCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h299/IMG_6913.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’m glad I was able to play a small part in Ally’s Challenge, an astounding effort raising funds for a charity close to his heart, and what a heart he has, I don’t think he’ll mind me saying that he’s no natural athlete, just a very determined person dedicated to do his best for others. As I write his Just Giving page is sitting just short of £21,000 + Gift Aid, a phenomenal amount especially in these times. </span><p></p><div><span><a href="https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/allykslongrun?utm_id=124&fbclid=IwAR2RrXtiB6KRoDj1NSHRwoKIBtPauYwp4X18RULmqAanrTJ8cjr7_00Uwpk" target="_blank">Ally K's Long Run Just Giving page</a><br /></span></div><div><span><br /></span></div><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This was his fourth and final epic challenge, his first one was Ally K Runs Skye for Cancer Research Uk in 2014, followed by Ally K Runs Skye to Maggie’s in 2016 for Maggie’s, then Ally K’s 10 Island Challenge for MacmIllan in 2018. He dared to dream of raising £100,000 for charities that mean so much to him, and against the odds he has succeeded. Ally has said it wasn’t just him, he didn’t do it alone, he’s had a good team behind him, and if over any of his challenges you have donated a pound or two, you too are part of the team that has inspired him to give his all. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We might have different parents but I am as extremely proud of him as if he really was my wee brother, Ally, you inspire me to be the best person I can. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ally has now officially hung up his running shoes for huge, epic fundraising events. I have two words to say on the matter. Aye, right! </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></p><div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div></span><br /></div>Fiona Renniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18268067089290474811noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475346168209566942.post-22944848436223612202020-02-21T16:41:00.000+00:002020-02-21T17:22:33.487+00:00Just a training run!<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">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! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">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! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">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!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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!” </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We protested saying “Oh no, we’re wet and muddy!” </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Looking back over my 34 years of running I can safely say this is one of the most </span><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;">challenging training runs I've ever had! </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">If you want to follow his progress during the challenge Ally will have a tracker, the link will be available from the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/allykslongrun/">event facebook page </a> and if you'd like to support the charity here’s his <a href="https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/allykslongrun?fbclid=IwAR0T8Rjmagto3kehstxEUmrjof_E8NPrBqhFekKzy9YHT6GIhgzq2AXt7d8">Just Giving link</a>. </span></div>
<br />Fiona Renniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18268067089290474811noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475346168209566942.post-43575663282531775172020-02-07T18:04:00.000+00:002020-02-07T18:26:57.240+00:00Falkirk 8 hour Trail Race<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">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). </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">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. </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgicnBDjVDYxAYXIn8VeKTuHkxyK0mFcojNT4aa9smhN_82Z1iBQVvTz-kgoluikeaOcX76Vfs8HbJetUTsPk3i34guPdSdWlrZJOsO7LOhYpOt-ZCJ7QuoGYoFJSxU_gfFidfU8OYl1tM/s1600/Falkirk+8HR+Ultra+Trail+Race.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" data-original-height="443" data-original-width="960" height="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgicnBDjVDYxAYXIn8VeKTuHkxyK0mFcojNT4aa9smhN_82Z1iBQVvTz-kgoluikeaOcX76Vfs8HbJetUTsPk3i34guPdSdWlrZJOsO7LOhYpOt-ZCJ7QuoGYoFJSxU_gfFidfU8OYl1tM/s400/Falkirk+8HR+Ultra+Trail+Race.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444;">photo from Falkirk 8 hour Trail Race</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">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. </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">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. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">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) </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vnjI2qxHr-Y/Xj2di4mjHAI/AAAAAAAAFaQ/8-TWo26vejslivmLSX5Rjr4WdlJoxPYlwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_9910.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1346" data-original-width="1600" height="269" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vnjI2qxHr-Y/Xj2di4mjHAI/AAAAAAAAFaQ/8-TWo26vejslivmLSX5Rjr4WdlJoxPYlwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMG_9910.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">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! </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">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. </span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo from Sandra Hunter </td></tr>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">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! </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">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! </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-L90-DDnS_GQ/Xj2gVjIF5zI/AAAAAAAAFac/u-cnBaB_lh00ry9fV6uEyDb6Eas_ERAtACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/James%2BDay%2B%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" data-original-height="459" data-original-width="599" height="306" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-L90-DDnS_GQ/Xj2gVjIF5zI/AAAAAAAAFac/u-cnBaB_lh00ry9fV6uEyDb6Eas_ERAtACLcBGAsYHQ/s400/James%2BDay%2B%25282%2529.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">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.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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! <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DsTaGETd1GY/Xj2g1k6EfaI/AAAAAAAAFak/8V_C1y46ccwROAAhKI1935wbQyA8Tk46QCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Barry%2BDavie%2B%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="572" data-original-width="817" height="280" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DsTaGETd1GY/Xj2g1k6EfaI/AAAAAAAAFak/8V_C1y46ccwROAAhKI1935wbQyA8Tk46QCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/Barry%2BDavie%2B%25282%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo from Barry Davie</td></tr>
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</span></span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">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! </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">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.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">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) </span></span></div>
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Fiona Renniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18268067089290474811noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475346168209566942.post-39284003587491173332020-01-28T10:36:00.000+00:002020-01-28T10:36:43.500+00:00Tyndrum 12<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">When I first heard there was going to be a 24 hour race in January in Tyndrum my interest was piqued, then a quick Google of darkness hours for that location and time of year (not far off 17 hours!) made me realise that the novelty of running with a head torch wore off ages ago… hmmm... there was also a 6 hour and a 12 hour race to choose from. During Glenmore 24 at midnight, I jokingly shout at anyone finishing the 12 hour “Bastard!” and I mutter it again as I go through the night seeing them all cosy, snug as a bug, dozing away wrapped up in blankets and sleeping bags so I thought that it would be lovely to stop at midnight for a change; I’ve never done a 12 hour race before so that was my choice. I asked Pauline if she fancied it too, her reply was a very decisive “No!” She claims to be a fair weather runner these days and it even took a fair bit of persuasion for her to agree to do my support! </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">So Saturday morning saw us trundling from race parking up at the back of the Green Welly with a ton of gear, luckily Pauline had pimped a Granny trolley with Saltires and Rampant Lions for lugging stuff to 24 hour races from her days as an International athlete. After registering we asked Stacey (race director) where we could set up and right beside the timing tent was fine, it didn’t take long to put up our wee shelter and it’s paraphernalia, just the job for one runner and one supporter.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cDjPwYp_7kw/XjAEWShCPvI/AAAAAAAAFYA/cp8bvf9wh4Iis_ghAiAECVPfjOm5epn0QCEwYBhgL/s1600/Karen%2BMcIndewar%2B%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="866" data-original-width="707" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cDjPwYp_7kw/XjAEWShCPvI/AAAAAAAAFYA/cp8bvf9wh4Iis_ghAiAECVPfjOm5epn0QCEwYBhgL/s400/Karen%2BMcIndewar%2B%25282%2529.jpg" width="326" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo from Karen McIndewar <br />Pauline, wearing thermal top, hoodie, one down jacket, one down coat, one wax coat (three hoods, one hat) silk/wool long johns, fleece lined trousers, two pairs of gloves, two pairs of socks (merino and fleece), wellies (nothing else would fit!)</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">Everything I do between January and June is West Highland Way Race training and I don’t race as such, but sticking a number on does make me work a bit harder, giving me a good quality day out with pals but keeping in mind what’s to come. All roads lead to Milngavie. What was to make this event more exciting was that only full laps counted, there would be no wee laps to move onto in the last hour to keep running to the final moment so pacing was paramount, I wanted to keep a fine strong consistent effort throughout, I didn’t want to ease off near the end because I’d have loads of time left nor did I want to run like my arse was on fire to squeeze in a last lap! A group of us recced the loop in August it took us around one hour fifteen minutes, so I thought nine laps would be a good target averaging one hour twenty minutes a lap over the twelve hours, knowing it would be a wee bit quicker to start with having fresh legs and daylight but with around eight hours of darkness I would slow and hopefully have a wee cushion to play with. This was all weather dependant and if it was pretty grim at least six laps would give me an ultra and I’d be chuffed to get eight laps. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">The weather was promising to be pretty good for the time of year, dry, bright but chilly. I don’t do cold so was cosied up with two pairs of full length tights, a compression pair with thick winter ones over the top, two long sleeved tops under my club vest, a light-weight thermal and a heavier one, two hats, a peaked Buff topped with a wooly beanie I’d knitted in club colours and lined with fleece especially for T24, my tootsies were kept toasty, again with two layers, a thin pair of socks and knee-length waterproof ones. During our August recce the water crossing was quite high, fast flowing and reaching just below my knees, so I wanted to be well prepared if it was the same, I was pleased that the water was fairly low but wearing the waterproof socks meant I didn’t have to pussyfoot the boulders too much, and to be on the safe side as well as mandatory kit I also carried my big rain-jacket throughout.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">After Stacey gave the briefing the 24 hour race set off at 11.45am and the part-timers at 12.00noon to prevent a bottleneck since the first mile is narrow, technical with water crossings,</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dLpfxVwI-_U/XjAGj3_EB_I/AAAAAAAAFYM/xO1sBn94kGs2gUz0EQ5qOq_VvLxYBCB-ACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_9216%2B%25283%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1098" data-original-width="1452" height="301" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dLpfxVwI-_U/XjAGj3_EB_I/AAAAAAAAFYM/xO1sBn94kGs2gUz0EQ5qOq_VvLxYBCB-ACLcBGAsYHQ/s400/IMG_9216%2B%25283%2529.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">narrow paths, muddy bits and loose stones, after looping round to the railway crossing there was a steep long haul up through a forest path then gently dropping down, through a gate onto a wide open track with cracking views, a few long gradual upward undulations,which was followed by a fairly steep descent, under the railway, up a wee climb and past the best upholstered checkpoint I’ve ever seen, </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh9Wh-nWwJ5ngEQ125v3HPpOXRwjnxfc-KZKE7v8iv-33dXV0R1S3ccsae-rZnokTC1f4TTGApiqUjmW0zDXfIo9cSevWKWRGNK2PRwkEq5rURsOcYnFUGIucjx60LpyVff_HPkCvv_Jg/s1600/IMG_9527.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1142" data-original-width="1600" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh9Wh-nWwJ5ngEQ125v3HPpOXRwjnxfc-KZKE7v8iv-33dXV0R1S3ccsae-rZnokTC1f4TTGApiqUjmW0zDXfIo9cSevWKWRGNK2PRwkEq5rURsOcYnFUGIucjx60LpyVff_HPkCvv_Jg/s400/IMG_9527.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">aka the party tent with a homely fire burning, comfy seats, and the smell of burgers and sausages cooking! The guys were fantastic and shouted support every lap but I was not tempted in, I thought Hansel and Gretel got themselves into a bit of a pickle stopping at something similar! </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">Shortly after the enticing camp there was a left turn onto the West Highland Way past the Loch of the Lost Sword, narrow and lumpy until the big gate and back to the By the Way with a wee out and back around a flag, and that’s the five mile loop to be repeated as often as possible in the time allowed. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">Pauline took my camera to the water crossing for the start and I picked it up later, the photos I took don’t do justice to the stunningly beautiful route but I tried to capture a hint of it, the sun on the snow capped hills, the light changing every lap and shadows growing. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">As predicted, I scampered round the first three laps in under 1hr 5mins each, I then picked up two head torches, freezing temperatures can do funny things to batteries so I wasn’t taking any chances, I faffed briefly taking off my Carnegie vest and putting a fleecy top underneath, keeping the bright colours on top would make it easier for Pauline to see me coming every lap. Although there were hot drinks and soup available inside for runners I wasn’t deviating from the route to get it, support were not encouraged to go inside but we’d brought a stove so Pauline was totally self sufficient and did a grand job of looking after me. I kept it fairly simple, each lap picking up either a squeezy pouch of custard or a milkshake and swapping my water bottle when necessary and occasionally shovel in a couple of spoonfuls of rice pudding but I do have some Diva tendencies, I’d brought a wide necked thermos flask which Pauline filled with boiling water and placed either my custard or milkshake in it to take the chill off as the temperature dropped. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">welcoming the dark and the stars. The stars! Wow! I had to pause on the wide track, look up, turn right round to take in every twinkle, a moment to cherish. My first time round the loop after it was dark felt quite different, I had to double check I was on the right path on the stony bit after the water crossing under the railway, I changed tactics a bit, I would walk more of the lumpy bumpy stuff even though it wasn’t uphill, so on the smoother wide track I would run more of the inclines trying to equal out the effort over the whole loop. My fifth lap was a bit slower, Pauline made me a MugShot macaroni cheese in a thermal mug and I walked round the first mile with it, Pauline met me at the railway crossing to take the mug back, I would’ve happily stuck the mug in a pocket but it was good to hand it over when I was finished and it gave Pauline a reason to walk about, she did a fair bit of moving around, going from the gate just before entering the By the Way and the railway crossing to stand and cheer on everyone with a few cheery tunes playing from a wee speaker. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">Around my seventh lap I was now thinking as long as I stayed consistent I might manage ten laps, that’s five miles more than my original plan! Ok, let’s just keep steady and keep going and see what happens, on my eighth lap I took a thermal mug round the first mile, this time it was charged with two sachets of hot chocolate and a spoonful of coffee, that’ll keep me alert and spritely. Yikes! I nearly lost it at the water crossing, it was icy and I had a wee slide, not enough to make me fall but enough to wave my arms about! Easy does it round the open sections, in the trees, it was fine, but I should’ve realised it might be a wee bit dodgy underfoot, there was ice sparkling on our wee shelter, Pauline must’ve been well insulated too, there was ice forming on her hood! </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">I was trying to read the time on my watch, my old eyeballs need their reading glasses but I could just about make out the time, was that 2 hours 40 minutes to go? I shouted at Pauline to confirm the time. Forty miles done, can I do another ten? It’s icy, lumpy and dark! Two more laps, keep it steady, keep it strong, don’t let the effort go and don’t do anything stupid! Ninth lap done with no drama, a big spoonful of rice pudding and swap my water bottle and go. Last lap, push it a smidge but no heroics. I go to drink some water, I can’t get any, I unscrew the lid and sip straight from the bottle, aw...it’s full of ice! Well, that’ll be that then, I’m sure I’ll make it round on what I’ve had already, I hate freezing drinks! I want to check my watch but I want to keep my eyes on path in the torchlight, the time will be what it will be, I should be fine as long as I don’t fall and smash my face in and that won’t happen as long as I watch where I’m going. My last time past the guys at the party tent, I thank them for their support, careful along the narrow lumpy West Highland Way path, along the river, up toward the By the Way, last time round the flag, push it to the timing tent and dib in for the last time! Yay, fifty miles done with seventeen minutes to spare! I catch my breath and Stacey tells me I’m second lady. “Really! Wow, what a bonus!” </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">Pauline nipped back to the car for my after bag while I sat in our shelter having another Mugshot then I went for a shower. The hardest thing I tried to do all day was to take two pairs of tights with tight waterproof socks over the top off in a oner! That was a losing battle and a faff, luckily I didn’t fall over in the process! Eventually I was showered and in clean cosy clothes and made it over to the prize-giving at 1.00am in time. It was lovely to be warm, inside on a comfy sofa sipping a cup of tea, as well as picking up my prize. </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_GDzCE5U9zw/XjAJHvzES1I/AAAAAAAAFZQ/CUoiCpPbTwwbbcJAAlHOgvfgaO1MB7jHgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_8278.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1474" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_GDzCE5U9zw/XjAJHvzES1I/AAAAAAAAFZQ/CUoiCpPbTwwbbcJAAlHOgvfgaO1MB7jHgCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/IMG_8278.JPG" width="367" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">Afterwards Pauline and I went back to the car at around 2.00am for a bit of car camping, we had plenty of cosy blankets but a couple of times Pauline switched the engine on to get some heat going, after a bit of dozing, dawn arrived, there was a wintery shower, my thoughts were for those still running, I was glad I was finished. We headed into the Green Welly for Daddy Bear portions of porridge and a big mug of tea, my treat, it was the least I could do for Pauline after her brilliant support - I would not have got that extra lap without her. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">We went back down to watch the end of the 24 hour race. Fantastic efforts from everyone finishing, especially those taking on their first 24 hour race, be proud of what you have achieved, that was a tough gig! Well done! </span></span></div>
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Fiona Renniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18268067089290474811noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475346168209566942.post-55232722574090090082019-09-16T11:09:00.002+00:002021-09-19T08:04:15.869+00:00Glenmore 24 2019 <div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">After a good West Highland Way Race I just had a nice easy tick over, no races, no big miles just rest and recovery so I was raring to go for Glenmore. These days I set no goals for my races other than to have fun, PB’s are so last decade and as long as I can remain upright, outside and moving forward, that’s all I want from a race… except Glenmore! 100 miles is a big goal and I was aiming for 25 laps. Nothing is guaranteed but with previous experience I’ve learnt what works for me and how to nip things in the bud if problems arise so I was hoping. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This year Pauline and I had Ken and Gillian for support and around a week before the race we had a wee race planning run and were discussing race logistics and the theme for the fancy dress, with it being Scotland, I had decided on a pair of black dungarees, a metal bucket and some wax in my hair, Oor Wullie wouldn’t be too hard to do, it was suggested that Pauline and I should be Fran and Anna but I’d ordered the dungarees by then, the idea wasn’t lost, Ken was up for borrowing my wee kilt, and with a little supervision of putting on his lipstick and fishnets Fran and Anna looked wonderful (I think Pauline was a bit put out that Ken’s legs in fishnets got more compliments that hers!) Gillian was happy to stuff a cushion up her jumper and with shorts and cap she was Wullie’s best pal Fat Boab.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I left the party around 11.00pm, I was happy lying all cosy, tucked up in my sleeping bag and blankets listening to Fat Boab, Fran and Anna with a few others party on for a while longer, smiling at the sing-a-long to some of Scotland’s finest tunes! I slept ok for the night before a big race, not as deep as usual but that’s normal. I was a tad intolerant on hearing folk chatting loudly at the back of 7.00am, didn’t they realise tents aren’t soundproof! </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I don’t think I’m a morning person, so much for a lie-in! Never mind, it was a nice gentle morning anyway, with plenty of time before the 12 noon start to have two breakfasts and go over my race plan with Ken and Gillian, lay out all my food and clothes for them, so it was easy to lay a hand to when I shouted for whatever I wanted. I also promised not to be too much of a diva and laughingly said “Please, please, please, please!” loads since I won’t be wasting time with niceties during the race. Ok, maybe a wee bit of a diva! </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Bill did the briefing at 11.30am, then time for a team photo and we were ready to go. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">12 noon we were off. Wow! How many runners are there this year? I hope everyone comes to love this race as much as I do, it has certainly grown from the 27 of us on the start line of the first year in 2011.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pauline and I ran together as per usual for the first lap, it felt fast but that’s usual too. On the second lap she said that she had expected me to scamper off by now, I replied that I kinda felt that she was pulling me along! She was a bit surprised as she has only had two 15 mile runs since May after being injured and missing the races she’d planned, her Glenmore race plan was just to stay on her feet for the full 12 hours, I was really pleased that she went on to finish with 57.33 miles. Pauline was happy with her result too, hopefully her injuries are behind her now. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Each of the four miles on the loop is different, in 2011, I named them, the lumpy bumpy mile, the long run, (a wide track that I made a point of running every step) the up-hill and the down-hill. It always takes a few laps to settle down, this year was no different, I had to adjust my number belt, at first it was loose and burling round then too tight and on the 6th lap (24 miles) I had to loosen one of my shoe-laces but after that I was in my groove, comfortable and cruising, revelling in my surroundings, having a wee blether when side by side another runner. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The weather was perfect, sunny but not too hot, as the day progressed I watched the sun move across the sky and start to dip, there was a wee coolness in the air, it was going to be a clear night, remembering how stunning the night was in 2011 I knew the stars would be magnificent. I didn’t take my camera round for a lap this year but Gillian did, running the route in reverse taking a few photos, </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">and Mairi captured the setting sun reflected on Loch Morlich perfectly, always a special Glenmore moment for me, one that makes my heart soar, singing the lyrics of Runrigs Hearts of Olden Glory in my head I am thankful for my good fortune of being alive, healthy and being able to do what I’m doing.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">There must be a place under the sun where hearts of olden glory grow young</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ken and Gillian were doing a brilliant job, every lap I ate a little something, choosing from milkshakes, custard, rice pudding, soup, pasta, and when I wasn’t sure of what I wanted next time they have done my support in big races often enough to know what I needed whether I did or not. The support around race HQ was fantastic, the boys on the wee kick of a hill just before entering the Hayfield, I could hear them shouting “Well done!” every lap and waved back when I eventually spotted them playing in the bushes, or high up a tree and everyone I went by offered encouragement, I felt a bit guilty not being able to say thank you as I made my way round the field with a mouthful of grub, I hoped a wave of my spoon would do. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">As the evening wore on I pulled on my arm-warmers, peaked Buff and gloves, next lap my head torch, when it was dark, I picked up my iPod, it just goes in one ear so I’m not anti-social, each lap seemed to get colder and I’d add another top, it eventually it took six layers and a wooly hat over my peaked Buff, two Buffs round my neck with one pulled up over my face before I felt I was retaining my body heat. I even asked that all my food and drink be warmed, placing my tubs of custard and rice pudding into a pot of boiling water to take the chill off them. The 12 hour race had finished and Pauline took over support for a bit allowing Gillian and Ken to get a bit of a break before she went for a sleep. The stars were stunning, I’d pause briefly to look upward, the frost was also sparkling, that’s a first for Glenmore, it has been bitterly cold in the past with hailstones and fierce winds but never -5 degrees! No wonder I needed millions of layers and I’m glad my sunglasses are light reactive so I was able to keep them on and protect my face and stop my eyeballs freezing! I was a bit concerned that the batteries in my head-torch, although new, might die in the freezing air, so for peace of mind I carried a spare torch but I’m glad I didn’t need it. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pauline and I have been shouting the lyrics of Runrig’s Clash of the Ash at each other since the 24 hour race round the Inches at Perth in 2008 and at Ally when we’ve supported him in his big charity runs, one lap through the night, I came up behind him as he walked with his drink and shouted “COME ON!” Poor bugger, I gave him the fright of his life, he jumped out of his skin and nearly dropped his bottle but he should know by now the correct response is “ALRIGHT!” and not “Ya wee shite!” </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The earlier hours of the morning are the hardest, your body is at it’s lowest ebb but I had a goal to keep my chin up, at the back of 3.00am I went through my 17th lap which also brought my total of Glenmore laps to 200 since the race started and that made me smile, I was with Jenni for bit, she wasn’t going to stop for a sleep this year so we hugged our congratulations on reaching goals.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My 18th lap was my slowest, I did expect to have a dip after the high of the previous lap, although I still ran every step of “the long run” I was walking more, sipping Horlicks from a thermal mug. I yawned and that, for me, triggers the dry boak, so to keep that at bay I was going to have an easier lap and hoped it would pass. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I was watching the sky for the first signs of dawn, as it lightened, the view of the loch was again fuel for the soul,</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rPvgJF_sAIo/XX9hFlyjgtI/AAAAAAAAFT0/o8t2gmpJLmwpj7bWTviOPziS0HKmphqZQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Vicki%2BClark.jpg2%2B%25282%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="781" data-original-width="711" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rPvgJF_sAIo/XX9hFlyjgtI/AAAAAAAAFT0/o8t2gmpJLmwpj7bWTviOPziS0HKmphqZQCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/Vicki%2BClark.jpg2%2B%25282%2529.jpg" width="363" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo from Vicki Clark </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">the rising sun forgot to bring it’s warmth but my lap times picked up and I was managing to keep my stomach on a fairly even keel. Checking my watch, as long as I just kept moving, staying steady, the 100 miles was on, no heroics needed. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">For the last four hours I couldn’t face any proper food, I had some of Pauline’s ginger beer which burnt the mouth off me but helped my stomach, and flat coke. Eventually I warmed up and peeled off some layers counting down to my final lap. Glad to get it done, but sad that I won’t see the beautiful loop again until next year. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Into Hayfield and dib my dobber for the 25th time! Yay! 100 miles accomplished! </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Now for a sneaky wee bonus goal, can I get further than the last two years? I’d reached 102 miles in 2017 and 2018 can I squeeze in three miles on the wee laps this year? There was about forty minutes left to go so I had to try. There was no way I could run up that wee basturt hill but I could let gravity work it’s magic on the down, I tried to stomp up the hill, shout my number to Matt and Bill then just let my legs go, arms flapping and concentrate on not crashing into anyone taking the down hill a bit easier, hit the bottom, work my elbows and try to maintain momentum until the far end of the wee lap, catch my breath before the start of the hill , stomp up again… after a few laps I asked Bill “How much longer?” I pushed another wee lap, and another, and another, I asked Bill “How much longer?” Time seemed to have slowed down, I’m sure I can push another lap… it must be about time up! </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--l7MFlILNBQ/XX9j-p0QJbI/AAAAAAAAFUI/8VRQ5DaoPJ40XuFTwk7hOKBymhnOIyuTQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Robert%2BHill.jpg1%2B%25283%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="548" data-original-width="778" height="281" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--l7MFlILNBQ/XX9j-p0QJbI/AAAAAAAAFUI/8VRQ5DaoPJ40XuFTwk7hOKBymhnOIyuTQCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/Robert%2BHill.jpg1%2B%25283%2529.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo Robert Hill </td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi93mhmKP4udNEyUYiy2jHLLDw49akclBFYhiJAFbBqOFnZRKTQz-pQcebSHVCwHC0E9qMH_RBLE_inSb3nJpDYIcD_r13U-9o_3h3vgzbFGVGvdaPDguN1SEMZyWNix3XCGp_VBcLyOnU/s1600/IMG_2917.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1122" data-original-width="1518" height="295" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi93mhmKP4udNEyUYiy2jHLLDw49akclBFYhiJAFbBqOFnZRKTQz-pQcebSHVCwHC0E9qMH_RBLE_inSb3nJpDYIcD_r13U-9o_3h3vgzbFGVGvdaPDguN1SEMZyWNix3XCGp_VBcLyOnU/s400/IMG_2917.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pauline shouted at me to stop! I was just past Noanie’s party tent and hadn’t heard the count down or the hooter! Yay! I leaned forward and poke my marker peg into the ground for my final distance to be measured! 103.36 miles, bonus mission accomplished! </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pauline walked me back to our tent, happily I managed to stave off the post race spew and faint. I had my camping mattress laid on the grass and for the first time in 24 hours I could stop moving and lie down! I didn’t move for what felt like ages.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo Donald Macleod</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Eventually I dragged myself up to sit, freshened up with a wet wipe round my face, a clean top on and I was a new woman… slight exaggeration, maybe just managing to function, we took our chairs over for the prize-giving, it was wonderful to see so many tired but content faces. Glenmore 24 is such a special event, we are so lucky to have a fantastic bunch of people give up their time so we can run to our hearts content. Thank you all for making this weekend phenomenal. Magic happens at Glenmore. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">When I add up all my Glenmore races it sounds a bit mad, eight 24 hours races and a very special six hour in 2013, totalling 208 big laps, adding the wee laps I’ve covered 850.64 miles, that means I’ve done 18.64 miles in Benny Hill mode...that really is quite mad! </span><br />
<br />Fiona Renniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18268067089290474811noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475346168209566942.post-43668250846763208752019-07-21T14:47:00.000+00:002019-07-21T15:10:45.484+00:00West Highland Way Race 2019 <span id="docs-internal-guid-4397280a-7fff-8019-fe50-33c88f876473"></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This year my training has ticked over nicely, no illness or injury, just consistently plodding along with a few races for my long runs, a flat tarmac 50km in Perth, a lumpy trail 50km in Kielder and the Fling, (I won’t mention the weather!) Sleep deprivation training in marshal mode at the Skye Trail Ultra (with lots more weather) which was followed by three weeks caffeine free, that signals the countdown is on, it’s tough giving up coffee but I think helps me focus and prepare for the race, a test of my determination and what lengths I’m willing to go to for success, then a week before the race I had a meeting with my crew and we were good to go.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">9.30pm, Friday evening Ken, Sue and Pauline picked me up, I’d dropped off all my gear with Ken on Thursday so there was no faffing loading the car when they arrived. Heading over the Kincardine Bridge the sun was dipping behind the hills, the sky was a clear rosy-gold, the shepherds were delighted, me too, the weather was promising to be good. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">We parked at Tesco, it’s the first time we’ve never got into the station car park, I’m not complaining, it just shows how much the race has grown since I first ran in 2003 when registration was inside the ticket office. I tried to register in the shortest time possible but with loads of hugs and wee catch ups, I knew it would take it longer than planned but I was soon back to the car making last minute decisions on what to carry and what to wear. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">12.30am We are all gathered for the race briefing from Ian, then Sean’s “There will be weather” and medical information and just before the start there were poignant words from Adrain and a moments silence for the family we’ve lost this year, Tony </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Thistlewaite</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> was sorely missed, he should've been standing here, aiming for his sixteenth goblet.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">1.00am WOOOOHOOOO! We are on our way! (I don’t plan to write a then and now report but there may be a few reminiscences) another contrast from my early years. The support along the length of the street this year is fantastic! I had a big daft excited grin on my face when folk shouted my name, managing a few high fives until we turned down towards Mugdock, years ago support crews huddled round the steps just after the tunnel, then it was eerily quiet along the front of the shops occasionally encountering a few bemused locals heading home after a night out. Jennifer and I stayed together for the first few miles, all uneventful until nearing the end of the path of a thousand gates, I managed to catch my toe and down I went, we were in a bit of a bunch and I was relieved that I wasn’t trampled, folk stopped and helped me up, I was fine, just a bit stoory and in need of a wee dust down, I’d adopted the starfish technique for breaking a fall, just a wee dunt evenly spread out between both knees, stomach and the heels of my hands on landing... being caught having a wee lie down was probably more embarrassing! </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My crew were in Drymen, I just picked up some custard and a fresh water bottle and plodded on, I switched my head torch off not long after, the sky was brightening with a few light clouds and the weather was promising to be kind. I may have had a hand in making sure the weather was going to be lovely, on the Tuesday before the race I re-proofed my big, sturdy “see-me-through-a-tsunami/bomb-proof/serious weather” jacket and carried it from start to finish. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I kept the pace fine and steady up Conic taking a few photos, and even steadier on the way down, saving my legs for later, just before the steps I phoned my crew, “Get the kettle on!” The reply, “It already is!”. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Down into Balmaha, and I hauled out the timing chip to dib in, I’m not too keen on these huge flat ones that resemble a coaster, they’re too big for my wrist so I’d clipped it onto my stretchy waistband that held my phone and reading glasses. A hug from Davie and my crew walked me through the checkpoint with a pot of porridge and a mug of tea.</span></div>
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</span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Heading towards Rowardennan, I usually feel like I’ve settled down, and it was no different this year, that’s the first night done, I’ve had my breakfast and relaxed into the adventure, it’s now time to revel in my surroundings and enjoy one of my favourite sections, the ups and downs in the meandering ancient woodland and the morning birdsong. One runner did have his music on loudspeaker, I was surprised at my tolerance of his air pollution, laughed and suggested he should have Jimmy Shand for good cadence, he joked and said he was saving that for later. The sun was breaking through the clouds, the glimpses of the loch through the trees were stunning, when the views opened up the loch was calm and still with the hills and sky reflected in a mirror image. Most of the conversations I had were with first timers, I hoped they will come to love this race as much as I do. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Into Rowardennan, I dibbed my coaster and hugged Gavin, my crew were ready and waiting for me with a chair for my first sock change, I sat down and spooned in a rice pudding while Sue and Pauline wiped down my feet and apply lots of Body Glide, it’s pre-emptive, I have no problems and I'd like to keep it that way. I’d decided the shoes I’m wearing are fine, they have good grip and perfect for the loch side, I wore them for the Fling but looking ahead I feel they are a wee bit firm on my toes and may cause problems later on so I say to Ken, Sue and Pauline that I’ll change my shoes at Auchtertyre. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">So with fresh happy feet I skip off towards the loch side… it was just metaphorical skipping, no real waste of energy just my mental image heading to my next favourite section, I haven’t done the low road since last year’s West Highland Way Race, I love the natural flow of run a bit, walk a bit and ooshah, how steep are those steps bit! Just letting the terrain dictate the pace, I was moving well, chatting when I had company and savouring the beauty of the route when I had it all to myself. Note to self - look where I’m putting my feet! I fell again! I was about a mile away from Inversnaid, and this time the technique I used for breaking my fall was a hundredweight sack o’ tatties and I don’t recommend it much, it hurts, especially down the left side which took the full of wallop of the roaster! The girls behind me sprinted to me and pulled me up, “I’m fine, it’s ok, I’m fine!” I say before I really know if I am or not, but I’m up and moving forward. I let the girls pull away while I take stock. My left palm is bleeding again, I rub my left quad, it’s bound to have some lovely colours and a few scuffs too but I wasn’t pulling my tights down to check just yet, at least there were no holes in them, my knee had another wee dunt but didn’t feel too bad, my ribs feel tender where they landed on my water bottle, I give them a good prodding, nothing broken, I think, just another bruise. I use a little of my water to rinse the blood off my hands since I’m not far from Inversnaid and will be filling my bottle up soon and decide I was lucky not to have done major damage, I reprimand myself for being such a muppet and to pick my feet up. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">At Inversnaid it’s lovely to see friends manning the checkpoint, John is wearing a life jacket and having a great day monitoring the race from a boat. I quickly ditch my rubbish, pick up my drop bag and stuff a squeezy sachet of baby mac ‘n’ cheese and wee bottle of flat coke in a pouch and leave, no hanging around. A minute or two later I realise I’d forgotten to top up my water bottle, I check it and realise I have around 150mls maybe 200mls left, I consider turning back but decide it will be ok, although it’s not that far to Beinglas, it does take twice as long as it looks on paper, I won’t be breaking sweat along the most technical part, it’s slow going for a short arse with stecky legs, I also have the 250 ml bottle of coke to see me through to Beinglas, I’ll be fine. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I enjoy the scrambly bits not worrying about the time it takes, I feel it gives your running legs a rest and a good stretch for the muscles. It doesn’t take too long before I spy the flat grassy bit and ease back into running. I steadily climb up to Dario’s post, I pass on a kiss for Lee and share a wee dram with Dario, Martyn joins me in a toast to our absent friend, is it really ten years since you left us? </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Martyn and I stay together until Beinglas where Wilson filled my water bottle, I chat to Ada, and I inhale the aroma of proper coffee but I resist the offer of a cup, one of my traditions is that I’m caffeine free until Bridge of Orchy, I’ll save the hit for Rannoch Moor. When I found out crews wouldn’t be able to get in, my first thought was “ Aw naw, I usually enjoy soup there!” but having a drop bag at Beinglas was fine, as much as I like my wee traditions being able to accept and adapt to changes is the key to having a successful race. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It was now around noon, the sky clear, the sun shining, the path ahead open with no shade, my full length black tights were absorbing the sun’s warmth like solar panels, I love running warm but even for me it was getting a bit roasty toasty, so I slowed right down and would save myself for when it cooled, knowing I’d be going through a second night, I feel it would be detrimental to my race to push on in the heat, it’s maybe worth the risk at the pointy end finishing in under 20 hours or thereabouts (part-timers) but for those of us finishing closer to the full time allowed, we need to play the long game and pace it accordingly, I have a wee saying for running in the heat. “If you’re too hot, you going too fast!” </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I had a nice tootle along past Derrydarroch and Not Coo Poo Alley, a path upgrade I’m quite happy with, there will be no nostalgia about being shin deep in shit from me. Val and Gillian were driving up today and joining the crew, a wee bonus for me, they walked up the hill from Crianlarich to meet me with a tub of mashed potato/sweet-potato//cheese, I’d made it quite sloppy so it would be easy for me to eat but I was disappointed to see it had firmed up over night, they walked with me up the wee steep hill from the big gate to the trees while I forced in a few spoonfuls, I couldn’t not eat some after they’d made the effort to bring it to me! Besides, it was brilliant to see their fresh cheery faces, they waved cheerio, “See you in Tyndrum!” as I headed onto the roller-coaster. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I had to wait ages to cross the road after the funfair, I stood with my hands on my hips, elbows out, giving the traffic my best scowl. “I do not stand still! GET OUT MY WAY!” Harumph! Finally I crossed over and made steady progress towards Auchtertyre, looking forward to my soup and a shoe change. After being weighed by Tim and Murial, Pauline led me to where the car was parked, I was handed my mug and was expected to leave… “Err… my shoe change?” A look of surprise all round! “What shoe change? That’s not on the list!” I let out a big dramatic sigh, “Was nobody listening to me at Rowardennan? What a rubbish bunch of support! Yer all sacked!” Within seconds I’m sat in my chair with my feet up, Ken is doing my feet and I’m enjoying my cream of chicken soup, receiving the same level of cheek back, it’s all in fun and those within earshot laughed at our antics. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Although I really enjoyed my soup I think I rattled it in a bit quick, it was sitting heavy in my stomach so again I kept the pace easy towards Tyndrum as I let my tummy settle. Pauline joined me at Tyndrum and we heading towards Bridge of Orchy I said out loud that my left shoulder was awfy sore, did it take a dunt when I fell or was it more from my posture? I think I might be rounding my shoulders trying to keep my ribs from being held tight to my water bottle, I loosened the straps of my race vest a wee bit, stretched my arms above my head, rolled my shoulders, lifted my head and let my shoulder blades slide down my back, relaxing and restoring my posture. I smiled thinking about having my first coffee in weeks and let that thought pull me on, Pauline faffs about with my camera, pointing it at me and making me run bits that I would’ve walked, a cunning ploy! </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A lovely surprise as soon as I came out of the tunnel under the railway in Bridge of Orchy, my team were waiting there with my coffee, I was going to savour this, Ken swapped places with Pauline and we walked down through the checkpoint pausing only to dib in before heading up to Jelly Baby Hill. We spent a bit of time with Murdo, thank you, you’ve done a grand job over the years. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">On Rannoch Moor we were striding out a good walk on the long inclines and running some bits, always looking around, today with the good weather it’s vastness was benign and easy going, the last time Ken was with me on this section we were in full waterproofs battling with the weather and occasionally Ken was grabbing my backpack to stop me blowing away! It was still a long haul picking the smoothest path over the cobbles and stones looking up towards Fleming’s Memorial, it takes ages to come into view and even longer to reach it. Ken sent a text to say where we were and we be heading down the rough bouldery path soon. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Arriving in Glencoe at 9.30pm it was cooling down so I put on the thick thermal I had tied round my waist at Bridge of Orchy, I still didn’t feel the need to gear up but I’ll now carry the cut-off waterproof breeks, more as a windproof if I got cold, I’ll also carry the blue fleece, another tradition, I rarely wear it these days, keeping it special, I had it on going over the Devil’s Staircase in 2007, the year of my PB and it’s full of good vibes! Sue was joining me now and staying with me to finish, the setting sun cast beautiful rosy-golden hues around the hills, these views fuelled my heart and soul, far more potent than the macaroni cheese I’d just fuelled my body with. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">At Altnafeadh fairy-lights adorned the crash-barrier, of course it was Sarah! What a boost to see you and have a hug to send me on my way. It was time to put on the head-torches, I prefer to be over the Devil’s Staircase and heading down and round towards Kinlochleven in daylight or at least light enough not to need a torch, it’s easier to pick a path with a bit more vision than just a circle of light a few metres ahead, it hasn’t happened for a few years now but never mind, it’s not as if I don’t know where I’m going! </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I was pleased with how well my legs were coping with the miles and miles of downhill to Kinlochleven, it didn’t take several lifetimes as it has before, I was pleasantly surprised on how quickly it seemed to pass. After being hugged and weighed by Julie, I was sat eating porridge, Pauline flossing between my toes with a wet-wipe, she knows it makes me squirm, this was an extra sock change, I felt there was something in my sock jagging my foot, slight problem, Pauline had put the offending socks back on, Val had tidied them onto a pair so they looked like fresh ones, lucky Pauline noticed the real fresh ones before I put my shoes back on! Gillian joined us now, it’s great having more than one keeping me company since my conversation is usually rubbish by this time so at least Sue and Gillian can chat away and I can listen. It was slow and steady on the steep climb out, at the clearing at the top we pause and look back down over the lights of Kinlochleven,we could see head-torches at the top of the descent heading into the town, I lifted and dropped my head hoping they could see my torch flash across to them and catch the good vibes I was sending.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I was still feeling good, I felt it was me setting the pace and I was joining in with conversation too, previously my crew on Lairig Mor tend to pull away and I follow muttering under my breath about being left behind. Having a really easy spell in the heat of the day seems to have paid off. We blether along to Jeff and his wee oasis and pause for a wee juice. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Heading towards Lundavra I don’t really fancy the hot chocolate/coffee combo on my list but I can’t think of what else I would manage, I ask Sue and Gillian for suggestions and I’m told if you don’t fancy anything in particular just stick with what’s on the plan. Good call, I am tired and maybe not as clear-headed as I think. I have a couple of wee blisters, a few scuffs and bruises but nothing to diminish the joy of being here, this was the best I have ever felt, although my legs were weary they moved well. I never had any real dips, of course I felt uncomfortable at times, covering 95 miles in one go is never going to be easy! My main goal was to finish smiling, in fact it was to smile all the way, I was in a very privileged position, I don’t take for granted I’ll be alive, fit and healthy next year, if this was my final time I was enjoying every precious moment. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pauline joined the ranks again and we headed up the hill for the final six-ish miles, it does have some lovely swoops and climbs but with near 90 miles in the legs it’s tough going and I did prefer when the trees were there to hide the steep climb up to the fire road. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NTC6X-bTtUg/XTRzobOkLhI/AAAAAAAAFE8/F5lDXEhsJiIkQ0gidPQw_r9rXLpHZBcxwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_5870%2B%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NTC6X-bTtUg/XTRzobOkLhI/AAAAAAAAFE8/F5lDXEhsJiIkQ0gidPQw_r9rXLpHZBcxwCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_5870%2B%25282%2529.jpg" width="300" /></span></a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">I don’t need any encouragement to move, just letting my body and terrain dictate the pace between running, walking and shuffling down to Braveheart and along the road, my crew makes me cross over long before the Leisure Centre, I am happy to embrace the new finish but they take no chances I might deviate to slap my hands on the Leisure Centre doors. Ken had parked at the Nevis Centre and ran out to meet us and lead us through the jinks to the new finish, into the side door, there’s the arch! I’m finished! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">I have done something that I find hard to take in, I am the first woman to complete the race fifteen times. Neil finishes for the fifteen time this year too, making five of us amongst the 1429 finishers to have done this! </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">None of this would be possible without the unwavering support I’ve had, not just from my wonderful crew, also my West Highland Way family and not just during the race but through the health problems I’ve had in previous years, I could not have coped so well without you and will never forget that. I thank you all for being there and making me the person I am today. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Nobody’s tomorrow is guaranteed and I hope my West Highland Way Race story has not reached the end. To be continued...</span></div>
Fiona Renniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18268067089290474811noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475346168209566942.post-90033244980761346052019-05-14T15:57:00.000+00:002019-05-14T15:57:27.362+00:00The Highland Fling 2019 (The soggy one) <div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Pauline arrived at mine and Mags picked us both up at 3.45am then we met Iona in Kincardine and we arrived in Milngavie just before the first bus from Tyndrum arrived, nicely timed to get registered, hand in drop bags and a visit to the loo before the queues began. Now just to decide what jacket to carry, I’d brought two, the big bomb-proof one that has seen me through Tsunami conditions or the lighter one which doesn’t have a hood, the forecast I’d seen was for showers and it was mild, with no mention of weather with a girls name! I was dressed warmly, two long-sleeved tops under my club vest, long tights and my kilt, I wasn’t even wearing gloves, if anything I felt slightly overdressed so I opted for the light one. (No plot spoiler but the weather didn’t do what the BBC or XCWeather predicted and with hind-sight I wished I’d chosen my big coat!) While faffing with my bag, I checked my phone and foil blanket for the umpteenth time, I even made Mags and Iona check I had them, how embarrassing would it be if I was disqualified for being an eejit. I handed my kit-bag into the baggage lorry then just hugged loads of friends until it was time to head into the starting pens just after John’s breifing for the 6.00am start. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For the last few years there’s been one mass start in three waves, two minutes apart, awfy fast folk in the first wave, fairly fast folk in the second wave and rest of us waited in the party pen for the final wave. </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dz_d2kqN1OU/XNragd-cn4I/AAAAAAAAEy0/r6lyRdlxJgEcjFNbkJM4lJzV_a1I892cACLcBGAs/s1600/Richard%2BNewall%2B%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="503" data-original-width="540" height="371" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dz_d2kqN1OU/XNragd-cn4I/AAAAAAAAEy0/r6lyRdlxJgEcjFNbkJM4lJzV_a1I892cACLcBGAs/s400/Richard%2BNewall%2B%25282%2529.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">photo from Richard Newall</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The excitement in Milngavie is almost tangible, it never stops being special, even though this is my eighth Fling and my twenty-second race starting under the tunnel and hoofing north on the West Highland Way! </span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7u6hFoXHjTQ/XNra_y3J-TI/AAAAAAAAEy8/Cah3FNDBKsIVMQL7elEAFqif-kFRR2izgCLcBGAs/s1600/Monument%2BPhotos.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="960" height="266" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7u6hFoXHjTQ/XNra_y3J-TI/AAAAAAAAEy8/Cah3FNDBKsIVMQL7elEAFqif-kFRR2izgCLcBGAs/s400/Monument%2BPhotos.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">photo from Monument Photos </span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I scuffed my foot along the pavement and gave a wee squeak, Pauline shouted “Don’t fall yet!” I laughed and replied that I didn’t really plan to fall at all! That set the precedence for any time either of us stubbed a toe or bobbled on a boulder we’d shout at each other “Don’t fall yet!”</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was nice steady running to Gartness where walking up the hill I had my second breakfast, a Weetabix milkshake, my first one was ages ago at around 3.00am! Then swiftly through the kit check on the grassy hill at Drymen with no worries. </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_BNiOrrF-3A/XNrb_f-hDVI/AAAAAAAAEzQ/U6UniW4GSCo2EQskTtFRwmpyuhrSx6mhACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_7044.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1091" data-original-width="1600" height="272" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_BNiOrrF-3A/XNrb_f-hDVI/AAAAAAAAEzQ/U6UniW4GSCo2EQskTtFRwmpyuhrSx6mhACLcBGAs/s400/IMG_7044.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Conic hill loomed, so did the dark clouds, the wind picked up and I put my gloves on, Pauline put on her jacket, I stubbornly held off, I was wearing cosy layers and I was sure that as soon as we’d be heading down into Balmaha I’d be taking it off again... Aw stuff it! This is daft, no point getting soaked and freezing, I got my jacket on! </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3t_JSqpF04U/XNreyDmbKII/AAAAAAAAE0M/0reOv-_GlIIOyJCanvqDB5o1InFh93sEgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_7193.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1057" data-original-width="1521" height="277" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3t_JSqpF04U/XNreyDmbKII/AAAAAAAAE0M/0reOv-_GlIIOyJCanvqDB5o1InFh93sEgCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_7193.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_tCoU0CGU1A/XNrfAgcsJpI/AAAAAAAAE0Q/AtExUcJlgCUSq48dRmy79ErsNsJmbpn_ACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_7218%2B%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1135" data-original-width="1600" height="282" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_tCoU0CGU1A/XNrfAgcsJpI/AAAAAAAAE0Q/AtExUcJlgCUSq48dRmy79ErsNsJmbpn_ACLcBGAs/s400/IMG_7218%2B%25282%2529.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well Done Graeme! I wasn’t sure if you’d be at the top of Conic to take photos in this weather, lovely to see you!</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zwtVL3fhrAY/XNrcknyrgOI/AAAAAAAAEzc/y3dlVkjKypwSQ5YqQWS_vH8bN3fFPpNSQCLcBGAs/s1600/Monument%2BPhotos.jpg3%2B%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="595" data-original-width="530" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zwtVL3fhrAY/XNrcknyrgOI/AAAAAAAAEzc/y3dlVkjKypwSQ5YqQWS_vH8bN3fFPpNSQCLcBGAs/s400/Monument%2BPhotos.jpg3%2B%25282%2529.jpg" width="356" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">photo from Monument Photos </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dPvuyzdNmyM/XNrdaxz738I/AAAAAAAAEzw/SKvaFJAqu98zWpfcnbACjjwrLsGRFGMzwCLcBGAs/s1600/Kay%2BRoxby%2B%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="531" data-original-width="740" height="286" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dPvuyzdNmyM/XNrdaxz738I/AAAAAAAAEzw/SKvaFJAqu98zWpfcnbACjjwrLsGRFGMzwCLcBGAs/s400/Kay%2BRoxby%2B%25282%2529.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">photo from Kay Roxby </span></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Balmaha and a big hug from Big Davie, you’re are looking well and great to see you, I paused briefly to down another milkshake so I could bin the empty rather than have to carry it to Rowardennan. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I love the ups, downs and steep wee climbs through the trees of this section, yes, the jacket did come off...for a wee while! The bluebells were showing promise of the lilac carpet they will be in a couple of weeks, we scampered along and Rowardennan was soon in sight, the support was great and I again paused at the bin as I polished off another milkshake and picked up a squeezy sachet of custard. </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8nd5m8b20W0/XNrfa9WvT8I/AAAAAAAAE0c/LAxDoYutvLAVmeuyX9YvH3bJ5ObXNKazQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_7291.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="967" data-original-width="1399" height="276" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8nd5m8b20W0/XNrfa9WvT8I/AAAAAAAAE0c/LAxDoYutvLAVmeuyX9YvH3bJ5ObXNKazQCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_7291.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Heading towards Inversnaid we could feel the chilly wind bite and the rain was persistent, the jacket was back on. At Inversnaid we hung around just long enough to drink my bottle of coke and to blether to Egle and Graeme. Pauline has been recovering from a duff achilles and not done a lot of running recently so she felt a bit out of practice along the technical loch side, but with it being so wet and having had a horde of runners tramping along before us the boulders and tree roots were slick with mud, care was needed so we took it easy. One of our group bashed their head on a low branch while concentrating on their footing, we all waited, feeling pretty helpless, while she held her hands on her forehead until she gathered herself together and managed to get going again. We made it to the end without losing anyone into the loch. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Once we reached the flat grassy bit we paused briefly, Pauline sorted her shoe, I faffed with my jacket and zipped it up to my neck, I was wearing my peaked Buff and I added another normal Buff over it to keep my head cosy, the cold was giving me a mild headache, I wished I’d brought another pair of gloves, the ones I was wearing were soaked through from hanging on to soggy trees and boulders. I wasn’t hypothermic but chilled through and cold enough to make me feel miserable... if I chose to be! This is the West Highland Way, I could never be miserable running here no matter the conditions! My freezing fingers, still worked but only just, it took an effort to move them but I managed to unscrew the lid on my hip-flask when we paused with Dario. </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-If_D6NmSa00/XNrfn0yyWDI/AAAAAAAAE0g/Zsw_AzirNBwZMharQr8r601dfb7qcE6ygCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_7357%2B%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1175" data-original-width="1600" height="293" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-If_D6NmSa00/XNrfn0yyWDI/AAAAAAAAE0g/Zsw_AzirNBwZMharQr8r601dfb7qcE6ygCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_7357%2B%25282%2529.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-q5hTqHl9zzY/XNrfv7yWJHI/AAAAAAAAE0o/QRgvzuHLGZow5_v_wFroxTvbx24FTEy2QCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_7361.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1220" data-original-width="1600" height="303" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-q5hTqHl9zzY/XNrfv7yWJHI/AAAAAAAAE0o/QRgvzuHLGZow5_v_wFroxTvbx24FTEy2QCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_7361.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">With so much rain the waterfall at Inversnaid was quite impressive and wee burns appeared where usually there’s none and at the burn just before Beinglas there was no point trying to use the steppy stones, it was just a wade across, “Oh well, that’ll get the mud out my toenails!” Even the primroses, usually little rays of sunshine, had their heads bowed and looked weather weary. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Into Beinglas and into Julie’s arms, she hugged me so tight, my feet left the ground, I closed my eyes and drew in her warmth, I stayed there as long as possible feeling like that moment when you’re cosy in bed on a winter's morning and you know you have to get up and you don’t want to. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We stood and chatted with Julie and Neil, Julie was surprised I was standing still, not a normal occurrence for me on the West Highland Way but since this was the Fling I don’t have a support crew to pander to my needs and walk me through checkpoints to take my empties, I was willing to hang around for as long as it took me to drink my wee can of coffee. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There’s a fair bit of climbing from Beinglas some you just have to walk, others were “sloggable” we used Pauline’s technique of run 100 paces then decide whether to walk it or shuffle on, we made steady progress along hoping to warm up a smidge with the effort. Through the crack yer heid tunnel then under the road and up that nasty climb to coo poo alley... nae coos... nae poo and the upgraded path a veritable carpet! Wonderful! Then the wee colourful oasis of Bogle Glen with Katie and Graham and onto the rollercoaster, we kept a steady effort on the ups and came down hill in “I’m saving my quads for later” mode for no real reason other than I haven’t pushed hard all day so no point starting now.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Pauline and I put no pressure on each other to stay together but we do run well side by side I wouldn’t say I waited for her along the loch but I felt it easy, I wasn’t for rushing anyway, besides Pauline has form for pushing the pace after crossing the road towards Auchtertyre I thought she was bound to drag me from there. There was a car approaching as we stood waiting to get over but it stopped for us and shouted encouragement as we crossed, it must been runners, they've finished and on their way home, lovely of them to let us over. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Pauline looked at her watch and said that if we wanted to be under 14 hours we’d have to push on, I replied that I was happy to maintain but wasn’t for busting a gut, this was going to be the slowest Fling for both of us and I was quite relieved when Pauline confirmed that she was happy to trundle in without puffing and blowing, Pauline’s then said “Well, if we didn’t stop to hug marshals, pose for photos and spend time with Dario we would’ve been under the 14 hours.” But it wouldn’t be the Fling is I didn’t get to do all that! Despite the weather we were having a brilliant day out and time wasn’t on the agenda, more important for us to have a grand day without any problems, building up for our big races. From Auchtertyre it was a bit of a slog into the wind and our shout changed from “Don’t fall yet!” to “Don’t fall now!” mainly because we didn’t want to lose our rhythm or if one of us went down it would’ve been a huge effort to get back up again! </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yay! The piper, a big smile and a thumbs up in thanks, and onto the red carpet. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As soon as we rounded the bend, Pauline took off and stole two or three yards, I chased her down matching her pace, she wasn’t getting it without a fight and she knew I wouldn’t just give her the win, she pushed on, so did I, but I couldn’t make up the head start she had, as hard as I tried! </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-93_1aKy-Be8/XNrf9340ujI/AAAAAAAAE0w/RrYKWoQ9Dq0I5flJMVMfMU6oIal05UJQwCLcBGAs/s1600/Graham%2BMilne.jpg6%2B%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="531" data-original-width="744" height="285" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-93_1aKy-Be8/XNrf9340ujI/AAAAAAAAE0w/RrYKWoQ9Dq0I5flJMVMfMU6oIal05UJQwCLcBGAs/s400/Graham%2BMilne.jpg6%2B%25282%2529.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">photo from Graham Milne </span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I should’ve expected it really, after my shenanigans on the red carpet last year, I dropped my Squeezy Carnation Milk, Pauline waited for me while I went back to pick it up but once I’d picked up momentum to catch her up I kept it going and pipped her on the line! </span></span><br />
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But it’s all in fun, there were hugs all round, I received my medal from Mags, Sue took my dobber and brought back my slip with my splits and finish time, a pose at the finish line for the giggles, another mugshot at the finishers backdrop, a can of beer from Ken, a hefty goodie bag and another special hug from Julie, then a cup of tea. Phew, a moment to catch my breath with more congratulatory hugs in the tea tent before a shower and food. </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Dum-ytIsnvw/XNrgPQMxzpI/AAAAAAAAE08/pyy9UZ0TfdYnx7W-S2VDW27G_MU02rxzwCLcBGAs/s1600/Graham%2BMilne.jpg3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="787" data-original-width="960" height="327" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Dum-ytIsnvw/XNrgPQMxzpI/AAAAAAAAE08/pyy9UZ0TfdYnx7W-S2VDW27G_MU02rxzwCLcBGAs/s400/Graham%2BMilne.jpg3.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">photo from Graham Milne</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Pauline finished her soup and baked tattie before me and got up from the bench and tried to squeeze past me, she placed her hand on the wall to get by, but it’s not a wall it’s a big tent so the “wall” moved, Pauline lost her balance but my hood made a great safety grab and she soon regained her balance, luckily I was only mildly throttled and recovered to finish my grub! </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Mags was off duty now after her long day and it was time to head home but there was no nodding off in the car as Mags recounted loads of finish line stories, from the do or die PB’s to a marriage proposal and dreams realised. I hope everyone has taken away a memory to cherish. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thank you Johnny for another fantastic day, you and your team produced another brilliant race in challenging conditions, which would’ve been pretty tough for you guys, hanging around in checkpoints getting chilled to the bone but still smiling. Outstanding effort just so a bunch of folk could scamper up a beautiful trail. Us runners had the easy job! </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sooooo, if all goes well next year and Pauline and I run together again, I’ll be ready for the best of three, it’ll be gloves off and elbows out as soon as we hit the red carpet!</span></span></div>
Fiona Renniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18268067089290474811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475346168209566942.post-52381093997718554312019-04-10T20:20:00.000+00:002019-04-11T07:07:48.669+00:0050km races are a bit like buses<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">You don’t do one in ages then two come along together! Well, a fortnight apart to be precise and two very different races, the first one, the Self Transcendence 50km covered twenty-one laps of a flat tarmac loop of 1.47miles at Perth’s North Inches and the second one, a hilly trail with the only real flat bit being the length of Kielder Dam! </span></span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-5d2a401f-7fff-d675-6569-f9eb245fd86e" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></b>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">I did have a bit of a dilemma when I realised Perth clashed with the beautiful Loch Katrine Marathon, I love that race and was sorry to miss it, but with the Anglo-Celtic Plate coming to Scotland once every three or four years incorporating an open 100km and 50km I wouldn’t get to run round the Inches again for a good few years. It might sound a bit boring running round and round but it’s a lovely loop that flows nicely and having done two 24 hour races on it and the open 100km the last time the Anglo-Celtic Plate was in Perth I was looking forward to just doing the “wee” one this time! Plus there was plenty going on, watching the youngsters rugby training in the morning and matches in the afternoon, shouting encouragement to the home nations battling out the Anglo- Celtic Plate when they lapped me, and having a few wee blethers when I was side by side with runners. </span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It was brilliant to see so many friends volunteering at the event and even more pop up throughout the day and shout support. There was a good contingent of Carnegie Harriers, four of us running the 50km, Jonathan, David, Jane and myself, Jo representing Scotland in the Anglo-Celtic Plate with Val, Ken, Sue and Gillian supporting the Scottish team and Jennifer helping in the food tent. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It’s been ten years since I last ran a flat 50km on tarmac (Glenrothes 50km) so I was just hoping for a good strong steady run not aiming for a specific time. There was quite a fierce wind so no point wasting energy fighting it, I just kept an equal effort round the loop and tried not to get blown into the river when it was blowing me sideways, I locked into my cruise control, knocking out pretty consistent laps only pausing at my table twice during the race to swap my water bottle and pick up a tube of Squeezy Carnation Milk and a gel that I’d laid out ready, never losing my rhythm, staying strong to the finish. I checked back my diary I was pleased to see I finished just a few minutes adrift from the aforementioned 50km ten years ago.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kzSk93qED1Q/XK5JW3oiZ0I/AAAAAAAAEsM/NvYrJbXiu-stJtuz0uBvW0pMcXXqsyG4QCLcBGAs/s1600/Steve%2BAdams.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" data-original-height="625" data-original-width="937" height="266" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kzSk93qED1Q/XK5JW3oiZ0I/AAAAAAAAEsM/NvYrJbXiu-stJtuz0uBvW0pMcXXqsyG4QCLcBGAs/s400/Steve%2BAdams.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444;">photo from Steve Adams</span></td></tr>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">I’m maybe making it sound like running 31 miles isn’t arduous but I held Ian in my heart, keeping me strong, he should’ve been celebrating his thirty-third birthday this weekend, he will forever remain twenty-two, mouth cancer took him from his family. No matter how tired or sore I felt during the race I was alive and well, I was here to do him proud, it was a pleasure and a privilege to run in his memory. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">I’d persuaded Pauline to join me for the Kielder Ultra, it would be a grand day out in beautiful scenery with no pressure, just time on feet and perfect timing being three weeks before the Fling. So after an early start, just over a two hour drive we were sitting in the Kielder Castle Cafe in front of a real fire having a pot of tea with Susan before the start. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">Kielder Water is the biggest man-made lake in Northern Europe and the forest built round about it is pretty impressive too. The weather was a bit grey and misty, nothing extreme, no rain, pretty perfect really. In just over half a mile you start to climb, it’s fairly steep and goes on for ages then undulates with views over the water.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dj-gtV0nkNs/XK5KfY20hpI/AAAAAAAAEsY/A9zLsPbbguwU1rme3yfb3VcZtK8NCjQ9QCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_6299.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1176" data-original-width="1600" height="293" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dj-gtV0nkNs/XK5KfY20hpI/AAAAAAAAEsY/A9zLsPbbguwU1rme3yfb3VcZtK8NCjQ9QCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_6299.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: #444444;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OykdDmQy8GQ/XK5KqSvNj-I/AAAAAAAAEsc/sbv_RF1J7QMNBtraORXlKcXmxkEhhi5dQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_6334.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1160" data-original-width="1600" height="288" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OykdDmQy8GQ/XK5KqSvNj-I/AAAAAAAAEsc/sbv_RF1J7QMNBtraORXlKcXmxkEhhi5dQCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_6334.JPG" width="400" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">The route is a cracker with over 3000 feet of climbing, forest track, narrow tree rooted paths, mud, boggy spongy moss, heather and a smidge of road, the only real flat bit is the length of Kielder Dam. </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2LaavGWUxMc/XK5MBIzNbMI/AAAAAAAAEs8/wwVO8cGZzSMkdza1Qf2bhIsvvhTamjouACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_6703.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1119" data-original-width="1600" height="278" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2LaavGWUxMc/XK5MBIzNbMI/AAAAAAAAEs8/wwVO8cGZzSMkdza1Qf2bhIsvvhTamjouACLcBGAs/s400/IMG_6703.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">Pauline has a strategy for the Great Glen Ultra we adopt, run for a hundred paces on every hill unless it’s of nosebleed gradient then decide whether to walk or keep running. We ran the race last year but couldn’t quite remember the route until we were on it, and with having done quite a few other off road ultras we kept saying stuff like this bit reminds me of the fire track down to Fort Bill, Dunoon 55km, John Muir Way 50km, even Devilla 15km! It was fun finding similarities to other great races we’d done. We’d forgotten about one bit, there’s a right bar-steward of a hill within the last few miles that climbs for around a mile, Pauline changed the run/walk ratio to 20/20 paces and call out every transition, it takes a bit of discipline to keep it going but it saves you getting locked into constant walking and easier to get back into running without feeling clunky once you reached the top, I had a wee cheer once we started to descend then we turned onto a narrow wooded trail along a river with short steep climbs and descents and a few steps (a bit like those heading down to Balmaha), over a bridge and ta-dah the finish! </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlsfHxM1v8N-q8gpn5n_5vcCX0RXvLHYBIbK1GtFP6Y0MTQJhVtGNkElSIAAKTbEBG1Al2ZI6pbvhjPBPjxKffpUDIDreOzMlWJq5RU1vbeDlIl7GQA64Nb56RPgYPRby4UqpDu6-wj6E/s1600/High+Terrain+Events.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="768" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlsfHxM1v8N-q8gpn5n_5vcCX0RXvLHYBIbK1GtFP6Y0MTQJhVtGNkElSIAAKTbEBG1Al2ZI6pbvhjPBPjxKffpUDIDreOzMlWJq5RU1vbeDlIl7GQA64Nb56RPgYPRby4UqpDu6-wj6E/s400/High+Terrain+Events.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444;">photo from High Terrain Events</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">Being around an hour and half slower than Perth shows the difference the terrain makes but we were over ten minutes quicker than last year so happy with that. </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L0xMVP79Gsk/XK5OzlCcYLI/AAAAAAAAEt8/TIUUOo4OZiET5I71bYH4RxgmtkANLGtggCLcBGAs/s1600/Kielder%2BProfile.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="279" data-original-width="865" height="128" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L0xMVP79Gsk/XK5OzlCcYLI/AAAAAAAAEt8/TIUUOo4OZiET5I71bYH4RxgmtkANLGtggCLcBGAs/s400/Kielder%2BProfile.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">Two variations of the same distance and I’m glad I’m pretty ambidextrous regards road and trail and enjoy doing both. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">While I’m waffling about 50km, it’s exactly twenty years since I first did the distance, the Speyside Way 50km organised by Don Ritchie, in those days the results didn’t appear the same evening or following day on the internet, you waited at least a week for them to arrive in the post. I still cherish Don’s personal post-it note, not all running treasures hang around your neck. </span></span></div>
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Fiona Renniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18268067089290474811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475346168209566942.post-43089030399221123832019-01-08T17:58:00.000+00:002019-01-08T17:58:05.966+00:00Is the triple crown real? <div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">In a single word. No. Ok, that sounds a bit harsh but I don’t want folk coming into the West Highland Way Race, especially for the first time feeling that it is a lesser achievement unless they go on to complete all three races on the route in a calendar year. It might just be me but I feel the West Highland Way Race deserves a bit more respect than to lump it with other races just for an extra hurrah. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Is this lot any the less sparkly because I’ve never followed them up by dragging my tired carcass over the latter half of the route six weeks later?</span></div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-085sGmPa1j4/XDTfuSfE1CI/AAAAAAAAECo/0iiJ22Ok43sN9UdK_JFywH2FAdI-TFBBwCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_1066.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1093" data-original-width="1600" height="272" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-085sGmPa1j4/XDTfuSfE1CI/AAAAAAAAECo/0iiJ22Ok43sN9UdK_JFywH2FAdI-TFBBwCEwYBhgL/s400/IMG_1066.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">For the triple crown be recognised officially, I think the challenge should cross from one year to the next, completing all races within ten months, starting with the Devil O’ the Highland in August, followed by the Highland Fling in April and finishing with the final jewel in the crown, the West Highland Way in June sounds a more fitting and sensible way to do it. There could even be a separate wee presentation after the main prize-giving to those that have completed it, although I don’t think that would be fair to WHW race organisers to do it, they have been on duty long before the 1.00am start and are still on duty long after the 35 hour time limit. So unless someone else would be willing to take it on it wouldn’t be feasible. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I mean no disrespect to the Highland Fling or the Devil O’ the Highlands they are both fantastic races in their own right and should not be used just to make up the numbers. There are many runners who see these races as the pinnacle of their running career. Although I have never run the Devil O’ the Highlands I have never missed it either, in the role of support I am an ever present, in the early years I crewed for lots of friends, this is one of my favourite photos, supporting Robin in 2014, these days you’ll find Pauline and I up the top of Devil’s staircase supporting everyone. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">These races weren’t around when I first ran the West Highland Way race I remember what it took out of me that first time, I had a good idea what was ahead, I had done Pauline’s support three times and covered the whole route in training, but the longest race I had done was the 35 mile Two Bridges Road Race, it was a huge step for me, there is no substitute for experience, also I’ve never claimed to be a great athlete, just a determined plodder.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Nowadays runners with more natural ability and having served their apprenticeship learning their craft might manage without damaging themselves, with the vast amount of races around, you can build up gradually, the Great Glen Ultra and Glenmore 24 are perfect for practicing running without sleep, with both of them you only lose one night's sleep, (even if you manage to run 100 miles in a 24 hour race don’t let that lull you into a hope of a sub 24 hour WHW, they are different beasts) so folk are standing under the tunnel in Milngavie with a lot more experience than I ever had, although regardless of the amount of times I’ve done it doesn’t get any easier and every year has different challenges, I still feel I need more than six weeks recovery before taking on another ultra. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It is just that over the years, I’ve seen many get to the end of the Devil O’ the Highlands claiming a triple crown totally spent, injured and scunnered to the extent that they have had to take an exceptionally long time away from running to recover then build up slowly again, sadly, I know one person that never ran again. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Alright, I’m guilty of sounding like your Mum saying it’s cold out put your coat on, I have your best interests at heart and if you want to do a personal challenge of all three races on the West Highland Way in a calendar year go for it, but take a few years building up, be careful and kind to yourself and take the recovery you need so you don’t spend the following year plagued with illness and injury and never lose your love of running. </span></div>
Fiona Renniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18268067089290474811noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475346168209566942.post-52756804144841713122018-10-22T18:28:00.000+00:002018-10-22T19:08:04.850+00:00The Dramathon<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A 2.45am alarm...it must be a race day! A tad early but I like to have a decent breakfast and the time to eat it. Pauline, Michelle and I were meeting at the Halbeath Park and Ride for 4.15am before we drove up. Registration and the finish was at the Glenfiddich Distillery, we arrived in good time to register and have a bit of a blether with folk I haven’t seen in a while. With not much faffing we were ready and went over to get on one of the busses waiting to take the runners to the start at Glenfarclas Distillery, we timed it nicely that we were on the first bus to leave. So was Dougie Vipond, the Adventure Show was covering the event, now how many times does it take Dougie to get on a bus? Hundreds! Well, maybe a slight exaggeration but the bloke with the camera made him do it loads! </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The bonus of being on the first bus meant there wasn’t a humongous queue at the port-a-loos before going into the tasting room in the distillery. Aw, there was only water on offer, but it turned out we were a bit sharp, a few minutes later Chuck came over with a wee dram, so we went back for a wee taste. An organiser stuck his head in the door, “Right, you lot, outside, you’ve a race to run!” </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YrocuJB8-9Y/W84S4oVQ-XI/AAAAAAAAEA4/QQjEEmKnIPkYMYv1CvR2vL5ZqDZEKZceACLcBGAs/s1600/Chuck%2BGordon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="719" data-original-width="960" height="298" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YrocuJB8-9Y/W84S4oVQ-XI/AAAAAAAAEA4/QQjEEmKnIPkYMYv1CvR2vL5ZqDZEKZceACLcBGAs/s400/Chuck%2BGordon.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo from Chuck Gordon</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Looking around just before the start I realised there were a lot more runners than last year, we were quite near the back but that was ok, it’s a stiff wee climb straight from the off, and with just a fifteen year old Glenfarclas for a warm up we weren’t going to be pushing the pace, besides the Dramathon</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> is about having a good time not doing a good time,</span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> it’s one just to relax and enjoy.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The scenery is beautiful especially with the autumn colours, the sun was shining, it warmed up, my gloves were off, sleeves pushed up and I even removed my Buff. With no mile markers and mostly trail it feels more like a wee ultra than a marathon, folk were chatting away and we even walked the couple of steep wee climbs, normally I have a rule for marathons. No Walking Allowed! But the Dramathon isn’t your normal marathon. </span></div>
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<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pauline and I were happy to scamper along together but her Achilles tendon was giving her major grief and holding her back a bit, I was happy with the easy pace and didn’t mind that Pauline was using the drink stations for a bit of a skive, pausing to eat cake and sweeties. </span></b><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">After around nineteen miles, along the old railway we were working at a slightly higher rate, not quite the Flying Scotsman but pulling the miles in nicely, we went past Deziree and camera man, she shouted “How’s it going?” We steamed on by, me with a double thumbs up, cheesy grin and “Fine, thanks!” Maybe Pauline played it cooler, we weren’t stopping for a chat, this wasn’t the London Marathon and Deziree presents The Adventure Show not Blue Peter! </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo from Paul Jamieson</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Another few miles in I was regretting not using the port-a-loos at Aberlour, I was sure I’d be able to hang on but now I was bursting and trying to run with clenched buttocks was messing with my stride, so with around three miles to go I had to make a pit-stop, Pauline said she wanted to wait for me but at this stage if she stopped she might not get going again, in other words that translated to “Ok, I’ll just see ya at the finish then!” Her consoling parting shot was “Maybe once you’ve been, you’ll be more relaxed and might manage to put a spurt on and catch up!” Pfft! And after me hanging back for her when she was not the most comfortable! Actually I would’ve felt the same, no point prolonging it at this stage. Once I got going again I tried to put in a bit of effort but my rhythm was broken and a clunky shuffle was all I could muster, I reinstated my no walking rule and slogged it out to the finish and the best goody bag ever! </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pauline was waiting for me and so was Michelle, disappointed with injuring her knee but sensibly pulling out. We didn’t hang about long afterwards with another three-ish hour drive home and with me being the designated driver there would be no celebratory nip for me until I was home. But it was worth the early start and long drive, a cracking route, gorgeous scenery, a well organised event and whisky galore! Slainte! </span></div>
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Fiona Renniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18268067089290474811noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475346168209566942.post-51591684338793909742018-10-16T16:25:00.002+00:002024-03-18T08:11:19.759+00:00A holiday on the Skye Trail<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pauline and I have done bits and bobs of the Skye Trail over the past few years running mostly out and back routes from various points but for quite a while we’ve wanted to cover it all over a few days especially now we help marshal the Skye Trail Ultra. <a href="https://skyetrailultra.uk/">https://skyetrailultra.uk/</a> </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A holiday home in Portree was booked and we were lucky that Ken, Val and Allan were joining us, Gillian was meant to come too but an injury scuppered her running and wasn’t recovering as quickly as she’d hoped so she decided to cancel her leave and save her holidays for when she would be able to have adventures. They were happy to fit their walking, cycling and photographing around dropping us off and picking us up. Doing it at the beginning of October meant the weather could throw a spanner in the works, we weren’t worried about doing the route top to bottom, just fitting the sections around the best day for the Trotternish Ridge. We planned to do it over four days and we had to shuffle things about as the weather changed, Andy joined us for the two big days. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Day 1 - Blaven car park to Broadford, 14 miles</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ken dropped us off then headed for a walk and to watch the golf in the Broadford Hotel where we’d meet him after our run.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It was a sleeves up, sleeves down, sunshine, showers and a smattering of rainbows kind of day.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">A straightforward run on road to start with, then a rough track and along the shore to the ruins of Boreraig, a village abandoned during the Highland Clearances.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;">(race day tip - it can be tricky to know where to turn away from the shore in the hours of darkness but if you see the standing stone, that’s where to head up the hill.) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">The showers had been quite short and not too heavy until we were on the Marble Line, it was stotting down, Pauline wondered whether we should stop and pull on our waterproof breeks, I was sure I could see the end of the shower and with only a few miles to go, I shouted to just keep going which might not have been right choice, we were drookit by the time it eased off! But the wind was fairly strong and dried us out a bit, at least we’d stopped dripping by the time we reached Ken at the Broadford Hotel. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We had originally planned to do the Ridge today but heavy rain and low cloud was forecast so we decided to go from Sligachan, Andy drove down and left his van at the house then Val dropped Andy, Pauline and myself at Sligachan before heading to Elgol for a walk and to take photos. Ken and Allan cycled around Sligachan for a bit then went out the Moll Road until the “pot hole” and back.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We had arranged with Val to pick us up at the Blaven car park at around 4.30pm but Andy shot off like a puppy let free, I laughed and said to Pauline we’d better phone Val and make it 3.30pm! Andy soon settled the pace down to something we could keep up with, even assisting Pauline over steppy stones! </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A beautiful route through Sligachan Glen surrounded with magnificent mountains, Sgurr nan Gillean, Marsco and Bla Bheinn to name just a few, views to make your heart skip as well as the legs and I was really quite surprised the deer didn’t scamper off when they saw us.</span></div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-z8mDMLdUzos/W8Xt91MDLJI/AAAAAAAAD58/9_-pCQFUTJEw3inZCnEzOV2u3wJEFa36QCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_5348.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1055" data-original-width="1600" height="263" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-z8mDMLdUzos/W8Xt91MDLJI/AAAAAAAAD58/9_-pCQFUTJEw3inZCnEzOV2u3wJEFa36QCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_5348.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The rain had been spitting on and off through the wind as we approached Camasunary, we went into the bothy for a wee breather and to put on waterproofs, we’d be moving a lot slower from here. Heading to Elgol, it was a bit boggy to start with, then a wee steep climb to the narrow path above the the shore, it’s fine as long as you’re careful, Pauline isn’t too happy with heights, and it didn’t help that I was behind her giggling at her leaning to her left on the more exposed bits, so I went in front, but I could still hear her make the odd squeak! </span></div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ihl4_SRAMb8/W8XvNuFg6dI/AAAAAAAAD6U/hME1zJWOBiwmhKbzTDe1g6gctPcElynrQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_5402.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1191" data-original-width="1600" height="297" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ihl4_SRAMb8/W8XvNuFg6dI/AAAAAAAAD6U/hME1zJWOBiwmhKbzTDe1g6gctPcElynrQCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_5402.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bZYe2z9wiaI/W8Xwk3ERwCI/AAAAAAAAD60/b1daJhQxNpMIn_owHTcgyUpK3AVEj6JXwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_5495.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1087" data-original-width="1600" height="271" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bZYe2z9wiaI/W8Xwk3ERwCI/AAAAAAAAD60/b1daJhQxNpMIn_owHTcgyUpK3AVEj6JXwCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_5495.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The rain was now torrential, my camera was pretty wet so I stopped taking photos just before Elgol, there was no point but here’s what you can see on a dry day. </span></div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-awvhb04KhxM/W8XxRVXoVrI/AAAAAAAAD7A/jr8GY5pmoC0tRwAa9drbNzcE-U4p3IWuQCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_1949.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="860" data-original-width="1600" height="215" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-awvhb04KhxM/W8XxRVXoVrI/AAAAAAAAD7A/jr8GY5pmoC0tRwAa9drbNzcE-U4p3IWuQCEwYBhgL/s400/IMG_1949.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We nipped into the toilets and I spent longer than normal under the hand dryer, no chance of getting dry but nice to feel the warm air. From Elgol it was mostly just a soaking slog on tarmac for eight miles to the car park, it’s probably a lovely road to run on a nice day but after stunning Sligachan Glen it wasn’t my favourite bit, the rain never let up, eventually we could see Val sitting dry and cosy in her car, We had left bags with a change of dry clothes with her in the car but it would’ve been pointless trying to change in the sideways rain, I was a bit worried Val wouldn’t let us in case our soggy bottoms ruined her seats, but she had some blankets in the boot, we could sit on them, yay, we were allowed in! It didn’t seem too long until we were back at the house in Portree for another shower, a hot one! Poor Andy had about another half an hour drive until he was back home and out his soaking gear. </span></div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sXqmeaYCQII/W8Xxp4ZBbbI/AAAAAAAAD7I/KwuwZJ9s9MkSd08QuQ6yc2s5ob3xwXR0gCLcBGAs/s1600/Sligachan%2Bto%2BBlaven.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="442" data-original-width="669" height="263" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sXqmeaYCQII/W8Xxp4ZBbbI/AAAAAAAAD7I/KwuwZJ9s9MkSd08QuQ6yc2s5ob3xwXR0gCLcBGAs/s400/Sligachan%2Bto%2BBlaven.png" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zv3lnfwdEEk/W8Xx1AAOxnI/AAAAAAAAD7M/lhaKsdr9wPkG9MGSlOj_591FY8AA9sDsQCLcBGAs/s1600/Sligachan%2Bto%2BBlaven%2Bprofile.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="299" data-original-width="880" height="135" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zv3lnfwdEEk/W8Xx1AAOxnI/AAAAAAAAD7M/lhaKsdr9wPkG9MGSlOj_591FY8AA9sDsQCLcBGAs/s400/Sligachan%2Bto%2BBlaven%2Bprofile.png" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Day 3 - Duntulm to Portree - The big one! </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The randomness of my Garmin gave me 24.61 miles, 9.40.05 hours and 5658 ft elevation </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Yep, you read that right, just short of ten hours for twenty four and a half miles! My pace will never set the heather alight and this was no race day, we were on our holidays, but even during the race the leaders take at least seven hours for this section, the times reflects the terrain and never to be underestimated. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We planned an early start, Ken drove Pauline and I up, picking up Andy with a change of clothes for Ken to take back for after the run, we were finishing at the house since it was perfectly placed just off the the Staffin Road down from the Wigwams, Andy and Karen were joining us for our evening meal. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ken dropped us off at the phone box in Duntulm, Allan had instructions to have the bacon and egg rolls ready for his return, they were heading over to Raasay with their bikes unfortunately Ken’s bike gave up the ghost, I think they got a bit of cycling in before it died. </span></div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XtB0aOnDNRo/W8XyFppg8aI/AAAAAAAAD7U/MMaKqq02OTgVpoc1sPBmbGcfI9UVFbPJACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_5554.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1143" data-original-width="1600" height="285" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XtB0aOnDNRo/W8XyFppg8aI/AAAAAAAAD7U/MMaKqq02OTgVpoc1sPBmbGcfI9UVFbPJACLcBGAs/s400/IMG_5554.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A nice gentle couple of miles on road for starters, then around a mile of heather bashing and bog hopping, Andy was keen to try and keep his feet dry so we picked our way through carefully, I think he was fairly successful, me, not so much, within five minutes both feet were soggy, at least I only went in up to my ankles, it could’ve been a lot deeper! </span></div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CV3nhtKECaM/W8XywS61bjI/AAAAAAAAD7k/2sASheD4Z9o7cV1LspFJNieP964vIlVgwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_5573.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1074" data-original-width="1600" height="267" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CV3nhtKECaM/W8XywS61bjI/AAAAAAAAD7k/2sASheD4Z9o7cV1LspFJNieP964vIlVgwCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_5573.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The weather was dry but strong winds were forecast, (the travel report on the radio warned of bridges closed to high sided vehicles and to check ferrys for cancellations) I’m glad it was slightly behind us blowing us up the steep grassy climb to start with. </span></div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lSnTB9LsR_8/W8XzGqho1eI/AAAAAAAAD7w/Sxpx9sLt7zoYpFDYcXCR5DZvX7bY-j3GQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_5594.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="1600" height="287" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lSnTB9LsR_8/W8XzGqho1eI/AAAAAAAAD7w/Sxpx9sLt7zoYpFDYcXCR5DZvX7bY-j3GQCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_5594.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Once at the top you could feel the full force of the wind, I had to turn my peaked Buff back-to-front, the peak was blasted down on my face and hampering my vision, I was glad when we headed down into the slightly sheltered Quiraing. </span></div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1o4TdDKhciE/W8XzipE-94I/AAAAAAAAD74/FZ1bT8KXoHoWmruSRA9HZutzhXV8xotqQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_5669.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1176" data-original-width="1600" height="293" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1o4TdDKhciE/W8XzipE-94I/AAAAAAAAD74/FZ1bT8KXoHoWmruSRA9HZutzhXV8xotqQCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_5669.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We started to see a few walkers coming towards us, then loads of walkers, yep, there was a bus trip! After we crossed the road and headed upwards we never saw another soul all day. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’m a bit of a light-weight and need my heavy winter coat and boots to make eight stone so I was a wee bit concerned about being blown off the Ridge, one reassuring thought, with being small built at least I don’t offer much resistance sideways on! Luckily the wind wasn’t gusting much, it was just a constant fight, and we stayed well away from the edge. I could see for miles, looking over to Uig, the ferry was coming in, Andy pointed out the Fairy Glen, the Ridge wound on and we followed, we went up, we were blown sideways, we went down, we went up, we were blown sideways, we went down, we went up, we were blown sideways, we went down, with the wind chill, it was pretty cold, my hood was up and although fastened tightly, it was a deafening rattle in my ears. Progress was slow and steady, the effort arduous, but boy I was loving it, we took a wee breather from the wind behind a huge boulder, I wittered on about what a wonderful day I was having, one I was going to remember with a smile forever, Pauline turned and bellowed “What?” she had her hood up too and hadn’t heard a word “Never mind!” I answered, I’m sure she was enjoying her day as much as I was. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Time was marching on, quicker than we were, we decided that if we were eating around 8.00pm we wouldn’t have time to continue the Ridge so we descended at the Storr, for a short run into Portree on the road, missing out the “Bog of Doom” as Andy called it, oh dear, what a shame, never mind, I’ll look forward to doing that another time! </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Good food, beer and company was waiting, I wasn’t too upset about missing out a few miles, although I really didn’t want this run to end, the epic surroundings taking me beyond my fatigue. The Trotternish Ridge is stunning and I look forward to doing it again. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We had a chill out, rest day after our epic Ridge run before our final day on the Skye Trail, a low level mostly on road, not much in the way of hills, celebrating finishing with lunch in the Sligachan Hotel. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Day 4 - Portree to Sligachan 13 miles </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">With the weather we had for our final day it was just as well this was the “easy” section, Pauline and I left the house walking to the Staffin Road to stretch the legs before running, the bus shelter was about a hundred yards away, we went inside it to put on our waterproof trousers, we hadn’t even started the watches yet! Through Portree we stop for a wee blether twice, it was lovely to see a couple of folk we know, then opposite the Aros Centre we turned down onto the shore, the wet stones, slippy with seaweed underfoot made it slow going, just as well we were watching our feet as the cracking views were non-existent. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Braes road was surprisingly busy with traffic, and fairly undulating which wasn’t so surprising, this is such a sheltered area that foxgloves and garden flowers were still in summer bloom, a different climate to the north west of the island. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">During our runs in the rain I’d look up to the sky and say hopefully “I think it’s brightening up!” today it was just a lie, at no point ever did the rain look like it was going off, maybe not just so torrential at times but it never promised to ease up. Once off the road and onto the rough shore path along Loch Sligachan it was either boggy or if solid underfoot, a burn, we were carefully placing our feet, a lot of water flowing from the hill now required great care, we were wading through fast flowing burns where on a previous run a few years ago from Sligachan to the Braes and back we just had a skip and a hop over steppy stones without breaking stride.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">We were a bit behind schedule, Ken, Allan and Val were in the hotel waiting for us, and phoned with concern, they were watching the waterfall and weren’t sure if we would get over it, and if necessary they would drive back round to the end of the Braes road and pick us up. I reassured them that we were fine, taking our time and we wouldn’t do anything daft, I’ll phone back when we were at the waterfall and let them know what we were doing. Once there we walked up and down to find the best place to cross, the flow was fairly strong but never went over our knees, Pauline phoned to say we were safely over and we wouldn’t be long. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;">The waterfall the last time we were here in August 2015 </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">The path disappeared and it was another bog hop to the campsite and more wading through burns until we got to the Hotel. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo from Allan through the window of the Sligachan Hotel</td></tr>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MW5tQa20QgA/W8YDAH2DJ2I/AAAAAAAAD_o/gieI9p3EyFkfTL8zerCCE8XVl_5Ypmh0wCLcBGAs/s1600/Portree%2Bto%2BSligachan.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="443" data-original-width="580" height="305" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MW5tQa20QgA/W8YDAH2DJ2I/AAAAAAAAD_o/gieI9p3EyFkfTL8zerCCE8XVl_5Ypmh0wCLcBGAs/s400/Portree%2Bto%2BSligachan.png" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Yay! The Skye Trail was complete (except for the Bog of Doom) in some challenging conditions and I’m not disappointed in the slightest that the weather wasn’t on our side, it was an epic adventure with memories I’ll cherish!</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Once inside the Sligachan Hotel we dripped off to toilets to change, now warm and dry we ordered beer and lunch, I upgrade the Cuillin Skink (same as Cullen Skink but with mountains out the window) from starter to main course portion, it was the largest and finest Cullen Skink I have ever had. On the wall was art from local artists for sale with the proceeds going to Skye Mountain Rescue, I have admired Jeremy Rossiter's work for a long time so I treated myself to his painting of Marsco, a superb momento of an epic week now hanging in my living-room. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Flaming typical, the rain had stopped after we’d had our lunch and the following day the sun was splitting the sky, at least it was a pretty drive home! A fantastic few days in great company and stunning surroundings even though we didn’t get to see some of it this time, but that just makes it all the more special when you do. Thank you Ken, Val and Allan for your company and making the logistics possible for Pauline and I do the Skye Trail over four days. </span></div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LYOI04MYPIw/W8YFH-RbCMI/AAAAAAAAEAc/T9rfH0zsZgoLjP0zL2uPdhlZvLkLyDUDwCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_6347.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="767" data-original-width="1600" height="191" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LYOI04MYPIw/W8YFH-RbCMI/AAAAAAAAEAc/T9rfH0zsZgoLjP0zL2uPdhlZvLkLyDUDwCEwYBhgL/s400/IMG_6347.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pauline wondered that after we did it would we be more sympathetic to runners during the race lingering in checkpoints? Ha! Well, if you’ve ever come into a checkpoint where I’ve marshalled you’ll know I don’t do sympathy, so if you come crying into Sligachan don’t expect a “There, there, there!” from me. Just make sure you know what you’re taking on and your ability to do it justice.</span></div>
Fiona Renniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18268067089290474811noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475346168209566942.post-67795486869911545222018-09-11T17:11:00.001+00:002018-09-12T08:40:31.348+00:00Glenmore 24 - 2018<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">This year there was going to be a few changes in support, Ken and Sue were on holiday so wouldn’t be available to support, Gillian was off galavanting on Ben Nevis doing path repair, Val would be our sole support but after Pauline saw Jonathan all rugged up and sat cosy dozing in the tent through the night last year, she said that she’s never done a twelve hour race before and would give it a go. So with Pauline going to be a part-timer doing the “sprint event” finishing at midnight, she would also do a bit of my support through the night and let Val get a break before having a wee kip herself. </span></span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-2981c83f-7fff-b6c2-7182-26d89e02abd3" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">Pauline and I arrived in the Hayfield Friday lunch time and set about getting all the race paraphernalia organised, our neighbours gave us a hand with the club tent, the ground was dry and pretty hard, one of the mallets came to an untimely end losing it’s head. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We took it in turns hammering in the stake for the club feather with bits of rubber flying off the mallet! Finally we got our wee blue sleeping tent up without any hassle, time to chill and have some pasta before the party, a Hawaiian theme for this year and the question on everyone’s mind was </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">What was Donald going to be wearing? </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He didn’t disappoint. After a few beers and a lot of laughs it was time for bed. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">With the race starting at noon on Saturday, it was a nice relaxed morning, plenty time to get ready and have two pots of porridge. “Sunshine and no midges, are we really in Glenmore?” I got a row for saying it out loud on Friday afternoon but I didn’t jinx it, the weather was still looking great. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br class="kix-line-break" /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">Val arrived and we went over our race plans, I was using last year’s sheet as my template with a few tweaks like having coffee a lap earlier through the night to pre-empt the falling asleep on my feet that happened last year. My times for this year’s Fling and West Highland Way Race were slower than last year, did that mean I was getting old and slow? (correction - slower, I’ve never had speed) Each year for the past few I have covered less distance at Glenmore, as Strava would say trending slower! But I wasn’t going to let it dull my ambition, I was still going to target the 100 miles, magic happens at Glenmore 24.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbAQjy1AzUx2V7-6TmHUCWauM54jQ7vGTpigegSLjbpu3Q3cQDZoZx5HOc9x9WBACuD-88dDDEYNswPaxzJasKRw_mcSzrhTpiAUi2ekb8R9W_CZWBbHcOH8JnYwpX13ypPHPc4VmuQ4w/s1600/IMG_4527.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1271" data-original-width="1600" height="317" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbAQjy1AzUx2V7-6TmHUCWauM54jQ7vGTpigegSLjbpu3Q3cQDZoZx5HOc9x9WBACuD-88dDDEYNswPaxzJasKRw_mcSzrhTpiAUi2ekb8R9W_CZWBbHcOH8JnYwpX13ypPHPc4VmuQ4w/s400/IMG_4527.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-F-K4hftJfdw/W5fwIdIrUfI/AAAAAAAAD24/hfgRe06GGy8aGL52wrK5doh59BGtF4RJwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_4510.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" data-original-height="623" data-original-width="1600" height="248" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-F-K4hftJfdw/W5fwIdIrUfI/AAAAAAAAD24/hfgRe06GGy8aGL52wrK5doh59BGtF4RJwCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_4510.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">Bill gave the race briefing at 11.30am and at noon we were off, yay, finally, back on that beautiful four mile loop, in 2011 I split it up into four sections,the first one ‘the lumpy bumpy mile’ round base camp, up the grassy hill and onto a narrow rough path with stones and tree roots, this year the bushes had been trimmed back a bit, the second section, ‘the long run’ a flattish wide forest track where in 2011 and 2012 I didn’t walk any of it, (plot spoiler- I didn’t walk any of it this year either) the third one was ‘uphill’ yeah, that’s what it did for around a mile where I picked points where to walk and stuck in some wee shuffles on the flatish part of the ups, which was followed by the ‘downhill’ where I took it easy on the steepest part of the descent preserving my quads, relaxing on the flatter part before the wee kick of a hill then turning left, down a few stone steps back to base camp on the Hayfield. I took my camera for the first lap, it was overcast for a short while, I thought that the heather wasn’t as stunning as usual, with the weather being so dry over the summer it looked parched and brown with not a lot of vibrant blooming flowers. No rendition of Wild Mountain Thyme to go round my head while the sun shone then! </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8AHzlvNragk/W5fva8isS_I/AAAAAAAAD2s/YJoZSGnl0XYrodSyEOdXWDoI5gCMMmKQgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_4618.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1201" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8AHzlvNragk/W5fva8isS_I/AAAAAAAAD2s/YJoZSGnl0XYrodSyEOdXWDoI5gCMMmKQgCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_4618.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444;">This year</span></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-htb4emSQQyA/W5fvC4JhmdI/AAAAAAAAD2k/2m0WkU6S9Owdnn6TXEbOvEfDelg0u4vTQCLcBGAs/s1600/2017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1135" data-original-width="1600" height="283" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-htb4emSQQyA/W5fvC4JhmdI/AAAAAAAAD2k/2m0WkU6S9Owdnn6TXEbOvEfDelg0u4vTQCLcBGAs/s400/2017.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444;">Last year</span></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">Pacing 100 miles at Glenmore is quite simple on paper, run five laps in the first four hours when you’re fresh, spritely and raring to go then once you’ve settled into your groove a nice steady lap an hour does the job. I was wearing my old faithful Timex Ironman that holds 100 laps, I was shocked that a new battery cost nearly £15, mind you, it will last at least another five years before I’ll need another battery, although I could’ve bought a new watch for less! For sentimental reasons, it was worth it, all my PB’s were done wearing it with some cherished race memories. I’ve never bothered with the faff of charging a Garmin on the hoof before, it’s not necessary on a lapped course as long as you know what lap you’re on you know how far you’ve gone. I got into the routine of shouting my number at Ada, clock the lap on my watch then dib my dobber. Val was also timing my laps and informed me that I was bang on to the minute the same as last year for the first seven laps, consistency is one of my strong points during 24 hours as long as I’m able to manage whatever challenges I have. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">Pauline and I stayed together for the first lap but I let her go after that, with her ‘only’ going half way I wasn’t going to let her pull me along. As the afternoon progressed the sun was beating down and quite hot in places, I was feeling a bit wabbit and there was salt on my face, that usually doesn’t happen to me, the last time I was this sweaty in a 24 hour race was Perth 2010 and I ended up having a very tough race, spewing my guts and struggling big time. I wasn’t going to let it happen again if I could help it, I ran easy in the heat and when I have the savoury stuff that was on my food plan I’ll ask Val to add a sprinkle of salt. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">From the second lap onwards I’d swap my water bottle and pick up from Val either an Ensure, Yazoo or a Weetabix milkshake, have a few mouthfuls as I walked round the wee lap then put the bottle in my blue coolbox I placed at the top of the Hayfield for Val to pick up and take back to the tent ready for the next time round. Since being treated for mouth cancer in 2013 my mouth has remained very sensitive restricting all my food to bland soft stuff, eating is a challenge and slow going at the best of times, even more so during a race, and with my saliva glands being fried from the chemo and radiotherapy I have a permanently dry mouth and have to carry a water bottle all the time, so a liquid diet is the only way I can manage a race these days with an addition of some custard, rice pudding, soup and an attempt at tinned macaroni cheese but on the plus side I had my final check-up in July, I’m five years cancer free. </span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">I had some custard on lap six and seven and on my ninth lap I picked up my tinned macaroni cheese with a wee sprinkle of salt, it was only a 215g size and it took my two goes walking round the Hayfield to eat only half of it, Val was concerned I wasn’t eating enough, me too, to be honest, walking round base camp didn’t give me enough time to eat it, I’ll go to rice pudding next time, it doesn’t need any chewing. I have a rule for 24 hour races. I will not stop, it’s only 24 hours! So pausing to eat was never going to happen! </span></span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></b>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">I’m not normally a counter when I’m running but I do it at Glenmore, counting my laps, checking the time, doing sums in my head working out how much of a cushion I had for making the 25 laps, doing fractions in my head requires a lot of concentration and I needed to use my fingers too but always a boost when I worked out stuff like at around 6.00pm that I’d covered nearly a third of my target distance in just over a quarter of the time. What gave me a giggle was adding up my all-time Glenmore laps, so on lap eight it also coincided with the race number I was wearing.162. How mad is that? It doesn’t matter how many times I’d been round, no two laps have been the same, the light is different every time, I was lucky enough to see a beautiful sunset reflected in Loch Morlich in 2013. As the sun was going down this year, it was a softer peach tone and when I was along the side of the loch the sun had just dropped beIow the horizon and the reflection of the sky turned the loch the colour of champagne, another beautiful image to keep safe in the photo album in my mind. It doesn’t matter how weary or sore running becomes, the surroundings lift you. </span></span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></b>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The colours of Scotland leave you young inside, there must be a place under the sun, where hearts of olden glory grow young.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">- </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Calum MacDonald / Rory MacDonald</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DPJHnvT_bR0/W5fwdO4ejUI/AAAAAAAAD3A/rF2JWWicZ8UFIIjFANqHtT58f_aXjYkcgCLcBGAs/s1600/Lorna%2BMaclean.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" data-original-height="615" data-original-width="960" height="256" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DPJHnvT_bR0/W5fwdO4ejUI/AAAAAAAAD3A/rF2JWWicZ8UFIIjFANqHtT58f_aXjYkcgCLcBGAs/s400/Lorna%2BMaclean.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444;">photo stolen from Lorna Maclean</span></td></tr>
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<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">I picked up my head-torch and iPod which just went in one ear, it’s not just the route that makes this race special it’s everyone involved. Every runner is so supportive as we go by each other and great to have a conversation when we happen to have the same pace. Jo and Iona were so bubbly every time I saw them, it was easy to see they were having a great race, pacing it to perfection. The marshals and support crews were brilliant and enthusiastically shouting encouragement every time a runner went by, that’s a tough shift to keep up for 24 hours but they did! I felt a bit rude not always saying thank you, hopefully a thumbs up or nod or a smile was enough, especially when going round the bottom of base camp with a face full of custard or a milkshake moustache trying not to slaver too much down my chin. </span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">Now dark, and cooler, I was well prepared for whatever the weather could throw at us, a choice of two rain-jackets, two pairs of waterproof trousers, several long sleeved thermals, a fleece and a down jacket plus a selection of hats and gloves, I remember the hailstones in 2014 but I’m glad I didn’t need any of it, all I added was a long-sleeved top and a peaked Buff under the head-torch. The Hayfield cooled considerably as expected but the trees on the loop held onto the warmth of day and in some spots even had the sensation of a sauna going on, I’ve never felt such a change in temperature in small areas near the loch before, the sky was clear and the stars twinkled, the moon rose, it was into its last quarter but still shone brightly, through the night I regularly kept looking up to the sky and would stagger slightly as I did, dodgy I know, but you just don’t get stars like that in Fife! </span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">Now this is sounding all hunky-dory and I was having a brilliant hoppity skippity race, well, I was, although my legs hurt and I could feel a couple of wee blisters but that’s what you expect. At around 1.00am I yawned and that triggered some dry heaving, I never threw up and eased back a bit when it happened, mostly when I went from running to walking, a great incentive to keep running then! I managed to maintain my run/walk ratio still keeping to the markers I’d picked from the start for where to run and where to walk, keeping my breathing easy and controlled, relentlessly moving forward. </span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">Pauline had finished her race at midnight and was doing my support giving Val a chance for forty winks. I asked Pauline for soup next lap, it might help settle my stomach, it was the same potato and leek I thoroughly enjoyed at Beinglas during the West Highland Way Race, I had a wee request that the lumps are mashed down to make it smooth and easy for me swallow. Harrumph! It was still fairly lumpy and I let Pauline know next time round, I was making no concession that she’d just covered 58 miles in 12 hours followed by a rub down with a wet wipe to freshen up and a quick change into warm clothes before pandering to my diva demands. Lucky for me Val was back on duty before Pauline made me wear the rest of my soup. </span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">I continued to have the dry heaves, I had some flat coke, Val suggest I try some of Pauline’s diluted ginger beer she had left, that used to be my drink of choice until my mouth got so sensitive, I should’ve kept my water and just carried the ginger beer round the lap in my hand but I made the mistake of just swapping the bottles in my bottle belt, I tried to drink as much as my mouth could handle, every in-breathe felt cooling but every out-breathe I felt like a fire-breathing dragon, as least the intensity of the burning dulled my aching legs! Boy, was I glad to get round that lap and have some lovely cool water, another incentive to keep moving! </span></span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></b>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">Looking for the dawn but still shrouded in darkness you are at your lowest ebb and working towards 100 miles is hard, I decided that next year my goal would be to reach an all-time of 200 Glenmore laps, all I would need to do would be 17, that would be nice, 68 miles over 24 hours would be a lovely day out… BUT to do that I would still have to get 25 laps today! There was no way I was letting go, during a big ultra you have to listen to your body and at the same time tell it to shut the fuck up, I’m not particularly numerate so concentrating on working out daft sums in my head helped drown out what my body was shouting at me. </span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">Eventually the birds started singing, the sky lightened, and with it my body woke up and pretend that it hasn’t missed a night’s sleep, half a pot of porridge and it’s a fresh new day. Yay, around 7.00am, my lap split picked up to equal that of twelve hours ago, “Good Morning Glenmore!” I ditched the long-sleeved top as the sun rose and brought it’s warmth. I’d perked up although I was still making faces at whatever milkshake Val and Pauline were giving me, but I behaved and had a few mouthfuls each lap, my stomach still wasn’t happy but no doubt neither was anyone else's and perfectly normal for having been running for nearly a day. </span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">I always hugged the bends on ‘the long run’ keeping to the shortest line but on my second last lap there were loud shouts ahead and a peloton of mountain bikes came haring round at speed, glad I’d kept wide, it would’ve been a bit of a bugger getting run over and resembling road-kill at this stage, I’d eased back a wee bit after my wake-up lap, no heroics were needed, I was going to make 100 miles with about half an hour to spare. Last lap, glad to get it done but a sad wee cheerio wave to all the pretty views and points I’d picked to run or walk from, “See ya next year.” </span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I shouted my number for the last time to Ada, pressed lap on my watch, dibbed my dobber, under the arch to celebrate the horn… no sound… </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Eh?... What?.... Panic! Have I miscounted? </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">Nah, you’re fine, the air-horn used to signal someone reaching the ton was knackered! </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgueMceFDwyCrHG7f8XnDI4xJUcpkJq9v2u8ooKkMacX4QoIRUrNGskvd-yr1uomvKiKNkagIZLU3LqfxenXmas1lqru2sWQYjS2FHAVV-xi7ISdzr_djGmbT0CunlEQgnAEHQaR56UEtA/s1600/IMG_4796.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgueMceFDwyCrHG7f8XnDI4xJUcpkJq9v2u8ooKkMacX4QoIRUrNGskvd-yr1uomvKiKNkagIZLU3LqfxenXmas1lqru2sWQYjS2FHAVV-xi7ISdzr_djGmbT0CunlEQgnAEHQaR56UEtA/s400/IMG_4796.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">Relief! If I’d been mistaken there was no time for another big lap, Pauline handed me my wee cup, it had beer in it, perfect! Now for fun and frolics on the Benny Hill lap, (Bill’s name for it) round the grass, up the hill, shout my number to Matt, run down the hill, round the grass, check my watch, up the hill, shout my number to Matt, run down the hill, round the grass, check my watch, this new battery is broken! Roughly five wee laps was a mile, every time up the hill it got steeper, but the support got louder, Cat handed me some pineapple shaped sunglasses, I’d never get them on under my peaked Buff, I propped them on my bonce, Pauline gave me some Carnegie Harrier coloured garlands, they floated over my shoulder, Lois handed me my tent peg with my race number to poke into the ground at noon, it was getting close… push up the hill, belt down, sprint round the grass, push up the hill, belt down, sprint… Yaaaay! We can stop! </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-v4VOhdLjYDY/W5fxfY0uEyI/AAAAAAAAD3U/OHhjZcC2GycTf9gGVNm7VLFj0ldKcDZqQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_4812.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1591" data-original-width="1600" height="397" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-v4VOhdLjYDY/W5fxfY0uEyI/AAAAAAAAD3U/OHhjZcC2GycTf9gGVNm7VLFj0ldKcDZqQCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_4812.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">There is no race finish anywhere that can match this! I even managed to stay on my feet, just had to rest my elbows on my knees for a few moments to catch my breath, no need to collapse on the grass this year. </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TEkrKaU9vn0/W5fxwWhAOwI/AAAAAAAAD3c/JcGPgQSFKHQz8Sb8C6X0rnRhQeDx4LnTgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_4856.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1192" data-original-width="1600" height="297" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TEkrKaU9vn0/W5fxwWhAOwI/AAAAAAAAD3c/JcGPgQSFKHQz8Sb8C6X0rnRhQeDx4LnTgCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_4856.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">Celebratory hugs and a stroll back to the tent, it was lovely to sit down for the first time in 24 hours (going to the toilet doesn’t count) I was in that post race phase of not sure what to do with myself, I was roasting, I put on a fresh t-shirt, I was chilly, where’s a thermal, can I have a cup of tea please, which took me ages to drink. Allan had brought his bike up on the bus to Aviemore this morning and cycled out, it was great to have him here to help dismantle our home for the weekend because I just sat there, still having an occasional boak. </span></span></div>
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<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">We took our chairs over for the prize-giving, I was so pleased for Jo and Iona, pacing it perfectly in their first 24 hour race for their podium places, the conditions this year were one of the best we’ve had, which I’m sure help 38 out of 120 runners made it to the 100 miles. I even squeezed in about half a mile further than last year, finishing with 102.61 miles and this I’m only doing 17 laps next year is just rubbish 4.00am talk, as long as I’m alive, hale and hearty I’ll be going for the 25! </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRN2SBNV1M55qStI4tC58KTvY_6XKDyZbBDGCbt1RPZpPaH6h-aCi6yrkzz8Jqux9W2dMwC5dTtz0MU19vfoYjl8UIZwYbJJl3gRQSnTebUZJQhDvTAcXxMFaEbRfDQgZ1LxDaUuJPbOA/s1600/Allan+Macaulay.jpg3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRN2SBNV1M55qStI4tC58KTvY_6XKDyZbBDGCbt1RPZpPaH6h-aCi6yrkzz8Jqux9W2dMwC5dTtz0MU19vfoYjl8UIZwYbJJl3gRQSnTebUZJQhDvTAcXxMFaEbRfDQgZ1LxDaUuJPbOA/s400/Allan+Macaulay.jpg3.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444;">Team Carnegie - photo from Allan Macaulay</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fD-FN9TK4Tc/W5fyTyYye9I/AAAAAAAAD3w/4FgAstCfPgY9onhWUDCu1ynZc_8xMRbdwCLcBGAs/s1600/Allan%2BMacaulay.jpg1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fD-FN9TK4Tc/W5fyTyYye9I/AAAAAAAAD3w/4FgAstCfPgY9onhWUDCu1ynZc_8xMRbdwCLcBGAs/s400/Allan%2BMacaulay.jpg1.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444;">The 100 Club - photo Allan Macaulay</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FmIqzY3WblQ/W5fynP2RwdI/AAAAAAAAD34/H622bKmN7-gUhzpZxFGzUiqDHE2QwgpxgCLcBGAs/s1600/Dobber%2Bresults.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" data-original-height="528" data-original-width="420" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FmIqzY3WblQ/W5fynP2RwdI/AAAAAAAAD34/H622bKmN7-gUhzpZxFGzUiqDHE2QwgpxgCLcBGAs/s400/Dobber%2Bresults.jpg" width="317" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444;">My dobber splits </span></td></tr>
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<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">Glenmore 24 means so much to me, the cherished memories and support I’ve had over the years, not just in 2013, have grown richer every year, this is no ordinary four mile loop, as beautiful as it is, the effort put in from team BaM, their volunteers and runners make it what it is.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">A magical event whether you’re an elite athlete or new to ultra, if you are willing to test yourself over 12 or 24 hours you will find the best support for whatever goal you want to set yourself, you’ll never know what you can do until you try, magic definitely happens at Glenmore. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wUkYtQ-MAgE/W5fy7Ro-v6I/AAAAAAAAD4E/lI7Et6TzadUJqMQJaH1M8Oz7u0kS6muHwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_4859.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" data-original-height="857" data-original-width="1600" height="342" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wUkYtQ-MAgE/W5fy7Ro-v6I/AAAAAAAAD4E/lI7Et6TzadUJqMQJaH1M8Oz7u0kS6muHwCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_4859.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">My Glenmore stats.</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">2011 - 108 miles, stopping at 23.46.49 hours, (no wee laps in the first year)</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">2012 - 109.01 miles (also 1st Lady), </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">2013 - 25.45 miles in a 6 hours special just for me after my cancer treatment, </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">2014 - 89.56 miles </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">2015 - 107.35 miles</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">2016 - 103.26 miles</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">2017 - 102.04 miles</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">2018 - 102.61 miles</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">183 big laps, quite a few wee laps and a total of 746.28 miles </span></span></div>
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Fiona Renniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18268067089290474811noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475346168209566942.post-59147586440978370772018-07-13T12:12:00.000+00:002018-07-13T12:12:31.295+00:00West Highland Way Race 2018<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">My running has gone well from January, when I start to look towards the race, I haven’t run to a training plan in years but have enjoyed using a few races for my long runs, the Falkirk 8 hour Ultra, Loch Katrine Marathon, Keilder 50km, the Highland Fling and six days after the Fling I covered over 50 miles with a weekend of no sleep supporting Alistair Macpherson doing his 10 Island Challenge on the Western Isles starting in Vattersay and finishing on Skye. Although there was no running involved in being part of the race team for the Skye Trail Ultra at the end of May, a 5.30am alarm on the Friday morning and no sleep until Sunday night coinciding with my first weekend without caffeine was excellent sleep deprivation training. </span></span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-71b29ec0-935a-d8c8-dc20-2919fe784bfb" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">I dropped my gear off with Ken on Thursday night so he could pack the car at his leisure. I spent Friday just quietly pottering and snoozing. Ken, Sue and Pauline picked me up at 9.30pm and we made our way to Milngavie, driving over the Kincardine Bridge the sky was gorgeous and promised good weather over the weekend. </span></span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">At registration, between a million hugs I picked up my wristband, goodies and got weighed. Back at the car I decided the timing chip was going to bug me, a big flat square thing on an elastic wrist band around the size of a coaster! Well, maybe a slight exaggeration but on my scrawny wrist if felt that big! Luckily it had a hole in it and I had a cord to thread through it so I wore it round my neck tucked in my vest. </span></span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">For the first time ever in the history of Sean’s safety briefing he said that there wasn’t going to be weather! Just before the start I had a wee panic, Wilson and I were going to run together to begin with but I’d lost him, I jumped up onto a bench scanning everyone moving forward into position, “Ah, there you are!” Relief, we moved into the throng, so many runners and so much excitement, I love this moment, there are no guarantees of reaching Fort William but we all have the privilege of starting no matter how the adventure will unfold. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;"> </span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">Before the 1.00am start there was a minutes silence for Don Ritchie, I smiled cherishing a memory of spending an evening in a Dublin pub with him after an Anglo-Celtic Plate. The hooter sounded, I let out a “WOOHOO!” hugged Wilson and we were off. “Wilson! Get back here!” He was on a mission but I wasn’t going to let his emotion jeopordise a sensible start. Up through Milngavie High Street lined with support, high fives, camera flashes, cheers and shouts feels so mad at 1.00am in the morning and I giggle along it! So different for my first race in 2003, eerily quiet with just around seventy runners and the “crowd” was a bemused half dozen of merry locals heading home from a night out. </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OjEQQdc2VEQ/W0iMgpC-WCI/AAAAAAAADws/gWlvvp7uAPErF7bVCmt4HXi--o5rU-IhgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0715.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1091" data-original-width="1600" height="272" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OjEQQdc2VEQ/W0iMgpC-WCI/AAAAAAAADws/gWlvvp7uAPErF7bVCmt4HXi--o5rU-IhgCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_0715.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">Into Mugdock, head torch on and watch where I put my feet, a bit of subdued chatter as we attempt to settle in, a perfect night, the moon was out, a clear night and never completely dark. Loved to see the bats again along the road from Gartness, I feel it’s a good omen. Wilson and I parted company when I stopped for a pee just before the big gate in Garadhban, he was moving strongly and settled. I was watching for the sun rising as I climbed Conic but with light cloud the sun didn’t split the sky, it just gently got brighter. </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEiWWYrgS-W_9jmk8GfA0aEsgBy0e_NdQNfRYrnaIoM2bVJp4L5AZFpWbPBu2RUOiUUapuZSQkqKAoGMcZVqQ0esCcWA5g7EmQ1SOjBkP1F4Phytj_4qxkli3aavbHGPjgHQuHjbTlp_Y/s1600/IMG_2548.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1134" data-original-width="1600" height="282" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEiWWYrgS-W_9jmk8GfA0aEsgBy0e_NdQNfRYrnaIoM2bVJp4L5AZFpWbPBu2RUOiUUapuZSQkqKAoGMcZVqQ0esCcWA5g7EmQ1SOjBkP1F4Phytj_4qxkli3aavbHGPjgHQuHjbTlp_Y/s400/IMG_2548.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">On the wooden steps heading down to Balmaha I phoned my crew to get the kettle on. A hug for big Davie once I’ve dibbed my dobber at the checkpoint Pauline led me to where they were parked, not without a bit of palaver for them, when they first arrived it was full and they couldn’t get parked, so they drove off towards Rowardennan to find a safe place to wait until the car park emptied a bit, it meant they didn’t get as long to rest before I arrived and even worse, they didn’t want to risk getting their bacon rolls from the Oak Tree until after I’d gone through! At least they didn’t have to wait too long for their breakfast since I don’t faff at checkpoints, I walked through with my pot of porridge, Pauline carrying my mug of tea until I was ready for it.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lhAi066Vovw/W0iNqUKvCJI/AAAAAAAADw8/AgyG9693k-Uoj4265ysaisI1LuSZVtIOACLcBGAs/s1600/Sue.jpg4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lhAi066Vovw/W0iNqUKvCJI/AAAAAAAADw8/AgyG9693k-Uoj4265ysaisI1LuSZVtIOACLcBGAs/s400/Sue.jpg4.jpg" width="300" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444;">photo from Sue Walker</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TTwGcMd4-cU/W0iNKzMVGtI/AAAAAAAADw0/QLTJ5CFPRGwMmuiRelV5peYaE28pudShgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2582.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1219" data-original-width="1600" height="303" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TTwGcMd4-cU/W0iNKzMVGtI/AAAAAAAADw0/QLTJ5CFPRGwMmuiRelV5peYaE28pudShgCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2582.JPG" width="400" /></a></span></div>
<span style="color: #444444;"> I always love the section up to Rowardennan, listening out for cuckoos in the woods, along wee bits of beach and up the short steep climbs in the woods, this year I had Norma and Stuart for company along a fair bit of it. </span><br />
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">At Rowardennan, my feet were feeling fine but I had a pre-emptive sock change, Pauline and Sue are faster than Formula One with wet wipes, Body Glide and fresh socks as I sat and ate a rice pudding, </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-j2JTZ9pnrrQ/W0iOmsy3lPI/AAAAAAAADxQ/NejJffbqPF8ZLTSRo0TIMOGNo1WlXIogQCLcBGAs/s1600/Sue.jpg7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-j2JTZ9pnrrQ/W0iOmsy3lPI/AAAAAAAADxQ/NejJffbqPF8ZLTSRo0TIMOGNo1WlXIogQCLcBGAs/s400/Sue.jpg7.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444;">photo from Sue Walker</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">I changed my 200ml water bottle to a 300ml one, since I won’t see my crew again until Beinglas, picked up my sunglasses, a wee skoosh of Skin-so-soft, the midges were out but not the worst I’ve seen, and I was on my way. I love the low road, it’s a proper enchanted wood, one of the marker posts is so ancient it’s covered in lichen and there’s only a suggestion of a white thistle which leads you up towards the narrow path with a hint of the technical section to warm you up for the scrambly bits after Inversaid, I just ease myself along, gently on the swoops down to the edge of the loch, steady on the climbs, carefully over tree roots and boulders, not stressing the pace just going with the flow, the path was really dry and easy to skip along (in my mind not for real) I remember how different it was in 2012 where Sue, Jonathan and I stayed together to see each other safely over the torrents of water hurtling down off the hill. At Inversnaid I pick up my drop-bag, I stood briefly but only long enough to down a chocolate Yazoo, so I could bin the empty bottle, I didn’t have much room to carry it after I stashed away a custard and a wee bottle of flat coke into the front pocket of my bag. </span></span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">Apart from seeing a couple of runners just after leaving Inversnaid I was on my own for the technical section, I revelled in it being all mine, taking my own easy pace, no pressure to keep up with someone or feel I had to move over if I was holding anyone back. I’m not really greedy or anti-social but it was a pleasure having it all to myself. </span></span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">When the ladder first came into my view I could see a runner sitting at the top, as I approached it he was still there, I climbed and asked if he was okay, he answered he was fine, but I wasn’t just accepting his polite reply and cringed at myself as I asked “Are you sure?” like I was his Mum. He did convince me he was just having a wee breather and I was glad to see him catch me up a few minutes later. </span></span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">I always have a wee cheer to myself when I hit the flat grassy bit and ease my running legs back into action after their breather on the clambering. I looked forward to pausing at Dario’s post, and that thought pulls me on, the path is fairly runnable with some steady climbs and I catch up with Dave, it’s the first time I’ve see him during the race, I was having a really good spell, Dave was moving fine but a wee bit slower so I went by but not without a wee cheeky parting shot. “Keep up, I’ve got a 15 year old Glenfiddich!” Dave wasn’t far behind me reaching Dario’s post and my wee hip-flask was passed around, glad to see around half a dozen take a moment in such a beautiful spot, even if they didn’t know Dario. </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-B_t4Sa_LTNs/W0iO2CwdF7I/AAAAAAAADxU/C-L1gZk1EG0i7UPJMdtLGLoc75X47xszgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2681.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1213" data-original-width="1600" height="302" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-B_t4Sa_LTNs/W0iO2CwdF7I/AAAAAAAADxU/C-L1gZk1EG0i7UPJMdtLGLoc75X47xszgCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2681.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ugG9RK07fyM/W0iPBOGnRXI/AAAAAAAADxc/CV7VcleFB08PFmbl51XGLx1xPp7mJgotACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2689.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1190" data-original-width="1600" height="296" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ugG9RK07fyM/W0iPBOGnRXI/AAAAAAAADxc/CV7VcleFB08PFmbl51XGLx1xPp7mJgotACLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2689.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">It isn’t far to the checkpoint at Beinglas from Dario’s post, it’s level with the pylons but they seem to take a while before they get closer, down through the trees, wary of roots, one thing I’ve noticed this year, the foxgloves are in abundance and blooming all over. </span></span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">Just as I reached Beinglas Farm Ellen shouts “You are looking fresh!” I laughed, 42 miles in I’ll take that, whether it’s true or not. “You’re just having a great day out!” she continues, I certainly was, smiling from ear to ear even, how could I not be, the sun was out and I running my favourite race in the company of my family. I dibbed my dobber in the timing doofer and carried on walking out the checkpoint with a big mug of leek and potato soup, Pauline came with me to take the mug when I finished and give me updates on how everyone else was doing. What stars my crew are, they even pandered to my diva demand of mashing the lumps to make it easier for me to eat. I fair enjoyed the savoury after the milkshakes, rice pudding and custards. It was just after midday, the warm sun on my back, the open path towards Derrydarroch in front, and with a happy tummy full of Mrs Baxter’s finest I wasn’t going to push it, just keep a comfortable easy pace tootling along while the sun was at its highest and my soup digested. </span></span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">I giggled at the health and safety with the bubble wrap on the entrance to the Crack yer heid tunnel, it’s not the on the way in it gets you, it’s the way out you’ve to watch, but lucky for me I’ve always managed not to dunt my bonce! </span></span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Climbing the steep path after going through the tunnel under the A82, all of a sudden I felt quite weary, my legs didn’t feel the strength in them that I thought they should, hands on thighs I made my way up, after such a good spell, it was only natural to have a dip and mid-race wobble, </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’m not quite halfway yet, I cannae be so tired! </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Not to worry, I’ll soon be pulling it in, and the swoops and climbs of the rollercoaster will take my mind off how I felt. I was not amused having to wait ages to cross the road over to Auchtertyre, there were some guys on bikes waiting on the other side to cross too, one shouted over “At least you’re getting a rest!” I was polite and smiled but I HATE standing still, I may never go fast but I never stop either! I was looking daggers at the cars and muttering under my breath. </span></span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">Finally I crossed over and keep it going round to the checkpoint, I was weighed and dropped 0.8 of a kilo, that’s fine I didn’t expect to change much. My crew had my macaroni cheese ready and a beer shandy made with Belhaven Best, far better than any sports drink. Pauline walked with me with my grub and beer but I still felt a bit full from my soup and probably the heat so I just had half and handed it back, it isn’t far to Tyndrum I’ll finish it there. </span></span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">Tyndrum is where I feel if I reach there then I’ve cracked it, it’s over half way and Sue and Gillian were joining me. I’m happy with my own company but it’s a boost to get a blether and I’ll have pals all the way to the finish from here.</span></span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">It was the back of 6.00pm when I arrived in Bridge of Orchy, Sue had scampered off with a wee change from my Diva Demands sheet, on my plan I was just going to have paracetamol at Kinlochleven whether I needed it or not but I had a wee niggle in the top of my right foot, it had been hurting since Drymen (12 miles) and was now jarring every step, so along with my first coffee in a month a couple of paracetamol would help take the edge off. As I was having a sock change I decided to put my thick tights on over my Skins and another long-sleeved top, it was cooling down, Rannoch Moor is wide open and can be breezy, (last year the wind took me off my feet) I’d rather not wait until I was cold before faffing with clothes, it also meant I could sit down for my rice pudding as my crew hauled my breeks up my legs and do my socks, (Yep, I do Diva to the max) </span></span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">Pauline was coming with me to Glencoe, it’s been ages since she’d done Rannoch Moor or seen Murdo and Peter on Jelly Baby Hill, we were blethering for ages before Murdo said, “Off you go, you’ve a race to run!” </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_2l9bctNQ8w/W0iPXBGqJwI/AAAAAAAADxo/9h2cXbb7kRcgdwqdgwNU5nV3QnZhiZVkgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2718.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1137" data-original-width="1600" height="283" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_2l9bctNQ8w/W0iPXBGqJwI/AAAAAAAADxo/9h2cXbb7kRcgdwqdgwNU5nV3QnZhiZVkgCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2718.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Rannoch Moor gently climbs for quite a bit, we just plodded on, run a bit, walk a bit, I was wearying but only to be expected for being nearly seventy miles in, “I’m fed up climbing can I go down now please? Where is this Fleming Cairn? Bugger! It’s a wee dot in the distance! At least I can see it now!” I was speaking in jest, but as the saying goes. Never a truer word… Yay, finally level with the cairn, I could head downwards to Glencoe. Kingshouse used to be the checkpoint, I don’t really mind the wee detour to the big car-park at the Glencoe ski centre, it’s perfect for a checkpoint it’s just the half-arsed excuse of a path-not a path-just a pile of rubble leading you towards the Ski Centre that irritates me, that and the steep slope of the car park, I’m not climbing anything I don’t have to, I dib my dobber turn on my heels and headed down the road, Ken is ready to go with me with my chicken soup, I giggled a wee bit to myself when told a sprint was needed to bring me my Yazoo milkshake and blue fleece, </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I must be moving well then!</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> I thought. </span></span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">Heading towards Altnafeadh I took my time with my soup, it was in a thermal mug so no need to rush it, in previous years I’ve shovelled in pasta or mashed tatties a bit too quickly then felt queasy. Looking up to the top of the Devil’s Staircase it was shrouded in a wee bit of mist, I’ll put on my jacket as well as my fleece (wearing the blue fleece over the Devil’s Staircase has been one of my traditions since 2007) It must’ve been the back of 11.00pm heading up and Sean was right, there was no weather, I was roasting, the jacket came off and I pushed my sleeves up! At the top Ken and I needed our head torches, he also had a hand torch, it’s not easy to find the best line over the rough path in the dark and an extra torch helps. </span></span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">We made steady progress down into Kinlochleven, I was hugged and weighed by Julie, I remained exactly the same weight as Auchtertyre, I decided to deviate from the plan and change into road shoes for a bit of cushioning on Lairig Mor, my feet were feeling the dry hard path, the left one especially, I was trying not to favour my sore right one but I think I was letting the left do all the work, I sat down for a pot of porridge and let Pauline and Sue do my feet, I asked if there was a blister on the ball of my left foot, it felt quite hot, Pauline dismissed my query “Pfft, there’s nothing there!” and flossed between my toes with a wet wipe. Squirm-shudder-squeal. I hate when she does that, she knows it and does it some more! (She’s a good fibber too, admitting after the race that there was a blister and didn’t mind making me feel like a drama queen!) Ok then, I’ll just straighten my crown and leave with my entourage! </span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">Pauline, Sue and Gillian and I climbed the long slog out of Kinlochleven, my road shoes felt a bit snug to start with but my feet soon settled down, at the top we pause to look back and see torches at the top on the other side start to head down, it’s a tough section down to and out of Kinlochleven, I wished them well. </span></span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">We moved on and could see the lights of Jeff’s wee oasis in the distance, by the time we got there is was getting light for the second time in the race, Jeff had quite a selection of fizzy juice and sweeties but then he produced a miniature of an 18 year old Glenfiddich, well, it would be rude not to, he poured us a teeny wee dram each, just a celebratory sip, enough to raise a smile as well as spirits. (No pun intended)</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpeekfWHrBoAdBnNzo-_8LCLir2WxNgCfT3iDQv9RUQ6qBA9n7U9383wrIQrrtXfEyV_eVkUkqaM1867A9ypt7DruWm3Wbigo1RksYdaAfjlVzvRdF-3gBTPxhYiGmMQC4ODbrSM7jSjs/s1600/Jeff+Smith.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpeekfWHrBoAdBnNzo-_8LCLir2WxNgCfT3iDQv9RUQ6qBA9n7U9383wrIQrrtXfEyV_eVkUkqaM1867A9ypt7DruWm3Wbigo1RksYdaAfjlVzvRdF-3gBTPxhYiGmMQC4ODbrSM7jSjs/s400/Jeff+Smith.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444;">photo from Jeff Smith</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">Lairig Mor is never easy, I might not be covering it at a great rate of knots but running in celebration of being alive and healthy surpasses any fatigue, pain or discomfort I have and with great company we pull it in, Lundavra takes ages to come into view, my stomach is not so happy but I manage some Cup-a-Soup as I go through, Pauline asked why I didn’t stop at the photo booth, “Eh? What photo booth? I’m so sorry guys how did I miss that!” My eyes must have just been focussed on the path and putting one foot in front of the other, my legs are moving well and Fort William gets closer every step. </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">I laughed when Val appeared “Where have you been? I’ve had to come all the way up the fire road, down that steep path and all the way up this hill!” Brilliant! Nobody needs a pal that asks how you’re doing ninety miles in. Sorry Val, I’ll try and go a bit quicker next time! </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">Down the long road into Braveheart car park the girls are behind me and don’t see the emotion crumple my face, this is my fourteenth West Highland Way and it has never stopped being special, Ken is waiting in the car park until we’re through. </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pnVWebEG3ns/W0iLxmchVtI/AAAAAAAADwk/fWakO_X4YeorbB5pU63gzNtPSPFb9GY6gCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0743.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1038" data-original-width="1600" height="258" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pnVWebEG3ns/W0iLxmchVtI/AAAAAAAADwk/fWakO_X4YeorbB5pU63gzNtPSPFb9GY6gCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_0743.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">The final mile, my body is ready to stop, my heart and soul are soaring, an overwhelming combination to fuel me to the Leisure Centre. Into the car park, the race has evolved and the finish has changed, it's now a big inflatable arch, Adrian standing by holding up the timing doofer, but during my chemo and radiotherapy in 2013 the mental image of slapping my hands on Leisure Centre helped keep my head up, and for me, I can not register my finish until I have touched the door, up the steps and symbolically place my hands on the glass. Adrian has followed me up the steps, I hauled the timing chip from my vest and finally registered my finish in 31 hours, 20 odd minutes and something or other seconds. </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JGxq55hTQvs/W0iKvE81f9I/AAAAAAAADwE/Gc9bqKPFhskaOMIOXJ0WcIoA0BLOO5WsQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0751.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1123" data-original-width="1600" height="280" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JGxq55hTQvs/W0iKvE81f9I/AAAAAAAADwE/Gc9bqKPFhskaOMIOXJ0WcIoA0BLOO5WsQCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_0751.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KaOLBQakk94/W0iLAaKaAyI/AAAAAAAADwQ/tDFLEBd6weMi4K2ejvT-a02Vs0PC2EmewCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0757.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1328" data-original-width="1463" height="362" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KaOLBQakk94/W0iLAaKaAyI/AAAAAAAADwQ/tDFLEBd6weMi4K2ejvT-a02Vs0PC2EmewCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_0757.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QjRDjf7yIT4/W0iLJMoEJeI/AAAAAAAADwY/DlbwxFDfJMYnBv_qcF_wzmZ46TlAiqaHACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0763.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1082" data-original-width="1600" height="270" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QjRDjf7yIT4/W0iLJMoEJeI/AAAAAAAADwY/DlbwxFDfJMYnBv_qcF_wzmZ46TlAiqaHACLcBGAs/s400/IMG_0763.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">I love that running is so adaptable to each and everyone of us whether your goal is to push your body to destruction in pursuit of a best time and position possible or in memory and celebration of a loved one or just having the health to revel in the beauty of our surroundings. The West Highland Way Race is the most perfect and tough challenge you can choose to do all of these. The selfless support of the race family from Ian and race committee, marshals, support crews and checkpoint venues make magic happen, the prize giving is the pinnacle of all the hard work and those that go home with a goblet are privileged to have the chance to realise dreams. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">Just saying thank you doesn’t cover it, but I hope you get the gist of my gratitude from this photo.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EW-CfrbTUEk/W0iKRed4thI/AAAAAAAADv8/AJm4ip5R6zUn2p1b-1EdeFP_gv6RI2k0ACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0769.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1515" data-original-width="1569" height="385" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EW-CfrbTUEk/W0iKRed4thI/AAAAAAAADv8/AJm4ip5R6zUn2p1b-1EdeFP_gv6RI2k0ACLcBGAs/s400/IMG_0769.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">Ok. I'm showing off now but this lot with the support of my West Highland Way family has helped shape my character and give me strength to face stuff harder than any race, I'm so proud to be a part of this very special family.</span></span></div>
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Fiona Renniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18268067089290474811noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475346168209566942.post-67124578924150179392018-05-18T22:19:00.000+00:002018-05-18T22:19:37.432+00:00Ally K's 10 Island Challenge<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">When Ally asked if I’d like to support him in another big running challenge, this time fundraising for Macmillan, I didn’t hesitate in saying yes. The date was set for Friday 4th May, and it saw Pauline and I leave Dunfermline after work Wednesday evening, spending the night with Donna in Inverness before heading to Portree to meet the rest of the support team at 12.00 noon Thursday, we loaded our stuff into the van and then travelled up to Uig for the ferry to Lochmaddy, it seemed a very long drive before we got another ferry to Barra and drive to Vatersay, Ally was going to be running back! A tough and long challenge with the logistics of having to catch ferries as well as having to cope with running 120 miles and whatever the weather threw at him as well. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ally had a good team behind him, I was confident we’d do whatever was needed to get him back to Portree. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Douglas - the grown-up, responsible adult in charge, keeping us all safe with the ability to spot and prevent accidents or mishaps from happening.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Graham - Massage Therapist/Sports Nutritionist in charge of keeping Ally upright, breathing, fuelled and moving forward.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Hugh - Project Manager, in charge of media, photography, filming and all things geekery.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Iain - Driver of the pick-up, leading the way and helping Hugh with the filming being promoted to best boy, dolly grip or whatever you call the poor sod that holds up the big fluffy microphone until their arms ache.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Andy, Pauline and myself - the support runners, taking turns pacing Ally, in charge of nothing much but hopefully our banter would keep him going. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">There were loads of folk in the Vatersay Hall to greet Ally when we arrived, he gave a wee talk about the run and presented medals to children for their achievements in recent races. We were generously given the use of the Hall for the night and after the meeting finished we were shown where the light switch was and told just to close the door on the way out when we left in the morning. We scattered ourselves around finding a cosy wee corner to lay out camping mattresses and sleeping bags, I slept as well as could be expected the night before a big adventure, Hugh on the other hand hadn’t pick such a great spot to sleep, where he laid out his sleeping bag had a motion sensitive light switch so every time he turn over through the night the light came on! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">6.30am Friday morning, we were off! It was dull, misty and a little drizzly but not cold, and we were to have a tail wind, not the worst weather for running, we decided that Andy, Pauline and myself would run the first section of around 13 miles from Vatersay to the ferry point at Ardmhor, Barra with Ally, it’s easy to set off too quickly at the start and heading off mob handed it would help keep the early pace nice and steady and lovely for a few of Barra’s runners to get up early and join us for the first section. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E_bIdnThYlQ/Wv890dK8YwI/AAAAAAAADqQ/FTPkuG6yx8MtG-v97BEG1BgsK2_-YkvTgCLcBGAs/s1600/Hugh%2B-%2Blocal%2Brunning%2Bclub%2Bin%2BBarra.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E_bIdnThYlQ/Wv890dK8YwI/AAAAAAAADqQ/FTPkuG6yx8MtG-v97BEG1BgsK2_-YkvTgCLcBGAs/s400/Hugh%2B-%2Blocal%2Brunning%2Bclub%2Bin%2BBarra.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo from Ally K's 10 Island Challenge</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">On the ferry the team took the chance for a coffee before arriving in Eriskay where we were met by more runners ready to join Ally. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">The plan for Andy, Pauline and myself was to run in shifts of around two hours each, swapping over when Ally took a short break to refuel. The team settled into our specific tasks, Douglas driving the white van going on ahead with a “caution runners” fluorescent sign on the front and hazards flashing warning oncoming traffic and stopping every five or six miles to get a brew on or anything else the team needed with either myself or Pauline for company when not running, Iain driving the pick-up staying just ahead of Ally with Hugh hanging out the back, camera in hand. Graham driving the black van with all of Ally’s supplies following behind monitoring how he was moving, preparing Ally’s food and dealing with any of Ally’s problems or niggles with either Andy or Pauline sitting beside him when they weren’t running.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We settled into the routine as we steady made progress through the ten islands, </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Vatersay, Barra, Eriskay, South Uist, Benbecula, Grimsay, North Uist, Berneray, Harris and Skye. This was my first visit to the Western Isles and although I wasn’t in tourist mode and would have loved to see more, I still got to catch a glimpse of the wide open rugged beauty of the islands and beautiful beaches,</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> even though the weather wasn’t the best, I loved the colour of the sea, a warm turquoise colour of old copper, quite different to the cold slate grey on a dreich day at home on the Fife coast. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">As we worked our way up the islands it was lovely to see the community come out and support Ally, a highlight and a great boost for him, the children from Daliburgh Primary School left their classrooms to line the pavement and high five Ally and cheer him on as he went by. The Dark Island Hotel wouldn’t take any money from us when we stopped for a quick bite, cars would stop and donate money for the charity. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">My next run with Ally of nearly twelve miles was from South Uist to Benbecula, we’d just shared a fish supper, it was lovely and tasty, I wondered if it would give me grief but it was fine, the pace was nice and steady, mixing up walking with running, Ally had been on the go for nearly ten hours now, he was still moving well but was starting to feel wee bits of tightness creeping in. Ian came over and introduced himself, he lives locally and he’d been following the tracker to find us and waited on the road for us to appear and came along for a few miles, it was great for Ally to get a new face to chat to. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sskCCFnF_KY/Wv9C5EXAuNI/AAAAAAAADrs/Yi-B_F2PMSM8GpxbtLFZIQXvAea_M19BQCLcBGAs/s1600/Hugh.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="960" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sskCCFnF_KY/Wv9C5EXAuNI/AAAAAAAADrs/Yi-B_F2PMSM8GpxbtLFZIQXvAea_M19BQCLcBGAs/s400/Hugh.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo from Ally K's 10 Island Challenge </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">I wasn’t quite sure of place names or where I was but Douglas kept me right driving over causeways, “That’s another island done!” we were soon counting them down and with recording my runs on Strava I’m glad I can go back and see the sections I covered with Ally and put into perspective the length of the challenge and the islands. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GaVlh6Pv_4U/Wv9DTOfXTdI/AAAAAAAADr8/StEf4hsvIgIHef-Y25BFb4q59qI5ScaFACLcBGAs/s1600/Vatersay%2Band%2BBarra.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="398" data-original-width="551" height="288" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GaVlh6Pv_4U/Wv9DTOfXTdI/AAAAAAAADr8/StEf4hsvIgIHef-Y25BFb4q59qI5ScaFACLcBGAs/s400/Vatersay%2Band%2BBarra.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vatersay and Barra</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hPdFa-vPpZ4/Wv9DkA18isI/AAAAAAAADsE/Ck_fUk337SYkGkLru-VBNgod8l9LN2wuwCLcBGAs/s1600/South%2BUist%2Bto%2BBenbecula.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="453" data-original-width="530" height="341" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hPdFa-vPpZ4/Wv9DkA18isI/AAAAAAAADsE/Ck_fUk337SYkGkLru-VBNgod8l9LN2wuwCLcBGAs/s400/South%2BUist%2Bto%2BBenbecula.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">South Uist to Benbecula</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh055XNINekMJlDMSbakrH3uQmSyjYKltBynouzRFa3LXY9DHug8vXgkddGQsBgAMQJ_wU9esm63QPNjTLTtvTfaFM0Nx-BXZ4wIvJVHykctK7XKkZJH_ikZDIzJ5HEXA-ypf5d1IKjhas/s1600/Lochmaddy+to+Berneray.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="369" data-original-width="479" height="307" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh055XNINekMJlDMSbakrH3uQmSyjYKltBynouzRFa3LXY9DHug8vXgkddGQsBgAMQJ_wU9esm63QPNjTLTtvTfaFM0Nx-BXZ4wIvJVHykctK7XKkZJH_ikZDIzJ5HEXA-ypf5d1IKjhas/s400/Lochmaddy+to+Berneray.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lochmaddy to Berneray</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S6mihoacyts/Wv9FFeXFA4I/AAAAAAAADsY/5YzYgVoD88UKg24jIWzFpwaapFaqG0urQCLcBGAs/s1600/Uig%2Bto%2BPortree.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="446" data-original-width="560" height="317" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S6mihoacyts/Wv9FFeXFA4I/AAAAAAAADsY/5YzYgVoD88UKg24jIWzFpwaapFaqG0urQCLcBGAs/s400/Uig%2Bto%2BPortree.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Uig to Portree</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Early evening I was with Douglas in the van and we pulled into the carpark of a church, Donna had managed to get a lift from the ferry down to join us, when the rest of the team pulled in, Iain had a big tray of delicious hot macaroni cheese and box of sweets someone had given to them, the minister came out to talk to us and offered us the use of the facilities. It was so wonderful to have everyone we met so wholeheartedly support the challenge.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">From late evening I suggested Andy, Pauline and I overlap our shifts so he had two of us with him from now on, hopefully the chat of two might help. Keeping going through the night when your body craves sleep is always the toughest part, in the dark, blowing a hoolie, rain coming and going and nothing to look at except the tail-lights of the pick-up and the circle of light from a head-torch. It was going to be a long night. (A tough shift for the drivers too!) I started my next run at 1.00am at Lochmaddy going to Berneray, after taking a break in the middle Ally seemed to lose momentum and struggled to get moving again, Andy and I kept pulling away, every time I looked over my shoulder Ally had dropped back a lot further than I’d expected. Donna came out the van and joined us, Ally had been using poles at times to help take the strain from his injured knee but now he was just holding them out in front and in my mind, they were of no use whatsoever. Time for a bit of tough love, “Ally, you’re not moving efficiently, those poles aren’t helping, you’re just holding them, get rid of them for now, swing your arms, your legs will follow!” Donna took the poles and was laughing trying to coordinate her arms and legs with them. There wasn’t any real urgency to reach Berneray, the ferry to Leverburgh wasn’t until 7.15am but the sooner we got there the soon we could all have a wee rest and you can call me selfish if you like but after the break, even though I was wearing plenty layers and full body waterproofs, I was freezing cold, and I needed to pee, no way was I baring my bahooky at the side of the road with no shelter in this weather! I wasn’t for dawdling! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Roddy, Ally’s friend living in Berneray welcomed us into his home around 4.30am, Katie had a huge pot of homemade soup and oatcakes ready for us and big mugs of tea. An accordion appeared and probably for the first and last time in my life would I sit in a kitchen at nearly 5.00am in the morning supping scotch broth while being entertained by a man who’s been on the hoof for nearly twenty-four hours! </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BAyKKTGnVtg/Wv9FezBsliI/AAAAAAAADsg/LK5OPSFcVIgieGhrjc6HzGVqKGJIlx0IQCLcBGAs/s1600/Hugh.jpg3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="694" data-original-width="960" height="288" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BAyKKTGnVtg/Wv9FezBsliI/AAAAAAAADsg/LK5OPSFcVIgieGhrjc6HzGVqKGJIlx0IQCLcBGAs/s400/Hugh.jpg3.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo from ally K's 10 Island Challenge </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">After our soup some of the guys went back to the vans to rest, I sat down in the living-room, the telly was quietly wittering away, I closed my eyes briefly and when I opened them I’d melted down the sofa like an old church candle. Was it time to go for the ferry already? Roddy and Katie waved away our thanks, “We were getting up for work anyway!” Their generosity was wonderful.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">The ferry was busy, there was an athletics meeting and local clubs were competing, it was great to see so many kids would be participating and I smiled to see they wanted to be photographed with our local hero.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9vxWfAjKYUc/Wv9F-qhKSUI/AAAAAAAADss/XzCdbayoW0I1FJLaS5BIZm-VCvMNEz3BwCLcBGAs/s1600/South%2BEriskay%2Band%2BVatersay%2BAC.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9vxWfAjKYUc/Wv9F-qhKSUI/AAAAAAAADss/XzCdbayoW0I1FJLaS5BIZm-VCvMNEz3BwCLcBGAs/s400/South%2BEriskay%2Band%2BVatersay%2BAC.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photos of North Uist AC and South Eriskay and Vatersay AC from Ally K's 10 Island Challenge </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pauline was with Ally on the slog up to Tarbert, that was one long monster hill, Douglas had pulled in at the top, I decided I would jog down to meet them and ask what they needed. I could see that the hill had been hard work and tough going, Ally looked tired but, of course, I didn’t show concern. I just asked. “You’re nearly at the top, are you wanting a coffee when you get there?” He was hurting and Pauline asked if he’d had any painkillers at all. He replied he hadn’t. Rightio, I legged it back to the van with an order for a coffee and a couple of paracetamol.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">After they’d gone by Douglas and I went on into Tarbert and dropped a treadmill off at the Calmac office before getting the vehicles in the queue to board the final ferry. Andy got the job to carry it up the gangplank. There were two reasons for Ally to use the treadmill, it would raise awareness and funds for Macmillan and just keeping the legs moving helped prevent them seizing solid which at this late stage in the game is a possibility, I think he covered five miles just keeping ticking over! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">I got myself ready to run again, Andy and I were going all the way from Uig into Portree, Becki and Ryan had come up and were doing a relay with their son Orrin as the baton all the way in, Kay joined us for the run out of Uig. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pipers were playing to greet Ally off the boat, there were hugs and handshakes waiting for him . Back on home soil, just the glory leg to do, the sun was shining, no more boats to catch, nothing could stop him now… woooof! He was off, flipping hell, I cannae keep up, this might be embarrassing, I had to work hard not to drop off the pace he was setting! Once up the hill, he settled down and there was no point fighting the strong head wind we were facing, there was warmth in the sun and I had to take off two of the long sleeved tops I’d put on, I had prepared for a bit of a slog! Hugh had given me a hand-held camera to try and get some footage on the move, I’m just used to my own wee point, click and delete hundreds with a few odd lucky snaps, hopefully I managed to get something he could use. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Running into the wind was a hard battle, Ryan and I were pretty rubbish at being a windbreak, Andy was a bit better but Ally was still having to work against it. Lucky really that the strongest headwind we faced was on the final section. Pauline rejoined us and took charge of the pace, mixing walking with the running, working the efforts depending on the hills. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">The clouds rolled in and with them rain, it was coming at us so hard I thought it might have had hail-stones in it too, it was stinging the side of my face. My rain jacket was in the van with Douglas and he’d gone on ahead, I was only wearing a light wind-proof, so it wasn’t long until I was soaked through and shivering. (I should’ve known better not to part with my rain jacket running with Ally on Skye but the sun had been shining when we left Uig!) There was a lot of support out on the road for Ally, Becki helped Ally on with his Macmillan vest as Portree came closer. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Despite the weather, Ally was moving well, he was ahead of schedule, Pauline was still a </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">sergeant major with the pace but Ally was in great spirits and clear-minded, he knew how he wanted to finish and we went with his plan. Douglas was parked at the Cattle pens for the last stop, brilliant, I dived in the van and hauled off my sopping wet tops, grabbed a thick thermal and pulled it over my head, “Pauline help!” My hands were so cold and wet I couldn’t get them in the sleeves, she manhandled me into my dry top, I managed a fleece and my jacket myself, what a difference, within minutes I didn’t feel hypothermic. I jumped out the van, in my haste I nearly smashed my face on the wing mirror, lucky dodge around it and I was back in position as outrider. The vehicles had gone on into the Square, the plan was for Ally to finish on his own, Pauline was going to tail him from a distance just for peace of mind, so at the Co-op Andy and I pushed on and made our way into the Square I smiled when I saw the Police van sitting with blue lights ready to escort Ally into the finish, the Pipe Band were playing and the crowd were waiting. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ally ran into the Square with his Lion Rampant flying above his head. My hands stung from clapping, my throat sore from shouting and the lump of emotion and pride. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo from Ally K's 10 Island Challenge</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">I never doubted Ally would succeed. Heading into this challenge he wasn’t in the best physical shape, under-trained nursing injury and the recent upheaval of moving the family home from Portree to Inverness was bound to curtail focus and training, minor details for someone who runs from the heart and soul in memory of loved ones. My inspiration. </span><br />
<a href="https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/10islandchallenge">https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/10islandchallenge</a>Fiona Renniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18268067089290474811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475346168209566942.post-8070658274683249062018-05-13T18:01:00.000+00:002018-05-13T18:17:52.553+00:00Smokies 10 <div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">I’ve neglected my blog the past wee while but I fair enjoyed writing my race tale for the Fling so I thought I’ll try and write a bit more often. So here’s a wee blogette from this mornings Smokies 10.</span></span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-00852b86-5aa5-72c9-fb60-55bdd5c2d172" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">I don’t run races for times just for the pleasure these days except for Smokies 10 and with this going to be my 25th running of it, I was aiming for a top five in my finishing times, I first ran it in 1992, I’ve missed a couple of years, I was pregnant in 1995 and I missed it the year it was postponed with the foot and mouth outbreak. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">So January and February, I worked hard at speed work, all was going to plan for the race at the beginning of March then it snowed! The race was cancelled and when a new date was announced I had a wee panic hoping it didn’t clash with anything else, a quick check, relief, it didn’t...but it was a fortnight after the Fling and a week after covering another 50 miles doing Ally K’s 10 Island Challenge support with a night with no sleep thrown in for good measure (I started writing an account of that last night so will get that posted soon) Oh well, no top five time then but I’ll see how I feel and run accordingly, this week I’ve felt really tired and my run on Thursday was as spritely as a sack o’ tatties on legs! </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">After yesterday’s weather being gorgeous I was hoping for more of the same but I knew the forecast, another soggy one then! Oh well, I suppose I’m used to it. Just before the start, there was a heavy shower and we stayed in the Leisure Centre until the last minute before heading out to the start. Smokies 10 is a ladies only race and it’s lovely to run without the blokes, I had a wee giggle to myself at an overheard conversation as we were waiting to start. “I’m wearing a waterproof mascara today.” The reply “Me too, and a little eyeliner as well.” I just thought, </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I like to wear gloves, they’re the best for wiping the snotters and slavers off! </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">Luckily the rain eased and stopped just as we started, I kept a good steady, let’s see how this goes effort, mile markers were coming in, a bit of a novelty for me, most of my races don’t have them, I didn’t look at my watch, I’ve been running with my body for a lot longer than a Garmin, I was letting my perception of effort be my guide, I was working hard regardless of the pace, at least it wasn’t as windy as it has been in previous races heading up the hills and eventually on the way back my gloves came off and my sleeves pushed up, I was breathing deep and controlled, it’s quite different and not easier trying to run a short (for me) race at a quicker pace than my comfortable ultra shuffle but at least you don’t have to hang on for so long, I was pushing as hard as I could at the end and finished with 1.26.42 chip time and 3rd auld burd over 55, I was 8 minutes outside my Smokies PB set in 2013 but I’ll claim a top ten finish in my list, still really pleased with my performance, age and time irrelevant! Just glad I’m still here to give it welly! </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">Arbroath Footers, thank you all for another grand day out, a great medal, t-shirt and wine in the goody bag plus the usual quality post race buffet, see you all again next year, thank you! </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">P.S. Stopped at the fish shop at the harbour on the way home, Smokies for tea along with my wine, perfect! </span></span></div>
Fiona Renniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18268067089290474811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475346168209566942.post-30502317070922077222018-05-11T18:19:00.001+00:002018-05-11T21:26:29.307+00:00Highland Fling 2018<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A 2.30 am alarm, it must be Fling Day! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Lesley arrived and parked her car at mine, Gillian had picked up Pauline then Lesley and I, we set off at 3.45am, the beauty of cadging a lift with a race marshal is she was allowed to park at the station, Gillian’s tasks included taking the timing mats to Drymen, first-aider and working at the finish, she even managed to fit in a wee run too, thoroughly enjoying her long day before chauffeuring us home. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This was my 7th Fling and my 20th race of starting under the tunnel in Milngavie, the other 13 I’ve finished in Fort William, it will never be same old, same old, it will always be exciting and special, hugs and smiles all round. Pauline and I started in the party pen, the third wave of a staggered start set off 2 minutes apart. The weather looked perfect, a wee bit chilly to start but it was 6.00am, so it was bound to warm up.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Lovely to see the couple playing for us again and they have a new member in the band! </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Conic hill looked far away but lovely and clear, the views were going to be stunning from the top, along the path of a thousand gates past Glengoyne distillery a group of girls running together came past, one shouted “Coming through!” I stifled a guffaw and thought someone hasn’t read the race briefing! </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Jane was pointing us up to the kit check in the field at Drymen, a quick hug before getting out my phone and foil blanket for inspection. I was right about the view from Conic, we stopped for a few photos before gently heading down, I don’t bomb it, I like to save my legs for later. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A big hug with Big Davie and Donna at Balmaha before picking up my drop-bag, I don’t faff at checkpoints but I had to pause briefly at the Fling bin to polish off my milkshake and ditch the bottle, Gavin and Gordon were marshaling the road crossing, I laughed out loud at Gavin’s shout of encouragement, Pauline and I were still together, “Hey you pair o’ bawbags!” Hugs all round, it’s a term of endearment! Robin was sitting in foldy chair, all comfy pointing the way up to Craigie Fort, he stood up for a hug, gotta love a Fling checkpoint!</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again, I love the section up to Rowardennan through the woods, along the shore, the ups, downs, twists and turns. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBZPvHK6z3hmnyxFeXGYLvyDQiKnRimLd_KyoVMm0TaCuz3luKOUAoW_5Z-YMAK3RyzcYAKg8uYgVpo7KdNKHiMbObAgBdDsftg6Fv3mIoggb0wL3jmq6Lrq9Zk1-qjs1Ral3rBmwKRm0/s1600/IMG_0699.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1223" data-original-width="1600" height="305" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBZPvHK6z3hmnyxFeXGYLvyDQiKnRimLd_KyoVMm0TaCuz3luKOUAoW_5Z-YMAK3RyzcYAKg8uYgVpo7KdNKHiMbObAgBdDsftg6Fv3mIoggb0wL3jmq6Lrq9Zk1-qjs1Ral3rBmwKRm0/s400/IMG_0699.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Again no faffing with my drop-bag but pausing at the bin to ditch my empty milkshake bottle before heading up the high road. It’s a long plod up but soon narrows and becomes fun, Pauline and I were in the middle of a group of around half a dozen cruising along with Katy in front, at some of the trickier bits the lady behind Katy came to a complete halt, although an experience runner, living in Nottingham she doesn’t get this kind of terrain to train on, Katy took her hand and guided her down with the guy behind supporting too, behind me the bloke shouted “It’s ok, take your time.” I loved how no-one was stressing the pace and if anyone was chasing a time they were polite enough not to show impatience and wise enough to realise a wee breather in the middle of a race is no bad thing, they’d be able to push on stronger at the finish. </span></div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_y5oT20E6EI/WvW6dihiEdI/AAAAAAAADow/pfOXr3j_SBUHQTn7n9eBTFu1Hi98Rl0_ACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0875.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1108" data-original-width="1600" height="276" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_y5oT20E6EI/WvW6dihiEdI/AAAAAAAADow/pfOXr3j_SBUHQTn7n9eBTFu1Hi98Rl0_ACLcBGAs/s400/IMG_0875.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">At Inversnaid Pauline and I were in and out without breaking stride, I wasn’t pausing to knock back a milkshake here, I was taking with me a bottle of coke and a squeezy pouch of custard, I love the loch side, enjoying the concentration needed, forgetting how many miles you’ve covered already, stretching the legs out over big steps and hanging on to trees and boulders, giving your running legs a rest, I felt I could keep this up forever. Once you’ve reached the flat grassy bit that signals the end of the technical section, it's time to encourage your legs back into running, there’s now the gradual climb up to Doune Bothy and up to Dario’s post, I always smile at the thought of spending a moment with an old friend and it pulls me up the climbs. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Then nice and easy into Beinglas, it’s mostly downhill, care is still needed, for the unwary, tree roots could grab your toes and send you rolling down the side of the hill. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I don’t want to show favouritism to any Fling huggers but I’ve had more Fling finish hugs from Julie than anyone else and they are special, this year she was marshalling Beinglas and her hug here brought the emotion of how special finishing this race is, it didn't matter I still had another 13-ish miles to go. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pauline and I were still together, there seemed to be less runners around us now as we kept a fine steady pace to Derrydarroch, under the crack yer heid tunnel and along Coo Poo Alley, it was a bit pooy but not the worst I’ve seen it. Lovely to see Katie, Graham and Gavin with their oasis decked out with flags before the rollercoaster. Through the big deer fence and up that wee beast of a climb, I could hear music, what a boost, for the first time ever I didn’t groan going up, thank you ladies! </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">On the rollercoaster I was jealous of Libby’s lovely long legs, with nice easy loping strides, she seemed to me like a relaxed strolling greyhound compared to Pauline and I like Yorkshire Terriers, legs going nineteen to the dozen, after a bit of discussion we decided Libby has a lot more leg to hurt, ok, it evens out a bit then, my legs were hurting, I was glad there was less of them! </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The weather had been pretty perfect, warm sunshine, a cool breeze and only an occasional spit of rain that never came to anything, I even pushed my long sleeves up past my elbows. Now just the flattish slog through Auchtertyre, Pauline has been resting on her laurels since doing her 100th ultra at Glen Ogle last year and hasn’t done much running, just the two club night and whatever we’ve done at the weekend but you cannae hide class, after Auchtertyre, she could smell the finish and started pushing it a bit, I was hanging on breathing pretty hard, eventually with around two miles to go I shouted “You can go on or slow down, I’m not finishing like a slavering idiot!” She huffed that there was no point going on now and slowed down, we hadn’t planned to run together, it just happened naturally. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br class="kix-line-break" /></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br class="kix-line-break" /></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Finally, I could hear the piper, I let Pauline drag me in hanging onto her pace, left turn onto the red carpet, soak up the applause, high five all the hands held over the barrier, “Whoa!”, I must have shouted it out loud, Pauline turned round with a what now? look on her face, my squeezy Carnation Milk had fallen out one of my pockets, she paused while I turned, went back and picked it up. Right, back on track, milk the applause, high five everyone, but I’d picked up a bit of momentum catching up with Pauline...Will I?... Won’t I?... Ha, ha, I went for it! I pipped Pauline over the line! I don’t think I’ll ever be allowed to get away with that again when we next run together. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo - Stuart Macfarlane</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Medals, hugs, goody bags and hoots of laughter when folk heard how we finished plus another Julie hug, she was now at the finish. Magic! </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My bag was brought to me, beer was placed in my hand, I was shown where to get changed, once I was in warm clothes I was given a baked tattie, the Fling post race care is second to none. You can keep your big city marathons at this time of year, no other big race could match the magic of the first 53 miles of the West Highland Way with Johnny Fling and his magnificent team with their hard work, love, care and support throughout. Thank you all from the bottom of my heart. Can we do it all again next year. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My favourite photo from the day just says it all. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo from Charles Brister </td></tr>
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Fiona Renniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18268067089290474811noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475346168209566942.post-85455438253978163862017-09-15T18:23:00.000+00:002017-09-15T19:58:21.512+00:00Glenmore 24 - 2017<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pauline and I were well organised, the car was packed Thursday night so we could have a leisurely drive up on Friday arriving early afternoon with plenty time to get the club tent up, the wee tent for sleeping and chill out before the pre-race party. This year’s theme being the eighties, I didn’t need much effort for finding a costume, just a rummage in the wardrobe, a t-shirt I wore to a Thin Lizzy gig in 1980 and a jacket I bought from Graftons in 1982, but I’m afraid my hair-do was delivered by Amazon.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo from Old Dunfermline (The corner of the New Row and the High Street where the Kingsgate and M&S are now)</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I first encountered 24 hour racing doing Pauline’s support at her first in 2003, and I’ve supported and run a few myself since, and I can safely say that no other race has such a fun filled, relaxing pre-race evening. My face hurt from laughing, mainly at a West Highland Way Race support crew confession, luckily not from my crew! A few folk thought I was drinking hot chocolate, excuse me, I’m a proper afleet, that was Belhaven Black in my tin mug! </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">With staying in Hayfield Pauline and I could have a lazy morning, we took down the wee tent, no sleeping for us during the race, except Pauline (the slacker) put the seat back in the car and had a nap during the wee hours, her race plan wasn’t a do or die mission especially with a whinging Achilles so as long as she clocked an ultra her master plan to make Glen Ogle 33 her 100th Ultra will be on track. Ken and Val, our expert support had arrived, Jonathan too, he was doing the 12 hour also we had adopted Patricia again, she ran a marvelous first 24 race last year and was aiming for the 100 miles this time. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">There was barely a cloud in the sky and the forecast wasn’t for changing, Bill gave a warning during the briefing that if it remains clear the temperature would drop significantly during the night, I selfishly smiled to myself, sounds like perfect conditions to me. On the forest trails you’re shaded from the sun and the trees hold their warmth through the night, it’s the support in base camp that will bake through the day and freeze through the night. Another thought that made me smile, if it stays clear and if the stars shine as brightly as in 2011 it’s going to be a wonderful race. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">12.00 noon we’re off with the 12 hour runners and the relay leading the charge. I took about five laps (20 miles) to settle into my groove which is about right for me in a big race, but I slipping straight into the routine of where I walk and where I run from the start, in 2011 I split the four mile loop up into four sections of roughly a mile each. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The lumpy bumpy mile - out of base camp down through a narrow stony path with high foliage brushing your shoulders, right turn onto a winding heather edged bouldery path, left into enclosed trees, round the muddy puddle and mind that wee stump just off centre of the path. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The long run - a wide flat runnable track where I’d check my posture, relax and run the whole way (well, I did in 2011 and 2012, since 2013 I’ve sneaked in the odd wee walk) </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The uphill - yeah, that’s what it mostly did for around a mile, I just picked small not so steep sections to stick in a wee shuffle. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The downhill - taking it gently preserving my quads, with a wee bonus that the surface of it has improved over the last couple of years, it used to be very rutted, then up a short steep hill, down a few steps and back into Hayfield. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’d placed a wee blue cool box at the top of the loop in the Hayfield to drop whatever half eaten custard pot or half drunk milkshake into after walking round from our tent near the start of the loop, I had a little something every lap and tried to say what I’d I’d like next time round, I don’t waste time standing and eating and with dropping it into the box it meant Ken or Val didn’t need to hoof it up to the end of the field every lap to take it from me especially with looking after other runners, they could just bring it back to our tent ready for me to pick up again whenever it suited them. I think between myself, Pauline, Patricia and Jonathan we were spaced out nicely most of the time except once I came round Val shouted ,”Err, you weren’t meant to come round so soon after Pauline!” Ha ha, not sure if I had a quicker lap or if Pauline had slowed a bit on that one, we were together a few times but always ran our own pace. Ken had my camera and took photos of the start and then a few laps in he took it up to the top of base camp to get a photo as I came up the wee hill, “Ah, that’s handy, I’ll take it round a lap!” </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">During the afternoon I spent around half a lap with Ray, we were reminiscing about races and old runners no longer with us, Kenny Shaw was a legend from the Two Bridges to name just one. It was still fairly warm, (my long sleeves were still pushed up) so I was happy to go a wee bit easier than my own pace, during a race of this length I don’t like to break sweat in the first quarter, I was saving myself for when it cooled down, if you’re too hot you’re going too fast! </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">At around tea time I requested my pasta next lap and I was looking forward to it all the way round. Ken handed me my thermal mug… “Oh, what’s this?” </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Your pasta!” Ken replied, hmmm, yes, well, I suppose it was, but I was disappointed, it wasn’t the pasta I envisioned, the gently warmed tin of nice, soft, creamy macaroni cheese but the packet of Mugshot I had in the food bag for emergency rations which must have just had the hot water added. Al dente! Snap ma wallies mair like! I spat out the offending brittle shards and drank the “soup”. But no Diva strop, it was my fault for not being specific, “Could I have the other pasta next lap please!” My bottom lip maybe stuck a little. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I was on “The Long Run” when the sun was sinking into the loch, shimmering down the water, a beam of golden light sparkling the length of the Loch Morlich, I was on my own so it was ok to sing out loud Runrig’s Hearts of Olden Glory, my memories of the sunset during my special 6 hour run in 2013 reminding me there was nowhere else I’d rather be, the privilege of health to be where I was and to revel in being around forty odd miles in and still feeling strong. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The sun had gone, I had the pool of light from my headtorch to follow, my iPod in one ear so I could still chat and the stars and the moon above, </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo from Andrew Paterson</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">I was singing away to my eight hour playlist then “Aw Naw!” my iPod died after only a couple of hours, I wouldn’t use it for any other race but some lively tunes through the night do help keep me sprightly but not to worry, I smiled remembering the only other time my iPod gave up the ghost, it was during the first night of a 48hr race on a 400 metre track! I’m sure I’ll cope! Ken managed to give it a wee charge and I squeezed another couple of hours out of it.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I quite like the night time, I know some runners like to focus on counting, I’m not normally a counter during a race but at Glenmore I do, I don’t wear a Garmin, it’s not necessary, I know how far I’ve gone by how many laps I’ve done, clocking them on my trusty old Timex Ironman doing little sums in my head. On completing my 17th lap this year adding it to all my G24 races and my 6 hour special it was also my 150th lap covering 600 miles! It seemed absurd to have covered so many miles on just a 4 mile loop but a testament of how gorgeous this course is and the people involved with the race and it certainly gave me a smile and a boost at around 3.30am. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">During the wee hours there had been a bit of drama, Val was left doing support on her own, Ken had gone off to help, the wind had picked up and was swirling round the Hayfield like a tornado, nine gazebos were killed and a small tent broke free and birled down the field, it must’ve been terrifying for the 12 hour runner that was sleeping inside! Jonny managed to have a bit of a kip looking all cosied up wrapped in blankets sitting in a chair in the tent, well, maybe not sleeping as such with the howling wind and the way the tent was walloping about but at least he was resting! </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">During a 24 hour race everyone usually has a bit of a dip at some point and after having such a happy, smiley 17th lap I was due a wee crash and laps 18 and 19 were my two slowest laps. It was between 4.am and dawn and I suppose only to be expected, I was struggling with dry heaves and nodding off on my feet but I knew when the sky lightened I’d pick up. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">If you’re targeting the ton pacing the 100 miles at Glenmore is quite easy on paper, you don’t need heroics just a nice even plod, at the start you’re fresh so no need to push, do the first five laps within four hours roughly between 45/50 mins a lap then as long as you manage a lap an hour you’re guaranteed… but this is running for 24 hours there’s no such thing as guarantees no matter experience or if training has gone well, during the race there is perfect opportunity to fall over, puke or have a muscle go ping and that is more likely to be guaranteed. Until Ada gives you the horn you can’t take it for granted that it will happen! </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Sure enough, I smiled when the sun tinged the loch the colour of a dusky rose, my pace picked up and I was back on track. During the night I had layered up but now as the sun was rising the layers were coming off, I was wary of placing my feet, last year I fell on my 24th lap, luckily no damage was done then but it was in the forefront of my mind that I was close to my goal but I could still ruin it by being a clumsy clops. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The camaraderie at Glenmore is second to none, anyone going by me always say a few words of encouragement or acknowledgement, and if I’d had the energy I would’ve slapped every runner that past shouting “I’m ONLY doing the relay!” Guys, that is no easy option, run hard for four miles then sit about waiting on your team mates doing the same then run like the clappers again for four miles and keep it up for 24 hours, I honestly think I would find that harder than keeping an even shuffle going for the duration. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">With doing the wee sums in my head I was going to be ok for the 25 laps without having to knock my pan in and even have a wee cushion if I did do something dopey like catch my toe on fresh air and smash my face in! I’ve never been fast but as long as I have no problems I’m consistant, my last three laps were all 56 minutes. Ada was ready with her horn! Wooohooo! A hug from Ally then I dibbed my dobber and recorded my 100 miles! </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I timed it pretty perfectly, I had 23 minutes left for some fun on the wee lap, measured at 362 metres on grass with a wee bugger of a hill, actually it’s a massive bugger of hill in the last hour! So with hands on thighs I’d stomp up it, shout my number to Donald and Bill then let rip down the hill, at the club we’ve been working on downhill technique as well as up, so I was well practiced on giving it mega welly, l pushed hard on down, kept the momentum going along the straight, pumping my arms round the bend, then hands on thighs for another stomp up the hill and repeat for as many times as I could in the final minutes, the beauty of a 24 hour race is you know exactly when you’re going to stop and can push to the very last second squeezing out every yard possible no need for that mantra commonly used at races of a measured distance. “Where the f*cks the finish?” </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The support from everyone lining the perimeter of the lap is fantastic! Cowbells, cheering and your name being shouted out, you can’t do anything other than Gie it Laldy! (It’s the BaM rules!) </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IbKA8txfj2Y/WbwTMmbsvXI/AAAAAAAADko/TOLbgwXIRcw4sVOOjJMn8Pecea4driYHACLcBGAs/s1600/Cat%2BAdams.jpg3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="606" data-original-width="540" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IbKA8txfj2Y/WbwTMmbsvXI/AAAAAAAADko/TOLbgwXIRcw4sVOOjJMn8Pecea4driYHACLcBGAs/s400/Cat%2BAdams.jpg3.jpg" width="356" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo from Glenmore 24</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Everyone now running on the wee laps, some back in costume, and David Ross, you are a star! Maybe not eighties but I’d give you a prize for the most stylish finish in a 24 hour race! </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnRCcxsIcOBgIJqmt7GC-LC06v3gk2J7zCsU3LXaH9A2nKpltXYfFXX6sjP9lIueOnDElDnRsnqaPQ57qMwTyt8ZHmlj9lnhnSqoMmfEc9_QTivIcFK6mKWV0wfnUQzDJpYErxAR4DLTw/s1600/Matt+Gemmell.jpg4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="960" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnRCcxsIcOBgIJqmt7GC-LC06v3gk2J7zCsU3LXaH9A2nKpltXYfFXX6sjP9lIueOnDElDnRsnqaPQ57qMwTyt8ZHmlj9lnhnSqoMmfEc9_QTivIcFK6mKWV0wfnUQzDJpYErxAR4DLTw/s400/Matt+Gemmell.jpg4.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo from Matt Gemmell</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Everyone was on the wee laps except Patricia, when I was heading out for my last lap she was just about to go up the wee hill to finish her 24th lap, time was tight but I didn’t doubt she would head out for another lap, she was determined and looked strong. The clock was ticking down, every time I was at the top of the hill I was watching for her coming in…. Yaaaaaaay! Ada had her horn ready, mission accomplished,100 miles done with five minute to spare! </span></div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xgAoO-cTtLc/WbwUWm4C-zI/AAAAAAAADk4/l2m39laBn2A8u6aGkO3akSV0NckMI3TdgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_7513.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1284" data-original-width="1255" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xgAoO-cTtLc/WbwUWm4C-zI/AAAAAAAADk4/l2m39laBn2A8u6aGkO3akSV0NckMI3TdgCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_7513.JPG" width="390" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">What a boost to see her, I tried to catch her up to congratulate her but she was still motoring until the final second adding another half mile. I managed to push 9 laps and finish with 102.04 miles, collapsing into the grass, my chest heaving and sweat stinging my eyes. 4th female 15th overall from 86 runners, 19 of us made it to the 100 miles. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Now the hard bit, how do I sum up how special this race is, I’m struggling so just going to cop out with a wee copy and paste from my 2015 report </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: purple;">In 2011 I finished my Glenmore 24 blog post with this.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: purple;">Put the Glenmore 24 in your diaries, it is going to grow to be an event equal to the WHW. Folk that know me know I won’t say that lightly. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: purple;">Well, I didn’t have to be Brahan Seer to predict that! The work that goes into putting on the race is akin the big dod of iceberg under the water, race day is the tip and as long as BaM and all their helpers are willing to give up their time to pander to divas living their dreams I am grateful, I thank you all for letting me realise my goals. Hopefully for years to come I will still manage to run, I may have completed over 100 laps, I still have not had enough, magic happens at Glenmore.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Year after year my memories grow rich with the love and camaraderie that happens in such a beautiful setting, I have now completed 158 laps and I’m still greedy for more with a little luck I hope I can add a few more. Magic happens at Glenmore. </span></div>
<br />Fiona Renniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18268067089290474811noreply@blogger.com2