A Fun Runners Ultra Tales

I think I’m winning!

2011-12-23T09:26:00.001Z

Around eighteen months ago Mum was diagnosed with terminal cancer; she just got on with it, doing what she could for as long as she could, going passed her “use by” date of April with strength, beauty and dignity. The past couple of months she developed a few problems and the pain from the tumours in the bones of her spine were restricting her movement but she was determined to stay independent and at home. I bought her some zebra striped purple fluffy dice for her zimmer, she cut a dash through to the kitchen with flare.

After a fall on Tuesday 6^th her pain was immense, by Friday afternoon I think the medication was nearing the correct dose to take the edge off. I smiled at her comment after I helped her get comfy. “I think I’m winning!”

She passed away peaceful at home two days later. She never gave up; it was just time to rest.

Yes Mum you did win and when I feel I’m having a tough time you’ll be with me I’ll smile and say “I think I’m winning”

There’s no such thing as bad weather...

2011-11-29T14:22:00.002Z

... just a bad attitude!

Last week Mel suggested going for run on the WHW, but come Thursday she still had a bit of lurgy so was sensible and called off, a shame since it was her idea in the first place. The plan was Rannoch Moor, Pauline, Morna and I would still go although the forecast predicted lots of weather and after a late pitch inspection via the Kingshouse webcam on Saturday, it looked wet and the only snow was a wee sprinkling on the top of the hills. So by 10.30am Sunday we were sitting in the car, parked beside Blackrock Cottage doing contortions, we weren’t getting out to put our rain jackets and rucksacks on while the hailstones bounced off the car.

I was wearing a couple of layers plus the rain jacket on my top half, fingerless gloves with fleece gloves over the top, a peaked Buff topped with a woolly hat but just one pair of tights, so I thought I’d wear the waterproof breeks I’d recently modified, they were an old pair of Pete’s I’d chopped off just below the knee so they take up very little room in the bottom of my backpack and they are easy slipped on with no faffing with my shoes. A brilliant idea but not mine, Pauline’s been whacking bits of her breeks for ages,

(Devil's Staircase, WHW race 2009)
her Michael Jacksons are legendary and so is the ribbing she gets when wearing them. After the abuse I’ve given her about her breeks over the years I wasn’t going to be let off lightly. I denied having Michael Jacksons, mine are Stanley Matthews.

A quick photie then we headed up the hill with the wind blowing us up, over the top and past Peter Flemings monument, the Moor was like a patchwork quilt with all the different colours of autumn and winter as dark clouds came and went, distant hills, and the ones nearby disappeared in the rain and hail then minutes later their snow dusted tops sparkled brightly in the sunshine. Morna and Pauline pulled away, even more so when I stopped to take photos, but I’m quite happy tootling along at my own pace, I don’t feel I have to keep up. They were occasionally in sight and gave a wave from time to time, the plan was to turn back after 1½ hours I wouldn’t go as far as they did but that was ok, I’m quite happy to sacrifice distance to squelch about looking for a good camera angle, it doesn’t matter how many times I’ve ran along Rannoch Moor, whatever the season, no two days are ever the same and if I can catch a glimpse on camera it’s worth the half mile or so less running than the rest of the group.

I got to Forest Lodge at around 1½ hours, there was no sign of Pauline and Morna, I think they got round to the bridge near the Inveroran Hotel. I wasn’t fussed for traipsing up the tarmac until I met them on the way back so I went up the back of the car park to get a bit of height for a photo of Loch Tulla. Pauline and Morna appeared, I pointed where I was heading and stomped up the hill, Pauline followed me, Morna stayed near the car park reading the bumf on the info board. What a reward for the bit wee effort! One of the best rainbows I’ve ever seen.

I gave Pauline the car key as they would get back before me and we headed back, I stuck in wee walks on the steepest bits on the way back, (it was the WHW after all no harm practicing WHW pace) I don’t think I took as many photos in the way back (more photos) but I still kept looking around and behind me so as I didn’t miss a view. At the big boulder just before the final climb back to the top I always stop for a last look and a cheerio ‘til next time. Then I headed round and down, straight into the wind and rain/hail, here was where the wind was strongest, throughout the day it occasionally took me slightly off my chosen line, but I was brought to a standstill running DOWN hill! Pauline and Morna had just gotten themselves changed and comfy in the car, opening their flasks as I got back. I flung the car door open disturbing their cosy ensconce. “Well, that puts colour in your cheeks!”

I think the saying is more commonly known as - There is no such thing as bad weather just bad clothing. Whether I was wearing bad clothing or not is merely a matter of opinion, I’ve never been much of a fashionista and I wasn’t cold and besides there definitly nothing bad about today... Pauline wasn’t wearing her Michael Jacksons; she tends to save them for races. *Sings Michael Jackson* Oooww! They’re Bad!

Glen Ogle 33 – Spiders and Diamonds

2011-11-08T16:46:00.000Z

I wasn’t surprised that there was a big entry for this race after the brilliant job that Mike and Bill, with all their helpers, did at Glenmore 24. But because there was a bigger field of runners than originally expected the start was altered and the route was a wee bit shorter, whether it was 33 or 31-ish miles I was looking forward to running on new ground, I didn’t pay much attention to the route map, it was going to be well marked and I wanted a surprise, I knew there were a few hills as well as the route 7 cycle path. For ages when I’ve been driving along the A85 and looking over to the viaduct, I’d often thought it would be a lovely place for a run.
On Friday I gathered my gear together and loaded my backpack, there were checkpoints to leave drop bags but I decided not to bother with them and just carry all my juice and munchies, I wasn’t planning to race it, I didn’t feel fit enough or prepared for a race, I was just going for a nice steady run. Sue had said the same so the plan was for us to run together with Pauline and Robin. On Friday evening Sue sent a text “Kilts or is that not taking it seriously enough?” Brilliant idea and I replied “Yeah lets do kilts”

Ken and Sue had picked up Pauline and then me just before 6.00am and in just over an hour we were in Strathyre. Brrrrrr! I wondered if I was wearing enough layers, I was hoping it would warm as the sun rose. I smiled when Lucy, wearing just a single long sleeved top and skimpy knickers, asked wouldn’t we be too warm? Nah, some of us aren’t built with the ability to run fast enough to generate heat! Wearing a kilt wasn’t such a frivolous idea either, with it being so cold it kept the glutes warm and when I stopped for a pee there was no big expanse of bare bahooky hanging out in the freezing air!

It wasn’t long until we were across the road and up the wee hill to the start; there were loads of weel-kent faces and a fair few new ones doing their first ultra. There was a first in it for me too, I had gone all geeky-fied and was wearing a Garmin for the first time ever in a race. With it being a route I didn’t know I thought it would be nice to have a rough judge of distance, I remember running The Speyside Way 50k in 1997 (my 2nd ultra) and asking how much further to go and was devastated when I was told 10 miles when I was hoping it was a lot less. This was now my 41st ultra, still a mere handful compared to Ray McCurdy’s 97th.

After a few words from Bill we were off, a nice wooded track that soon opened out onto a stunning view, I stopped to take some photies then I look up the track, Pauline, Sue and Robin had pulled away a fair bit and I had to put in a bit of effort to try and catch them up… then I changed my mind, I’ll let them go, I didn’t want a thirty odd mile fartlek! I wanted to stop to take a photo when I liked without the pressure of trying to keep up and what a stunning day it was, low lying mist, rich autumn colours, the bracken was a deep burnished gold, the rising sun made spiders webs sparkle with diamonds, I wasn’t wasting this being pressured by time or pace.

It was still chilly in the shade but in the sun it was lovely I never took off my gloves, buffs or pushed my sleeves up I just enjoyed the warmth. On the viaduct I looked over to the road, and sent a wave and a smile, next time I’m driving along there I’ll catch it.

After crossing the road and heading towards the loop in the forest, the lead guys were belting down the road towards me!!!! What a speed, I doubt I could do that on a bike!! They’ll be finished by the time I’m halfway!

I loved the path in the forest, I was very much on my own, Ray McCurdy was well ahead, I was with him for a bit earlier, I knew there was a couple of girls running together behind me but I couldn’t see a soul. I was walking up a hill and decided to tell my camera how lovely it was.

Near the end of the forest I did see Mike R and his friend who were both running in monkey feet (you know what I mean, those minimal shoes with toes). There was a directional arrow that gave a few folk a bit of a dither, I heard later that Pauline, Sue and Robin got their map out, but for me it was merely a minor detail that the writing was up side down, the important thing was what way the arrow went and without a pause I followed it. I loved the arrow that pointed the way with the words “The Pub” I smiled and thought this must be around halfway then, I always get a wee boost when I realise I’ve got less to do than what I’ve just done.

I came down the hill gently and was back on the cycle path. Ken was on his bike and said that the rest of the gang weren’t that far in front, and on the long straight I could see them in the distance. He asked how I’d got on in the forest as a few had gone wrong; that puzzled me a bit, I’m not the brightest of bairns and I didn’t go wrong, but I think not having the brains to query a marker that wasn’t quite right worked in my favour .

I could feel my hamstrings tight, probably the lack of training and the cold, on the flat old railway line the soreness was reminiscent of that you have with the unchanging stride of 24 hour road race. I did have a wee giggle though, Ken had stopped at the viewpoint of Loch Earn and after taking my photo he was back on the bike, we were both looking down the loch then I heard him “Whoa!” I looked to see him have a wobble as he nearly fell into the ditch; I suppose that what happens when you don’t watch were you’re going!

After the last checkpoint near Kingshouse I started to look at the Garmin regularly, and roughly worked out the distance still to do, I never think about how far I’ve gone but on how far still to go which always gets smaller so in my mind easier, I envisaged nice easy runs round my local routine routes, at 9 miles to go it was my Valleyfield Lagoons route, at 5 miles, that’s just a dander down the Shore Road to Torryburn and home. But my miles weren’t coming down as quick as I’d like and didn’t feel as easy as I pretended but I just plodded them out. At times I could see the gang ahead, at others I tilted my head down and hid the hill with my peaked buff and shuffled up. Another distraction was a very muddy and very friendly Spaniel, despite the shouts from the owner it decided I wanted to play, I just tried to ignore him but it was a bit hard, eventually he left me alone after leaving me a present of mud and dog snot on ma kilt!

I was sure I was getting near the finish but I wasn’t depending on the information provided by the doofer on my wrist being correct and always over estimated the distance still to go, there was a few people about and I spotted a marshal ahead and thought it must be just around a mile or so left to go, the marshal said “About 400 yards and over the bridge.” I answered “Is that all?” Sure enough a wee bounce across the bridge and there I was. Wow, what a great run, a bit of a trudge for the last few miles but that’s what makes you enjoy it all the more when you stop.

After a quick change standing beside the car (another bonus wearing a kilt, you can change your knickers without breaking indecency laws) it was over to the pub for our well deserved soup and beer, and a catch up with other folk.

What a brilliant day, thanks to Mike and Bill and their helpers for putting on another cracking event. I’ll be back next year.

A Wee Woohoo on the Rollercoaster

2011-10-27T10:39:00.000Z

I’m on holiday from work this week and decided to have a WHW day, I felt a wee bit selfish not saying to anyone I was going but I wanted it all to myself beside most folk wouldn’t manage midweek or so I told myself trying to salve my conscience. I dithered on what bit to do, between Conic hill and Rowardennan are stunning in autumn colours but I that’s where I went around this time last year. I remembered I still had a voucher for a free cuppa and a big doad of cake to use at The Real Food Café that would go out of date at the end of the month so I decided I’d start and finish my run at Tyndrum.
I’ve not done much since the Glenmore 24, sliding easily from recovery to taper for the Loch Ness Marathon and my longest run since Loch Ness has just been 9 miles so I wasn’t looking for loads of miles and it is Glen Ogle 33 next week, I’ll save myself for that. Just a nice easy jaunt down the Way to the deer fence above Crianlarich and back would do nicely.

After a bit of faffing I got to Tyndrum and started running at around 11.30, one reason I love running on my own is being able to please myself and not feel as if I’m holding anyone back, going as slow as I like and to deviate from the path to take photos or just to stop and enjoy the peace and the scenery.

It was very quiet, no wind whistling through the trees and I only met a couple of walkers all day. I sat at the picnic table just above the deer fence for a bit, the sun was shining and I had the company of a Robin hopping about the grass. I didn’t want to go back yet so went a wee bit passed the deer fence just to see the view round the bend, but not as far as coo poo junction.

I only ate a few jelly beans, I was carrying a Rice Krispie Square and an Elevenses cake thing but I was saving myself for The Real Food Café, I’d already decided that I would have a nice bowl of soup before my big slice of cake.

On the way back I still took my time and even waded into the water for some photos my feet were wet anyway and I wanted to see a different angle.

After going under the road just passed Auchtertyre Farm it started to rain, it wasn’t too heavy so I didn’t bother getting my jacket out, I wasn’t far from Tyndrum… it then got heavy so I just got wet. Back at the car I changed my shoes and top, rubbed my hair dry with my t-shirt so I was presentable to enter civilisation. I went over to the Café, I noticed the car park was empty, it looked dark, I had to check the notice on the door although I already knew what it said. CLOSED. Aaaahhhh! I could’ve gone over to the Green Welly but I’d taken the huff, my bottom lip stuck so far out it was in danger of a stain injury! It was stotting rain now so I just went straight home and opened a tin of soup, it wasn’t quite the treat I’d envisaged to round off a smashing day but after all that fresh air and a handful of jelly beans it was still tasty!

I did have a bottle of Brains Dark I’d brought back from Wales last month so that was my treat while sorting though my photos Yes it was good day.

Running Wild

2011-10-15T20:06:00.001Z

Last summer Pete asked me if I’d be willing to be the subject for a film he thought he’d submit to Diversity Films, a Starting Blocks project and his idea was eventually short listed and selected, so with professional mentoring and funding “Running Wild” was in production. I wasn’t always a willing participant, “Get that camera out o’ ma face!” It also cost us the PS3 Guitar Hero Drum kit! Erin still hates her wee clip… her choice of hair colour has something to do with it! Most of the filming was around this time last year. Pete spent a long time on it, whittling around twenty hours of footage down to sixteen minutes. This is his baby and I’m proud of what he’s done although I do cringe a bit when I see my ugly mug on a large screen. It has been screened at film festivals from Glasgow to Russia! It was voted favourite at Edinburgh Mountain Film Festival last week. So get comfy for the next 16 minutes, grab a cuppa or a glass of wine and enjoy.

Loch Ness 10 out of 10

2011-10-09T09:17:00.001Z

This year was going to be even more special; there were ten of us that would be completing all ten of Baxters Loch Ness Marathon.

Pauline and I arrived early Saturday afternoon at Amy and Ewan's our B&B for nearly all our marathons. Pauline wasn’t running this year; she’s still recovering from the 24 hour race at the Commonwealth Championships the previous week. To say I felt as if I was still recovering from just doing her support sounds a bit feeble but standing for 24 hours did take a wee toll, my calves and achilles tendons felt tight, and I was awfy tired. My batteries were flat from my own 24 hour race at the Glenmore 24 on the 3rd September and were on trickle charge. I’d only done a handful of 5 mile runs since Glenmore, rest and recovery far more important than trying knocking out some last minute marathon training. But not being marathon fit or marathon trained wasn’t going to stop me having a good time and by that I don’t mean the numbers on my watch!

We had to be at registration for 4.00pm Saturday for a photo and we were presented with a t-shirt, crystal memento and a cup cake. It was fun watching Pauline hold my jacket, my bag and my camera trying to get photos without the official photographers elbow in the shot.

Then Pauline and I went for pasta and pints (all good carbs) before an early-ish night. Breakfast was at 6.15am and Amy does a cracking bowl of porridge, I topped it with a banana and honey, which was followed by smoked salmon, scrambled egg and toast. I was stuffed but that was ok, plenty time for it to go down before the start.

On the long bus journey to the start, I had to have a wee smile, a bus in front stopped to let some poor burstin’ soul off for a pee and since the rest of the buses couldn’t pass on the narrow road, a few others took the opportunity to pee, this happened twice, the slow journey to the start took even longer than normal. Time was tight when the buses got to the start, so with no faffing, I took off my jacket, fleece and tracksuit bottoms and put them in my bag and handed it into baggage. It was drizzling but the forecast was for it to brighten so I decided to be brave and just run in a short sleeved top, vest, three-quarter length tights and my wee kilt, no Buff, hat, gloves or sleeves. Wrong choice, it was announced that the race would be delayed for ten minutes so everyone had the chance to get to the start on time, I had no problem with that just that I had to stand and chitter for even longer, I hadn’t bothered taking a bin bag or throw away clothes. (I’ll remember that for next year)

The Pipe Band came through the field of runners; it always brings a lump to my throat. Then we were off, I knew I was running a faster pace than I planned but I was trying to generate a bit of heat, the rain was no longer a drizzle but stotting down. Steven, another Carnegie Harrier, running his first marathon, came along side me and he told me all of the miles so far were sub 9 pace, I don’t look at my watch, I laughed and said “I don’t do sub 9, actually I don’t think I’ve done sub 10’s this year!” Not to worry I’ll hang with it for as long as I felt comfortable or at least until I warm up. We stayed together until around nine miles; Steven pushed on to finish in 4 hours 6 minutes, absolutely brilliant considering he had no specific marathon training.

I started to tire at around 11 miles and nipped into the bushes for a pee, another lady joined me and said this was her second stop, and asked if it was the weather that was causing it. I was sure it was, I know skin is waterproof but I felt I was absorbing the rain, throughout the race I never felt the need to have more than a mouthful at any of the drink stations. I wished I had at least worn a Buff scarf, even when the rain stopped I never felt warm, but the views of the loch, Urquhart Castle, the field with the static caravans, my childhood holidays, brought back warm memories.

At Dores the support was as great as ever, I high fived all the kids. On the gentle start of the hill I started to feel a bit more comfortable, I kept looking round over my left shoulder until I was at the best viewpoint for looking down the loch. I turned round walking backwards for a few paces and shout to folk around me “Look behind, scenery break!” I think a few thought I was nuts but still looked back briefly, a Wee County runner went by me and she said. “Thanks, I’d forgot about that.” On the steeper climb of the hill, I kept an easy short shuffle, I’ve never been fast at Loch Ness but I’ve never walked either and I wasn’t breaking tradition. I went past Wee County runner; she was walking, and said “Well done digging in.” I replied I was doing micro shuffle, she laughed and said that’s what she calls “The Mince”. Walk, mince or micro shuffle, whatever technique works use it!

Once over the climb, which in my mind is just a slog, there is no such thing as a killer hill, it’s just the pace you choose to go up it that kills! It was time to lengthen my stride, relax and let gravity work its magic on the long down but ouchy ouchy, my quads and glutes weren’t for relaxing, if they could make a face it would be of one that’s just sooked a lemon. I suppose that's what I get for trying to run marathon pace when I’m not marathon trained and especially on a course that is mainly down hill. I wasn’t prepared for this race but I knew that even running at an easy pace there is no such thing as an easy marathon, it’s a long way, it was gonna hurt but my next incredulous thoughts were “My legs weren’t as sore as this at the Glenmore 24! The last time I had around 4 miles to go I’d already ran 104 miles! So as a gnarly old ultra runner another 4 miles would be nae bother. Get on with it!” But even for a gnarly old ultra runner it did hurt but with my squiffy mentality it was still fun and a privilege.

I slogged it out, hauling my jarring legs in, at around the 25 miles a guy in front stepped off the road and leaned against the wall, I shouted “Come on, hang in there!” as I went by, his reply was reminiscent of an alpha stag at the autumn rut! Why do men have to be so vocal when they puke?

Pauline was standing by the bouncy foot bridge just after 25 miles; it was her turn to shout at me “COME ON!” I answered just as loudly “ALRIGHT!” The last mile, the bitter sweet, so glad to get it done, so proud to achieve. My apologies to my friends that shouted to me as I approached the finish, I didn’t acknowledge you because I couldn’t hear you, the crowd en masse were deafening! Thank you all for your support.

Ten Loch Ness Marathons done. 262 miles on the same route, it is a beautiful route and for folk that are time orientated it is a PB course. Don’t let the hill after Dores psych you out there is more down hill than up. That is why my quads are still giving me grief a week later but sooooo worth it. Yeah, I’ll be there next year.

Glenmore 24 report

2011-09-11T21:10:00.002Z

Pauline and I arrived around an hour and a half before the start and were instantly hit with how relaxed and easy going this event was. I asked where I could park and was told anywhere I liked; I saw George and Karen so we decided to be their neighbours. Most of the 24 hour races I’ve either ran or supported have been under the strict rules of the IAU, this event was going to be SO different. Pauline asked if it would be ok if she could run a lap of the course in reverse, just to see it and take some photos, Bill said “Do what you want, run with Fiona if you like; we just want everyone to enjoy themselves.” My kind of race! Rule No.1 Enjoy!

My training has been quite minimal but my duff Achilles that’s been giving me grief most of the year has settled down and I decided I wasn’t undertrained just well rested and ready to go. I’ve had three 20 mile runs, just enough to practice my ultra groove, I know how to run tired; I didn’t need to practice it in training! I had a secret goal of 100 miles; I didn’t want to say out loud what I was aiming for because I thought folk would raise their eyebrows in an “Aye right!” kinda way. But I knew that however slow the pace I would not stop. I never have and never will.

We were soon under way, the 4 mile lap started on the grass with a wee steep slope which turned onto a lumpy narrow path, after that it was a wide track with some gentle undulations but a fairly even flat surface, I called this part “the long run” because ever lap I ran it all. Then there was a left turn up a steep-ish hill, it levelled a bit then we got the long steep hill with the half way checkpoint on it. Before the race I’d decided to run all the first lap and then plan where to walk on the rest of the laps until I saw that hill, I walked up the really steep part, I picked points after the checkpoint and every lap I’d run short sections of the hill. Then there was a long descent, I took it very easy, it was of a gradient that would kill the quads if you weren’t careful. Then a nice meander on a flat track with a wee kick of a hill, a left turn down about five stone steps and back to base camp on the grass.

On the second lap I fell on the lumpy narrow path, I went down with quite a clump; my juice bottle flew out of my bottle belt and wheeched past my right ear to land on the ground in front of me beside my sunglasses! I think I gave Vicky quite a fright, she stopped her race to help me up but besides a few wee flesh wounds, a bleeding, burning heel on my left palm, a wee scuff on the heel of my right hand, a bleeding right elbow and a bruised left one, a wee dunt on my left knee (I was well pleased I hadn’t torn my Skins, too flaming expensive!) Eight and a half stone from not very high up, assuming the shape of a starfish on landing so not one point of contact took the full force reduced the chance of serious damage. A stingy anti-septic wipe next lap and I was fine. Pauline kept a detailed lap sheet, her entry in the comment box for lap 2. Skint elbow. Unofficial rest already! I didn’t lie down for very long, honest!

Pauline came with me on the fourth lap, she was no pace maker, if anything she messed with my smooth rhythm, scampering about in front then behind taking photos, I’m glad she did though the scenery was outstanding. I felt I didn’t settle until the fifth lap, 20 miles, that kinda made sense to me, I don’t feel settled in the WHW until after Balmaha, 20 miles. I was comparing the Glenmore 24 to the WHW and 24 hour racing. I decided it was like the bread I’d made my ginger jam pieces with, Hovis Best of Both. Stunning scenery and all run-able (depending on the freshness of the legs), whether it’s a good run or a not so good run, you still get to stop at 24 hours, a short one in my book!

Pauline was doing a great job offering me food every lap, it was hard to decide what I wanted, with the laps being 4 miles there couldn’t be any “Get it next lap!” I made it even harder for her; I will never wait for anything so Pauline had to be sharp. I managed to eat well throughout the race although it was a struggle sometimes to decide what I wanted. During the WHW I know what I’m going to pick up at all the checkpoints and I look forward to it. In the early evening I thought about where I would I be if on the WHW and what would I be eating? I’d have been heading towards Bridge of Orchy, where I pick up a wee bag of boiled new tatties, tossed in butter, freshly ground salt, pepper and mint. That’s what I’ll have next lap (I’d prepared a couple of bags)

When it got dark and cooled down, I put on my white fleece, I thought that I’d be easy seen by Ada, counting the laps (and what a star she was, shouting she’d got me every lap, I don’t think she took a break throughout the race) and for Pauline, but that was a fail! I’d come through the start of base camp looking towards our wee tent and table, no Pauline! “Hello?” I called. She’d been standing with Norry, who’s supporting Jeroen at his bonfire in a bucket. She said she’d shouted “Is that you Fiona?” I hadn’t heard her because everyone at base camp was shouting all the runners’ names as they came through, the support was brilliant. Seconds later she appeared at my side, but not without causing a little mayhem in her wake, she’d tripped over not one but two guy ropes on the tent that Norry’s Dad was trying to have a wee kip. Not any more after Hurricane Pauline had hit!

The sky was clear, a beautiful night, the stars were absolutely stunning without the pollution of street lights bleeding the life out of them. I staggered off the path as I looked up, that was a bit daft, no point risking another fall. I stopped briefly, putting my hand over my head torch and savoured the moment when every star belonged to me.

I’d brought plenty warm clothes, and nearly every lap through the night Pauline would ask me if I was warm enough, I was moving well, eating well and generating enough body heat, I always answered yes. Out on the course the temperature was cool but the trees had held onto some of the warmth of the day but in the open of base camp it had dropped below zero, you could feel it as you hit the open ground. Pauline’s Skin So Soft had frozen solid; she was well prepared for the cold but found it challenging jogging beside me with her hands full of my mug and food with a hot water bottle stuffed up her jumper without it falling out! She also ran a lap with me around midnight and another one later on; I think it helped to keep her warm and awake.

I never paid much attention to what lap I was on, they were being expertly counted and log by Ada and Pauline, I just stuck to my routine of the lap, always drinking and eating at certain points and on “the long run” checking my posture and running it all, it would’ve been easy to give in to a walk on the undulations but if I did that I’d walk on that point every lap from then on. When training if I come to a point where I can choose a hard option or an easy option I have one rule. Never choose easy.

I had a great boost from one of the marshals at the halfway checkpoint at the back of 3am. She shouted “Fiona! You are one of the strongest runners here!”

On one lap I was running with Mimi, I was a bit in awe; I thought “She lapped me three times yesterday!” I was now running with her, she told me about her recent Double Badwater, and that she’d be running the Spartathlon at the end of the month! I hope I kept my jaw off the ground; I had enough grazed bits as it was!

My laps were averaging around 55 mins and not one went over the hour, I did have a few that were 59 minutes from around 4.00am. (In hospitals I think it’s known as death hour, when the body is at its lowest.) I plodded on through the dawn, Loch Morlich was stunning with a lazy mist lying on it, Pauline came round with me for a fourth and last time, taking more photos and was lucky enough to snap one of a deer, but you’ll need to look close.

At 7.00am my normal wake up time, I perked up, my next lap was 51 mins. I’d had my I-pod since about 10.00pm my playlist (aptly named Run Forever) was keeping the pace.

Skiltron’s Fast and Wild lyrics struck a cord. I’m still a Rampant Lion and I can still effin roar!

Follow the wind without thinking about it,

Breaking it all, facing the storm!

Fearless and faster than everything else,

Avoiding death, even in hell!

Taking the baton, heading the race.

Becoming the wildest, go for them!

Freeway the road, get to the end.

No step back.

Roaring like a lion…

I battered down the hill, I didn’t need my quads any more, my heart and soul were now in charge and it was a Highland Charge they were planning!

Pauline told me I had time for three more laps as long as I don’t let it go. “Nae chance” I thought. “Ok. Three laps, I can do that.” Then I thought “That’s twelve miles!” instantly I disregarded that thought, the distance in miles sounded too far, concentrating on just three laps would be easier! The support going through base camp was phenomenal, all the cheering, I soaked up all the strong vibes; it brought a lump to my throat that everyone willed me on. Pauline never logged my time for lap 26 but in the comment box she wrote BLOODY FAST.

The last lap, Pauline came with me up the grassy slope then told me to “Bugger Off!” I laughed out loud; perfectly timed Runrig’s Clash of the Ash. COME ON! ALRIGHT! I shouted it long after the song finished, I didn’t care who heard me. “The long run” was hard, when I got to the steep-ish hill my breathing was ragged and my throat raw, I forced in a wee bit tablet. I’d got myself back under control just in time to see Robin and Anne Wombill walking towards me, what a boost to see my friends, they said “See you at the finish.” I was only half kidding when I replied “You’d better hurry up then!” I was taking no prisoners. It was a Highland Charge, no holding back, nae fear. COME ON! At the half way checkpoint I thanked Alan Silcock for his support during the race, I received a hug. That’s ok, running warriors do hugs! I battered down the hill one last time. I wiped the slavers from my face and pushed to the finish. I stopped at 23.46.49. 27 laps. 108 miles. 2nd burd and 4th overall. (Excuse my ineloquence) FUCK! I have never ever finished a race in such a prestigious position. I doubt I will ever do it again.

I deliberately left writing my race report for a week, so I could come down from cloud nine and write with a clear head, sorry I failed, I’m still buzzin’ and emotional. (A wee pause while I clear the lump from my throat.) Thank you, Bill and Mike for putting on such a brilliant event, to all your helpers, you were brilliant, thank you for your support especially those at the half way checkpoint, that was a tough post but all your encouragement made all the difference. Ada, I had every confidence in your lap counting. Lastly Pauline, you pandered to my diva demands and rose to everything I threw at you. You don’t have to worry; I’ll do the same for you, and more, in a coupe of weeks.

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.

Glenmore 24 thank you for one of the best days of my life.

Thoughts and tunes for Glenmore 24

2011-08-31T10:48:00.000Z

Training has gone ok for the Glenmore 24, I’ve had a total of three 20 milers! Well, I’ve never let inadequacy hold me back before so I’m not starting now. Besides I think I can count a 32hour WHW towards training and the memory of my hardest race. I’ve just read last years 24 hour race report, I think I glossed over the hard bits! My memory is of the dark and the stagger.

I entered Glenmore 24 after being buoyed up after a surprisingly good 20 mile run on the 1st of August, the other two 20 milers haven’t felt easy but that’s ok. I believe there is a trinity in running. Body, heart and soul and it isn’t equal thirds. Not many are lucky enough to stand at the start line with a fully fit, well trained and injury free body but with their heart and soul they reach the finish. The body is the smallest part of the equation, a heart and soul runner will carry their body to the ends of the earth if they so wished. I am prepared for a bit of carcass hauling. It won’t be fast and it won’t be pretty but with self belief I will still be standing at the finish. A 24 hour race isn’t a journey from A to B but a journey from within.

I don’t listen to music during races I think ipods are a bit anti-social and I like a blether but I make an exception for 24 hour races, (this is my fourth) I’ve loaded my ipod with a playlist of around 8 hours worth of lively and inspirational tunes for the wee small hours when most folk withdraw into their own wee world, music does make a difference. It goes without saying that Clash of the Ash by Runrig is on it, also loads more Runrig especially Live at Loch Ness, Queens Don’t Stop Me Now is another favourite and if I really sound like I’m in pain I’m just singing along to U2’s Elevation. Black Eyed Peas, I Gotta a Feeling works for me too. Footloose (theme from 80’s film) andFleetwood Mac’s Tusk are great for keeping a good cadence. A little Shakira keeps the hips loose! Being a Fifer I’ve got to have The Proclaimers I’m Gonna Be (500 miles) I’ve good memories of singing it in my head going up the Devil’s Staircase on my first WHW in 2003. I’ve a few good fighting songs, Glasvegas Go Square Go is a good “just get on with it!” song. Sticking with some local boys, Dunfermline has produced some crackers, I’ve got some Skids, Big Country and Nazareth.
My theme tune for Glenmore.

My philosophy - Confucius. It does not matter how slowly you go as long as you do not stop.

Robin Wombill's DOTH report

2011-08-20T08:11:00.000Z

DOTH 2011 race report.

Royal Wedding day saw me in front of the telly but working on my drop bags for my support crew at the DOTH checkpoints. I seemed to ‘faff’ about for ages, I’m sure I made a better job of it last year, and never got to bed as early as I wanted. However I wasn’t as nervous as my previous ultra’s and slept well, but not for very long as I had the alarm set for 2 am.

I wasn’t as nervous because my goals were to finish in under 12 hours, in one piece and to have got my fluid and refuelling correct. It was also my third ultra this year and a conservative finish time of 11 hours was what I thought my body would be able to achieve.

I got up at 2 am, had some breakfast and left at getting on 3 am. I stopped in Scone at the cashpoint and realised I’d not made any sandwiches for my checkpoints ! Halfway to Tyndrum I also remembered I’d left my mobile with my son, Richard, as he would be buddy running me at points and I reckoned him using my £15 Tesco special was better than his own expensive one.

I got to Tyndrum just after 4 am, registered and then started on my race plan. Item 1, a plate of beans on toast and a cup of coffee. I really, really didn’t want the beans on toast ( and I knew I wouldn’t ) but I forced myself. After a couple of mouthfuls they went down easily and I polished them off. Then I took a mouthful of coffee, wow ! It was like rocket fuel. Silly thing was it never crossed my mind to have a second cup.

To save the whole family getting up at 2 am Ken Walker was going to support me at Bridge of Orchy. So before the start I gave him my drop bag and borrowed his phone to call Anne and request my sandwiches. In the event I got a bonus and was supported by Ken AND the twins.

Sue Walker and I started together as she also thought a conservative time would be the result of the event. We ran comfortably and I was surprised to get the bridge at Bridge of Orchy 2 minutes faster than we got to the railway station last year. Then we went over Rannoch Moor and it somehow seemed easier than last year. We ran/walked as necessary and I was pleased to see I was able to walk at 15 minute mile pace. Being taught by the masters (or is it mistresses?) in the shape of Fiona and Pauline, Sue is a demon at getting through checkpoints quickly so, if possible, I always try to pull ahead before a checkpoint to ensure we stay together. There was another surprise when we arrived at Glencoe. I was 7 minutes earlier than last year. I’d told my crew I’d be slower than last year so they were all sitting in the ski centre car park ! I’m not so fast in checkpoints, partly because I eat whilst stopped. I just find it easier. I set off from Glencoe with Anne and Richard buddying me and immediately passed Ray McCurdy and Victoria O’Reilly – Sue was no longer to be seen. This was where something we’d learnt last year came into play. I have trouble eating and last year struggled with daunting sandwiches until I refused to eat any more (bad idea in an ultra). This year Anne carried the food and occasionally a hand would appear with something bite-sized in it and the command ‘eat this’. It was a selection of things and I never knew what it would be, maybe a bit of jam sandwich or marmite sandwich, a couple of jelly babies or half a cheese twist. It worked well, I ate what was given, and did so for the rest of the race. I was carrying 1.5 litres of half strength Nunn in my camelback and at each checkpoint it was topped up and I drunk plain water.

I lost more time to Sue as I had to empty stones out of my shoes at the bottom of the Devil’s Staircase ( must get some gaiters). I did think at Glencoe that maybe, if I was sensible, I would be able to get nearer to 10 hours than 11, if I’d have told Anne this it may have eased tensions later in the race, but I didn’t want to tempt fate so I kept quiet. The sun had come out and it was hot going up the staircase, which seemed tougher than ever before. Near the top Sue came into view and I was sensible, I didn’t dash after her but stayed steady and took care over the rocky route. I did catch and pass Sue before Kinlochleven but as before she was through and out before me. I was 5 minutes slower to Kinlochleven than last year but felt a lot better and wasn’t worried as I didn’t intend falling and losing 10 to 15 minutes in the last section ! At Glencoe I swapped Anne for Fiona Morrison who has run off road but nothing like the last section of the WHW. The girl done brilliant. She ran everything the track threw at her with a smile, encouraging words for me and of course the hand shooting out with the food and the words ‘eat this’. I was really pleased because I want Fiona and Anne buddying me at the full WHW race next year and now we all know we can do it. All through the last section I stayed conservative because I wanted to get to the final run down Glen Nevis and be able to run properly, this was my plan to gain more time and bury the bogey of hitting the wall there last year. I passed Sue again and then gradually passed other runners as well. It was good to see our old friends the Wilderness Rescue crews but my favourite bit of the whole race was when we passed a large group of German teenagers (possibly scouts as they all wore matching red scarves). They did a Mexican Wave and staring shouting ‘number 1’, ‘number 1’, I had no idea what to do so starting raising my arms as if I’d just won the race and started running faster. I’m not sure if I suddenly realised I was on the section I fell last year and also in training in March ( the section I promised Anne and myself I’d walk ) or whether Fiona shouted at me ( I think it was the latter) but I rapidly stopped running and walked. Once we’d got through the dodgy section I got running again and came to Lundrava. Anne came to meet us with water and more food and the three of us carried on. Anne ran in front, me in the middle and Fiona brought up the rear. Now the stresses started. Anne realised that if I pushed on I could break 10 hours. I knew this and this was now my plan but I didn’t want to voice it out loud. Also I was tired and we were still climbing. My final plan was to take it steady and push it down the logging track at the finish. It got a bit fractious with Anne encouraging ( nagging ) me, and me getting snippy. We finally got to the start of the logging track at exactly the same time as last year but this time I wasn’t covered in bandages and blood and I wasn’t completely knackered. Then I started to run properly, I was wary at first in case I ran out of steam after a mile but I didn’t. Not only that but I started passing more people. It was great. I knew then that I would get sub 10 but by how much ? I overtook my last runner about 400 metres from the finish and just squeezed under 9:55. To say I was pleased was an understatement. To cap it all Sue also got under 10. What a race, what a day.

I felt with this race I really had to finish in a decent state, physically and mentally to feel more confident about the WHW race next year. I achieved this and also got a good time. Also crossing Rannoch Moor I chatted to Vicky O’Reilly. Vicky is about my pace for ultras and this year she did the WHW race in 34 hours so that also helped. Another difference was that after being so sick at the Fling I actually ran this race with no synthetic fuel like gels. I think it was Gail Murdoch who had gastric problems at Gloucester and I think that for her next ultra she tried to use ‘proper’ food rather than things like gels. I tried to follow her idea and used Slimfast, sandwiches, Ambrosia creamed rice, jelly with fruit in it, flat coke, flat ginger beer, coffee, jelly babies and cheese twists. I’d tried everything in training except the cheese twists and they were a bit of a gamble but I really like them and they worked.

Finally a big thank you to my own support crew and all the Carnegie’s who not only helped me on the day but for their huge ultra knowledge that they’re always happy to impart to me.

Plan A then B then C. Whatever!

2011-08-03T22:55:00.000Z

At the beginning of the year there was a slim chance I might’ve been selected to run the 24 hour race at the Commonwealth Championship in September but as the year progressed my slim chance became nae chance but not to worry there are a few other girls that are loads faster and deserve a shot of doing Scotland proud.

So I thought I’d wait until after the WHW then enter Tooting Bec 24 hour so after the WHW I had my usual week of no running then gradually just running to how I felt, which was a big slow sack o’ tatties that was taking ages to recover so I decided that since 24 hour running is all about the distance you get there is no point in putting myself through it, there is no way I would get anywhere near my goal at the pace the I’ve been running this year so I’ll give it a miss and just look forward to taking it easy until the Loch Ness Marathon.

Last week I began to feel a wee bit spritely and took myself out for about 13 miles, the longest I’ve done since the WHW, I thought I might do the Speyside Way Race, I still have a ghost to bury regarding that race and I’ve waited six years already.

Then on Monday I went out for about 16 miles, just kept a nice easy pace, by about 15 miles I hit comfortable, I was in my ultra groove so decided to do 18 miles then revised it again and thought I’d just round it up to 20 miles. So on the strength of that I considered the Glenmore24 I ran the idea by Pauline yesterday, she thought it was a good idea and she would do my support, I laughed when she said it would be good to watch me suffer as it would help her get her head in gear for her own 24 hour race a fortnight later! Cheers Pauline! But suffering is just a state of mind not a physical thing. I just plan to have fun, the Glenmore is like no other 24 hour race I’ve either ran or supported. It’s going to be on a huge lap of 4 miles of trail and scenery so I’m just going to do it, no pressure of how far I will get, whatever the distance it will be a whole lot further than not running a 24 hour race!

I’ve posted my entry today before I change my mind again and besides I’ve got a cracking new bit of kit, high tech it ain’t but it is still essential. Erin made a bead bracelet for me. A wee bit of inspiration goes a long way…

A waterfall, a hill and an Angel

2011-07-17T00:25:00.003Z

Last weekend Pauline and I had a lovely few days chillin’ with no running whatsoever but still getting oot n’ aboot. We were camping in Fort William but there was no “roughing it” involved, a big tent, airbeds, table, chairs and lots of cosy layers and a good measure of wine and a little malt.

By a warm and sunny Saturday afternoon our camp was set up with a cracking view of the Ben, the evening was spent watching caterpillars of walkers coming off the hill. Ben Nevis was on our plan, it’s been a few years since we were last there but we decided to wait until Monday when the weather forecast was better and the weekend walkers had gone home, I’m not anti-social but I like a bit of elbow room.

So Sunday was gonna be a bit wet with low cloud so decided to head up the Kyle of Lochalsh road to the Falls of Glomach, reputedly one of the biggest waterfall in Britain. It was a smashing walk, we kinda underestimate how long it would take, a runner’s view of ten miles is a bit different to a walker and with lots of steep ups and downs, open moor, stops for photies and sandwiches, our rough estimate of four hours was closer to six hours but there was no time constraint and the waterfall was well worth it. I’ve never really been affected by vertigo but the sheer drop, narrow scrambley path to the viewpoint with the rush of the water just sucked you down. I could only look over the edge lying on the wet rock. I laughed at Pauline’s wide eyed exclamation; she’s never been keen on high paths, “Scary biscuits!”

Monday was fair but the Ben was cloudy on the summit, no different to most days, it only averages one day in ten of being clear. We went up the “tourist” path, that was fine by me, I had my camera and I don’t live there, tourist and proud! We kept looking down to the camp site and a wee blue speck that was our tent, I waved down to it, I’ll catch that later when sitting with my wine looking up.

I cin see ma tent frae here!

Nearing the top, the cloud was thick, still no wind which was unusual, I was only wearing a thermal long sleeved top and a t-shirt, a gentle breeze made me consider putting on my fleece, I looked up, second thoughts, I’ll no bother we’re at the top. A few photies, a clunk of hipflasks, my first effort of a plank, dunno if I got the fine points of technique right but at least it was with altitude!

I loved the blether and nods with everyone else on the hill although there were a couple of miserable buggers that just ignored us. The diversity of the folk on the hill made me smile from the “serious” walkers kitted out in hundreds of pounds worth of gear and rucksacks the size of a small shed to the old bloke in a nylon poncho carrying a Morrison’s carrier bag, the young lads with just rain jackets tied round their waists. The ten year old boy that asked us on the high zig-zags how far was the top, his parents were on the way up too but he had scampered off. I was chuffed for the older bloke from Birmingham, we’d caught him up on the upper zig-zags, he’d was pleased he’d got this far and was going all the way, we spoke to him again when we were heading down he would definitely make it. A few folk looked like they were struggling and hating every step, I felt for them, I’m sure they’d be pleased with their achievement when they got back down but for me it seems strange not to enjoy being in stunning scenery and if it’s hard work it only adds to experience. I think the couple that asked how far it was to the top thought I was only kidding when I said “You’re not far when you get to the snowman!” Sod’s law though, when we were back down did the summit no clear! Oh well, that’s fine I’ll never get fed up going up and down the Ben, maybe next time I’ll get the view!

Tuesday was a fine day but we were both working Wednesday so we slowly packed up camp after a leisurely breakfast in the sun. We broke up the journey home with a stop at Bein Glas Farm, it was the 12th July, two years to the day since Dario left us, so the opportunity of a wee walk in the Angel’s playground couldn’t be missed. We set off at ice-lolly pace, it was still bright and buying a Solero at the shop didn’t make us feel guilty about using their car park.

We stopped at Dario’s post for a bit, I always have a wee wobble to myself, survivor’s guilt, why was I so lucky when other’s who deserve luck were not. We went on passed Doune bothy to Dario’s memorial book, this was no moment of reverence or quiet contemplation but an evil version of the children’s party game of pass the parcel, I had retrieved the black bag parcel from its hiding place, knocked off the big black slugs with a stick, Pauline wussed out, she paced up and down shouting “Hurry up!” as I unwrapped the ice-cream box of its many many layers and zip-lock bag with midges crawling in my ears, nose and in my eyes, I could hear no music just the chortling of an Angel. We wrote a few words then Pauline left me to play the evil pass the parcel game in reverse and I placed the bomb proof parcel back in its hiding place.

We headed back to Bein Glas for some chips and beer before heading home, four days of not conforming to a timepiece but to what seems natural. We promised each other not to leave it so long until our next chill out. all my photies

West Highland Way 2011

2011-07-04T00:01:00.000Z

My training for this year had been pretty minimal, the only running on the WHW I’ve had was the Fling and a couple of 13 milers, everything else was on road, a 22 miler and a handful of 15/16 milers and that was it. I wasn’t too worried, I wasn’t chasing a PB, just being there to celebrate having my health and being alive was enough for me and at least it was more than the Pirate!

Just before the start Pauline and I were shouting at each other, don’t worry it was no twinny tiff, just a twinny tradition since Perth 24 hour 2008 COME ON! ALRIGHT! COME ON! ALRIGHT!

A countdown to the hooter at 1.00am and we’re off, and what a send off, I’ve never seen Milngavie High Street lined with applauding supporters all the way to the turn,

photo - Colin Knox

Pauline and I were amazed. We were together for a short time before she trotted off, I run no ones pace but my own. It was busy with lots of blethering and light hearted whinging about getting splashed from the muddy puddles. It wasn’t long before my nice white new shoes were spattered in mud, well, nearly new shoes, I’d worn them for the Skye half marathon the week before. I wasn’t sure if the mud was extra slimy and slippery or my lack of trail running made the going awfy slow, (I have it on good authority that the rain washes the oil out of the peat and that’s what makes the path slippy) I wasn’t risking battering along and becoming a cropper. I did have one “Eeek” moment at Beech Tree and there was no mud involved! I’d just passed their huge floodlight still dazzled and blind, I caught my toe on the pavement and nearly went all my length, that wasn’t the scary bit, (I’m a short arse with not far to go!) A campervan was haring down the road, I was seconds away from being roadkill, not what I wanted a few miles in! I was going slow as it was, that really would’ve held me back a bit!

Along the path of a thousand gates, I was mostly with Susan and Rob and another couple, I did have a cunning plan for this section, I don’t know why but in the past I always seemed to find myself in the front. That was fine when the gates were of the wee cute kissing variety but these big hefters! After a wee turn at the front, I paused a bit then tucked in at the back, my puny upper body wasnae getting the chance of a work out!

On the tarmac road heading to Drymen, I took off my head torch, it wasn’t quite dawn but light enough to see the nightlife, bats still flitting about and a huge hedgehog trundle across the road. At Drymen it was just a straight swap of backpacks, I was working with two, no faffing with refilling the bladder, Val and Allan had time to refuel the ditched one before I swapped again at Rowardennan. I was with Caroline heading toward Conic hill and enjoyed her company until I stopped for a pee before leaving the trees and heading into the open ground. On the descent, for the first time, I stuck to the stupid stone path, I’ve always came down the grass but this time it just seemed too slimy, I’ve done this descent in all seasons and weathers but this time my gut instinct was on the extremely cautious side and I wasn’t arguing with that.

At Balmaha (20 miles) I had a change from tradition, I’ve abstained from caffeine for a month as usual, and I’ve always had a mug of coffee here but I’d decided to have tea instead and save my big caffeine hit for Bridge of Orchy. Val walked with me as I ate my rice pudding carrying my mug, we reached the top of Fort hill before I’d finished my tea and took a few photos. I still loved it along the ups and downs towards Rowardennan, I always wondered if I loved this bit so much because of the coffee hit but I was glad to see it was still special without the caffeine enhancement.

At Rowardennan I changed my socks, my feet didn’t feel too bad at all but loads of Body Glide and dry socks were pre-emptive. I also learnt that I was half an hour down on last year. Yikes! That is slow. I don’t run to my watch, just my body. My support had a sheet of my previous splits for the past three years and last year I was quite slow because I ran with a wee chest infection. I also found out that Pauline was half an hour down too but she’d gone over on her ankle twice, besides still having the Comrades Marathon in her legs she was hoping for around 22 to 24 hours (she’s a tough ol’ burd I wasn’t worried, I knew she’d finish whatever the time. She finished 28hrs 20mins)

Heading towards Inversnaid I had a helluva faffin’ with my rain jacket, first it was on, then it was off, then it was tied round my waist, then it was rolled and tied, (I hate stuff flapping round my bahooky) then it was back on. This time I just put my jacket on over my backpack, I might look like a ninja turtle but a lot easier than putting in on and off under my backpack. Karin caught up with me here, she must’ve been watching, I bet she was laughing at my anorak antics. We were together for a fair bit along the loch, Karin, thank you for that smashing compliment, it buoyed me up no end.

At Inversnaid I picked up my drop/party bag, I was ready to go before Karin and HBT Jamie. I felt a bit of a wrench leaving before them, same as when I stopped for a pee when I was with Caroline, but you’ve got to run your own race, I didn’t doubt I’d see them both again throughout the race.

My right knee was complaining a bit along the rough path along the loch shore but once I hit the flat grassy bit I found a surge, my best and strongest section until Bein Glas, I don’t call this bit the Angel’s Playground for nothing I wasn’t just having a “good” section I was carried by an Angel, I stopped for a few moments at Dario’s post sharing the Talisker I got in last weeks goody bag.

At Bein Glas (40 miles) I picked up my second party bag, it was lovely to see Mags here, last year we were running together for a bit around Bein Glas. I ditched the half full 500ml bottle of juice (flat diluted Ginger Beer with a few grains of salt. I don’t do high tech, high price, blind ya wi’ science drinks) I had carried from Inversnaid and took the 250 ml bottle and walked up the hill eating my tub of custard.

After my high along the Angel’s playground the only way was down, my legs were sore, my knees were no liking the bendy thing, and I was a tad tired. I thought about taking some paracetamol but didn’t, I was saving it for later. Also I was with a couple of guys that were really struggling, one of them was for stopping at Auchtertyre, they’d ran out of drinks, so I gave them some of mine, I tried to persuaded him to carry on until Bridge of Orchy then make his decision, but he came back with “I became a Granddad five weeks ago, I’m not built for this, I don’t want to have a heart attack!” Whoa! This was serious negativity, what could I say. I’m not medically trained, so I hoped I wasn’t lying. I replied “We’re not moving fast, breathing hard or have a high heart rate, we’re only tired. Tiredness doesn’t put you in the “at risk” category.” if he felt this bad I wouldn’t try to persuade him to keep going any more. I rarely feel anti-social but I felt I needed to be on my own, selfish, maybe, but I was struggling too!

The rollercoaster was no fun at the fair, I was glad to cross the road and hit the tarmac where I could run without my knees screaming, I got to Auchtertrye at 3.48pm. Robin has now arrived for his stint of support. I had another change of socks, wolfed my baked tattie and watched race checkpoint pack up camp. 4.00pm was the cut off, I was relieved to see Karin come in just behind me, where was Jon? I felt quite rattled leaving Auchtertyre, I was close to being timed out. I’ll never disrespect a race marshal or volunteer, but no way was I stopping for something as trivial as time, at no point during the race did I ever think I would fail. I mean no criticism of the race rules, I do suppose that generally anyone who doesn’t get to Auchtertyre by 4.00pm Saturday isn’t going to get to Fort William by 12noon Sunday but whoever invented them didn’t bank on me being in the equation. The lack of speed will never equal the lack of ability, not in my book! I had some ugly “what if” scenarios playing round my head but by the time I got to Tyndrum I’d stopped rattling the bars of my cage, it didn’t happen, I wasn’t timed out, dragged off the route for disobedience and banned from future races so I can cancel the panic.

I eventually calmed down after Tyndrum,53 miles done, 42 to go, although my pace was slow I could maintain it forever. I had a mug of tea and some shortbread, and the easier going section got me back into my groove, it was raining really heavy and my quads and knees were feeling cold. I was having a rethink of what was planned for Bridge of Orchy and was about to get the phone out when I saw a bright yellow jacket with bare legs hanging out the bottom coming towards me. I thought “Nutter!” Then I recognised Lesley, she had just arrived with Gillian, it must’ve been better weather at home then. I had pinched Lesley from Pauline’s support. The original support plan was for Pauline to have Sue and Mel with Lesley arriving to lighten the load on the latter half, I was to have Val and Allan supporting until Auchtertyre then Robin and Gillian taking over for the second half but Gillian had been ill at the beginning of the week and wasn’t sure if she was even going to make it at all never mind any running but thankfully by Friday night she had recovered enough to come.

After a bit of discussion I asked Lesley to get the poly bag marked Glencoe from my big holdall, it contained tights, my favourite blue fleece (I’ve worn it for the Devil’s staircase every year since 2007) and the waterproof breeks, then she scampered off to get the team ready also if I was going to have to take my wet shoes off I might as well change my socks and shoes, my nice not so new and shiny white shoes had done 60 miles, time for a fresh pair. Now here is where support prove they’re worth their weight in gold, silver, platinum and all things priceless. Val and Allan were meant to go home after Auchtertyre, they couldn’t stay as they had family stuff on Sunday but with Gillian being doubtful Val said she would stay to go over Rannoch Moor with me then go home. We were both geared up for the slog to Glencoe. I headed for the hill then I saw the Pirate sitting in a campervan looking all cosy and comfy. (He’d probably disagree about the comfy part but from where I was standing he was at least dry and sitting down), his legs were giving him major grief, not surprising, after 60 hard miles with bugger all training, he was stopping here. He got no sympathy from me just an earful of abuse… then a hug.

It was lovely to see Murdo on the hill, I didn’t expect him to still be here in these conditions he must’ve had a long day, hanging around is so much harder than moving forward. Thanks Murdo for the jelly babies they were very much appreciated.

Rannoch Moor was long but my legs were moving in the right direction and my bag of wee boiled tatties tossed in butter, salt, pepper and mint from my garden, went down well. As we were heading up the hill we saw a couple of walkers come over the top, Val and I both thought it was a bit late in the day for traipse over moor then realised it was Sean, not just Lord of the Bridge but multi-tasking as shepherd.

I went straight through the Glencoe checkpoint just picking up my mug filled with hot pasta and Lesley now wearing waterproof breeks too, and headed down the road. Aagghh! I stopped dead! Oh no! I’d forgotten that Val and Allan were heading home and I wouldn’t see them again. I uttered not one word of thanks or even cheerio! I hoped I would be forgiven for my lapse in manners.

At Altnafeadh I had my fifth and last sock change. Although I was told there was nothing to see, I knew the ball of my left foot was developing a blister, and the right one had a hot spot too. I wasn’t too worried though getting this far without any real damage to my feet, besides a touch of trench foot, was good going. I wouldn’t go so far as saying I like blisters but heading into the second night with no sleep a bit of hot, sharp, jaggy, superficial pain certainly helps to stop you falling asleep in the vertical position!

I enjoyed the stomp up the Devil’s Staircase, with the zigzags the head torches ahead and behind looked closer than they were. Over the top my legs were still quite supple as I hopped across the boulders in the dark, I was complimented on my balance from a bloke behind me, I put it down to my arm waving technique. Lesley was great company and often made me laugh, more than once she said, “Don’t follow me, I’m ankle deep!” The quad killing descent to Kinlochleven didn’t seem to take as long as I remembered and it wasn’t long until we were in the bright lights of the Community Centre, it was a novelty using a proper lavvy, Julie weighed me and my crew got my stuff ready, then someone else’s support asked me if I would like some chicken noodle soup. “Thanks, yes, that would be lovely.” He handed me a big pot and a spoon. I was fine with that, ultra runners don’t have table manners, a table, or a bowl either. The only problem I did have was I thought it would be awfully rude to run away with his pot and spoon, my support know I don’t do stand still but he didn’t.
A quote from my instruction sheet - At all checkpoints I will always either walk or run through, I won’t stand and wait for anything, hopefully I won’t change my mind from my what I have on my requirement sheet but if I have you can catch me up. (Stop time is dead time and I don’t do dead!)
So I stood and shovelled in the braw soup while swivelling my hips bending my knees and prancing about as if I was burstin’ fur a pee. Also I was in the Race Doc’s house, standing still causes the blood to pool in your legs, I waznae risking the fainty thing!

It wasn’t long before I headed back out with Robin and Gillian for company, we ditched the head torches, bloody hell, don’t think I’ve headed up towards the Lairig Mor with the promise of daylight before. Not to worry, a finish is a finish.

Up the hill I had several flashbacks, from more traumatic years and also from supporting Pauline too, I knew there was no doubt I’d get to Fort William, even at Mingavie. I have a Magnus Magnusson philosophy,” I’ve started so I’ll finish.” Am I tough/stupid/pig-headed/lucky? Yes, definitely!

Lairig Mor was another slog, but with Robin and Gillian’s company I was pulling it in, I had a roll with ham and cheese, it was going stale in my hand, I took wee bites, it was rolling around in my mouth, I needed to eat, I was trying to force it in, it wasn’t what I wanted. Robin gave me his cereal bar, I managed half of it but it was like eating cardboard. I needed fuel but what? (With hindsight, I’m taking a Slimfast shake for next year)

The Wilderness Response Teams were brilliant, they offered loads of practical support but more importantly, peace of mind, I thought I’d be ok but it was very reassuring they were there.

At Lundvara I got a Mocha-coffee and some shortbread. That gave me the boost I needed, and I storming up the hill from Lundavara waiting for my support to catch me up, a wee touch of déjà vu. Without checking my old stories, I haven’t a Scooby if it was Pauline or Val that was chasing me with my mug of coffee a few years ago but it gave me a giggle that it was happening again. Lundavara although around 6 miles of fiendish up and downs was the finish straight. I could smell the malt in the Quaich!

The sun was up and shining brightly, I lost the rain jacket and my sleeves were pushed up, I couldn’t be bothered taking off the waterproof breeks although my legs were roasting. We were heading up through the woods, I looked up and saw a wood nymph flitting through the trees at an absurd pace, she came closer, I wasn’t hallucinating, wood nymphs don’t wear Scotland shorts and crop tops or give me the biggest, cheeriest, enthusiastic congratulatory hug I’ve ever had. Robin was jealous, it was Lucy, fresh from a night sleep after supporting Richie. (Patience Robin, next year!!!)

Gillian had the get out clause at Lundavara but what a trooper, she stayed with me all the way to the end. On the wide forest track, we saw someone coming towards us wearing a Carnegie top, was it Sue or Julie? Julie, thank you, a very welcome friendly face, your words brought my emotions to the fore, I tried to stifle the lump in my throat and my tears, I’m not afraid to show emotion but it gets in the way of breathing. The Glory Mile was approaching, it doesn’t matter how many times I’ve done this or the time it takes, PB or PW it’s still an achievement. I will never ever forget how lucky I am. I am proud of what I have achieved. 32 hours 17 minutes. I finished.

I have a fine crystal goblet that is no less special than any of the others. I will never do the “what went wrong analysis”. I was there, upright, outside and running, I never believe things go wrong anyway, they may not have gone according to the original plan but I am in a privileged position, I have my health and can put one foot in front of the other. A bonus only a few can savour.

Gillian supervised my shower then it was straight to breakfast, sitting still, tucking into bacon and eggs I finally had the decency to look tired,

I felt as if my body was still going at ninety miles an hour, I looked at my hands expecting them to be shaking but they weren’t, I felt I might’ve fainted but I didn’t . After loads of big sighs I began to feel a bit more like myself.

The prizegiving is a wonderful event in itself, every ones race is captured and condensed in that slow shuffling moment of glory collecting their Goblet.

My eighth and slowest WHW race, I’m not disappointed, it was tough but not traumatic, I didn’t feel the need to push hard for the sake of finishing slightly faster. If there is a pattern to my finishing times I’ve been progressively faster for my first four WHW’s then progressively slower for the next four, all I can say is for the next four years I’ll be getting faster again, so in 2015 Kate, Sharon and Debs should watch their backs! Yeah, I’m laughing too. I might just make the cut-offs by the skin of my teeth but as long as I’m upright and moving forward I’ll be there. I have a lot to celebrate.

None of this is possible without a brilliant support crew, I apologise for my inadequacy to put into words my gratitude. You are all very special, I get the glory and the goblet, you get a Buff scarf and bags under your eyes!
Mel's photos
My support's photos
This was Mel’s first year supporting and she’s now hooked, her diary is marked for the weekend 23rd June next year. We did warn her that doing support is the slippery slope to running the race, she made huge protests. Aye, right we believe you, I said the same myself about ten years and eight goblets ago! As the way of great support next year Sue and Robin are planning to run so Pauline and I have lost support again and Sue and Robin will be looking for support too so we are recruiting now. Form an orderly queue, all applicants should have a sense of humour, a strong stomach and believe that sleep is superfluous!

Isle of Skye half marathon

2011-06-13T22:05:00.000Z

Ok, it is technically a race but since it’s always the week before the WHW I haven’t given the Skye half loads of welly for years. It’s just a good excuse to go up and have great weekend and a leg stretch. This was my 14th Skye half and it is my favourite, we’ve been going up for it since 1993. I only do two halfs a year now, Skye and Glen Clova. The most I’ve done in one year is 17 in 1993 starting with Inverness in March and finishing with Glen Clova in November. This years Skye was my 107th half marathon.

It’s a lovely route, not an easy one though, a bit of steady climbing in the first few miles, some downs, flats and undulations until the long climb at 10 but it’s all open stunning scenery and the finish is all down hill. Since last year it’s now a standard 13.1 miles but it used to be 13.8 miles, I liked that unique quirkiness and was a little disappointed that it conformed.

Pauline and I ran together, a nice controlled pace finishing in 2.03.07 hrs, about 40 seconds faster than last year, we’re nothing if not consistent! The weather was beautiful, clear blue skies, hardly any wind and not a midgie! It couldn’t have been better… but it was! This year’s race memento was a wee engraved glass and a miniature of Talisker, my favourite. (It’s going in my hip flask to share with an Angel at the top of the loch next week.)

In the afternoon Pauline and I bought a picnic at the Co-op and headed off to Kilt Rock and The Quiraing and had a wee stroll, we weren’t planning anything big, Pauline was wearing pavement shoes!

In the evening it was lovely to catch up with the Sheffield crew, we meet up regularly… in the Tongadale, Skye half weekend.

Sunday was a slow drive home, the weekend was over already, but we stayed in holiday mode for a bit longer, a wee leg stretch at Sligachan, then a detour for an ice-cream in Plockton and another short walk to a viewpoint above the village.

“Kemosabe! It’s a short arse female with size 7 Saucony and very little intelligence!”

Well, if I had a bit more sense I would’ve been watching where I was walking!

Here's more photos, I did get a few good ones, even if I say so myself.

Robin Wombill's Fling report

2011-05-16T17:42:00.000Z

Robin sent me his race report and is happy to share.

The Highland Fling 30/04/11

This was to be my ‘target’ ultra for 2011. For various reasons I never really had a rest period over the winter. I trained hard for the Water of Leith at the end of November but both Anne and I had rotten colds and we woke on race day to a covering of snow in Perth. We knew the journey to Edinburgh probably wouldn’t be possible so WoL was cancelled for us. As I was so fit it seemed silly to just waste it all and so I carried on so that I could start my Fling training in late December with a good level of fitness and endurance. This winter that meant lots of running in the snow, so all I did was run in my Asic Trabuco trail shoes instead of road shoes. The training went pretty well but I hate the periods I get during my training when it all seems to be hard work and I always feel tired, then out of the blue it all seems to come together and my performance suddenly matches my expectations. I did the D33 as part of my training and was really happy with the run. I’ve never done a long flat race and just didn’t know what to expect or how to pace myself so I cheated and ran with Sue Walker as she’s so good at pace – and a great mate who I enjoy being with. I had no idea what to expect and would’ve been happy with 12 minute miles, so to come home in 5:53 at sub 11 minute pace was fine by me. I even managed a local 6k Fun Run the next day.

With 4 weeks to go I had one of those awful weekends. I had a 28 and a 10 planned. I did the 10 on Saturday not the Sunday as I felt a bit jaded. On the Sunday I attempted the 28 and went from Kirkmichael to Blairgowrie and back along the Cateran Trail. It was just dreadful, I had no energy and was thoroughly miserable and eventually cut the run short to 25.5. I got home and had all these worries that I’d overtrained because I didn’t have a rest period during the winter. So, I took the week off. My next run was the following weekend, a favourite that I do every year, Glencoe to Fort William. Lochaber is one of Anne’s favourite marathons and she runs it just about every year and every time on the way up on the Saturday she kicks me out of the car at Glencoe Ski Centre and I meet her in the Premier at Fort William. I had an extra reason to run it this year. I had a ghost to put to bed. I wanted to run without falling over near Lundrava as I did in last year’s Devil. I just love the route and the weather was fine and I had a great time – until I got to Lundrava and fell again, twice ! I don’t know what upset me the most, the fact that I had fallen again, despite being very careful, the cuts and bruises or the £52 pair of skins that I wrote off. I was fed up – but I ran well and enjoyed it and all thoughts of overtraining were banished. It was also funny as I had a big tin of sweets and a ‘thank you’ letter in the car for the A&E staff at the Belford for stitching me up last August. I limped in with them on the Sunday and they were really grateful and then asked me why I was limping. I just said ‘don’t ask’ and rapidly left. It did make me decide to wear neoprene knee supports in ultras, not because I have knee problems but as protection. It also demolished a nasty raised scar on my left knee ( a legacy of 2010 ) and now I have a much neater ‘hole’.

I resumed my training with new heart and got a big boost 9 days before the Fling when I entered the club’s annual 10 mile handicap race. I made my time estimate and set off at my allotted time – and ran like a man possessed to come home first ! I have a huge trophy to prove it.

And now, my first Fling. I couldn’t cheat this time and use Sue’s pacing and planning skills as she wasn’t running. So I tried my best with other people ! Firstly my support crew of Anne my wife and good friends Iain and Fiona Morrison were wonderful as always and I wonder how they put up with me when I’m tired and irrational. Iain got up at 2 am to drive me to Milngavie, and instead of going straight home waited at Drymen to see me through. Then he went home, picked up Anne and Fiona and drove to Bein Glas and dropped Anne off so she could run south and meet up with me.

Anyway, I digress, my first Fling. I never managed to run any of the route before the race so I looked at other peoples times for last year and using maps showing ascent figures made some guesstimates. I geusstimated 4 hours to Balmaha, 6 to Rowardennan, 8 to Inversnaid and 10 to Bein Glas farm, leaving me 4 hours to get to Tyndrum to achieve my hoped for 14 hours. My nerves were better than last year’s Devil and I got quite a bit of sleep during the day on Friday and during the short night. When I wasn’t sleeping on Friday I think I was eating and probably started the race getting on 11stone ! I knew it would be hot and I’m not good in the heat so filled my hydration bladder with Nuun and tried to mentally prepare for a tough race. We were soon off and I ran with Fiona Rennie at first. I knew it would only be to Balmaha, at most, as I pussy foot around at checkpoints and she doesn’t. By that I mean that I stop to eat - remember I’m a man and I can’t run and eat at the same time ! Of course at two miles I went flat on my face, with loads of witnesses. I can tell you that the knee supports worked but I did land bang on the injured left knee and it did make my eyes water. Pete Humphreys said ‘hello’ as he went past at about 17 miles which is amazing to me as he’d started an hour after me. I don’t remember seeing any other runners I know going past me apart from Gail later on. Going up Conic Hill wasn’t too bad but coming down was scary. I got to Balamaha in just under 4 hours loaded up with some banana flavoured Slimfast, a pot of Ambrosia rice and a jelly with fruit in it. I topped up my hydration pack and set off again. At some point I met up with two Stonehaven girls Fiona Smith and Nicola Rhind who I ran many miles with at the D33 and we ran some more miles together. I left them before Rowardennan and I know this as there were no witnesses when I had my second fall ! I think it was a moment’s lapse of concentration and I was down. Again the knee supports worked but I cut my left hand. I was right by the water so stopped at a small inlet to clean up the hand. The water was clear but full of black bits so I went to some rocks where it looked cleaner and deeper. I squatted on the rocks and discovered they were slippery and I slowly slid into the loch ! I was sitting in about 9 inches of water washing my hand when some southern walkers came round the corner. I got a chorus of ‘you ‘avin a barf mate?’ That got me running again. I was soon in Rowardennan for checkpoint 2 in a shade over 6 hours. More food and a hydration pack top up and off again. Not long after this I linked up with Becky Munro and Carla Cesaroni and managed to stay with them until I met up with Anne at about mile 38, at which point the girls were pulling away from me. They were brilliant, Becky was from Inverness and I asked her if she’d done the Loch Ness Marathon ‘ Oh no, I’ve only ever done a half marathon before this ‘. Carla had come from Toronto for the race expecting Scotland to be cool not in the midst of a heatwave. Becky generally lead and Carla and I followed. I found the ‘technical’ bits alongside the loch fun but hard because they seemed to go on forever. When they finally finished and I got back on to something I could run on I no longer had any energy left. Anne met me about mile 38 as Becky and Carla were pulling away and we got through to Bein Glas in 10:34. Plenty of time to walk to the finish, which was good as my plans fell apart as I started to throw up. I couldn’t refuel and couldn’t really stop heaving so decided to carry on as best I could with Anne. I walked up the hills and managed some Nuun, flat coke and a jelly with fruit in it but couldn’t face gels or anything that tasted remotely synthetic so I didn’t get many calories on board. Finally at Derrydaroch Farm it all fell apart completely. I just couldn’t go on. I could hardly put one foot in front of the other and could only mumble. I cannot describe how I felt and couldn’t understand how I suddenly deteriorated into such a state. My mind was still working and I could still picture Sophie with the orange smoke stick going over the finishing line ( from the web site) and I still replaced Sophie with me. I slumped on a rock and thought that my body just wasn’t going to let me finish. Iain and Fiona had appeared and Fiona was encouraging me. I sent them away ( I hope politely ). Two blokes went past, one was attempting a shuffling run and the other one looked quite like me. This may have helped, I think I thought ‘ if he can I can ‘. I got Anne to pull me off the rock and I tried to get going again. I managed a pathetic walk/stagger and when we finally bypassed Crianlarich and stopped climbing all the time things got a bit better and I even managed some runs (about 100 yards at a time). We met Iain and Fiona where the WHW crosses the A82 and Fiona joined us to run me to the finish. When we got to the Auchtertyre Lodges I recognised where I waited for Fiona Rennie at last year’s WHW race. I didn’t know where the route went or what it was like but I knew it wasn’t far and that I was going to finish in under 15 hours. The running became more than 100 yards at a time and when Anne noticed a road sign beside the A82 announcing that you were entering Tyndrum spirits really began to rise. Suddenly there was a wall and a gate ( I think – well there was in my head ) and cheering people and we were there. I thought everybody would’ve gone home by the time I arrived and it took me a bit to realise all this noise was for me and I felt guilty because I’d done so much walking. A nice touch was that Neil MacRitchie was waiting to log my chip at the finish line after I logged him lapping the North Inch at the recent 100k race.

I know it’s still very much a learning process for me and I don’t have any hidden ability that’s suddenly going to appear from nowhere, so I don’t expect to get much faster, but I do want to work on my refuelling so that I enjoy the events more and save some time. Again, like the Devil, I estimated my running time and forgot about the time I lose at checkpoints. My estimates weren’t bad until Bein Glas and even my last one of allowing 4 hours to get to Tyndrum wasn’t too far out ( despite the state I was in ). If I can stop falling over as well that’d be a nice bonus !

The Montane Highland Fling 2011

2011-05-08T10:36:00.000Z

Pauline picked me up at 4.00am and we were in Milngavie just after 5.00am. The sun was just up too and the sky looked clear, it was going to be a cracking day, it also seemed a bit weird seeing Milngavie in daylight.

I wasn’t nervous, I just don’t do nerves before a race, even though today I wasn’t “racing” my goal was purely a no pressure day out just to get to Bein Glas before the cut off. Although I put no pressure on myself for a time, I was still bit concerned though, my tendon which has been recovering has felt a bit tight and tender for the past week, whatever happens DNF will never be an option and I could be in for a very long painful day. I know I will never ever give up no matter what, there have been races where I aimed high but didn’t get the goal I was going for and the bonus is I’ve learnt a lot more from the tough races. I did have a cunning solution, I put two sets of Sorbothane in my shoes, I am a girly I can do high heels! My lack of training didn’t worry me too much either, it does no harm at all practicing how to run tired and sore. I had entered the Fling a fortnight ago just to have a day out in my favourite place and I wasn’t going to let that be spoiled by trivialities!

Murdo’s race briefing was perfectly brief. “There are no rules just tell someone if you pull out and ENJOY!” Damn right Murdo, that’s my plan!

6.00am the old gits and girlies were off. I was running WHW pace and rules, I was aware of my tendon, it wasn’t getting any worse and in a few more miles I knew that my quads will probably be whinging louder so it wasn’t going to stop me. I was running with Robin, he was a bit wary of falling after his bad one at last years Devil O’ the Highlands, at around two miles in it was a mere formality, he was down and up barely breaking stride. I said “Well, there you go, that’s got that out of the way then, you can relax now!”

Heading up towards Conic Hill the sun was shining, but the wind was quite chilly, I still hadn’t taken off my gloves. It was a beautiful, perfect day, I kept whipping out my camera, I told Robin to stop as I took a photo of him with the loch in the background, two fast guys, I presume, from the 7.00am start stopped and said “Shall I take a photo of you both?” I protested saying I didn’t want to hold him back. He waved his arms wide at the scenery and replied “Nah! This is what today’s about!”

At the top of Conic the view of the Loch Lomond was stunning, another wee pause for photies and we headed down. Pauline appeared, she’d ran out from Rowardennan, besides being my chauffer, she was sticking in a few miles having a fun day too, Pauline's photos she enjoyed running towards everyone but wished she had a pound for every time she heard “You’re going the wrong way!”

Out of the wind on approaching the woods I finally took off my gloves, arm warmers and buff scarf. At Balmaha, Davie pointed me towards my drop bag, Robin and I parted company here, he stopped to eat, I walked on with my rice pudding, Pauline had a wee blether with Helen before catching me up.

I love the section heading towards Rowardennan, the ups, the downs, the woods, the view of the loch, the wee beach and… (I’ll shut up ‘cause if you’ve been here you know what I’m on about.) Jim Rogers from a later start caught us up, he and Pauline chatted off to Rowardennan.

At Rowardennan I swapped my backpack for my older one that I had ready, with its bladder filled just to pick up with no faffing, except I decided to ditch the rain jacket and put in my arm-warmers, gloves and extra buff scarf instead then trotted off. I had just tucked my empty milkshake bottle into my bag then had a wee backpack malfunction, my shoulder strap came loose, the stitching had come undone where it joined the bottom of the bag, a wee walk as I tied the adjustment strap though a loop where the waist strap is attached. It was as good as new, no need to replace old faithful yet.

It was a lovely warm afternoon with wall to wall sunshine, I don’t think I’ve seen the loch so blue, I didn’t bother with a drop bag at Inversnaid but stopped for a few mouthfuls of cold water which was refreshing as my juice was warm. A few folk were complaining that it was too hot, but sympathy has no place in ultras, “If you’re too hot you’re going too fast!” was my reply. I looked at my watch, (I wasnae doing race splits just time of day,) it was just after 2.00pm. Brilliant, around two hours running until Bein Glas I’ll get there at the back of 4.00pm, loads of time before the cut off at 6.00pm.

On the rough path my quads were feeling sore, I put it down to a lack of training but I suppose nearly 40 miles probably contributed too. At one big steppy bit a cheery walker heading south waved me forward, I looked up at the gigantic step and joked I might need a pulley. He held out his hand for me, I think I must be lighter than I look or he’s stronger than he looked, both feet left the ground as he hauled my stekky legged body up the boulders. I thanked him and hoped the hand up wasn’t considered cheating. Along the narrow path I was always looking back over my shoulder so I could get out of the way of faster folk, there were loads of encouragement from everyone that went by except for a few runners, when they approached I spoke to them, I was totally blanked, they had their earphones in, and not even a grunt of acknowledgement as they went by. Each to their own I suppose but it did sadden me a bit to think of what they were missing out on, I’m not adverse to listening to music when running but the WHW is a route with its own inspirational sound track, the wind in the trees, the waves of the loch, the babbling burns, the birds, I heard a few cuckoos, I don’t get them in my garden! My consoling thought was that real ultra runners are never so insular or anti-social or at least real WHW runners aren’t! Mind you, one guy made up for the few ignorant gits, as he was passing me he looked and said “Fiona?” I answered “Yeah!” he took my by surprise by sticking out his hand to shake mine. “Legend!” he said “Love the blog!” I have never been called a legend before. I kept repeating “Legend” in my head and having a wee giggle to myself for quite a few miles. Thanks Peter that made my day.

I was quite warm during the hottest part of the day but never uncomfortably hot and didn’t feel the need to take off one of my two tops I was wearing, a vest and a short sleeved top. I liked the thought that the heat kept my quads warm and supple, if they got cold it would’ve been so much harder to move fluidly. (A wee tip if you struggle in the heat – Run warm in winter. Wear lots of layers and keep them on even when you’re feeling toasty. If you’re down to skin in the spring what can you peel off when it really warms up!)

I thought about taking some painkillers but I’d have to stop hanging onto the boulders to do it so, I decided I’d wait until the after the flat grassy bit and see how the legs felt once they got back to proper running… no need, to quote Mark Cooper, motion is lotion! It wasn’t long until I was looking up to Dario’s post, at the top of the hill I got out my wee hip flask, I’ve been by his post a few times now and I’ve always had my hip flask, I wasn’t breaking with tradition because it was a “race”, I spent a minute or two sharing a wee Isle of Jura with Dario before carrying on to Beinn Glas.

With it being so warm I’d drank most of my juice, but I wasn’t concerned, it wasn’t in the original plan but I’ll top up with water at Beinn Glas. Neil MacR helped me filled my bladder and then I trotted off. Oh bugger! With concentrating on topping up with water I forgot to pick up my milkshake, I only put out two drop bags, my rice pud at Balmaha and a milkshake at Bein Glas, a fail by 50%, not to worry, I wasn’t going back for it, I was carrying plenty grub by the way of Rice Krispie squares and cereal bars, I wouldn’t starve and anyone who was behind me were welcome to it.

Tim and I were plodding away together, although he was moving faster on the run-able bits than I was, I did say to him not to prolong his day and to bash on, he answered he was happy to have the company, cheers Tim I enjoy our blether and at Derrydarroch weren’t we both “I Spy” champions! Pauline appeared near Carmyle Cottage, she wasn’t doing support as such but I spied she had a SlimFast in her backpack (See, I am a champion at the game.) I mentioned that I was a numpty and forgot to pick up the milkshake I placed at the checkpoint. She offered me her milkshake, I didn’t refuse. It’s the first time I’ve had a SlimFast, it went down well, I usually just pinch the kid’s Yazoo!

Pauline and Tim were blethering away from me most of the time and as they pulled away from me again on the first big climb of the rollercoaster, Tim laughed at the sisterly concern. Pauline had shouted “Come on, keep up!”
“Aye, I’m comin’!”

On the last big swoop of the rollercoaster Tim descended never to be seen again. My thoughts compared this to the descent into Kinlochleven, ok, my quads were squealing a bit, but I thought again, I haven’t lost two nights sleep or have eighty miles in my legs. Stop wussin’ and get on with it!

Pauline was wearing a Garmin and told me that if I didn’t dither about I would finish under 14 hours, I said I wasn’t planning on prolonging the end but neither would I push so hard that I’d throw up at the finish, I wouldn’t be disappointed if my time was 14.02 because that was the couple of minutes I gave to Dario and I didn’t grudge them.

After crossing the road I found my running rhythm and kept it all the way, finishing in 13.53.49.

Photo by Allan Harley
I picked up my t-shirt and bottle of bubbly then polished off what was left in my hip flask. What a brilliant day, I loved every minute. Physically I wasn’t at my best but that is irrelevant when you run with a happy heart. My body might be a wee bit drained, that is just temporary. My heart and soul are fully charged.

The West Highland Way is very special to me and has shaped my character and given me strength over the years. Long may it do so.

Here we, here we, here we Flingin’ go!

2011-04-25T11:09:00.000Z

Last Monday I posted my entry for the Highland Fling, it followed my longest run of the year on the Sunday, 22 miles at a sedate pace on a lovely sunny afternoon. So far this year I’ve only had two 13 mile runs on the WHW, two 16 milers and one 17 mile run on my local routes. I’m not panicking, my muscles have a good memory! Besides I’m not racing, just heading out for a day in my comfort zone with family.

Today I see my name’s on the start list so I’ll start thinking about a "race plan", I’ve never ran either of the half Way races but I’ve never missed a Devil O’ the Highlands and always managed to be some runner’s groupie. Last year I really enjoyed my leg in the Fling relay and supporting all the other runners.

I don’t really care what time I do I’ve got 15 hours to play with and as a Fifer I don’t like to see waste, I may use them all, I’ve just checked my WHW splits for Tyndrum and the fastest I’ve gone through is 13 hours 37 mins. As a rough guide that will do for a goal.

I expect I’ll choke a bit on the dust from all the other girlies and old gits as they thunder off at the 6.00am start, but it would be nice to have bit of encouragement from the rest of the Flingers as you whoosh past me. There were a few memorable words spoken at last years Fling from the Pirate to his lady love, I found them so inspiring I had them printed on a T-shirt along with an Aussie acronym.
Feel free to shout them at me as you go by.

(as modelled by a couple of Scottish Ultras finest)

“The Ba’s burst fur the big yin!”

2011-04-09T21:53:00.001Z

"The ba's burst fur the big yin!" Crawford’s words to me when he first felt pains in his legs at the end of January, the GP optimistically thought it could be rheumatism but I think Crawford had a gut feeling, the leukaemia was back. He was admitted to the Queen Margaret on Feb 11th it was confirmed and he was moved to the hospice ward. He had a sense of humour throughout that still had Mum, me and the nurses laughing. He wasn’t eating and was disappearing before our eyes; one of his sons, Andrew arrived from Australia a week ago.

On Monday he looked weary, he had an infection. Tuesday the hospital called Mum, they were concerned about him. We got there at about 11.30am he had deteriorated fast, we stayed by his bedside all day, Andrew went away to inform his aunt and uncle. Pauline arrived in the evening and Andrew came back we were all there at night, Mum was holding his hand, he knew she was there, looking into her eyes, she was reminiscing, the picnic when they forgot the sandwiches, the drive to Arbroath just to buy Smokies, the walks on Aldinga Beach (Oz) His breathing stopped being laboured, the frown on his brow disappeared, listening to my Mum he passed peacefully at 10.30pm.

Yesterday, I spent the afternoon with Mum, again at Queen Margaret, she couldn’t walk, her right leg was excruciating, she couldn’t bare weight on it or walk, with her health history, (terminal cancer) they admitted her, did some tests, bloods, ECG an MRI scan, she asked would she be able to get out for the funeral on Wednesday. My gut instinct was that because she’d spent Tuesday perched on a plastic chair it was “just” nerve/muscular pain. She does have tumours on her spine but the results showed “no change” so they let her go home.

While we were at the hospital waiting for the results, we were in a side room, a lady came in and asked what Mum would like for tea, we weren’t sure if was she staying in or going home? She wasn’t sure, I said have something because if she was staying she wouldn’t get something until I brought it in later, this was her only chance to eat. I was also offered something. If we didn’t eat it, it would go into the waste, ok, we’ll have a baked tattie with tuna then! Mum made me smile. She said “Don’t ever say I don’t take you out for something to eat!” My return was “Anything for an afternoon off work!”

Today we were going through what music we’ll have on Wednesday, Pauline has sorted a Piper, so Highland Cathedral and The Dark Island are definite. Knowing Crawford’s humour we joked about stuff like You cannae shove yer Granny aff a Bus and the Bluebell Polka, (he used to play it on the accordion)

How else should a guy behave if he hasnae seen a Scottish winter in about 40 years!

Crawford was a great guy who made my Mum giggle like a school girl, they had a just a few years together but they were precious.

Gail's Anglo-Celtic Plate report

2011-03-31T21:09:00.000Z

PERTH 100K/ACP 2011 RACE REPORT

At the end of 2010 my plan for next year was to train hard for London. Then I got the call from Adrian to say I’d been selected for Scotland again in the Anglo Celtic Plate, which would take place 3 weeks before London. I couldn’t say no. It’s an honour to be selected to run for your country and I had unfinished business with the 100K. And it was in Perth, on my doorstep. How could I say no?. I also felt in my heart of hearts that it was likely to be the last time I would be selected for Scotland.

So I focused on the 100K for from December. I trained harder than I ever had before, doing my highest mileage and back to back long runs, or long runs on a Friday and Sunday, with a race in between. I’d never done back to backs before and they were tough, physically and mentally. And if they were good enough for Richie, they were good enough for me. By the time of the race I felt as fit as I’d ever felt to do a 100K race. I wanted to get sub 9 hours and I wanted a PB. There was nothing I could do about any other runners’ performance so I just concentrated on doing what I could do for myself. Bearing in mind I was running for a team and I wanted to do my best for the team too. I hoped that with more runners in the race this time it would pull me on and help me get the most out of myself.

I didn’t feel too bad in the build up to the race. Plenty distractions like Lynsey’s birthday, supporting Steven and my pals running the D33. Then the proper taper week before the race. I hate it. Too much time to think. Too much time to eat. Too much time to get grumpy. I didn’t feel too nervous till the Saturday night when the distractions had gone and all I had to look forward to was getting up at some ungodly hour of the morning. I wasn’t even hungry for my mega carbo-loading meal the night before. That’s unheard of for me. I think I was making Steven nervous.

Anyway, after a fairly fitful night of catnapping I got up at 4.50am – that’ll be in the middle of the night, and had a decent bowl of cereal – again not hungry for. Then got organised to leave. Normally before ultras I spend ages attending to my feet – previously covering them in ££s worth of compeeds or taping them up as I have a terrible problem with blisters. But this year my feet had been good on training runs with just smothering them in Vaseline, so that’s what I did. As we drove to Perth the light was coming up. By the time we arrived, about 6.20am it was very misty but light enough to see. I saw Ken and Sue, who had slept, or rather tried to sleep in the tent overnight. They were chirpy as usual. Then Izzy appeared and give me a big hug. It was great to see her in good spirits. Then I started to see the rest of the team and support. Debbie looked pretty nervous. Sharon was positively chipper. I met Craig and Thomas for the 1st time and it was good to catch up with familiar faces from previous ultras and ACPs. There was a great expectant atmosphere with all the Anglo Celtic teams setting up their pitches with their flags. I left Steven to sort out all our “stuff” and there wasn’t long to get ready, but long enough. After a quick team photo (we’ll need to airbrush Izzy in later) we were off.

I was planning just to run as I felt. Comfortable for as long as possible. Maybe aim for 8 min mile pace which equated to 11.50 min laps. If I was quicker and comfortable I wasn’t going to slow down. If I was slower I wasn’t going to panic. I certainly wasn’t going to chase anyone. There were far too many good runners in the field to do that and I was going to run my own race. I ran the 1st couple of laps close to Sharon and Izzy, with Debbie and Pauline not far behind. Then I settled down for a few laps to run and have a good chat with Sharon. Now I know why Debbie loves her as a training partner. It passed the time well and was a good distraction from the next 8 hours which were looming ahead. Sharon said at one point to go ahead. I had no desire, intention or ability to go ahead! I was quite comfortable thank you very much! After a while Sharon held back and the rest of the race I pretty much ran on my own.

I had decided to change my fueling strategy for this race. I’d had problems with being sick in previous races and wanted to try and take in as much energy as possible early doors. In the past I’ve relied on gels at the beginning of the race then tried to eat later, which has been difficult to stomache. This time I wanted to try the opposite. After the 1st hour I planned to eat a bit of nutrigrain bar with jam – to make it moist and easier to go down. After 5 laps I passed through the checkpoint where Steven was waiting for me with the said nutrigain bar. “do you want it now?” he shouted. “No” I shouted as I ran past “I’ll take it after the 1st hour”. “That is an hour, you muppet” he shouted back as I sped off into the distance. How time flies when you’re having fun! From then on I tried to stick to my eating plan of drinking a few sips of Go every lap with a bit of banana or nutrigrain bar every ½ hour. I did OK for the 1st 3 hours, had a gel, then just shouted out what I fancied, when I fancied it after that. I thought I stuck fairly well to my plan. Steven may disagree. I had quite a few gels, closer to half hourly, compared to hourly in the past. I had a slimfast over 2 laps. The caffeine gels kicked in pretty well. I had quite a bit of flat coke which went down well. I did dry heave a few times towards the end of the race, but there was no real threat of actually being sick.

I passed though the marathon distance at 3 hrs 27 and the 50K at 4hr 07 which I was really pleased about. That gave me a boost.

As the race progressed I heard that Sharon had had to drop out because of stomach problems. I was so disappointed for her as I knew she’d be gutted. It’s not something you have any control over. I had been wondering where she was as I genuinely expected her to be the 1st Scottish lady in the race. I lapped Debbie at one point but never saw Izzy at all. She was either keeping and maintaining her distance or just plain avoiding me! In the latter stages of the race, maybe with 10-12 laps to go I was slowing down. Just so tired. Then Debbie came flying passed me. I wanted a bit of whatever she had just had. I could summon no response whatsoever. She was getting further and further away from me and all I could think of was I wonder how many laps it will take before she catches me. I was resigned to it. But I wasn’t giving up. I was pleased for her and thought you go for it girl. I just need to keep going. And by the way, where is Izzy? She must be out there somewhere but I’m not going to turn round. If she’s on my tail I’ll hear her Stevie shout his encouraging words. Every lap I did, I thought of Izzy as I ran over the “HBT” written in sand on the ground and “Go Izzy”. I pretended I was running for HBT and that it was meant for me!.

After a few laps I saw Debbie in the distance and I was catching her. There was no race for position in the full race as the Welsh and English ladies were flying, but I began to think about the Scottish Championship title. And I had a time to chase. I knew a PB was a possibility if I could keep going but I had to maintain my position to retain my title. I had won it last year but really by default. I wanted to earn it this year. I was so tired I was having to stop and walk to take my gels but I kept moving. Steven would say all the right things to motivate me to start running again. Tommy was at the start line telling me how many laps I had to go. So important at this stage to be able to count down and pull the finish in. Pauline, on the run was brilliant, telling me how well I was doing, and just saying all the right things at the right time. You’d think she’d been there and done it before….. So selfless when running her own race. All the other runners were so encouraging to each other. It was great to see the guys push on and lap me for the hundredth time it felt. But they never failed to encourage you. The 50 K runners gave us a boost as they joined us. They were allowed to lap us and seemed impressed by the efforts of the 100K runners. I kept looking out for Lynne in the 50K but only saw her before she started and after she finished her race. I thought she’s been kidding me on that she ran it but I guess the photos show otherwise! As I passed through the checkpoint yet again and it was great to see Lynne, Morna and Judith holding up their prizes after they’d finished. And they stayed on to cheer the rest of us on to our finish.

As I got to the last 4 laps I hoped I could get by on flat coke and planned to try and not stop at all from now on. I knew I wasn’t going fast but I was moving forward. 2 laps to go and Steven and Scott were shouting at me – “less than a 5K to go!” I thought of my sister Lesley and the rest of the family with whom I’m doing the 5K Race for Life in June. I’ll bet they wouldn’t be thinking “ONLY 5K to go”. But I was! Keep going. The quicker you get to the finish, the quicker it will all be over. I can get my PB. I can retain the Championship title, but only if I keep going. Last lap and half way round Scott appears like a mad man waving the Saltire, shouting encouragement. It was brilliant. Coming into the home straight I saw Mum and Dad with Lynsey and Craig just arriving. I shouted to them that I was finishing. I was handed the Saltire by Val and ran the next 100 yards to cross the finish line with a big smile on my face. I’d done it. I’d achieved everything I’d wanted to and I was done. No need to do it again thank you very much!

I could hardly walk the second I’d crossed the line but what did that matter? It was one of my best running achievements and it would take a while to wipe the grin off my face.

I was so pleased to see Izzy follow closely behind with a smile on her face too, and Debbie next with a smile of relief me thinks. The guys had a great result too and it wasn’t just Adrian who was emotional during the presentation. I felt heart sorry for Sharon and also for Paul who hadn’t had a good run. It’s inevitable that some people will have insurmountable problems during an ultra. We’ve all been there. We just never know whose turn it will be next. Their time will come soon, I’m sure.

As usual, like the Oscars, we couldn’t do it without our support. Val – El Capitano, great job keeping us under control, Ken and Sue deserve a knighthood and dameship in my opinion, Scott, John (my official photographer) Fiona, Gillian and Steven (who already is a Saint). Massive thanks. Also to those who supported on the sideline and in the race- Stevie, Pauline, Helena, Angus, Lynne, Simon, Morna, Judith, Phil Alan. Team mates and their partners etc etc the list goes on. And of course Adrian and his crew.

Fab day. Not in a hurry to do it again!

STOP PRESS - A top class male athlete runs the ladies only Smokies 10!

2011-03-09T09:21:00.000Z

After about three weeks of just slightly more than zilch running I had a very gentle run up and down the hills and mud of the clubs Festive Forest at Blairadam which was postponed from December on the 26th February, it gave my duff Achilles tendon a good stretch without aggravating it, I went to the club training last week and gave a gentle effort to the sessions, my tendon was still tight, I ran cautiously but giving it a wee test, it feels loads better but I don’t want to undo any healing by battering out at the Smokies 10 also I wasn’t sure of my fitness since I’ve also had a wee chesty cough which I thought was perfect timing, if I wasn’t running due to a wee injury I might as well not be running with a wee illness at the same time, two birds with one stone so to speak.

I set off happy that what ever happened during the race it would still be better than last years painful plod with a bad back slightly spaced out on painkillers. I kept a short easy stride so as not to stress my tendon but felt I was working with a slightly higher leg turnover then my usual. I then got an image in my head of William Sichel with his easy, economical and very effective style. That’s it, I thought, I’ll do William. So I focussed on my form, keeping my posture upright and relaxed, an easy short stride with minimal movement. I didn’t push the effort but concentrated on the cadence. I’ve used this technique of adopting the style of a top runner before, many years ago while running The Two Bridges I had the long loping legs of Liz McColgan, I didn’t bother with her humfy shoulders though. It was working well until I caught my shuffle butt reflection in a bus shelter at Bo’ness and that spoiled my delusion! There are no bus shelters on the Smokies 10 route so it worked beautifully, a good steady 10 miles without stressing myself, doubt I could keep it up for another 990 miles though!

Afterwards the tea, rolls and cakes were in abundance and the goody bag was of its usual high standard, a wee bottle of wine, t-shirt, shower gel, cereal bar, crisps and a bottle of water always good value with an entry fee of around £12. I also had the bonus of a technical t-shirt as a spot prize. Pauline said that this was her 20th Smokies, I have missed a few so I think it was my 17th. A visit to Arbroath isn’t complete until we’ve stopped at the fish shop to buy Smokies for tea, a great day out.

I hope Mr Sichel doesn’t have a patent on his style, I think I’ll do a William again.

Running Wild

2011-02-23T10:39:00.000Z

Saturday was a fun day doing something I’ve never done before. I ventured west to Glasgow’s Sauchiehall Street, (awfy brave for a native of deep dark Fife!)
At the end of last summer Pete asked me if I would be a happy to be part of a film he had an idea for, I said yes, thinking it would be just Pete with a wee video camera. Well, several months later with many hours/days spent with film crew and “Once more up that hill, with feeling Dah-ling!” Pete pulling his hair out (metaphorically speaking) over Christmas working on hours and hours of stuff for editing. It came to fruition at the Glasgow Film Festival.

I am biased of course but I think he’s done a brilliant job and it got many complimentary comments afterwards. Here are some details of where it is going to be shown, also there is another showing at the King Malcolm Hotel in Dunfermline at 7.30pm Sunday 6th March courtesy of Carnegie Harriers

I am hoping to be allowed to post a link to my 16 mins of fame once all the showings are finished.

My Mum is my inspiration

2011-02-20T21:21:00.000Z

I’m kinda struggling how to start this, this is meant to be a blog about running, I have BIG goals for this year, especially September, but I’ve had a bit of a wee problem with my left Achilles but it will recover and normal service will be resumed shortly.

Family stuff has had my full attention this past week, Crawford, my Mum’s partner, after suffering a couple of weeks of pains in his legs has been taken into hospital, at the end of 2009 he was diagnosed and treated for leukaemia and has been in remission until now, it is back and has been told it maybe weeks rather than months. (He is a strong dude with a sense a humour, he will pass that.)

Mum was into her second day of a three day and her sixth cycle of chemo when we heard this news. I’ve taken her up to the Queen Margaret Hospital at every opportunity. Mum made me smile, she is coping effin brilliantly. Walking back to the car in the rain after hearing this, (I had managed to park fairly close), Mum said “Let’s walk fast, I shouldn’t get my wig wet. I should carry a wee brolly” On her 70th birthday she vowed never to wear a white polyester cardi or a rain-mate. So with a cheeky glint in my eye I said “You should keep a rain-mate in your bag.” Her sharp reply “I’ll buy a new wig first!”

She will never give in, I am proud to be my mother’s daughter.

A post about running, but not mine.

2011-02-20T11:15:00.000Z

Still haven’t done any running for a week, but I’m not worried, there has been more important stuff taking precedence. (Mum is fine but her partner Crawford is in hospital)
So here’s a post from Allan.
I liked it, hope you do too.

100km? 50km? Whatever… it’s still running!

2011-02-12T22:14:00.003Z

I wasn’t too worried about not having a long run in December with all that weather, I was pleased to keep things ticking over with the Marcothon, feeling ready to spring board straight into big miles. January was still a lot of pussyfootin’ around lingering ice but on Monday 24th I took myself out for a scamper on the WHW. I felt a wee bit guilty heading out on my own since I’ve promised some folk that the next time I headed out on the WHW I’d let them know, but I can’t resist having all that scenery to myself even if I have to face Aunty Val and her words of caution about all the “what ifs” when running solo in a remote area. I might be selfish but I love having the scenery just belonging to me, it feels so much more special that way, and being free to stop when I want to, and wandering off to take a photie without time constraints (I took a head torch but didn’t need it) or feeling like I’m holding someone else back. Besides I didn’t feel alone, I had the company of a kindred spirit. I went down the way from Derrydarroch to the wee flat grassy bit just before the hands on stuff at the top of the loch, just around 13 miles, but still around 3½ hours of “time on feet”.

It was the start of a good weeks training, Tuesday, a quality tempo, Wednesday, an easy 5 miles, Thursday, the club’s 5km time trial. I don’t usually do them since it doesn’t make any difference to me what time I do for that distance but I wanted some speed work and I thought that that would do. I worked pretty hard, legs feeling strong, breathing like an old horse, I was sucking and puffing air so hard I got spit up my nose! I was quite pleased with my run finishing a couple of minutes faster than I predicted. So after everyone’s time was read out and applauded it was time for a gentle run back up to the club. Ouchy, ouchy, my left Achilles tendon felt awfy tight and sore, it had been whinging a little lately which I put down to running in the snow, now it was screaming like a toddler who’s just dropped all their Smarties in a puddle.

That was just over a fortnight ago, I gave it ice and ibuprofen as soon as I got home, did all the usual stuff for it, rest, stretch, rest, massage, rest, more dangling it off the end of one of stairs. But I’m not stressing, nobody I know has ever died from Tendonitis, a bit of patience and it will be fine. I have been vey lucky that it’s been many years since I’ve had a running injury, my lower back gives me grief when I’m lazy and I had a wee chest infection “nicely” timed for last years WHW but apart from that I’ve been very healthy so you won’t hear me complain. I might have to have a wee change in my plan for March. I was hoping to run the open 100km at Perth, but now I’m thinking I might just do the 50km. It will be loads more sensible to run a 50km with no training than a 100km with no training.

I like running round in circles, it is so different to an awe inspiring scenic run and a test of self motivation. The lap at Perth is a good one, it flows round nicely, I do know it quite well having already ran 172 laps (just short of 79 laps in 2008, 116 miles, 22 during a training run last February 32½ miles and just over 71 laps, 105 miles last year)

Thinking back to when I first ran laps… goes and checks old training diaries. It was 1999, Pauline’s first selection for Scotland in the Anglo Celtic in Dublin, she thought it a good idea to run laps having never done so before. I joined her for a few of them.

Except from diary dated Sunday 15th May 1999

20 laps of the mile in the Glen - 3hrs 25mins
It was a warm sunny day, the first ten laps were ok, then I had to start working to keep the pace. The last five were horrible but I kept it together most of the time, I did slow down on the hills, but I worked really hard. So much so I was not well afterward, threw up and went to bed when I got home.

If you’re not native to Dunfermline the official name for the Glen is Pittencreiff Park and the Mile in the Glen race will never be a PB, it’s far too hilly. Pauline that day did Marathon distance and didn’t throw up when she got home. 1999 was my first year of running ultras and I’ve just had a big smile to myself looking back.

From little acorns…
I might be sitting here with a wee injury and my Oak tree now has a few sturdy branches but it’s still growing, there are a few more big strong branches to come.

Still plodding on

2010-12-16T10:03:00.000Z

I haven’t written anything for a while only ‘cause I haven’t done much that warrants writing about really. In November I did the Keithothon aka the original Marcothon just because I was running anyway, I only had a couple of days that I had to make an effort to go out the door, I wasn’t doing big miles so I didn’t find it too hard to complete. The hardest day was the Sunday after Glen Clova Half Marathon, I had quite a wee struggle during the race and just after half way I just felt empty, no reserves at all, and even a wee bit light headed at the end although I had eaten plenty before hand. After finishing I stopped to talk to a couple of guys I was running with but I thought I was going to faint so took a wee jog up the car park to keep my blood circulating, I got shouted at! “Don’t you know when to stop!” I just laughed, I didn’t want to explain I wasn’t showing off just trying not to faint!” I did feel a bit better after a big slab of Gordon’s Rocky Road. Then the Marcothon started, again I wasn’t planning big miles and with the snow it just added to the challenge, at first I was like a wee kid, loving it, kicking along in a wee half inch, then a couple of inches then this is getting seriously deep, every day I went out along my 5 mile Torryburn route, I took my camera, photos this is my routine run of the mill, at least once a week, all seasons, all weathers tootle but I never get fed up with it. The harder the conditions got the more I revelled in it, I couldn’t get to work for the first time ever. My car was off the road, purely my fault, I didn’t clear the snow from the roof, it was frozen on and I couldn’t reach but after a short trip it melted enough to send an avalanche down my windscreen and my bonnet take my wipers with it. The whole thingy under the bonnet needed replace. £174, I’ll get a step ladder and a pick axe next time!
Yesterday I started Christmas shopping, I’m not worried about being behind, I’ll get there in the end. Still managing the Marcothon, I’m not superstitious but the only day I’ve fallen was the 13th, it was quite a sair yin, I hit the ice hard and had to walk a few minutes waiting for the light-headedness and queasiness to pass, but I didn’t cheat, I stopped my watch while I walked.

In October I had a bit of a wobble with the thought of a hard winter but do you know what, the thought of something is worse than it actually happening. I didn’t feel the need to fill the freezer with bread, I’m still running. Winter – nae bother, there is more to come, that‘s ok, do your worst. The more challenging things become the more I’m thinking “BRING IT ON!”

Just a four and half hour run in my comfort zone… well, it was raining!

2010-10-30T22:56:00.000Z

I had Friday off work and I wasn’t going to waste it doing mundane stuff, Pete and Erin had made their own plans for the day so I made some myself. On Thursday I thought about going off for a run on the WHW but the forecast wasn’t good but that didn’t bother me. I’ve done the Devil’s Staircase in the dark with torrential rain and accompanying thunder and lightning and that didn’t worry me, well, Pauline is a wee half inch taller so if anybody was gonna get zapped it wiznae me! So some heavy drizzle in daylight wouldn’t put me off.

So when I got up on Friday and looked out the window, ok, it was raining but it wasn’t a howling gale, I’ll go. It took a bit of time for me to get ready, make some pieces and a flask and to decide what rainjacket to wear, (went for the Montane with the hood) I didn’t get to Rowardennan until just before noon. I had no goals, it wasn’t a training run just an afternoon on the WHW for its therapeutic qualities. If the NHS could bottle the WHW into tablet form it would half its waiting list!

As soon as I opened the car door and got a whiff of wet forest I knew I made the right choice for the day, the makers of air fresheners haven’t a clue!

I started very gently, my back’s been bad and still a bit tight, I did do an easy nine miles on Monday but felt like a big fat lumbering heifer. I headed towards Balmaha, the trees had laid a comfy carpet of gold for me, and branches still clung on to some of their treasure. I revelled in this autumnal beauty. I took loads of photos but they didn’t do justice to what I saw, it was a driech day but still the colours were rich.

I ran past an empty Police mini bus, wondering what they were up to, a mile or so later I met four big burly officers walking a wee cute Spaniel??? I thought that didn’t fit the usual profile of a big fierce polis pooch! It must have other qualities, if it was a sniffer dog I hoped that they didn’t put it to work, it would’ve drowned!

I had hoped to get up Conic hill, the view is worth the climb but today it wasn’t going to be such a reward and I had to keep my eye on the time, I wanted to back to Rowardennan by 5.00pm, it won’t be dark but on a dull wet day like this it won’t be very bright either. So I decided to make the marker post half way on the hill my turn around point. On the way back I shouldn’t have been surprised by the size that the puddles had grown going by the amount of rain that was bouncing off my bonce, I had a fair bit of wading but at least it wasn’t knickers deep, yes, I’ve been there and at Salochy! Ok, it doesn’t have to be a tsunami for a short arse like me to be knicker deep but shoosh! don’t tell Auntie Val I was out on my own, I got such a talking to for going out at the beginning of the year on my tod, I can just hear Val’s concerned tones “Those wet leaves covering the boulder steps! You could slip and do yourself an injury!” Well, I did do the Eeek! face once, but being a short arse with a low centre of gravity and some arm waving I was fine. I wasn't the only nutsy out, there was someone water skiing! Check my blurry photo!

I did do a bit of thinking while I was there, and plans are over-rated, what’s for me won’t go by me and winter, bring it on, I can do layers!

I'm ok

2010-10-24T21:20:00.000Z

Well, it’s Sunday, I’m on the wine but tonight is no rant from a miserable moo! Although I’ve done naff all running this week, my back has been bad, muscle spasm and the tingly pain down my left leg but I managed a sair sack o’ tatties five miler yesterday round my Crombie Point, Torryburn route. Looking across to the Ochils, the sky was clear blue and the hills had a dusting of snow, beautiful, which reminded me of a solo run I had at the beginning of the year on the WHW from Bridge of Orchy down to the Crianlarich fence and back. The Monarch and his Kingdom

Along the shore I looked back towards the Pentlands but they were dark and brooding, Grangemouth had it’s Lowrysque qualities, I was listening to an old Runrig, BBC Session Live, Glasgow ’96 and The Times They Are A Changin’ stuck a chord and I don’t just mean the seasons, although I think that the thought of a hard winter has been getting me down, I’ve worn at least one layer of long sleeves all summer as it is and the memory of last year brittle cold hasn’t faded. I embrace 80’s chic and have a selection of legwarmers at the ready!

A lot of folks are planning next years races and apart from entering the WHW race which along with Pauline I have no doubt of getting in although it is a ballot, I am a perennial optimist, Pauline will get in being a previous winner and me because I done over five. Apart from that I haven’t a Scooby what I’ll be doing and that makes me feel uneasy, I like to know what’s ahead and next year won’t give me that luxury.

Yesteday Erin and I had a lazy afternoon with Mum. Demi, my nine year old niece didn’t come, neither did Pauline, both of them having a cold and with Mum having just had her first cycle of chemo, her immune system was at zero so they did the sensible but not happy thing and stayed away. Saturday has always been Grandma day, Erin and Demi dropped off, Pauline and I going off for a long run, Mum always made a big pot of soup for when we got back.
A Grandma sandwich

Yesterday when I was running I remembered something I wrote to Mum when she was still in Australia and wasn’t sure if I’d ever see her again but I would had sold my soul, pawned Pete and Erin if necessary, although we were in constant contact by phone, it was still hard to say some stuff. I sent a card “Remember you are your daughter’s mother, and when the going get tough, the tough hold their head up so they can spit the bastard in the eye!” That was the first time I’ve ever used sweary words in front of my Mum but I think it warranted it. I had looked the Grim Reaper in the face in 2005 and spat in his eye and that was what I was referring to.

Last night I trawled through my blog reading my ramblings on the run I had at the end of January and some others, I am bloody privileged and I won’t forget it. I have had a good year and it’s time I went back out on my comfort zone. A six hour dander on the West Highland Way is what I need and as soon as I can fit it in I’ll be there.

2010-10-18T16:02:00.000Z

2010-10-17T19:22:00.004Z

I didn’t mean to have such an aggressive rant on my blog last week as I’m not an aggressive person, and normally when I drink I’m a sleepy drunk no a fightin’ one! I now look at it like I was a lioness protecting her own rather than the “What are you lookin’ at!” chip on shoulder.

But hey ho, it’s a long time since I’ve been bother by other people’s opinions so I don’t really know why I was so defensive.

I think I’ve been feeling a bit frustrated since the Perth 24 hour, I know I have nothing to prove but I know I can do better, even a fortnight afterwards I’ve been looking for another one but apart from travelling to foreign fields it’s a no go.

I have felt a bit low over the last week, but I yesterday I bounced back, I was running my usual five mile Crombie Point, Torryburn route along the Forth shore, my hamstrings are tight, my left Achilles is giving me a bit of grief, I felt like a big fat sack o’ tatties. The sun was shining, looking over to Grangemouth, the white fluffy smoke headed straight up, no wind, not what you rate as picturesque as anywhere on the West Highland Way but I always think it has L.S. Lowry qualities. I was listening to Runrig’s Long Distance, an album I haven’t listened to in ages and just recently stuck it on my ipod. It’s a salve for a weary soul, especially Hearts of Olden Glory it brought a lump to my throat as I ran but my head was up, I felt proud of who I am and my heritage. This was not an easy run but I still felt privileged I have not forgotten how lucky I am.

I am writing this also under the influence, not quite a whole bottle of wine but I’m working on it.

A bottle of wine made me say this

2010-10-10T21:27:00.002Z

A few of my friends have been extremely honest on their blogs lately. I have never been dishonest but I have kept stuff to myself. Like for instance my husband has been suffering from ME for the last seventeen years. Yes we live on Incapacity Benefit, we are not benefit cheats, although ME sufferers are apparently a prime suspect for it.

Some folks tend to judge people by their employment, I am not embarrassed of my job but I know the narrow minded do this. I know that by the rolling of the eyes and rudeness of people I come across at work. I am a Tesco checkout chick, I make stuff go beep so I must be thick.

We live in a small flat, I drive a six year old Fiat but both are paid for, we own naebudy nuthin!

I am extremely proud of my achievements, lately I have had a bit of media attention, and there is more in the pipeline. I feel a wee bit self conscious, but when I came out of hospital after having the brain haemorrhage the most common comment I came across was “Oh, I knew somebody that had a brain haemorrhage but they died!” That did bugger all for my confidence! But now I feel the more folk that know there is life after such a trauma the better. So if somebody you know is in the same predicament you can say “I know some one who had one and they are doing bloody brilliantly!”

I have written this under the influence of a bottle of wine but I stand by it, I am flaming well proud of what I have achieved and I’m not finished yet, I plan a hell of a lot more!

Monster fun

2010-10-06T21:36:00.002Z

Loch Ness marathon is a special race for me, not just because I’ve ran every one, running it in 2005 six months after having a brain haemorrhage was a big tick in the box of my recovery. This year was no less special; it still reaffirms how lucky I am to be here and have the health to run.

I put no pressure on myself to run a fast time ( fast for me) it was a month after the 24 hour race at Perth and that had taken a lot out of me, I felt my muscles have recovered but my reserves are still low, my batteries are on a trickle charge with still a fair bit to go. At Perth I went through the marathon in 4 hours 21 mins so just to be ahead of that will do me fine.

Breakfast at the B&B was at 6.00am, four hours before the race so I thought I’d be adventurous and have the cooked one after my big bowl of porridge, but not too adventurous, it was the veggie option.

The bus journey was long and uneventful but nice to sit and blether with Pauline, Julie and Marcus, the bus stopped near the start, we got ready to get off then it moved on for about half a mile before letting us off. As we tried to walk up towards the start two volunteers with our health and safety their priority, were having a very hard job trying to hold the runners back until all the buses had gone past. King Cnut had more success! I hope this hasn’t put them off volunteering again, there nothing grumpier than a pre-race runner bursting for a pee!

The Pipe Band marching through the runners just before the start always brings a lump to my throat as I remember the apprehension I felt when they came through in 2005 then the elation I had at the finish.

Then we were off, I ran the first three miles or so with Grant from Fife AC who was having an easy start, he has also ran every Loch Ness, he told me that Collette, who I know from the Glenrothes 50km has also ran them all too and when she goes home to Ireland, Dublin Marathon at the end of the month will be her 200th marathon. (Congratulations Collette xx) When Grant commented on the pace, I thought it was a bit quick for me, even though it’s all down hill for the first few miles, I let him go on. I was feeling fine; my muscles were fresh having only done a handful of five mile runs and one nine mile run since the 24 hour race but I knew this wouldn’t last. At 13 miles I looked at my watch for the first time and I was surprised it was just before 2 hours. I had no push for the wee hills earlier and just eased myself up them, my quads were starting to hurt and felt empty.

Although I carried a couple of gels I also had a couple of mouthfuls of Lucozade at every station but the Fifer in me thought what a waste, it’s a pity the bottles aren’t half the size, even that would’ve been too much. That stuff is too concentrated and just sits like a brick in the guts if you drink too much. I thought Nessie is going to be flipping out the Loch like a dolphin on such a sugar rush once all that wasted Lucozade runs down into the loch! I had considered pointing at the loch and shouting “Look there’s Nessie!” but I chickened out, folk would’ve know for sure that I’m nuts!

At around sixteen miles I found a new best friend, I was chatting to guy who now lives in London but hails from the Black Isle, I said my first marathon was at the Black Isle in 1992 which is no more. I pointed to the pins holding my number and told him I still use the same ones that I used then. He then asked if it was me that had a wee story in the race magazine and when I said “Yeah” He replied “You look a lot younger than in the photo!”

The support at Dores was phenomenal; they were so noisy and enthusiastic and lifted the spirit of every runner going through. I kept glancing behind on the wee climb out of Dores getting a last look at the cracking view down the Loch before it disappeared, a tonic for a tired body. My quads weren’t screaming at me but were shouting loud and abusively, I am good at listening to my body but I told them to shut up and get on with it. At the hill at 18 miles I started to feel better, I think the change to a shorter stride and slower pace was more to my liking. I wouldn’t call it a comfort zone but a zone I’m used to, running slow, staying relaxed, keeping a good posture no matter how sore and tired I am but I had wished I’d brought some painkillers with me. Mentally I’m always good and 26.2 miles isn’t scary for me but there is no such thing as an easy marathon no matter how many or how far your previous adventures have been.

On the long down hill I let gravity work its magic pulling me down closer to the finish. I tried to push on but I had nothing left. You could hear the finish from the other side of the river, just along and over the bridge; I was looking forward to the new finish, no more plodding up and round the stadium with the sharp turn to the finish, just straight along. Once over the bridge I tried to wind it up a bit but my legs weren’t playing, they’d had enough. I managed to keep a little energy for some fun at the finish, I’d remembered a video Mel, another Carnegie Crazy… err… I mean Carnegie Harrier had posted on facebook of her finish at Stirling 10km, it was lovely and made me smile and I jokingly asked if I could borrow it for Loch Ness. As Bryan Burnett shouted my name I thought yeah, let’s go for it. I raised my arms over my head and gave huge waves and blew kisses to the crowd, but on my rush for the line I forgot to high five some one in the crowd, oops, I’m sure Mel won’t give me a row for not getting it right!

Although I was awfy tired and awfy sair it didn’t detract from the sheer pleasure I get from running Loch Ness, I even manage to finish within my goal, 4hrs 14mins although that wasn’t really important. I’m alive and kicking having monster fun.

Perth Ultra Fest 24 hour 2010 – I’m not stopping!

2010-09-12T10:49:00.008Z

Caution – some readers may find some parts of this report might put them off their cup of tea and Hobnob and there is strong language in the middle.

Pauline was struggling with the decision of whether to run or not, after the long flight back from Australia her knee was not right. It was improving but not fast enough and if she started there was no question of DNF, it would’ve been 24 hours no matter what. I didn’t try to sway her against running but when she made her decision not to run I was relieved. I have seen her push herself to destruction before. The small consolation, she would channel all her disappointment into my support. I would be running for both of us. No pressure then!

Although my running was fine, I hadn’t been focussing on this race at all. I knew at the beginning of the year that the Perth Ultra Fest was happening with the possibility of it being an International event with a wee chance of representing Scotland again. I planned to run the 24 hour race anyway. It wasn’t until the end of July that I knew what vest I was wearing and it was a boot up the bum to get some quality and quantity into my training before a wee taper.

Doing support at a 24 hour event was new for Pauline and on Thursday evening we spent a couple of hours going over my race plan. The motivation started as soon as she picked my up on Saturday morning, she pointed over to a big sunflower growing in my neighbour’s garden. “That’s how I want you to be, tall, straight and strong with your head up to the sun.” I gave it a bit of thought, “Hmm? Yeah, that’s a good one, I can do sunflower!”

I didn’t need much faffing before the start, I was ready to go once I’d put my number on and the chip on my shoe, a couple of photos (roadrunpics.com)
and at 10.00am we were off. Soon settled down into my groove, it was going to be warm, I took off the t-shirt from under my vest, there was a novelty, it’s not often I run with just one layer, I hate being cold and rarely run at a pace to break sweat especially with something this long.

At 12 noon the 50km and 100km started and they whooshed past loads and always with lovely encouragement, Scott made me laugh, he gave me a round of applause every time he lapped me. I went through the marathon in 4hrs 21mins, a nice steady start, then 50km in 5hrs 15mins, it was a wee bit slower than my 2008 splits but that was ok, my plan was to take it easy in the heat and save myself for when it cooled down.

I could feel the toes next to my big toes on both feet getting hot and decided to change my socks to thinner ones. Pauline got the bag with my spare shoes and socks ready for the next lap. There was the start of a couple of blisters on my toes so lots of Body Glide around my tootsies then on with flesh socks but I was staying with the same shoes. I was half way round the next lap when I glanced down at my feet. What a numpty!! I was wearing odd shoes! They were the same make and model except that the pair I was racing in I’d only ran about 40 miles in, the others I used for training, and were quite grubby with loads of miles in them, I considered just leaving them since my “racing” shoe was the one with the chip on it but I was hoping to run another 90 miles so I thought it would be better to wear out my shoes evenly and decided to changed back. There was a lot of hee haws from support when I next went round and announced that I wanted to change just one shoe.

I settled back down until around 40 odd miles when I felt a wee bit chafing between my butt cheeks, which was a bit surprising, I don’t normally chafe at all, anywhere, except under my bra where I take the pre-emptive action of a wee bit of micro-pore tape. It must be the heat, I was also covered in salt, I felt quite manky, I’m not normally this sweaty but it was soon sorted with a wee freshen with a flannel round my face, neck and arms and a wet wipe and a dollop of Vaseline between my butt cheeks (sorry if that’s too much information… but I did warn you!)

I was refreshed and back into my groove knocking out consistent laps, not that I could tell from my watch, I never look it, I always run to my body and its built in metronome, I was wearing it as a fourth lap counter, just back up for the chip on my shoe (dodgy and totally untrustworthy) a lap counter (give me a thumbs up from a cheery face with a clip board any day) and Pauline (totally trustworthy) There was a couple of anomalies with my laps and it was always the chip that was duff.

The sun went down, the temperature cooled and the youngsters that had appeared were having fun with the glow sticks that were marking the path in the dark, it didn’t worry me, I had done a few laps by then and knew the surface well, on one lap there were a few of the kids on the path, I yelled “COMING THROUGH!” They promptly moved, I thanked them and a second later one was running beside me and asked how many laps I had to do until I was finished. “Dunno, it’s as many as I can do in 24 hours!” I replied, next came the usual questions, “When do you stop to sleep and eat?” He was awe stuck when I replied “I don’t!” he wished me well. The entertainment came to end when the Police arrived and told them it was bed time.

By lap 46 (109km/67miles) I was equal to my time in 2008, Pauline and I were doing the COME ON! ALRIGHT! shout. A wee tradition we now have which started at Perth last time Perth 2008 report I felt strong and pulled in the splits until I was 7 minutes ahead, all I had to do was maintain and I’d have a PB. Seemples!

roadrunpics.com
Not so seemples, with around eight hours to go my stomach started giving me grief, I had some crystallised ginger which usually helps but not this time, my guts continued to bubble and boil like a witch’s cauldron. I burped and boaked to no avail, this was going to be a long night, I wondered why it was called the dry boak, my eyes were watering, my nose running and I was spitting plenty slavers, but no matter how many times my tummy muscles heaved I just wasn’t producing the nice big splatter with the diced carrots. Pauline tried to motivate me, I was going really slow and had lost my advantage, she shouted “COME ON!” I answered “FUCK OFF!” she pulled the earphone from my lug, “COME ON!” “FUCK OFF!” she tried a third time, “COME ON!” right in my ear, I’m nothing if not determined, I wasn’t in the mood to play. “FUCK OFF!” This was the first time ever in my life that I’ve sworn at Pauline. When I’ve supported Pauline during her moments of stress in races she has been insulting but never once did she swear at me, I have raised the bar in twinny tantrums.

A wee while later I had a fashion diva strop when Pauline tried to make me wear her Granny mac, she argued it will keep me warm, I disagreed, plastic only keeps you warm if the heat is there in the first place, I felt so cold that a corpse would’ve had a higher core temperature. She took it away and came back with my fleece blanket, that was better and at least I wore it with the panache of a pashmina and not a burka!
This photo isn't out of focus I really was that fuzzy!
Eventually, after a couple of hours I managed to spew, after all that effort I wasn’t impressed, “Is that it?” I thought. I’m afraid my puke protocol was lacking, I didn’t move over onto the grass, and left my wee splatter right in the middle of the path. I apologised and warned the relay team when I next came round “Try not to slide on the spew in the middle of the path up there!”

I can’t say I was running on empty ‘cause I wasn’t even running, it took all my focus just to stroll/stagger forward, every lap the benches on the far side were trying to seduce me into lying down but I knew that if I sat down even for a minute it would be game over, I was going so slow but I knew that if I stopped I’d go light headed and my legs would seize. It was going to be a very very long night, when I went through race control, everyone was encouraging me, but I could see by their faces they were thinking “God, you look like shit!” If anyone had actually said that to me I would’ve taken it as a very flattering compliment, I felt a hell of a lot worse! Andy Smith looked me in the eye and said something encouraging; I eyeballed him back and said “I’m not stopping!” I think I said that to everyone that looked concerned.

The sky slowly lightened, that mean bugger aka Pauline took Blanky away from me and gave me Sue’s Harriers jacket and told me to move and swing my arms! I felt colder with just the jacket which was on top of a fleece, my vest, a long sleeved top and a short sleeved top! The only way to generate heat was to move forward as fast as I could go. I was trying, honest! Occasionally my blisters would remind me they were there, I didn’t mind a wee bit of blister pain, it’s only skin, sharp and superficial and distracted me from the pain in my guts.
Pauline was shouting at me to run, she counted out ten paces of running to ten paces of walking, when I was out of ear shot I modified it to ten paces run/twenty paces walk. I had a stitch on both sides and in the middle when I was running (I didn’t know that was possible), it eased when I walked, I felt as though I’d been Claymore-d across the guts. Eventually I extended my running paces to my walking paces, I warmed up, went though 100 miles, (earlier I didn’t think that that was going to happen) lost the jacket, lost the fleece. I was moving forward with the pride of a Rampant Lion, time also moved on, neither of us were fast but both consistent.

The end was in sight, John gave me a wee stick with my race number on it, Pauline gave me my Saltire, I was to run ever step until the hooter sounded. I went past Aileen, she was ahead of me by several laps “Run with me, let’s finish together!” but her legs were stuck in her pace, I ran up the wee hill through the gap in the wall, Pauline was now allowed to trail me to supervise my collapse at the end.
There was William ahead. Pauline shouted “Runner coming through!” There was a proper gent with a sense of humour; William Sichel holder of 32 World, British and Scottish records, with a smile on his face, raised his arms in a “We’re not worthy” salute as I (me!!! a wee bauchle of a Fife wife) went by!!!!! The highlight of my twenty four hours!

The hooter sounded, I was between benches on the far side, Pauline planted my wee stick into the ground, I walked on towards the bench ahead, “I’ll have you now, ya tease!” I lay on the bench with my feet on the bucket, I had stopped. Lots of deep breathes, I wondered when my legs would get the message, they were still jumping about. Val appeared and with both Pauline’s and Val’s assistance I manage to walk back to the Scottish camp, Gail and Helena came up to watch the finish of the 24 hour and hugged the life out of me.

It was over, more deep breathes, this was one of the most painful 24 hours of my life, and without the support of everyone there I doubt I would have managed to do what I did. I would like to thank everyone personally but that will take too long, so to ever race official that gave up their time. Thank You. To every supporter there. Thank You. To the Scottish team. Thank You. To Pauline to say Thank You is inadequate and a box of Thorntons doesn’t make the apology but that will have to do. To Fabienne and Julie, your kindness and tender care will never be forgotten as you got my battered body out of its manky race clothes and into warm, clean and dry clothes. Thank You. To Lorna who gave up her cosy jacket to some random in need just before the prize giving when I was shaking with cold like an old washing machine on fast spin. Thank You.

Running round in circles is quite different to the adventure of a trail race but there is still a tangible magic there, what is beautiful is the way every runner supported each other, nobody past anyone without some words of encouragement, I knew ever time Chris Carver lapped me by his cadence, it was so fast. I was so pleased for Chris that he had won, there’s a guy that’s had more than his fair share of battles, a most deserved win.

This was just my third 24 hour race and it was the least distance I’ve had but I’m not disappointed, I still have a lot to learn, what I achieved in this race is not visible on a result sheet. I knew I was a tough burd before but I found a new depth within myself, although I’ve never experienced gut problems like this before my head stayed up not once did my posture crumple or did I wish I was elsewhere, I wasn’t the bonniest sunflower in the field, I swayed in the breeze but I did not break! My strength was honed and tempered beyond what I knew before, and that will stay with me always to take towards future challenges. 200km may be beyond me but it’s my goal and I’m hanging on to it, that’s for the future to know and for me to find out. One thing I know for sure is that I am capable of going further than I’ve gone before.

A few changes for Perth

2010-09-02T21:35:00.007Z

I’d like to start with saying thank you all for the kind words I’ve received regarding my last post, whether on the post, emails and messages through facebook, it does help knowing I’ve so many friends hold us in their thoughts. Thank You xx

Mum is a fighter, it’s a family trait, our family is riddled with strong women with attitude, one very inspirational lady was Mum’s Auntie Madge, she died in her ninetieth year after fighting ailing health and several strokes, her final words were “Get me up!”

You can see where I get my strength and stunning good looks from.
The bad news for Perth is that Pauline has withdrawn, she has a problem with the back of her knee, it was after the long flights back from Australia, she felt it as soon as she got off the plane at Edinburgh and was initially worried it was a DVT but her Doctor reassured her it wasn’t.

The even worse news is that she is going to channel all her disappointment and frustration into doing my support.

The slightly better news is that the new IAU/IAAF feeding guidelines are in place and she won’t have the length of a feed zone to boot my butt!

The “oh dear!” news is that I have had a sore throat since Sunday and I hope it doesn’t develop into a gunky chest like the WHW race. But Pauline has told me she has already disregarded this piece of information. I have gold, silver and bronze goals, 200km (Gotta aim high!) A PB - anything over 187.449km (116 miles) or better than Keswick last year 172.820km (107 miles)

If the shit hits the fan and I have a horrible race as long as I don’t look like this I’ll be happy!
photo from Brive by Alan Young

Perth in perspective

2010-08-29T21:31:00.002Z

I’ve been trying to focus on the 24 hour race at Perth but it hasn’t been easy, my running has been fine, thoroughly enjoyed it as always.
I’ll let an email I sent to a good friend I don’t see very often explain.

Hi ?????,

Sorry I've been awfy slow in replying, and awfy sad to hear you and ????? are splitting up especially with being together for such a long time but always look forward with your head up that way you can see all the good stuff ahead.

One reason I've been slow in replying is I got some sad news too, it's my Mum, she has cancer, it was very sudden and a shock.
How long have you got? I'll give you the whole story.

Nearly three years ago an old friend of Mum and Dad's, Crawford, (he and Dad had been pals since school) had emigrated to Australia around 1970 with his family and he came back to Scotland for a last visit and looked up Mum and Dad not knowing Dad had died. But rewind back to the 50's Mum had gone out with Crawford but had split up when he went off to do his National Service.
They got on really well and kept in touch after he went back to Oz, then Sept' 2008 Mum and her brother went out for a holiday and they became a couple. He came over in Jan' 2009 for six months then last August they headed back to Oz for six months, it was quite hard saying bye at the airport, I've never not had my Mum close by and we were always round at hers a couple of times a week but I was happy for her, they were like giggling teenagers together having a lot of laughs, and how many folk do you know in their early seventies having so much fun! But at the beginning of this year, just before they were due to come back Crawford was diagnosed with Leukaemia so Mum had her visa extended, Crawford responded well to treatment and is now in remission and the plan was to come home in August. Mum started to feel not well in May, it was the Monday before the WHW Mum told me it was cancer and they were doing tests on how far it had gone. (So that was one of the reasons I had such an enjoyable WHW, running 95 miles with a wee chest infection was easy compared to the battle facing Mum.)
The results were not good the cancer is in her bones, so treatment is to be prolonging rather than curing. It has been so hard knowing Mum was miles and miles away and I couldn't do anything for her. But after radiotherapy, the first part of her treatment in Oz Pauline went out for less than a week and escorted them home. They've been back just over a week now, Mum looks fine but is very tired, but she's still fighting, laughed at her chasing a cat out of the garden at the weekend, she hates them shitting in her flowerbeds! Not that her garden is looking too good at the minute, but I am being supervised, it won't take too long to get it back to its former glory! I feel so much better having her home and that I can do stuff. She starts chemo next week I think, that's going to be rough. But you know me, I'm a tough dude and I'll do what I can to give my Mum the best care and laughs.

On the racing front... let me think... oh yeah, a big one! It hasn't been at the forefront of my mind but on the day I will do my best. It's at the Perth Ultrafest. The Six Nations 24 hour Championship AND in a Scotland vest next weekend. So if you're at a loose end between 10.00am 4th Sept and 10.00am 5th Sept come along to the Inches with your Saltire and shouty voice, I'll need all the help I can get! Pauline should be running too but has had a few wee problems, after the long flight home she's had a problem with her knee, and is not sure about running, but if she starts she will finish, no half measures.

I'll finish with a wee quote from Rosie Swale Pope - Just a Little Run Around the World (a story of her 5 year run round the world raising awareness for prostate cancer after losing her husband.)

Never miss the chance to be happy.

love,
Fiona xxx

Thinking of my race next week, I will still be giving it my all, if I have to run until the blood seeps though my shoes, or my quads turn to concrete or I spew my guts, there’s nothing new there, this is all stuff I’ve ran with in the past and they haven’t stopped me before and if something new adds to the challenge I’m sure I’ll deal with it. Another quote from Rosie – Yesterdays hardship is today’s anaesthetic.

I will have an intense 24 hours, I will get sore and I will get tired but at the end I’ll get to lie down, sleep and recover, and with that thought it will be easy. I am not disregarding how hard a race of this stature is I’m just comparing it to the battle ahead of my Mum and many others.

I know Mum is proud of me as all Mums are but it’ll do no harm to make her smile even wider. I will be going in fighting not just for my country but for my Mum too. On the outside I’m a wee Fife wife, on the inside I am not just one warrior, I have the strength and heart of a whole legion.

Here’s my song for this years race.

Tour of Fife 2010

2010-08-03T09:36:00.014Z

This is a cracking series of races taking in road, trail, beach, hill and a short but nosebleed steep uphill time trial (the drive up to the car park at the finish is in second gear!) This was my seventh tour and I love it, it’s the only time I ever start and finish every race as fast as I can go! (Ok, stop rolling around laughing at the thought of me going fast, compared to my usual race pace its blistering!)

Stage One – Teddy Bear 5 mile Road Race
Sunday 25th July
Position 125 Time 41.44mins

An out and back “lollipop” route on road with a teeny wee undulation from Giffordtown. The sun was shining, it was a perfect day for a run. This race had mile markers, I had a quick time check at the first mile, 8.10 oo-er missus! Lesley went past me, I said “So far so good!” One more mile and there goes my delusion of speed, the lead guys had been round the lollipop and were heading back. I concentrated on breathing deep and even, visualising air going in down past my belly button and keeping good posture, at around 3 miles Lesley was walking, I didn’t care that she might still have the Clyde Stride in her legs or that she was clutching her side with a stitch as I ran past I shouted “Four letters! TTFU!” She laughed, there’s no sympathy ever given or accepted between ultra runners. I belted down the little decline pushing on in the sunshine, I didn’t feel too hot just solar powered, muscles lovely and warm. I didn’t lose control of my breathing in the last mile but it was every orifice for its self! Laughed at a photo at the finish, I looked like my Uncle Brian he’s 70! The last time I resembled him it was in a photo taken in the last hour of a 24 hour race!
Uncle Brian!

Stage Two – Loopy Loch Trail Race 6.5 miles
Monday 26th July
Position 129 Time 55.31mins - Overall Position 121 Time 1.37.15

Two loops round Loch Ore at Lochore Meadows, I was feeling a bit rough, over celebrated yesterdays first stage, my hangover wasn’t as big as an elephants arse on racing bike but I was still a bit queasy come race time also I must have slept in a crumpled heap last night, I had a crick in my neck which was fine as long as I didn’t look over my shoulder, never do that in a race anyway except at the top of Loch Lomond in the West Highland Way race and there I pause briefly to take in the stunning view down the loch. I set off at a go for it and see what happens pace, if I spew so be it. My stomach settled after a load of burps, Lesley sprinted off never too be seen again. It was a flat loop with a couple of wee undulations, just after halfway in the first loop a couple of guys went past me then seemed to slow down boxing me in, harrumph! I pushed past them and kept up the effort. Just after the start of the second lap the wind had picked up and was right in your face, I tried to tuck in behind the girl in front but she was useless, too skinny, where’s a wide bloke when you want one? I wasn’t struggling but it was a bloody hard effort, I was wondering if I’d overcooked the pace, another thought gave me a wee giggle to myself, it’s quite common for the date to change during my races so how am I meant to know how to pace six and a half miles! So told myself just to keep running like my arse is on fire and I’ll soon be finished.

Stage Three – Lomond Lungbuster Hill Race 4.5miles/697 ft climb
Tuesday 27th July
Position 125 Time 45.42mins Overall Position 117 Time 2.22.57

I was looking forward to this one, a wee bit of a shake up for the road running racing snakes, although the “proper” hill runners dismiss West Lomond as a pimple it’s still a hands on thighs slog on the steep path to the top. It was another lovely night, a wee bit chilly on the way out with a strong wind in our faces, kept a good strong pace on the rough path, I was well chuffed I made it up the incline to the bottom of the hill before the leaders had made the top and descended round the long way back to the path. With my hands on thighs I pushed up to the top, taking a quick glance at the view before heading down, the descent isn’t scary, not for short arses with a low centre of gravity anyway. I worked hard to maintain the pace I picked up on the way back, I even managed a sub 8 min mile with gravity assistance picking up a few places too.

Wednesday 28th July – A rest day but went for a nice easy 40 minutes just to keep the legs ticking over.

Stage Four – Chariots of Fire Beach Race 4-ish miles
Thursday 29th July
Position 129 Time 37.24mins Overall Position 117 Time 3.00.21

West Sands at St. Andrews is a long beach, and feels even longer on the way back although it’s a straight out and back route. First you’re on firm sand then sinky wet sand where footprints at least three or four inches deep, eventually you’re on soft dry sand before turning and heading back, this year it was a wee bit longer than usual to make up for last year being a wee bit shorter! It was a lovely sunny night, the wind wasn’t too strong but I doubt St Andrews is ever calm and, of course, it was behind us on the way out and in our faces on the way back. It was just a slog, pushing hard all the way but feeling like I was going nowhere, I past Lesley having a wee walk on the soft sand, I gave her the usual encouragement “TTFU!” Looking towards the Finish the big Tour of Fife feathers are a teeny weeny dot in the distance that never got any closer. Back on to the firm sand I breathe hard and push hard to the end, I was breathing so hard I didn’t hear Pauline’s warning or Lesley sprint up behind me and take me on the line! We went for a post race paddle but that North Sea is freezing I got an ice-cream headache in my feet and ankles! I was shivering just watching the hard core nutters swimming! The beach race was the hardest so far for me, I didn’t move up any places but that will soon change.

Stage Five – The Up Hell Time Trial 2.25km/754 ft climb
Friday 30th July
Position 114 Time 16.51mins Overall Position 114 Time 3.17.12

This is my favourite, it’s billed as the Alpe d’Huez of the Tour and I love it! It’s short and brutal, just you against the hill and it can psych you out if you let it, I’m sure some of the racing snakes are quaking in their high tech racing flats that weigh about the same as an empty Mars Bar wrapper! Speed isn’t the only requirement, this race favours the carcass haulers and I’ve got medals in that category! After driving up to the car park at the radio masts on East Lomond it takes a good twenty five minutes to walk down to the start. The runners are set off at 30 second intervals and Pauline and I are off first. 5 4 3 2 1 Go! Push, push, push! I’m working on breathing, a good leg turnover and pumping arms finding a rhythm. There’s plenty encouragement from the runners coming down the hill for their race, I can’t look at them; I’m focussing only in the road in front. I loved Mel’s comment “You’re looking smooth!” She might be lying but I take that one with me repeating in my head “Keep smooth!” (Mel had also brought face paint, “Yeah, I’ll have some warrior stripes!”) At around a third of the way up a young lad is playing Highland Cathedral on the pipes, I take the inspiration and breathe. Half way, is that all? I’ve been running in the red zone since the start, its short I can do it! Push, push, push. I look up to where the ground meets the sky, my lungs and legs are screaming at me. Push, push, push! I know the horizon is not the finish. There’s another cruel crank in gradient. My lower back joins in the screaming match. “Shut up and shift!” My body doesn’t shut up but it doesn’t slow down either. Push, push, push all the way to the line. I have a wee cough, a wee boak and try to get my lungs back in my chest. No time to waste recovering, Pauline’s at the car and getting ready, I join her putting on some warm clothes with a King of the Mountains top on over my fleece, Pauline wears a green sprinters jersey and gives Lesley the yellow leaders jersey and I also have a Saltire pinned to my shoulders and wear a devilish fleece hat. We get armed, my weapons of choice, a pot, a wooden spoon and a whistle. A wee thought crosses my mind, if anyone hasn’t seen a mountain stage of the Tour de France they’ll wonder what the hell is going on! We make as much noise as possible with shouts of “ALLEZ, ALLEZ, ALLEZ!” in between whistle blows, drowning out the screams of the other runners bodies so they can push on to the finish. The Devil gave his all to “inspire” as well. I did pick up a few places too, there was no doubt in my mind that I would.

Stage Six – The Twisted Chicken Run 5½-ish miles
Saturday 31st July
Position 116 Time 51.21mins Overall Position 110 Time 4.08.33

The last day, a bit sad there won’t be another stage tomorrow I’m getting the hang of running like my arse is on fire and as other runners were starting to feel fatigue my endurance was kicking in I’m sure I would’ve picked up some more places if the race continued for a few more days, but I was also a wee bit relieved that I don’t have to run like my arse is on fire again until the next Tour. A lot of fun was to had too with the feeling of “last day of term” I had fairly enjoyed my flounce over Conic Hill in a tutu during the Highland Fling relay and Pauline had seen some fluorescent green tutus in a the fancy dress shop in Dunfermline so I bought a couple for us and some bright orange ribbon, made and sewed on some bows, I showed them to the girls at the beginning of the Tour and wondered if any of them wanted to join us in a bit of fun on the last day. So seven tutus and fourteen metres of orange ribbon sewed into sixty three bows later, (no one can say I don’t take my job of club clothing secretary seriously) we were ready for the last race. The route for today was a mystery until we saw a map in the hall at Strathmiglo. Similar to last years Chicken run but with the added fun of bits of leg four in the Devils Burden Relay, loads of up hill (those with gizmos said there was more climbing than the Time Trial!) but this time we got to go weeeee all the way back down before heading into the wind on the long path past the chickens. Sweat was trickling down my face, a fly stuck to my cheek, I swatted it away, oh no, I’ve smeared my warrior stripes! I was along side Bob Thornton, what a gent, he told me to tuck in behind, I hung on to him until the right turn and last climb. (Bob is one of just three who has run every stage of every Tour.) Then a final descent down the side of the field and a sprint finish to be rewarded with a Fife AC famous cake fest.
Another brilliant Tour with the tough races, lots of banter and camaraderie you only find amongst like minded crazy runners. Big thanks to Brian and all his helpers, he’s got a year now to work out the devilish escapades for next year and I know I won’t be disappointed.
Thanks to roadrunpics.com, Pete, Gillian and facebook friends for the photos.

The Tour of Fife race plan

2010-07-22T09:45:00.004Z

The Tour starts on Sunday, six stages starting with a “nice and gentle” Teddy Bear 5 mile road race!

My race plan is as usual.

I’m not gonna run hard, I’ve had a slow recovery from running the WHW race in over 30hours with a wee chest infection.

I’m not gonna run hard, I don’t do short n’ fast, it’ll be a shock to my system.

I’m not gonna run hard, I’ve done no speed work.

I’m not gonna run hard, this is not my distance, I don’t put my shoes on for anything less than a marathon.

I’m not gonna run hard, I’m only doing this for the cakes on the last day.

I’m not gonna run hard, I’ve got a big race coming up soon.

I’m not gonna run hard, AYE RIGHT!

It’ll be the usual Highland Charge in lycra with no tactics other than getting to the finish of each stage as fast as my short fat ploddy legs can go. Brilliant fun! Not running hard!!!
photo from Fife AC website of last years first stage

WHW Race 2010 Gently Does It

2010-07-06T11:33:00.005Z

I had a few wee problems at the beginning of the year, nothing much but enough to curtail speed work, not that I’ve ever been accused of speed! I was managing long runs but they were even slow for me, not that that worried me; I was out and running on the most beautiful part of the world. I did quite a few training runs on the WHW on my own and thoroughly enjoyed the solitude and scenery all to myself.

This years race did seem to sneak up on me, I was focusing on doing Pauline’s support in the 24 hour World Championships in France at the beginning of May and then Sue’s in the Heart of Scotland 100 at the end of May. Then I thought “Jings, it’s my turn!” and got my head in focus, the body will just have to do. Pauline and I were both running again this year but not together this time.

On Friday did the hard bit of just lying around waiting for Val and Lesley to pick me up at 9.00pm, I was well impressed, it didn’t take them long to get my mountain of gear packed into Lesley’s wee car. We were soon in Milngavie, I registered, weighed in and just sat and waited until the start, it was lovely to catch up with old faces and meet new ones. Before the start there was a minute of respectful applause for those that we have lost then Gilian sent us on our way. A deep breath to clear the lump in my throat, the thought of finishing without a hug from Dario was hard to contemplate.

I set off nice and easy, I always feel a little uncomfortable at the beginning; it’s this tapering nonsense of loafing about for a week just stuffing my face that does it. But on Monday before the race I developed a sore throat, and over the next couple of days a tickly cough, I was checking my resting pulse every morning and it was 52 instead of its usual 48, not a lot of difference so I wasn’t too worried. Now that I was running my chest felt raw and sore, and the cold air was catching my breath, was it just because it was so cold or was I going to have problems? On the positive, this was the WHW and not the Tour of Fife, although breathing is useful, it’s not necessary to turn my lungs inside out breathing as hard as I can, just minimum effort required for a very long time! I considered taking some painkillers but if I did I wouldn’t be able to take any later so didn’t bother, also never told my support, well, would you? I didn’t think that mentioning I had chest pain or trying to mollify them by saying, it’s ok, nothing serious, just my breathing tubes would be greeted with “Och, you’ll be fine!” The rule for support of If you can’t say anything positive don’t say anything at all. also goes for runners too.

Dawn arrived early with it being a clear night and the views of the sun rising were stunning, tinges of pink promising a cracking day. At the top of Conic hill I had a shadow, I’ve never had one here during the race before! Coming down I was with Chris Moon, glad to see him back for a second goblet, but he’d taken a bad fall earlier and landed hard on his quad, sadly he had to call it a day.

On the descent, I phoned Val and Lesley, “Get the kettle on!” I was having my first cup of coffee in a month, I was looking forward to it, but when writing my race plan for this year I had considered leaving it until later but I’m a stickler for tradition, so much so I’ve used the same set of safety pins for my race numbers since my first marathon (Black Isle 1992) and I’ve started every WHW in the same long sleeve thermal top, and I’ve finished most of them still wearing it too! (Minger!)

I walked through Balmaha eating my rice pudding with Lesley beside me carrying my mug of coffee until I was ready for it. I didn’t rush it she was still with me as I climbed Fort hill, at the top there was Stan in an official capacity “What’s your number?” With a big cheery grin I replied “No 2” (Thanks). Then he proceeded to reprimand Lesley for being a pacer. “No, I’m just carrying this spoon and waiting for the mug!” She protested. I took a last big mouthful of coffee and handed it over then set off on to one of my favourite parts of the route, it had now warmed up, my chest had eased, and I had settled down, it’s a bit of a bugger when you need 20 miles to get into your stride!

At Rowardennan I changed from my road shoes to trail ones, another tradition for me, I thoroughly enjoyed the Loch Lomond side with its rough path, it’s all part of the adventure, it was a beautiful day, I had company from time to time, enjoying the blether but also the solitude when I was on my own. At the top of the wee climb at the end of loch where you get a cracking view I stopped and turned round for a few moments, I gave a great big two armed wave, this is an angel’s playground and that who I was waving too.

At Beinglas I had a wee deviation from tradition, see, I am open to change when it makes sense. I had phoned ahead and Val and Lesley were ready for me. I was going back to my road shoes, the path was so dry and hard with no give in it at all. Then off I tootled with happy feet towards Auchtertyre, I knew I was down on my time, even the slowest predicted time. When Gilian sent us on our way I started my watch then promptly turned it round to time of day and paid no attention to it at all, although I’d asked Val and Lesley if I was ahead or behind and I had no doubt on what day I’d finish! I had given support a time sheet with my splits from 2007 (PB) 2008 (a bit slower) 2009 (loads slower) and thought I’d be somewhere within the realms of all three, but that was not important, I was here and enjoying my day, and it was a cracker, the sunshine, the cooling breeze, the route, the views, the inspiration. I’m sure Dario has had a word with the high heid yin to give us such a perfect day. I never stop celebrating being alive and the WHW is my biggest party.

Keith gave me a wee panic when he asked if I thought we’d make the cut off at Auchtertyre. What!!! I hadn’t given it a thought and wasn’t worried about it but had to give it a big bit of concentration, me and sums are a bit useless but me, sums and running are mission impossible but looking at the time of day and knowing we had until 4.00pm to get there I could work out we’d be fine and told him so. Keith and George, two uber dudes who attempted running from Fort William to Mingavie then running back, the heat on Friday slowed them down and decided they wouldn’t have enough time to get to the start in time for a wee regroup, small rest and prepare for the start of the race so using common sense!!!! stopped at Rowardennan, they went on to finish the race in just over 31 hours.

At Auchtertyre there was a shift change for support, Sue, Gillian and Robin were taking over, Val and Lesley shot off to Fort William in time to see Richie finish. Sue has supported both Pauline and I loads of times and was generous with her expertise practising her needlework helping Keith deal with a blister. Robin the raw recruit this year held out my baked tattie on a plate with a fork, I just lifted the tattie carefully so as not to lose any cheese from it leaving Robin holding the accoutrements I only do table manners when I’ve got a table, (but that’s ok Robin, Gillian did the same thing last year in her first year of support). I thoroughly enjoyed my tattie and must say so the next time I’m in the Real Food Café.

At Tyndrum I was pleased that Gillian was able to join me, she’s been injured and was doubtful about being able to run, we trotted on blethering as much as we were running. This was the only section I felt it warm, although the wind was still fairly strong, I pushed my sleeves up and for a short time only wore one layer on my top half.

At Bridge of Orchy there had been a mishap with my hot chocolate, it was knocked over while they were waiting for me, “Aw! Ok, I’ll just have my rice pudding then!” Disappointed I walked up the hill with Sue, then Robin came sprinting up breathing hard with a fresh mug, he must’ve put in an effort equivalent of the Tour of Fife’s Up Hill Time Trial, wow, what brilliant support I’ve got! As Robin went to hand it over my wicked sense of humour kicked in, “Naw, it’s alright thanks I wasnae gonna bother wi’ hot chocolate now!” A millisecond later, “Just kiddin’!” In case he made me wear it.

Sue and I were reaching the end of the trees when her phone rang, Richie’s won! Brilliant news, just what we wanted to hear to put a spring in our step, the next thing to lift the spirits was a Magnificent Saltire at the top of the hill. A couple of photos and jelly babies from Murdo then we headed down the hill, it was great to have Sue’s company over Rannoch Moor, she too had been doubtful of being able to run and I’d mentally prepared only to have Robin run with me from Glencoe so it was a bonus having Gillian earlier and Sue with me on another of my favourite bits. Heading up to Peter Flemings Memorial it was time for a body check, starting at the bottom. Feet? A couple of hot spots but for around 70 miles that was ok. Legs? A bit sore but moving fluidly. Stomach? Fine, still managing to shovel grub in like the stoker of a steam engine. Chest? Ok as long as I didn’t breathe hard. Physically I was still good, but best of all, my head was in a happy place, and that can make all the difference, my body wasn’t trashed but even if it was my heart and mind are good I knew I’d be able to drag my carcass forever if necessary or for at least 35 hours. I know how lucky I am that I’m in a position to be here, doing a challenge of my own choice. Life can throw up challenges so much tougher so being here is a privilege.

At the Glencoe Ski Centre Robin was ready to go with me, I spent my longest stop here, 13 minutes, Sue moved seamlessly from support runner to foot doctor, helping me change socks. I put tights on over my Skins, and my blue fleece and Saltire buff, another tradition for the Devil’s Staircase since my PB in 2007, I ate some pasta, had coffee and swapped the sun glasses for the clear lenses to keep the wind out of my face then Robin and I were off into the magical light of the sun going down, casting hues of pink on the Bookle (Buachaille Etive Mor, but it ain’t Sunday yet!) We went past a guy leaning into and talking to the folks in a car on the road down from the Ski Centre, I didn’t realise it was my favourite pirate until we were passing him, but now with the motion control of the Titanic, I was impossible of change speed or direction I just had a hurried few words as I careered by. Had I known he was considering calling a halt to his WHW I would have given him an earful and if possible dragged him up the Devil, but everyone makes their own mind up and I doubt I would of made a difference but I still feel guilty for going straight by, we saw a yellow top following us after the Devil and I was falsely reassured it was Dave.

Robin was brilliant as running support, instinctively doing the right thing; I didn’t have to shout at him at all! It didn’t take too long until we were at the faff of the weigh in at Kinlochleven, I wasn’t too concerned about my weight, I don’t mean to be blasé about the scary stuff of hyponatraemia etc, I’m aware of the symptoms and my weight never varied more than a kilo. I drank my mug of Oxo and took my ham and cheese roll and a bottle of flat coke, my stomach was fine but now it was a bit tired too and I didn’t start eating my roll until Robin and I had got the monster climb out of Kinlochleven over with, I nibbled it slowly over the next couple of miles, in the past at this point I’ve eaten too fast and then felt sick. The tiredness was starting to show, “I’m fed up with all these stones!” although I still had a happy head, Lairig Mor in the dark doesn’t make me skip with joy!

It wasn’t dark for much longer; I watched the second dawn rise during my race. I wasn’t as talkative with Robin as I was with Gillian and Sue, but Robin’s a fine wee blether and his race tales was lovely, I didn’t hallucinate but I thought my ears were when he said something like it’s not far to wonderbra! He was actually calling Lundavra wonderbra, but I just thought ma lugs were tired too!

My chest was now a bit gunky, my voice was rough and croaky and when I coughed I sounded like I was on forty fags a day and I was coughing up a bit of phlegm and that was giving me the boak! Robin being a proper gent with a proper handkerchief would ask “Was that a hanky?” when I blew my nose. “Nah, just a snot rocket!” lucky for him I was following. If you want to be a real ultra runner you have to forget all the manners your mother taught you and go Neanderthal, eating with your bare hands, pooing in the woods and blowing your nose without the aid of a hanky.

Last year I had a sticky out bottom lip at Lundavra when I was given coffee instead of the hot chocolate I’d been looking forward to after asking for it at Kinlochleven, so this year I’d put on my diva demand list just to ask me at Kinlochleven what I’d like to drink, but when Sue asked I was in don’t know mode, so just said surprise me. What a genius that woman! At Lundavra I got a Mocha, the kick of coffee and the comfort of chocolate, perfect. I’ll remember that for future, if I can’t make my mind up just have both! (Wonder if it’ll work for when I’m shoe shopping.)

It was just a case of plod on now, Gillian and Sue were going to park the car at the Leisure Centre and then walk out to meet me, lovely, a full escort home. Robin and I negotiated the stiles, the steps and steep ups and downs of the woods, just before the last steep climb onto the wide forest track down to Fort William a cheery face appeared, Stevie, John K’s support, (but he was my support first, running a bit with me in 2006) it does give a boost when someone makes an effort just to see how you’re fairing. It didn’t feel too torturous coming down the wide descent, Sue and Gillian had found us and Stevie said cheerio, and headed back to the campsite. The last mile, normally I put in the effort of a sprint but why change the pace of the last 94 miles, so just ran it nice and steady, savouring success. 30 hours 45 minutes, slower than I had thought I’d be but do I care.
The prize giving was still special and I thought the new tradition of the first winner presenting the last winner with their goblet brought all the runners full circle and symbolic of a family hug.

A excerpt from my 2008 race tale - Hang on while I swap my race buff for the headscarf with the dangly coins and stare into my crystal ball I can sense this family getting bigger, I see another Carnegie Harrier sipping from a crystal goblet. Peter Humphreys this is your destiny.

Pete is sipping from a goblet, finishing in under 22 hours, excellent for his first time, why I bring this up is because he started his WHW life as support, and I can see more of my supporters sipping from fine crystal in the future, just a word of warning, 8 out of 10 support end up with their own goblets! Just saying thank you to Val, Lesley, Gillian, Sue and Robin just doesn’t seem adequate. You are a very special bunch that makes this adventure possible, are doing anything next June 18th?

A Pride of Rampant Lions

2010-06-28T09:15:00.002Z

My WHW report is work in progress but I write as slow as I run but here’s a cracking report from Gail’s Anglo-Celtic 100km

ANGLO CELTIC PLATE 2010 – BODDINGTON 100K

2010 was to be the year I got my own back on the WHW. Alas, I was selected to represent Scotland in the Anglo Celtic plate, which, as luck would have it (or was it an English conspiracy?.....hush my mouth…) landed on the same day.

It didn’t take long to decide that I would prefer to represent my country. I may not have that opportunity again, and the WHW wasn’t going anywhere.

So I trained hard on the roads, harder than I’d trained before. I did loads of build up races which helped my speed and boosted my confidence. I had run Keswick in a PB, for the 1st time breaking 9 hours last September. This was a hilly course and I hoped I could do better on the flat, scenic Boddington course. I wanted a PB and thought 8.45 was a reasonable target. Then I heard the British qualifying time was 8.39. So why not go for that. In the past I’ve always covered the 1st half in about 4 hours and the 2nd in 5 hours. I was going to try and start a bit slower in the hope that I wouldn’t burn out so soon. I knew it would slow drastically in the 2nd half, but I hoped it would be later on in the race, where I’d have more in the bank and be able to hold on for longer.

All my training had gone to plan. I doubted towards the last couple of weeks before the race whether I’d done enough mileage. But that’s not an unusual feeling before any ultra. We travelled down to Boddington in a hire car. Steven and I picked it up in Kirkcaldy, drove to Bellshill to pick up Grant, then onto Abington to collect Issy. En route we hit terrible traffic and got lost in Bellshill. A potential 6 hour journey was more like 8 ½ hours. Not the greatest preparation the day before the race. On arrival, Steven, Grant and I had a quick recce of the race route in the car before going straight to the pre-race briefing. The race organiser seemed to take great pleasure in telling us that Scotland was the only complete ladies team, and all we had to do was finish. I’m sure as a UKA official he is meant to be impartial, but my ar*e!....

I went to bed, not thinking this is in the bag, but rather I’ve got 62 miles to run tomorrow and if I don’t I’ve LOST the ACP for Scotland. No pressure then! I slept quite well and turned up for the race not feeling too bad. The nerves kicked in when we arrived at Boddington Manor. Everyone appeared to be the same. Grant was super confident despite having a back problem for weeks. Scott didn’t complain of anything but I knew he was nervous about a foot/ankle problem he’d had recently. I was glad he was there – good friend and clubmate, and his Dad. I knew how important it was for him to represent his country for the 1st (and I’m sure not the last) time. Issy and Nathalie were also on edge – Issy always questioning her fitness and Nathalie running for Scotland for the 1st time. Les was an old hand but had a problem with his back.

We all had our own goals and before we knew it we were off. We ran alongside runners doing the marathon and the 50K. This was great as there was plenty to watch and think about. And it always surprises me how you can lap people running the marathon! Always gives you a boost. We were to run 28 laps of a 3.5km loop. It was very scenic and flat and myself, Natalie and Issy all settled in and ran together at roughly 8 min mile pace for the 1st few laps. I had a good blether with Natalie for a while then she broke away. I was happy to plod on at my own pace and felt quite comfortable. Issy fell back and it was difficult when I lapped her, to see she was having trouble early doors. Grant lapped me after about 6-7 laps I think, up with the “fast boys”. Scott lapped me later and I could tell he wasn’t comfortable. He told me his legs were very heavy. But on we went. I felt fairly comfortable for the 1st half of the race, going through 50K at about 4 hrs 07. This was all par for the course. I knew I’d thrown in 2 or 3 fast laps early on but felt OK and was running steady now. It was all time in the bank. I lapped Issy again and she was really struggling. I really thought she was going to pull out. This put extra pressure on to finish as 2 runners were required to count for the team. I was delighted to hear on the next lap that she was still in the race.

Update from the WHW – Richie was in the lead at Bridge of Orchy. This was what I wanted to hear and it gave me a wee boost and spring in my step. Unfortunately, not long past the half way mark I started to feel sick. In spectacular form, at the next drinks station I vomited my guts up. Always nice in front of a crowd. I didn’t know what I could take till Margaret, Les Hill’s wife came to the rescue with some flat coke. It went down well, then I was off again. It wasn’t long before I felt the same way again. I knew I was in deficit and my pace was slowing all the time. At the start of the race, because of the new rules where your support can’t run with you for any distance – they can only move 1 meter from the drinks station, I was struggling to get hold of my drinks as I ran through. One thing I really wanted to do in this race was not walk. However once the vomiting started I had no option. I had to stop every lap to walk, refuel as best I could and vomit when the need arose. And it was oh so difficult to get moving again. I perfected the mega slow shuffle to make it look like I was running – debatable I’m sure. But I was sent off with a flee in my ear each time and told to keep moving. I did my best and did in fact keep running for the rest of the lap, only walking at the drinks station. I always vomited in front of an audience at the drinks station though– such an attention seeker!

I was counting down the laps and was told on 2 separate laps that I had 9 to go. The lap counters were at the opposite side of the lap to the drinks station and our support, so it was not easy to verify this. It sorted itself out but I was not impressed when I was told I had 3 laps to go as I entered my final lap. The lap keepers were shouted at accordingly and they confirmed I was right. Thank the Lord!

I was so desperate to finish. I had been desperate for the past 2 hours. It’s not easy running 30 miles with nothing in the tank. But I had to finish. I couldn’t lose the ACP. If I had to walk or crawl I would. My hoped for times had long gone. I knew I wasn’t going to get a PB or even sub 9 hours but that didn’t matter. I just wanted to finish. I’d seen loads of people drop out. I wasn’t going to be one of them. I’d been lapped by Scott twice but then unlapped myself. I knew from our support he was having mega problems with his legs but he was still going. So was Issy despite feeling rubbish from 90 minutes into the race, Nathalie was now having problems with her hip I think, but was still running. Grant’s back was giving him problems and he was way down on his hoped for time and Les’s back had gone. But everyone was gutting it out to the end.

I have to admit to walking some of the last lap – when no one was looking! I started running before I approached the lap timers and ran towards the manor. I saw Steven who gave me the Saltire to run with till the finish. I held it with pride as I crossed the line with great relief. I was greeted by Scott’s Dad, John who gave me the biggest hug. I don’t think he thought I was going to let go! Then Steven got the same. Relief at finishing, joy at winning the ACP and I came in 3rd in the British 100K championships to boot! Now I’d stopped running, could I have something to eat now please?!! Thank you to Scott’s friend’s for buying me a ham roll and a cup of tea!

Then I heard the news I’d been hoping for, Richie had just won the WHW!!! With tears welling up I shouted to Scott to give him the news. He felt the same. So many hundreds of miles away Richie had made our day!

Within the next 90 minutes the whole Scottish team was home. We had all gutted it out with our own personal battles on the day. None of us had done what we wanted time wise but we had all achieved in our own ways. Another one put down to experience. Yet another character building race.

I don’t know why I was sick. Not a problem normally for me during ultras. Maybe it was the heat. It certainly was hot at times. I didn’t feel I was sweating much, but did feel I was overheating, and regularly had to throw bottles of water over myself. The long journey down to Boddington the day before maybe didn’t help. But I can’t think of anything else.

Boddington was tough. It was a challenge for Steven to go down as team manager. Experienced as he is at supporting, managing a team is a whole new responsiblilty. He didn’t just have to look after me, but the whole team. The new rules where you can only move 1 meter from the drinks station was hard for all the support. I was certainly conscious of the fact I was barking demands from a distance. I knew this was required but I felt very demanding and there wasn’t much time for please or thank you. So I’ll say it now! – Thank you to Steven, who did a sterling job for me personally and for the whole team, and to all the other support and runners in Team Scotland – for emotional and physical support. For Margaret and Les a special thanks for the flat coke, which will now be an essential part of my supplies in future ultras!

As I ran this race I thought, well at least I’ll not have to do 100K again as I’ll not get selected again, but like the WHW last year, me and the 100K now have unresolved issues. See you in Perth!

Gail Murdoch
June 2010

Sue's report from the Heart of Scotland 100

2010-06-09T20:11:00.002Z

Heart of Scotland 100 Report
Sue Walker 1st and 6th June 2010
104.44 miles and 13,200 feet according to the website.
108.4 miles and 15,200 feet climbing according to Sports Tracks and 2 x Garmins

Where to begin? Well, the real beginning is back in 1909! Baden Powell had started scouts and held the first scout rally in Chrystal Palace. A group of girls gatecrashed the event and caught his eye. He told them that Scouting was for boys. They complained and asked him for something for the girls and so in 1910, Girl Guides was started. Fast forward, 100 years, it is the centenary for Girlguiding and I’m county commissioner for Girlguiding Fife. I hear about a 100 mile event taking place in Scotland and I’m intrigued. It’s too close to the West Highland Way for the other ultra runners in the club, but it’s got a firm hook in me. I make enquires about entering and am told I need to have completed a 50 mile event to qualify. Despite a knee problem the fortnight before, I managed to get around Rotherham in October, finishing in 12:30 ish and that’s qualification done. Qualifying ticked off; I now enter the event and break the news to one and all!

As part of my preparation I enter the Glasgow to Edinburgh double marathon (55 miles) followed by the Deeside 33. Unfortunately, the incessant flatness of the canal tow paths brings on an ITB problem which puts me out of the D33. After some brutal massage and stretching, the ITB eases enough for me to resume training and I recce more sections of the route, concentrating on those sections I expect to do in the dark.

The route is incredible. The event starts and finishes in Dunkeld. From Dunkeld, you run over to Kirkmichael, then round the back of Ben Vuirich via Daldhu and Shingag to reach Blair Atholl. From there, via the falls of Bruar, you head North along the old A9 before cutting across to Kinloch Rannoch via Loch Errochty. After breakfast in Kinloch Rannoch, you head via the sides of Schielhallion up to Pheiginn Bothy and then Fortingall, Aberfeldy, the Hermitage and back to Dunkeld. All in all, it’s an official 104.44 miles with 13,000 feet of climbing.

I chose to start at 10am with the Walkers – how apt! - giving myself the full 48 hours to complete the event, though I really am targeting a pre darkness finish on the Sunday (36 hours). I plan to run the flats and down hills where possible and walk the hills. I set my watch alarm to remind me to eat and drink something every 30 minutes. My challenge is to finish this event. I’ve put together a pacing schedule to help my supporters but in fairness, all I want to do is rise to the challenge and complete it. There will be no heroic sprints at the start but hopefully no major slumps either. Nice and steady is the way to go. I’ve checked in with LDWA and they are happy for me to have running support provided they don’t get in the way and are self sufficient. All systems go then, and Ken, Fiona and Pauline travel up to support over the weekend.

It felt very odd to be gathered in the busy square in Dunkeld and not know another soul! Very different from most races in Scotland where I would expect to see club mates and friends from other clubs. After a few rousing tunes from the Vale of Atholl pipe band, we were off to Loch Ordie. This first checkpoint was not accessible to supporters. I assumed that the checkpoint would be based on a 4x4 vehicle with maybe water and jelly babies on offer. Not at all. There was a 15’ square marquee pitched with sandwiches, and biscuits and apologies for only having bottled water to drink. Off I went to Kirkmichael, allegedly past some Ospreys but I didn’t see anything. The route to Kirkmichael was greatly improved since my last visit in the snow in February. The landowner had cut a path in the heather, built a new gate in the deer fence and created a new path down to the Cateran Trail. There were even way markers. The first village hall stop and my chance to meet the support team was Kirkmichael. On the drop down to the Cateran trail track, I met Helena and Gail complete with route finding GPS – well it was a navigational challenge! I stopped at the hall and had my route card punched and popped in to see what type of food was on offer. A vast array of sandwiches, crisps, custard, rice pudding and clootie dumpling! I was even offered a strawberry by Marie Dokes’ husband. Marvellous! Off we trotted, the happy Carnegie Harriers - me, Helena, and Steven. Gail played leapfrog with the car and caught us later. Steven stayed with me for a good while before returning back to Enochdhu for the promised lift home. Thanks for the company everyone, I enjoyed it.

Daldhu was 20 miles in and was again a marquee check point offering salad and quiche and tea, coffee and puddings. Quiche went down well but I couldn’t quite appreciate the salads. Off again, in drizzle now to Shinagag, passing several Duke of Edinburgh expeditioners on the way. Navigation wasn’t too difficult though crossing the broken bridge over the ravine was challenging. I opted to scramble across the burn instead as I thought any falls would be gentler! It was easier though wet! On the way into Shinagag check point, I got a text from my eldest daughter Kathy. She’d threatened to send me texts containing the words of songs. Her idea was that I’d get the words in my head, sing the song, and generally be distracted from any aches and pains. First up was ging gang gooly, gooly, gooly gooly whatsa ging gang goo, ging gang goo……….(sing along now!)

From Shinagag the route headed across the moors for a mile or so on some easy tracks before descending for a good couple of miles into Blair Atholl. Beans on toast on offer here but I settle for a couple of slices of toast and some running company with Pauline. We were chatting so much along the river path that we nearly missed the route. I switched back to concentrate mode and enjoyed this very scenic section with several follies on the way. At Calvine, I tried a plate of cold pasta but decided against it eating some sultanas instead. Ken then kept me company along the flat, old A9 section to head into Dalnacardoch. A quick cup of soup and a sandwich later, I stopped at the car to put blister plasters on some hot spots and dress up for the weather. It was properly dark now, and the rain was starting in earnest. Fiona was chumming me on this section while Ken and Pauline were heading off to get some sleep in Kinloch Rannoch. In the end, it was far too wet for them to put up the tent and they dosed uncomfortably in the car instead. Meanwhile, Fiona and I trudged along the tarmac road for a couple of miles before going cross county at Maud Loch heading to Errochty Dam. I had reccied all of this section so I knew roughly where I was meant to go even if I couldn’t see any landmarks. Some very helpful marshal had placed red and white hazard tape at intervals along the route. That was a very welcome confidence booster. When we reached Errochty Dam, there was a kit check. I got off lightly by being asked to show my compass which was tied to the front of my rucksack and in regular use. Others had to show their bivvy bag or first aid kit, usually from the bottom of the rucksack. The weather by now was truly foul and a great number of people pulled out here. Marshalls were advising people to proceed only if they felt strong enough and were well enough equipped for poor conditions. Luckily Fiona and I were so we carried on. When we left the lochside path, we had a couple of miles to go on rough, boggy terrain before reaching an unmanned checkpoint. We got stuck behind a small group. The lead walker had clearly reccied the route and was rallying his small group. He didn’t seem too pleased to have us tuck in behind but equally, didn’t move aside to let us pass. He made sure everyone knew that he knew where he was going and we all reached the flashing red light marking the self checker at the same time. After that, Fiona and I left the group behind and we made our way uphill for another mile. A deer fence had recently been installed and the ground underfoot was churned up and ankle sucking mud. It seemed to take forever – during which time day broke and the rain stopped - before we reached the top of the col. Apparently, we were then meant to descend on faint path for 0.75 miles on initial bearing 140°, later bending round to 175o, to reach track beside the main burn (track not shown on OS map) and cairn. I covered this section in daylight in a recce when the ground was snow covered, and then again in daylight on the event, and on neither occasion did I find the faint path on the bearing and nor did I find the first cairn. After a bit of stumbling about (with no one in front to follow!) we tucked behind some other walkers till we found the large cairn and after that the descent in KR was straightforward. I realised on arrival that I was a bit ahead of schedule but planned to press on anyway. I put dry socks on from my drop bag but didn’t bother changing shoes as I knew I still had another 7 miles of bog to go. Robin from Perth had offered to come up for 5am to chum me on this section. Luckily, he decided to get there early and was ready to go with me after breakfast. We must have been on our way by 4.15 ish. Again, I had reccied this next section over the flanks of Schielhallion and more or less knew what was coming. It was a hard slog over burns, bog and heather. When I sunk 18” into a drainage ditch, (and had to crawl out fulfilling my promise to run, walk or crawl the route!), Robin picked the way for me calling out when he spotted another drainage ditch. Pheiginn Bothy was warm and welcoming with a log fire and candles burning on the mantelpiece but I managed not to linger. Another steady descent to the flat road section to Fortingall and Ken and the crew met me at Keltneybridge for a shoe change and I switched from trails to road shoes. There was still a climb to go out of Aberfeldy but I knew the running surface was fine from here. At Fortingall village hall, the LDWA checkpoint staff apologised to me for not being well enough manned up to provide waitress service!!!!. Pauline was chumming me on this section and we soon crossed the narrow suspension bridge and headed into the Tay forest. When I arrived at the next checkpoint, the Sunday papers were waiting along with tea, coffee and sandwiches. As the marshal clipped my tally card, he said, ‘so you’re Sue Walker’. I was a bit puzzled but headed off. A mere 150 yards down the hill, I saw the reason for his comment. There was my sister Trish and daughter, Lizzy, together with a guiding friend Helen with a poster attached to a tree. The poster had been made to support me by Helen’s brownies in Rosyth. I saw the poster another 3 or 4 times over the next few miles. What a fantastic boost. Pauline, ’encouraged’ me to trot along the riverside path into Aberfeldy. It is a very scenic, flat path but the miles seemed to elongate. I had to stop to take some paracetamol as I had a pain in my knee. Even worse, though, was the toothache I was experiencing. That forced me to inhale paracetamol every 4 hours till I finished. (Wisdom teeth are all getting extracted in mid June and I sorely need it). At least the pain in my jaw was distracting me from running aches. Then we crossed over General Wade’s bridge and into the Scout and Guide hall in Aberfeldy - very apt given the cause and the company I had (Fiona and Pauline had been in Helen’s guide unit at one point and Val was a Queen’s Guide!)

Val chummed me from Aberfeldy up that endless climb on forest tracks to Loch Kinnard. My tummy was a bit upset here so Val didn’t have the cheeriest of running companions then. Once at Loch Kinnard, I knew the worst of the climbs were over. The remaining 10 or so miles was lumpy rather than hilly though the pace was fairly slow. We bumped into WHW runner Andy Cole on the forest tracks. He was keeping things nice and steady in preparation for this year’s WHW. Pauline and Ken drove on ahead to Dunkeld and walked back through the Hermitage to meet Fiona and me and escort us in. We must have looked a very odd posse as we made our approach to Dunkeld. The sun was out, kids were playing tennis in the park as we crossed under the A9 and finally crossed the bridge and ran into the square in Dunkeld. As I entered the Drill hall in Dunkeld to surrender my tally for the final time, the tally clipper rang a hand bell and everyone present gave me a round of applause. What a welcome for each finisher. Robin and his wife Ann had come out to Dunkeld from Scone to see me finish, and the sense of relief and achievement when I finished was immense.

I really can’t thank my fantastic runner supporters enough – Ken, Fiona, Pauline, Gail, Helena, Steven, Robin and Val; my sister Trish and daughter Lizzy and Helen and her brownies for their support en route.
When I eventually downloaded Garmin info (I used my own and Pauline’s and recharged them in between), I covered 108.4 miles and 15,200 feet of climb in a time of 32:23. I started just before 10am on Saturday and finished well before dark on Sunday at 6:20pm.

I didn’t manage to get my report finished quickly, as after a couple of days R&R, I then mucked in with all the final preparations for our guide camp. I’m back now from a weekend of celebrations with 2000 members of Girlguiding Fife, including 400 campers. We had a ball.

Thank you to everyone for their support – both practically, via messages and by sponsoring me on my just giving site,here

On the run I ate jam sandwiches, marmite rolls, quiche, Tuc biscuits, jaffa cakes, fruit pastilles, custard, rice crispie cake, rice pudding, mints, sultanas, maltesers, tablet, porridge. I drank Nunn juice, tea, coffee and soup.

Sue Walker June 2010

Sue’s Big Hearted Run

2010-06-03T10:36:00.011Z

When Sue first said she planned to run the Heart of Scotland 100 with a goal to raising funds for the Guides Centenary Sue's just giving page a hundred miles celebrating a hundred years did seem quite appropriate. Both Pauline and I volunteered our services for support, well, it was only fair, the amount of times that Ken and Sue have supported us.

We arrived in Dunkeld to an invasion from the south side of Hadrian’s Wall. No worries though, they were friendly marauders, easy going, relaxed and the majority of them have had generous servings of birthdays. This maybe the Heart of Scotland but it was a bit weird that ours were the only Scottish accents to be heard; even the pipe band was not immune from a pitch invasion.

This is a Long Distance Walkers Association organised event which put on a 100 miler every May bank holiday in a different location every year and this is the first time they’ve held it in Scotland, and what a brilliant, well organised event it was too, each checkpoint was manned by a different region laying on groaning tables of sandwiches, cakes, pots of custard, fresh fruit, dried fruit, urns of tea and coffee and I’ve never see so many chocolate digestives!

The first checkpoint we could get into was Kirkmichael, I wouldn’t call it a one horse town more of a wee pony place but the shop cum post office cum café cum centre of the universe for Kirkmichael did a lovely mug of hot chocolate and bit of carrot cake, this was very civilised for support. Gail, Steven and Helena arrived and chummed Sue for a few miles, Pauline kept her company from Blair Atholl to Calvine then Ken until Dalnacardoch were I would take on the night shift, the weather so far had been fairly perfect for running, not much wind, a bit overcast and cool, well, I felt cold just standing about. There had been a few wee bits of drizzly rain but it was now decidedly dreich as Pauline and I got organised for Sue’s arrival.

After a bit of foot repair we were both kitted out in full body waterproofs and head torches, we set off up the long pull up the tarmac road, just as the rain started stotting down. I said to Sue that as this was her challenge I wouldn’t be taking over any of the navigating, it’ll keep her alert and awake to stay in charge of the instructions besides I went a bit squiffy on the Deeside 33, an out and back on an old railway track! I’m only here for the scenery and the blether, hmm, all that we could see was in the circle of torch light but we blethered plenty.

After the tarmac road, a wee track, a dam, a tented checkpoint with loads of choccy digestives the terrain took in the proper meaning of challenging, thick ankle grabbing heather, big burns where there used to be wee burns, wee burns where there were none, bogs to pull your shoes off and slimy slippery mud just to make placing your feet loads more fun! At least we weren’t cold! There was a steep, steep long climb up the side of a deer fence which was quite handy for hauling yourself up with or just to hang onto when your feet slid out from under you. I felt it tough going and I’d only had a stroll up Pitlochry High Street and not over 50 miles in my legs! At the top we stopped for a wee breather, I said that that was harder than the Devil’s Staircase with 70 odd miles in the legs, Sue didn’t disagree.

We looked down the hill, there were lots of twinkling head torches below and a few that were a bit off course but they were heading in the right direction. After another climb we meandered a bit ourselves, not exactly off course but we gave ourselves a wee bit more than necessary. This side of the hill’s puddles and bogs were freezing, up until now they had just felt cold, Sue thought it must be ice melt working it’s way down. We could see Schiehallion in the slow dawn, Sue pointed out her route skirting up round the side of it. I felt a twinge of guilt; I was leaving her at Kinloch Rannoch for warm dry socks and a lie down.

Breakfast was served in the school at Kinloch Rannoch, I went into the hall with Sue, and I was asked if I’d like porridge and a full cooked breakfast, I declined since I was just support, all this was for the walkers and runners, but could I have a cup of tea please? He soon brought Sue a steaming bowl and said to me “You look like you can use a bowl of porridge are you sure you don’t want one?” “Ok, I will have one.” The next question was “Would you like honey and whisky on it?” Eh! I’ve never heard of that before, so I answered yes. It was lovely; I’ll definitely have that again but only on special occasions, I’ll stick to my usual honey and banana for normal.

Robin had arrived and was going with Sue over the next tough section. I headed into the ladies toilets to get changed. I took my hat off ruffled my hair, looked in the mirror and wondered if you can still get flokati rugs? I think I’ll put my hat back on. Back at the car I put the front seat right back, got all cosy under a couple of blankets with my hat pulled down over my eyes, bliss. Ken and Pauline had spent quite a cold uncomfortable night in the car, they had planned to pitch a tent for a few hours sleep but it was just too wet to bother.

Ken drove round to the next point where we’d see Sue, I don’t know where it was as I was still dozing but slowly came back to life. Robin handed over to Pauline who would see Sue into Aberfeldy but just after the Tay Forest checkpoint the cheering squad had arrived, Sue’s sister and her daughter. Also Helen, a Guider, had tied on to a tree a banner that she’d painted with the help of her Brownies.

Next in the support relay was Val, ready and waiting to run when Sue came into Aberfeldy, just a pot of custard in the scout hall and they were off to Loch Kennard, this checkpoint was about a mile walk in from the car park for the crew and the cheering squad, I was now bright eyed and bushy tailed… just some positive thinking here I was more bleary eyed and bushy haired but it was firmly kept under my hat. I got myself ready to run again where I’d go to Rumbling Bridge with Sue.

Sue was still looking great and still smiling after 92 miles; she just wasn’t sure what to eat any more but was happy-ish to take the tablet I offered. We caught up with Andy Cole for a wee while, he was the only WHW family we saw, we’d had a text from Karen and George via Lesley wishing Sue all the best, they pulled out after 50 miles saving themselves for the main event in June. This section was fairly straight forward, mainly following a wide forest track, at one point Sue had a feeling we’d missed a turn point and thought we may have to go back. Although Sue was in charge of route finding I was kinda paying attention to where we were too, and I didn’t think we’d gone wrong, so off I trotted, pushing on up the path to catch up with a runner ahead and check if I could see our turning, speaking to the guy, he confirmed that the bloke in front of him had recced the route and this was correct, relieved I pushed on back to Sue, who’d while I was away, checked the map and was happy to continue on.

I’d received a text from Ken saying that they’ve parked the car in Dunkeld and that he and Pauline were just walking into the Rumbling Bridge checkpoint. That’s lovely, a full escort from Team Sue to the finish. Then another thought dawned, that means I’ll have to run the last 3 miles instead of driving round to the finish and standing with my camera. Oh well, I’m sure I’ll manage, I’d only covered 24 miles with no sleep, a mere trifle! I don’t know why my legs were protesting a bit when I sprinted on ahead at points to get some photos. I laughed at Pauline in the woods standing in front of a bench, barring it from Sue and waving her onwards, not that Sue looked like she was stopping anyway, she has had a tremendous run, maintaining a steady pace, never loosing her sense of humour, or having a strop or tantrum, with a smile that lasted the whole way, covering twice as far as she has ever gone before. What an inspiration!

There has been a lot of discussion lately comparing running 50 miles to running 100 miles. In my opinion physically there’s not much difference but mentally they are poles apart. I now have a new weapon in my arsenal for this year’s WHW. Smile like Sue!

A tough 24 hours

2010-05-24T21:23:00.005Z

World and European 24 hour Championships 2010

After getting back from France last Saturday evening I’ve been meaning to write a wee bit about the World Champs all week, but I’ve been knackered, mentally as well as physically, ma heid’s been all over the place and a bit more forgetfully than usual. Also I planned some big miles running every day this week knowing I’d be tired, my longest on Monday was 21 miles and boy, it was an exercise in remembering how to run tired, I covered 58 miles in the seven days and every mile came under the heading of flogging a dead horse but compared to what I witnessed at the World Champs it was nothing, the determination and fight shown by all the athletes was inspiring.

There was 229 competitors from 32 nations and we had a strong men’s team Chris Carver, Chris Finill, Stephen Mason, John Pares, Richard Quinnall, and Jim Rogers. They did very well, winning bronze in the European Championship. We didn’t have a ladies team, Sharon Gaytor was injured so Pauline and Marie Doke would be running for personal bests.

Now the atmosphere at these events is totally different from a family day oot aka The West Highland Way Race where competition is still fierce at the front end and between siblings, the Family always lookout for each other. This was the best on the planet running for national pride and gold medals and pressure to do well came not from team management but from the athletes themselves. There was the camaraderie that’s always present at ultras but it was still pretty much every country for themselves, there were a few wee bits of friction between some nations and for me I felt it was a bit like the petty shenanigans that go on in that disreputable game called football! Official complaints were flying around, ok; everyone wants a level playing field. I fell foul of the referee myself, on one lap I knew Pauline was approaching but the there were a horde of French hanging out of the tent next to us, Pauline came down the middle, I stepped forward to hand her drink bottle over as she went past, next thing the official was eyeballing me, speaking French, pointing to the painted line. I stopped short of tugging my forelock but nodding my head in acknowledgement of my misdemeanour, next lap I told Pauline she has to come right in to me ‘cause I got a row for stepping over the line. Now let me explain the rules for support at this championship, we were only allowed to use the length of our tent, three metres and one metre out (check the orange paint) anything out with this would incur disqualification for the runner.
I have never supported Pauline under such restrictions before (this was Pauline’s four British vest and I’ve been there for her in all the others), I usually cover about a marathon in the feed zone, but unless I’m handing over food or drink, I walk or run behind her, (don’t want to be accused of being a pacer), passing on information or kick ass encouragement. This felt like I was supporting with both hand tied behind my back! Right, enough of my frustrations.

This was a good team, support crew gelled together well, although we hadn’t all met before, there were a lot of laughs and we looking after each other, I was also helping Graham, Marie’s husband support Marie, he’d had quite an accident earlier and wasn’t firing on all cylinders and went off to rest occasionally, on one time where I was looking after Marie I missed Pauline, on her next lap round she shouted “Message from Alan Sugar!” She was long gone by the time I realised I was sacked!

We managed the three metre rule regards feeding, Pauline either took her juice bottle or mug round a whole lap or dumped it on the official drinks table where I’d walk over and pick it up. Communication was the hardest, but I have a good set of lungs and vocal chords set at max, when there was a text message of support I’d either edit it if it was a long one or just bellow as Pauline went by. (Thanks guys for sending them, they were appreciated and I read them all in full to Pauline afterwards.)

The support crew all worked together, when Chris Finill came in for a change of shoes, I did say out loud “How many crew does it take to change a pair of shoes?” Well, it was three, with the physio supervising! I was swapping Chris’s orthotics from one pair of shoes to the other, “Concentrate Fiona, there’s a left and right here, swap them over correctly!” Next lap round Chris came in to say they were in the wrong way round. Bugger! I’ve never been stumped to find a positive in any situation; I apologised and told him “Look at it like it was a reflexology massage!” Chris has proved that he is a consistent runner having run all thirty London Marathons and all under three hours, I took my hat off to him, I also lent him my favourite pink gloves when his were wet and cold, it was the least I could do after messing up his shoe change.

Pauline wasn’t having the best of runs, her shin was hurting, you could see it swelling and bruising as time progressed, she managed to maintain a pace that would at least give her 200km but as the night drew in it became freezing, I was wearing a t-shirt, a fleece, my inspirational t-shirt, a thick sweatshirt and a jacket, a pair of three quarter length breeks with thick cosy joggy bottoms over them, two hats (until I gave one to Chris) and I was freezing! Pauline was so cold she was rattling like an old washing machine on fast spin! Got lots of clothes on her and even made her do a spell wrapped in a blanket, she wasn’t the only one suffering from the penetrating cold, there were a few more similarly dressed in blankets.

Incidentally my inspirational t-shirt wasn’t necessary Pauline was working as hard as possible at all times and never gave up no matter how tough it became, I did give it a flash in the wee hours since I had it on. I also gave Pauline the Runrig “COME ON!” at my loudest possible, that stunned the Americans opposite into silent momentarily, well, there was a bonus!

After running for so many hours with a gammy leg Pauline’s gait was affected and she developed other sair and tight bits and had quite a pronounced limp at one point. Dave, the physio knocked some of the kinks out of her but that looked just as painful!

Time moved on and just after nineteen hours I bellowed some inspirationals recalling my run last Saturday on the WHW, Pauline drove from point to point enjoying the chill out and scenery “Less than five hoors tae go, jist imagine Bridge o’ Orchy tae Kinlochleven in the sunshine!” I laughed when Dawn (Richard’s support) said “err… that was too Scottish for me, can you translate?”

The end was in sight, Pauline had said she didn’t want her flag for the finish, she didn’t feel she deserved it. Pah! Not in my eyes. The distance she covered didn’t show the fight she put up and she definitely deserved the honour of finishing flying the Union Flag. I tied it round her shoulders, gave her a hug and sent her off, that was when my bottom lip gave a big wobble, I’d stayed a tough taskmaster up until then.

Marie didn’t have a flag to finish with, her first GB vest and a PB too, I had a bit of a dilemma, there was no way I was going to ask Pauline to give up her flag but then I saw my Saltire fastened onto the railings. Now there’s a flag Pauline will be proud to finish with! With total disregard for the restrictive rules I took my Saltire to where the route went round the back of the tents, as Pauline went by I told her that Marie didn’t have a flag. Pauline’s look of concern said it all followed with “Give Marie this!” I gave Pauline my Saltire and dashed back with the Union Flag for Marie. There were only a few minutes to go, I grabbed my camera, sod these effin rules, I’m off! I went through a gap in the railings and charged round the inside of the lap screaming at Pauline “Fly your Saltire, show them how a Rampant Lion finishes!”
The signal for the end of the race sounded. Pauline was shifting at the end, I had to climb the barrier to get to her, she was still standing but leaning her head on the barrier, and could still make me laugh, in true Diva style said “No photographs!”

It took a bit of time to get everyone back to the hotel, Pauline just crashed out and didn’t move for ages, it took me a good deal of effort to get her to eat and finally have a shower. Then I fell asleep!

Pauline’s distance of 107 miles was a disappointment for her but there was no disgrace in her performance, I have never seen anyone work so hard for so long with the problems that she had and I’ve witnessed quite a few tough races!

I’m not finished with doing support yet, next weekend I get to do the let’s not bother with any sleep thing again. Pauline and I along with Ken will be looking after Sue in the Heart of Scotland 100, it won’t be so intense and l’ll get to run a bit too! I might even take my t-shirt but only for the laughs!

World and European 24 hour Championships, Brive, France

2010-05-10T19:04:00.004Z

I’m flying to Brive, France soon (volcano permitting!) to do Pauline’s support in the 24 hour World and European Championships. Running for Great Britain is an immense privilege and Pauline has been focussing on this for a while and needs someone doing support she can depend on totally, that will be me then! This is Pauline’s fourth British vest and I’ve been there for her during all her other races. I pride myself that when Pauline is running I will have everything under control and Pauline knows it, so she can concentrate purely on running, she has no doubt that I’ll be able to deal with whatever problems arise. It is a double edge sword pushing and supporting someone you love when they’re doing something emotionally, mentally and physically tough but I think twins do have an advantage over other siblings, spouses or friends; we’ve been poking each other in the eye since before we were born and she’ll be getting no sympathy from me! I will do my utmost to get the best from her.

I have the inspiration sorted, there has been many a truly inspiring word spoken by the WHW family and there’s a couple in particular that work for me, one from my favourite pirate to his lady love during a pep talk while she was doing her leg of the Fling relay and the other from my favourite Aussie. Dress code for Team GB is standard tracksuit etc. and I was given a warm sweatshirt last year for Bergamo, Italy and I’ll be wearing it in the wee sma’ hours to keep me cosy but with a wee personal touch, well, I don’t want my neck to get cold now do I. Also I’ll slip into this cheeky wee number at some point during the proceedings.
If you’re interested here a couple of websites that should be doing updates during the race.
http://www.24h-brive.fr/index.php?lang=en
http://www.iau-ultramarathon.org/news_detail.php?Id=561

The race starts 9.00am UK time on Thursday, if you would like me to pass on a message to Pauline and the rest of the team during the race, here’s my mobile No. 07510270113. Please don’t be offended when I don’t reply, I’ll be a tad busy since I’ll be supporting Stephen Mason as well but he’s easy to look after, he doesn’t do diva demands. Pauline does admit that it’s just me that gets both barrels when she’s not a happy bunny, she’s loads more polite when others are doing her support but she knows I won’t take the huff and if it helps her release anxieties and relax I’m doing my job! Besides I get to shout back… but I don’t have to, I’ll just make her read my t-shirt!

A stunning day oot!

2010-05-09T10:23:00.010Z

I really enjoyed today’s run, a wee change to the original plan, Glenrothes 50km on the Sunday, it was cancelled due to a lack of entrants. I was quite disappointed, especially when five folk I know said “Bummer, I was gonna do that!” Well, why didn’t you commit earlier! Probably still not enough entrants but it might have helped! I use the 50km as a good test of fitness and I do enjoy it. I find it puzzling that an ultra is cancelled due to lack of interest when ever other one is over subscribed!

Ok, new plan, big run on the WHW. The club has a big outing to the Cateran Trail, the wee 23 miler and relay! I was asked would I do it? “No” was my reply, I wanted a big run, but when the comments changed to “You should do the Cateran!” I dug in my contrary heels, and would not succumb to the bullying, but I did concede that I would benefit from a fast “shorter” run and changed my plan from running from Bridge of Orchy to Fort William to just stopping at Kinlochleven. There is no doubt that the Cateran trail is a good run and I may do it some day but I’m no trail trollop, my heart belongs to the WHW so that’s where I was heading.

Pauline was going to drive and have a chill out day, just what she needed after a stressful week at work and trying to focus on her race next week. She flung me out at Bridge of Orchy and said “Bugger Off!” I stood at the start of the hill in racing pose, said “Ready, steady, go!” and set off at a stroll, well, I’d just got out the car, my Achilles tendons felt tight, and I’ve just had a heavy mileage week running my seventh day in a row. Once I loosened off I ran the whole way, a novelty running all of Rannoch Moor even up the steep bit to whatisname memorial cairn although I did have a few photo stops and at one point I stopped just turn a full circle to take in the vastness of my view and all I could hear were the birds, the breeze and my own breath.

I phoned Pauline to say I can see Kingshouse, I just put my phone away, och, there she is, she’d walked up the hill to meet me. We went along the path to the Ski Centre, the new checkpoint for the WHW race, and not much of an add-on really, and when you consider the route improvements, it’ll be Even Stevens’!
I walked most of the Devil’s Staircase and stopped to let four guys go past on bikes, one stopped for a wee blether, they’d started in Inverness, came along the Great Glen Way and now heading down the WHW, he knew me from last years Glenrothes 50km, he was a colleague of Bob Allison! I bounded and skipped the rough rocky path down to the steep track that heads into Kinlochleven, I came down that at a fair pace but not hard enough to trash my quads. Pauline came up to bridge at the end of the pipes and finished the run with me. Just as we were going through the wood we met Peter Duggan.

I was pleased to have run it all apart from the climb out of Bridge of Orchy and the Devil, and I felt good and strong the whole way and was a bit disappointed when I stopped, I was itching to carry on over Lairig Mor, but I’ll save that for another day. I’ve covered all of the WHW to Kinlochleven during this years training and if I don’t manage to get the last miles in I’d like to say I could probably do that last bit in my sleep, highly unlikely, even though I’ll be heading into the second night with no sleep I’m sure the blisters round my tootsies and screaming quads won’t let me nod off! Come race day/days what will be, will be and I will manage to run from the Braveheart car park. It’s tradition!

The Highland Fling – A Relay Brilliant Day Out

2010-04-28T19:51:00.010Z

Ages and ages ago when I was looking at my racing plan for the first part of this year, I planned my usual Lochaber marathon and the Glenrothes 50km, I dithered about the Highland Fling in the middle of them but thought that since my name’s not Richie I’d struggle to do all three. Then thought that the relay might be a way of having my cake and eating it, (I have a good relationship with food, maybe too good!) So I emailed Fabienne, the ladies captain saying if they needed some one to make up the numbers for a relay team, I’ll do it. Next thing I know is I’m team captain, yikes! Not sure about this, my leadership qualities are akin to a headless chicken but I was relieved to find out all I had to do was fill in the form and post it off. Val did a brilliant job of organising recce runs also working with Morna and a wee group discussion of who’ll do what leg and in what team since Carnegie had two ladies teams entered.

We were going to use Val and Morna’s cars so Val, just to be on the safe side added Gillian onto her car insurance for the day and phoned her insurance company and was quoted £40, “Thanks but no thanks.” the last time she added someone for a day it was only a tenner. So she went online for temporary insurance and found a quote for £17, that’s a bit better! Only thing was it’s the same company she’s insured with! £40 for a valued loyal customer and only £17 for a random punter, I think Aviva should change its name to DickTurpin.com!

Our team name was Carnegie ladies in 4 fun and I thought we should show a bit of frivolity and emailed Val, Louise and Gillian my thoughts, the replies varied from “Have you been drinking?” to along the lines of goan yersel! I was running the second leg of Drymen to Rowardennan, over Conic hill, not a munro but a hill that still deserves some respect so I thought it must be done in a pink tutu! You should’ve seen Erin’s face (my fourteen year old daughter) when I asked if I could borrow her skirt, she was fine with it when she knew she wouldn’t be with me when I was wearing it!

Pauline came along for the day, she was a possible late sub for Louise, her calf gave a wee ping on Tuesday at the club and wasn’t too sure about running. Louise was fine so Pauline took her role as Carnegie ladies in 4 fun cheer leader seriously and was dressed appropriately in a Viking style tartan bunnet wi’ horns and ginger pigtails attached, Saltire t-shirt and a wee tartan pelmet of a skirt, and wielding Fife’s version of cow bells (a pot and wooden spoon to rattle together, apparently it’s all the rage with supporters on the mountain stages of the Tour De France!)

The ultra race had started earlier with staggered starts so it was just the relay left to go.
Gillian was on the first leg, after seeing her and the rest of the relay runners off the rest of us went to Tesco’s to buy a big picnic then headed round to Drymen. It wasn’t long before Jo came in and handed over to Isobel (Carnegie Cougars, the fast team) and soon Gillian was in sight, she handed over the sash and wrist band with the chip and I was off in a flounce.
I was wondering how to pace this, just over 14 miles so I was thinking half marathon pace, hmm… when did I last race one of them? But the terrain tells you different, and it’s so ingrained in me to walk all the hills with a jam sandwich or two. Just last week I decided I needed speed work so I hope this will do for starters and ran as fast as my little fat legs could go at all times! It was a novelty (and a first) running all the way up the long forest track, skipped and bounced down to the bridge at the start of Conic hill. I had my first walk here, but did run some of the not so steep bits. I had a slight problem with my tutu, the Velcro wrist band on the chip kept catching and sticking to it, so I took off the band and jammed it into the phone pouch attached to the waist strap of my backpack. It didn’t take long to get to the top of Conic and start the descent, its ages since I’d last battered down hill as fast as gravity could drag me, I’m usually cautious here of keeping my legs intact for the seventy odd miles still to go. But as rusty as I was at descending I gave it a good go, it was dry underfoot and I was wearing new trail shoes. Confidence, it’s all about confidence. My mantra was “I’m not scared, I’m not scared!” My arms were doing semaphore sweary words and I remembered to smile at all the people on the hill.

It was now a warm sunny day and Balmaha and the surrounding area was busy with day trippers, I got quite a few comments, and lots of “You’re going well!” I thanked them and thought “Going well? Did they mean I was going well for a finely tuned and well seasoned athlete? Well, I’ve seen plenty seasons! Or did they mean I was going well for a fat burd that looks like she’s mislaid her hen party!

Halfway between Balmaha and Rowardennan Ken went past me (Carnegie Wrinklies, the old team, who’s combined ages must be approaching 250 years!) He asked wasn’t I roasting, he had to take off his thermal top on Conic. I had taken off my gloves and pushed up my sleeves earlier. He psyched me out; I took my Buff scarf off.

After the second sharp steep climb with the steps, I knew Rowardennan was less than half an hours running away. I thought half marathon pace and pushed on. I caught my right toe and assumed the Superman pose except I’m crap at flying. Phoowf! It was ok, no damage to the tutu, I was back up and running again as fast as I fell, a quick dust down and I was uninjured too! A last uneventful push into Rowardennan, zapped the chip over the pad and handed it over with the sash to Louise. Yaaay! She was wearing Pauline’s wee tartan skirt; I wasn’t the lone nutsy runner after all!

A quick change, but kept the tutu on, had a picnic sitting in the sun cheering on other relay runners then we drove round to Bhein Glas, laughed at the sign outside the Drovers. Said with feeling, it sounded like I was swearing. “NO FLING CARPARK!” That’s ok, I’ve always given that establishment a wide berth. We were allowed to park at Bhein Glas as long as we paid £5 but that was redeemable in the restaurant, that’s fine, a bit of mutual support I suppose, and I was sure I could force some beer and chips. Val got herself ready for the last leg, while Gillian and Pauline with her pot and I went up onto the path. We were there in time to cheer on some of the real runners as well as the relay runners, that’s why the relay carried a sash, in case it was hard to tell the difference. Some runners looked fresh and some looked puggled and surprisingly not all the fresh looking ones were carrying a sash and vice versa!

Louise came sprinting in and handed over to Val, now off on the glory leg. Right Louise, hurry up and get changed, it’s beer time except for Gillian since she's driving Val's car. Well, we have a fiver to spend, the chips were good and so was the Guinness, I think everyone was of the same mind that used the parking, I just felt a bit sorry for the poor stressed guy behind the bar working on his own. It took a good deal of effort to prise ourselves out of the bar, Val wouldn’t like it if she finished and we were still sitting supping pints!

Val’s cheering squad found a good position near the finish and we made a lot of noise for everyone finishing. Well, Pauline did anyway! Here’s Val coming, big cheers, I’m sure she knew where we were, so did the rest of Tyndrum!

(Something I thought I’d never hear myself say to Val.) “Right Missus, wipe the snotters from your face and we’ll get a team photo!” It was probably more sweat than snot but I’ve never been known for my tact. Splendid efforts from all in the slow team, we did not too bad at all.
What a cracking day, and great to see and congratulate loads of WHW family and those using the Highland Fling as a stepping stone for June. I’m sorry we had to leave straight after the prize giving, I would have like to blether longer but the rest of them had already gone back to the cars and I didn’t want to walk home! See you all in June though; hopefully get a chance to catch up then.

Next time I run down Conic hill it’ll be June and I won’t be dressed as a fairy but I’ll certainly descend like one. It’s now Wednesday and my quads are just starting to return to normal! Thinking ahead to next year’s relay, what am I going to wear?

Lochaber Marathon

2010-04-19T14:43:00.002Z

I am pleased with my run at Lochaber, my finishing time of 4.15 was not going to break any records, (the last time I ran 4.15 for a marathon was last year at Loch Ness two weeks after doing 107 miles at the 24 hour race!) But I’m happy with it because I’m now fully recovered from all the bits of illness and injury I’ve had since the start of the year.

I was able to increase my pace from picnic pace to work as hard as I can but don’t expect miracles cause I’ve done bugger all speed work pace. (My splits were around and between 9 ½ and 10 ½ minute miles) I might be fat and slow but at least I can run consistently! Well, I might not really be that fat but I am still closer to my Christmas weight than my fighting weight, and I blame having a skinny fast twin for my Dawn French body dysmorphia! Pauline, go get yer lunch from Greggs ya scrawny git!

Lochaber marathon is a lovely route out and back along the Mallaig road and the weather was fine and sunny with a bit of a cool breeze from time to time, perfect running conditions and the view of the Ben was stunning on the way back to Fort William, sparkling snow on the summit in a crystal clear sky.

When I reached the turn around I decided to count the runners I’d pass on the way back and how many would pass me. Only one guy went by me just after the turn and I overtook 17 runners. With about one mile to go there’s a silly wee hill which can be a bit of a bugger if you’re knackered, I’d just got myself up it then I heard from about 10 yards behind a bloke coming up the hill, I didn’t look round but I had a good old laugh to myself, what an effort it must have been for him, he sounded like he was giving birth! I’m not particularly competitive against other runners but after running the last twelve miles with no one passing me I wasn’t going to let some drama queen (no offence to the real DQ) get me in the last mile. I pushed as hard as I could, he was still close behind and thought he might try for the heroic beat the girl over the finish line as we hit the grass of the shinty field, I pushed even harder for the last 100 yards and I got there first. Yaaay! Small victory, I know but it made it fun.

Well Done to Gail, second lady and with Pauline’s steady last long training run with loads of layers for her warm weather training before heading to Brive, France for the 24 hour World Championship and Linda, knocking a lump off her previous marathon time to win the 1st team prize.

All the best to Gail, Bob Allison, John Pickard and Ray McCurdy, well done for the marathon and now have less than a week for a wee taper before the Highland Fling!

Fling recce – leg 4

2010-04-11T20:27:00.007Z

What an absolutely beautiful, brilliant day! Allan drove up to Beinn Glas and “Carnegie Ladies in 4 fun”(Fling relay team, Val, Loiuse, Gillian and me) got out the car, it was just before 10.00am, we faffed about a bit getting ready, it was going to be a cracking day.

Ditched the rain jacket, took off my long sleeved top and just went for one short sleeved layer!!! First time this year, (had my gloves on for a wee bit at the start though) Had a bit of a bother with my camera, it turned out the batteries were duff, they are rechargeable ones but they must be at the end of their life, gave my camera to Allan, no point carrying it if I couldnae get it to work properly, I had my phone, so did Louise but the quality on my phone isn’t so good but it’ll have to do.

Eventually after the faffing with my camera we were off up the new track from Beinn Glas, but not too bothered with it, the wee chippy stones will have bedded down by June. Started off at a lovely pace but soon Val was pushing on, this was going to be her leg in the Relay and I thought she was practicing race pace. I quipped to Gillian, “Is the Real Food Café closing half day today?” We got reprimanded for doing picnic pace. Louise ended up with the short straw and kept Val company, Gillian and I continued at picnic pace, I’ve probable still got a bit of the D33 in my legs, (my excuse for a gentle pace) besides I wasn’t wasting a smashing day pushing the pace, anyway I came to the conclusion I can only run on the WHW at WHW race pace and for some daft reason I had my backpack loaded with enough food for a full day out but only ate one wee Mars bar but drank a fair bit of the litre and a half of my diluted ginger beer, only because it was so warm!

Photo pinched from Louise, a heidless chicken going through the crack yer heid tunnel

Heading into Tyndrum I felt sweat trickle down the side of my face, that was a novelty and the first time I’ve broke sweat this year.

Allan drove to Tyndrum then ran down and back, and enjoyed his day, it’s a quality run doing the rollercoaster both ways.

When Gillian and I approached Tyndrum Louise and Val were near where near where you cross the water, we slowed when we reached them we were told “Keep going, we’ve been up to the road and just came back to see where you were!” I said “Ok, we’ll keep running until the road then!” Then out of ear shot of Val, “Well, until Val can’t see us!” But we did keep running until the road though.
When we finished I looked over to the Green Welly, I think it was bring yer bike tae Tyndrum day. I suppose it was the best day of the year so far, I have never seen so many motorbikes and leathers in my life! I have never felt so under dresses in t-shirt and lycra amongst all that protective leather!

We strolled over to the Real Food Café after a quick rub down in the loos of the Green Welly, there were signs in the lavies saying these sinks are only for washing hands and face, that’s ok ‘cause that’s all I washed!! Just as well it was a roastin’ sunny day, we sat outside for our fish and chips. On the way home we stopped in Callender for ice-cream.

I really enjoyed today, brilliant weather, a brilliant route and brilliant company. There was another reason why I thought today was so special. It was five years today that I had a brain haemorrhage; I have never lost the novelty of being glad to be alive. (Oh here she goes, harping on about her health scare again!) I make no apology for that. For one simple reason, when I came out of hospital and was taking tentative steps back to “normal” life the only comment I got was “Oh! I knew someone that had a brain haemorrhage but they died!” Well, now if you know someone who has been in the same boat you can now say “Well, I know someone that went through that and they’re doing absolutely bloody brilliantly!”

I now have a strength that I didn’t have before, there is a bit of a catch 22 going on though, the strength I had from running the WHW gave me the strength to recover but the fact I have overcome my health scare makes me feel invincible, running the WHW or a 24 hour race is easy compared several weeks in the high dependence unit of Edinburgh’s Western General.

There are no limits in life except those that we impose on ourselves. The way I see it, there are no limits only hurdles, you can get over them or kick them down, your choice. Just don’t let anything stand in the way of your goals.

Deeside 33 ½ -ish Ultra

2010-04-05T22:08:00.001Z

I was looking forward to this race but with the wee bits of injury and illness I’ve had there was no racing going on for me, just a good long run on new ground and hopefully with good company too, I wasn’t disappointed, ten out of ten on both counts.

I loved the rules for the race, so refreshingly simple especially with the constraints of all the health and safety bull doo-doo that’s around nowadays!

Deeside Way Ultra Run 3rd April 2010
The concept is simple, turn up at the Duthie park car park in Aberdeen and register and run the first section of the Deeside way to Banchory, check in with marshall, turn round and run back.
Total distance out and back is 33 miles.
No entry conditions apply, if you think you can then enter and do it.
If you get half way and find you can't, phone registration with your race number tell them you are a loser and take the bus home.
Support, there is none required but if you want your mum to meet you half way with a jam sandwich then thats ok with us.
Only one checkpoint that's at half way turn around point.
You get water at checkpoint, anything else you need to carry yourself or get from your Mum.
Cut offs
This is a race for runners it's not for walkers so lets be sensible, I want to be in the pub at a reasonable hour so run as fast as you can.

Sue had entered but decided not to run so she’d brought George (Race Organiser) a letter from her Mum excusing her from the race on account of her sore leg! Ken and Sue still enjoyed their day, they’d brought their bikes and cycled the route.

After a team photo and a few words from George we were off. Settled into a nice steady pace with Mags, although we’d never spoken before I knew her from the WHW and we blethered the first few miles away, (so much so we missed a great big orange arrow painted on the road pointing up to the right), after running up a road, we weren’t confident we were on the right path, it was confirmed when we came to a T junction with no markers, not to worry, just went back the way we’d came until we saw a flight of wooden steps that took us back up onto the path. Oh well, bonus bits for us! We managed to stay on the track for the rest of the way, and a lovely route it is too.

It didn’t take too long for Grant to come loping back towards us, (winning in 3hrs 34mins) then the rest of the field were on their way back with loads of smiles, waves and words of encouragement. First Harrier I saw was Pete then I was well chuffed to see Gail sitting in first lady, she was a bit worried of completing the race, her knee’s been giving her a bit of trouble. She did finish first lady which speaks volumes for the saying “If in doubt just go for it!” Next Pauline, Andrew and Helena were quite close together.

It wasn’t too much longer until Mags and I reached the turn around checkpoint, I smiled at the lady in charge of the clipboard, when she was told I was number 36 she said, “You can’t be 36, I’ve just mark the last lady through as 36!” I looked down at the number on my vest, I know I was reading it upside down but it looked like 36 to me. She scrutinised my number and asked my name, but it took confirmation from the bloke beside her with his camera, checking back his photos to say that the other runner was number 26. I was free to carry on.

Mags and I had just left the checkpoint when I caught my left foot and down I went into the muddiest part of the whole route! I’m glad I chose a couple of wrapped chocolates instead of a jam sandwich at the checkpoints because they stayed safe and clean in my fist. Mags was great, she helped me up, went into my backpack for my wee first aid kit, found me an antiseptic wet wipe for the knuckle on my left hand, it was bleeding a fair bit, as knuckles do when you take a lump out of them. The wet wipe was about as effective as the hankie your Mum used to keep up her sleeve and spit on when you were wee, I was still covered in blood and mud so the next decent puddle I came to I gave my hands a wash.

Mags wasn’t just great company, she also gave me some of her homemade tablet and some of her isotonic juice that I hadn’t tried before, I was happy drinking my own diluted ginger beer but always willing to try something different, I asked if she had plenty for herself, when she said that the more I drank the less she’d have to carry I knew I wouldn’t be depriving her, I offered her some of my mini creme eggs, my staple diet for today, she declined since she’s had problems with her stomach in the past and she was working on eating something small every 15 minutes, a new tactic for today and so far was doing ok with it. We were working well together keeping each other on an even pace, although earlier we both had said that if either of us felt stronger they were just to push on. On the way back at no point did I feel stronger and I thought that if it wasn’t for Mags I would have let the pace go a bit. When we got to around six miles to go we decided that we’ve ran all this way together so we would finish together. I wished I’d paid more attention to landmarks on the way out so I’d have a clue on how much further to go. Then I saw a wooden sign that said Duthie 3 miles. Half an hours running and we’ll be finished. Side by side we pushed on… and on… and on… Where’s this flaming Park? Yeah, down a wee hill and we’re there.

Thanks Mags, you were a great help to me today.

A great big chocolate medal and a bottle of beer, what more could you want.

It was rounded off nicely, Sue had done a brilliant job of travel agent and booked a B&B for us all, Pete had to head back but Ken and Sue, Andrew and Helena, Gail, Pauline and myself had a meal in a lovely Italian restaurant celebrating Gail’s win, Pauline, second and Helena was first old burd, Andrew’s first ultra, (he said Lairig Ghru doesn’t count, it’s a marathon with loose change) and I suppose me bringing up the rear in a style all of my own.

After the finish when someone asked me “Where did I fall?” I pointed down my mud caked left leg and said “On that bit!” with no lasting damage, just a skint knee, a big bruise on my elbow and knuckles that look like I’ve been in a fight. So next year I have every confidence of improving my time a smidgen!

On the bonnie bonnie banks

2010-03-21T14:39:00.007Z

What a cracking run!

After having a few weeks of struggling with an injured bahooky I was back training this week, although a bit on the gentle side. So I thought the best place for a nice easy “time on feet” run was the side of Loch Lomond. There was a group going out from Balmaha up to the Doune Bothy and back, I considered joining them but I thought I’d struggle to keep up and that it would possibly be a bit too far for me on my first long outing in a month and I wasn’t planning to do any hard training, no pushing, just pure pleasure at getting out on one of the most beautiful parts of my country.

So I decided to go from Rowardennan hoping to get up past the Doune Bothy as that would join up all the training runs I’ve done so far this year on the WHW covering from Milngavie to Bridge of Orchy.

The weather was perfect, no wind, just an occasional cool, gentle breeze from the loch and it looked settled. I’d only be going a few minutes when I stopped to take a photo; the loch was a mirror image of the opposite bank, this was a day for enjoying the scenery and I had no doubt I would succeed.

I had loads of photo stops and even just to stand and take in my surroundings, I never take for granted how lucky I am that I have the health to allow me to be here and enjoy each moment.
As soon as I saw the Doune Bothy I stopped and pulled out the wee piece of paper with the directions to Dario’s memorial book that Murdo had hidden near by. I had been stumbling about for about ten minutes unsuccessfully when the gang from Balmaha arrived; I was surprised they hadn’t caught up with me earlier even though I’d had a big head start on them. Jamie found the book and we each wrote a few words.
Keith said “Hey Fi, I’ve something for you!” I laughed when he handed me some sandwiches, cucumber ones, proper triangles and no crusts! Well, he had promised! On the WHW forum, I’d put on a post that I’d be on the route that the group were going but not to knock me into the loch as they went by me as I’d be travelling at picnic pace. Keith had answered that he’d bring the sandwiches, Mad Aussie!

John and I continued up the way for around another mile, John to round up his run to 40 miles and me to join up my training runs on the WHW before heading back. John stayed with me for a wee while before heading off back at his own pace, the sun was out and lovely and warm, I pushed up my sleeves and eventually rolled up the bottoms of my tights, letting the sun shine on my peely-wally pins for the first time this year. I caught up with the group at Inversnaid, they had stopped for a drink at the Hotel but they soon disappeared again. On the first steep climb back to Rowardennan, I brought out Keith’s pieces; they hadn’t travelled too well, a bit squashed and misshapen but they tasted just fine. I suppose they should’ve been accompanied by a Pimm’s or the like but a few handfuls of waterfall went just as well.
I arrived back at Rowardennan pleasantly tired, a run on the WHW always leaves me feeling regenerated rather than done in. This was a perfect day out, the best of weather, scenery and company and also the solitude to claim it all for myself too, another day to file in my memory under “cherish”.

Smokies 10

2010-03-08T15:57:00.003Z

I’ve been kinda struggling a wee bit this past month, and after the 6 hour run at Perth my lower back, butt and hamstrings have been tight, so on the following Wednesday did a bit of gentle yoga hoping that would help loosen me off but on the Thursday my butt gave a twang, I panicked at first thinking it was my usual lower back problem that rears up from time to time but relaxed knowing it wasn’t although it wasn’t any less painful or curtailing, I never ran at all last weekend. Through the week just had a couple of very easy five miles. On Friday gave myself a good going over with my massage doofer and a stretch. I think I over did it, when I came home from work Pete looked at me and said “Are you ok? You look hell of a pale and knackered?” Well, Naw, I felt pretty rough and on a pain scale of 1 to 10 I was on an 8!

So on Saturday I did bugger all except wonder if I should run on Sunday, but DNS was for the sensible and DNF was for wimps and I can proudly say I fit neither category. (We did have one Carnegie DNS, Sue had a number for today but she’d ran the Glasgow-Edinburgh double marathon yesterday so when she text Pauline in the morning to say she wasn’t coming, Pauline replied Ok, rest on your laurels, I laughed and said tell Sue she’s a wimp!)

So headed to Arbroath with a tad of trepidation, I wasn’t looking forward to it but I was going to go through with it. We got there at about 10.15am (11.00am start) Pauline shot off to warm up, I just faffed until it was time to go, with a ladies only race and limited loos the men’s was commandeered, I didn’t worry how long the queue was and I wasn’t worried about a warm up, I was just aiming at getting round without my legs falling off. I took a couple of ibuprofen, not advised for ultra in case they make your kidneys fall out but I thought they’d be the best thing to take for today.

Val, Gillian and I jogged to the start, ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch! I optimistically hoped I would loosen off a bit once we started. In the first mile I felt a bit spaced out, I was puzzling why? I couldn’t pinpoint any one thing so just thought “oh well, things can only get better” I was a wee bit disappointed that I wasn’t able to give this race a blast, it’s the shortest one I run and “enjoy” trying to run fast. I’ve heard all the blurb about short sharp races being good for ultra runners too, but I just don’t possess a single fast twitch muscle, no matter how hard I push, puff, snot and slaver, the time on my watch just doesn’t reflect the effort and a set of inside out lungs is not on my “to do” list. Smokies 10 is both long enough and short enough at the same time to tick all my boxes for speed work!

I wasn’t going to dwell on what was not to be, I was here and I was running, I had loosened a bit and I’d put the pain level between 4 and 5, a lot less painful than I had prepared myself for so that was good and I wasn’t going to let an insignificant thing like the time on my watch or my position on a result sheet tell me what is or isn’t a good run. Anyway there is no such thing as a bad run, just some are more enjoyable than others and when you achieve the goal you’ve set yourself that’s a bonus, I think there was a few enjoying a bonus today as the conditions were good and there were quite a few PB’s.

Back on the flat, I didn’t feel too bad and was able to lengthen my stride a little by the time I got to 8 miles. I’d felt weak on the up hill, I jarred on the down, and the last mile was one of the most comfortable. I was glad that I’d ran after all, hopefully not doing myself any more damage. Now for the important part of the race, I picked up my goody bag, I had a wee rummage, I wasn’t disappointed, yes, a wee bottle of wine, Rolos, crisps, banana, bottle of water, energy bar, gel, t-shirt and shower gel. Then into the hall for rolls, cakes and several cups of tea, there were 11 Carnegie ladies there today and I think we all had an extra cake for Sue, since she wasn’t here to eat them herself, as if any of us needed an excuse for extra cake but Sue got the honour! Pauline was pleased with her run, finishing 10th overall and 1st old lady and with Judith and Isobel picked up 1st team prize.

Walking back to the car Pauline complained about the weight of her bag, well, three bottles of wine aren’t light but she wasn’t sharing. It’s a cracking haul of goodies for the £12 entry fee, no wonder this race closes within a couple of weeks of opening.

There was one last thing to do before heading home, a stop at the harbour fish shop for some Smokies. Yes I know you can get smoked haddock just about anywhere but having an Arbroath Smokie for tea is like drinking Guinness in Dublin, you cannae beat it.

Pauline checked her phone; there was a text from Sue. WIMP – Woman In Much Pain… Well, just a bit of pain really but that didn’t fit!

Ha! You’re right Sue, I’ll join you in that sentiment, no wimps today.

You spin me right round baby, right round.

2010-02-21T15:32:00.002Z

A few months ago when I found out that Draycote Water 35 mile race (7 laps of a 5 mile loop round a reservoir) had been cancelled, I thought “Bummer, it’s a great kick start to the years running” So what can we do that’s similar, and the idea of using the loop at Perth Inches seemed good. I knew the lap well; it was used for the 24 hour race in 2008. The plan was 6 hours or 35 miles whatever came first.

So on the weekend that Draycote would have been on nine of us stood at 9.00am ready to run to our own agenda, Ken and Sue had arrived earlier and had already done a few laps. I knew today was going to be a tough run, this last fortnight I’ve just not felt 100% neither ill nor injured just like a sack of tatties on legs, running has felt harder than it should, and my hamstrings have felt tight, I put it down to three long WHW runs on consecutive weekends and a having a cold. I just need a good stretch and some warm weather.

Although the pace of the group wasn’t fast, I felt I was working a bit more than I should be at the start of a 6 hour run, Pauline left the group after having a 2 mile warm up, her plan was a 14 mile tempo then continue steady for a further 19 miles, Sue and I stayed together for the first hour, I nipped into the loo and then tried to settle into a comfortable pace on my own. I never really found comfortable but after two hours I started to find relaxed. It was perfect day, although pretty cold and frosty but with no wind and bright sunshine, on the river side of the lozenge shaped loop you were running into the sun and when it’s in your eyes it’s natural to dip your head, but your shoulders follow and you end up running in a crumpled heap, not good posture. So I’d lift my face up to the sun, close my eyes briefly, my shoulders would roll back, my ribcage lift, my hips come forward and I’d float… not too sure if a sack o’ tatties floats but that was my mental image and I was holding on to it.

The park was busy, lots of dog walkers, pram pushers, toddlers on bikes. On the grass there was a lot to watch through out the day, in the morning a British Military Fitness session, the shouty bloke in army breeks invited me and Sue to join, I replied. “Well, if you’re still here when I’ve finished my six hour run, I’ll join you!” I don’t think he believed me. There was a rugby match, some runners doing speed work and loads of other runners doing their own thing. Time and laps moved on, the sun move round the sky, Ken, Sue and Jon waved cheerio having completed what they’d planned. George aka Loon Dod had blasting a few laps in shorts and vest, Karen was just finishing and going for a shower, Pauline and Pete had lapped me a couple of times, I hadn’t seen Alyson, we were on the same lap but she was always around half a lap ahead. Just before George and Karen left, a woman had handed them a bag of freshly baked warm muffins, well, that’s the first time I tried a muffin while running, it went down nicely, I think I’ll put them on my grub list for future races.

(Stop press – just had an email from Robin who appeared at the end of our run, he had an inkling who may have made the muffins, he was right. Karen Walters, thank you so much, they were delicious and all gone before we headed home.)

I could see Alyson in front now but she nipped into the loo with around one hour still to go, she caught up with me and we ran the last three laps together, it was great to have company and blether at the end. Both Pete and Pauline stopped at 35 miles. Alyson and I were just a few minutes over the six hours with 22 laps and 32 ½ miles, I was pleased to get over 30 miles since this was my first long run on tarmac since Loch Ness Marathon last October.

When I got home, the door was locked, brilliant, the house to myself. I’d just got up the stairs and my dream of a peaceful soak was shattered. Erin and her friend Denise who’s staying for a sleepover have just come in. Erin had bought a hamster. What! Aren’t there regulations against minors buying livestock? That was a surprise, she’s never said she wanted a hamster, but she’d said she’d texted her Dad and since he hadn’t replied “No!” she took that as a yes. (Pete’s phone was switched off!) “But we don’t have a cage, didn’t they ask you that in the pet shop.” I asked. Erin rolled her eyes and said “Doh! They did ask and I said yes!” Which was followed with “Would you please go up the loft and get the old fish tank down, we could put him in there just now?” Hmm! Just what I needed to loosen off my legs after a 32 miles run and over half an hour in the car, climbing a ladder is not usually part of my post run ritual! Eventually, I left them to sort out the wee guy and I headed to the bathroom when Denise pipes up, “In Store have Hamster starter homes for £10.“ I’m persuaded into having a quick shower so we can head back into Dunfermline and buy the cage. I pulled up outside the shop with five minutes to spare before it shuts. I gave Erin £20 and sat in the car, they were soon back carrying boxes, I was given my change, £1.50, they’d bought the other cage, it was so much nicer and ball for him as well! I’ve been diddled again!

Back home and after a bit of hamster house building I can finally settle down to my usual post run ritual of pizza and wine and to reflect on my quarter day run. It was interesting in the last few laps finding out how Alyson had coped with today’s run since she hasn’t done this kind of thing before, all her training and ultras have usually been on trails, a journey, and had found today fairly tough mentally, it would have been so easy to stop but she would’ve beaten herself up about it later if she had and was pleased that she’d kept going. On our last lap I asked if she could imagine running this lap for 24 hours instead of just 6? “No!” was her reply, I laughed and said “Me neither, well, not today anyway!” It’s just your mind that sets the limits; it’s what you choose for that day. Even when running round a small lap, you do still have a journey of sorts, it just one within yourself where you find hidden strength.

Setting your goal and aiming for it is half the battle, believing in yourself and holding on to that believe no matter how hard the journey becomes, the battle is won.

Conic hill, so good we did it twice.

2010-02-07T19:28:00.005Z

On Thursday, Pauline and I were wondering what to do on Saturday; she wanted a longish run since she hasn’t had one in ages, where as I’d taken myself off for a couple of cracking runs on the WHW the last two weekends, there was a Glee club outing happening, it was a bit longer than we'd planned but we could go if she fancied it.
9.00am. Drymen car park, and a dozen runners were preparing for the off, I got a few admiring comments for my gaiters, even from the guys! There was a few faces I didn’t know but that was soon sorted with a few introductions, I was looking forward to a run with company and a wee blether but as soon as we set off, I thought “Well, I’ll just see you later!” I run no ones pace but my own and wasn’t going to get dragged along. Silke and I soon settled into the same pace, it wasn’t long before Marco and Thomas whizzed past, they were just doing a “wee” fast one, over Conic hill and back.
I enjoyed my run with Silke, although I wasn’t feeling as sprightly as I could’ve, I think the remnants of last weeks long run and cold were still in my system but running tired is no bad thing training for ultra. (Please remind me not to stand next to Silke again, I look like a hobbit!)

We were about 20 minutes away from Rowardennan when Thomas appeared, he was doing a wee bit extra while waiting to pick up Silke as she was stopping here. I went into the hotel, the speedier runners were tucking into bowls of soup and cups of tea. There were more runners inside than you shake a Garmin at, George and Karen and another group had run down from Beinn Glas and were having something to eat before heading back. I just nipped to the loo (very civilised) before heading back, I didn’t want to sit down beside a roaring log fire and get comfy cause I would struggle to get going again and it would give the faster runners something to chase on the way back. Pauline came back with me but it wasn’t too long before Ellen, Donald and Janet caught us up, (the even faster ones had had their soup and left just as I got to the hotel) Donald and Janet soon pulled away but Ellen and Pauline stayed with me. I wasn’t really struggling, I just wasn’t going very fast. (Not that I’ve ever been accused of speed anyway!)

At the bottom of Conic hill the conversation was on the exploits of some WHW runners pushing the boundaries even further, like George’s recent back to front winter WHW and Keith not stopping at the end of last years race and carrying on up the Great Glen to Inverness. How long will it be before these achievements seem normal? I smiled at Pauline’s comment “Well, between the three of us we’ve got eighteen goblets, how many miles is that?”

I was glad to get up and over Conic hill again, I perked up a bit back on the forest track, I was into the last hour of running, it doesn’t matter how long I’ve been out for, the last hour is always good, well, you can always run just one hour!
This was quite a tough run (30 miles on not the most runnable sections) on one of my favourite bits of the WHW. Come to think of it, all 95 miles are my favourite bit! Hmm… but I do prefer Lairig Mor in daylight without eighty odd miles in my legs! But there again that’s what makes it soooo special!

The Monarch and his kingdom

2010-02-01T22:09:00.006Z

I didn’t know what to expect on this run since I’ve had a cold all week and didn’t run Wednesday or Thursday and felt sluggish on my easy five miles on Friday, but Saturday’s weather forecast was for cold, bright and sunny, I wasn’t going to waste a cracking day plodding round a wee route at home. The plan was Bridge of Orchy to the deer fence at Crianlarich and back, last weeks run started and finished at Crianlarich so I thought it would be good if I could link the two runs.
I decided on a just run and see approach, no pressure, if I was struggling I’d just turn round earlier. I felt ok to start and took it gently, but within 10 minutes I stopped to take photos of icicles, and when I got to the frozen waterfall, I thought “Sod the distance, today is too spectacular to waste just pushing on with my eyes watching the ground!” So I scrambled down to the river for a few photos and just enjoyed being there. As I climbed back on the path, two walkers came towards me; with the sun in my eyes they were just silhouettes, it was Ann and hubby, her wee brother was in my class at primary school! So stopped to blether for a bit, they walk the WHW every Easter and today they were doing an out and back from Tyndrum, they had watched The Adventure Show and thoroughly enjoyed it, I told them my plan for today but wasn’t too worried how far I got. Said cheerio and headed on towards Tyndrum, I’d just emerged from the tunnel under the railway line to meet another bunch of cheery walkers; this sunshine certainly makes folk happy.
There were patches of ice and lumps of frozen snow on the path, it was mostly fairly easy to get round apart from an occasional bit where I did a wee bit of arm waving. I took a bit of time picking my way across the water heading down past Tyndrum, although freezing wet feet were not on my to do list, neither was slipping and cracking my skull, I’m a lot more wary on dodgy terrain when I’m running alone. I made it over and then remembered to breathe, skull intact and dry tootsies. Bonus!
My next stop was for a scramble up the lumpy grassy slope to get a photo of the frozen Loch of the Lost Sword, I was having to faff about with my camera batteries, with it being so cold I had to keep putting them in my glove to bring them back to life.
Back on the path I trotted on through Auchtertyre, I crossed the road to climb the hill to the rollercoaster, I checked my watch and tried to work out if I had time to get to the Crianlarich deer fence, I’d had a lot of “time out” taking photos. My original turnaround time of 1.30pm was approaching but I was happy to extend it to 2.00pm, there was nothing really to hold me to a strict timetable except I was to pick up my daughter at her pals house at around 7-ish and that there was a pizza and a bottle of wine waiting for me at home.

It was freezing, the sun never penetrated the trees and there was a lot of old frozen snow and ice to watch out for on the ups and downs but I’ve always thought this bit fun, that’s why I call it the rollercoaster! I pushed on. Two young lads with big rucksacks were lumbering down towards me, I stopped again for another wee blether, they asked me about the WHW race and I asked them if they were camping, they said yes, it was my turn to ask a daft question, “Was it cold at night?” They ask me how far away Auchertyre was. I asked how far away the deer fence was. They said about 15 minute, brilliant, I’ll bash on. Tagged the fence at about 2.10pm with a running time of 3.01hrs, I was well pleased I’d reached my goal, all I had to do now was not to stop on the way back and I’d be back at the car by about 5.15pm. I enjoyed my second go on the rollercoaster, and back on the road towards Achtertyre, as I caught up with the young lads; one shouted “Here’s that mad runner again!” Hee hee, I thought, that’s a bit pot and kettle; I’m not the one sleeping under flimsy nylon in freezing conditions. But apart from the cold they were amazed at how the terrain and scenery constantly changed and were enjoying their walk.

I started to have a wee struggle after Achtertyre and the climb out of Tyndrum was just a slog, it was time for some Mad Aussie inspiration. “Come on Fiona TTFU!” With Keith’s accent, it worked a treat.

The light was starting to go, the few wee clouds were turning pink, I headed down to the tunnel under the railway and met Ann and hubby at just about the same point as this morning, they too had had a brilliant day, I perked up a little knowing I was in my last hour of running, then met the cheery bunch again, they were also heading back to Tyndrum. The sun had gone and it was starting to get dark, so I pushed on playing the let’s see if I can get back to the car without getting my torch out game. My legs were a bit sore and tired now but I was pleased they were also still loose and strong so I pushed on. (Later at home when I checked my watch, I’d been consistent with my split times out and back except the Tyndrum - Bridge of Orchy comparison, on the way back I was 9 minutes quicker than on my way out! I was running easy at the start but wine and pizza has some pulling power!)

I was heading down to the Bridge, it wasn’t totally dark but the light had all but gone, I heard something to my right, I looked across and stopped dead in my tracks, not more then 10 yards away stood a magnificent beast with a royal set of antlers, we stood still, staring at each other for what seemed ages until I was dismissed from his presence. Wow! I briefly thought about hauling out my camera but he’d be gone before I’d manage. I just enjoyed the privilege of my Monarch moment.
What a finale to a day with no expectations, as long as I remain upright the WHW will always be a source of joy!

Crianlarich to Loch Lomond and back

2010-01-23T22:29:00.004Z

It was just yesterday when I decided to have a run on the WHW, well, when Pete said a few of his pals were coming round this afternoon and bringing their guitars, I thought “I’m out of here!” I thought it was a bit late notice to see if anyone else wanted to come with me and most of my buddies were doing the Devils Burden relay today or cross country tomorrow anyway, and the more I thought about it I was looking forward to an exclusive run with numbers limited to one. As much as I love running with company it’s great to go out and have all the scenery to yourself too.
I decided to go down the way from Crianlarich, it’s not a usual starting point for any of my runs so I thought all the more reason to go from there, and I loved going at just my own pace, stopping to take a photo, looking at the scenery without having to catch up with a group. I wasn’t bothered about how far I’d go either, today was about getting out and enjoying a run on the WHW.
It was quite solid underfoot at coo poo corner on the way out with frost and ice on the path but the sun appeared and I had my shadow for company for the rest of the way down. I was looking to turn back at around 1.30pm because I wanted to finish in daylight, I was carrying my headtorch but I didn’t really want to use it. As I plodded on I wondered if I’d get to the top of the loch, one of my favourite viewpoints and pushed on a bit so I was sure I’d get there, carried on down for a wee bit longer then turned back, got back to my favourite spot and spent a good fifteen minutes just enjoying the scenery, solitude and sun on my face with a few thoughts, it didn’t matter my bum got a bit damp sitting on the mossy boulder.

My return journey was a nice steady run back, still taking in my surroundings but it did seem to be a bit more hard work to the crack yer heid tunnel and under the A82, I was back on the road towards coo poo and I was a bit disconcerted that I could see the cattle huddling on the path, I’m not too sure of the protocol regarding cow herding and I remember a couple of years ago we (there was three of us) climbing the wall to go round the beasts because they just wouldn’t shift.

This time I couldnae be ersed climbing the wall or staggering up the rough ground so I carried on running purposefully towards them as tall as a wee 5’ 2” wumin in trail shoes and a woolly hat could be, working my pink gloved hands forcefully and being as big as I could be. Well, there was a bit of relief! The first one moved up the hill, followed by a few more, there was a lot of mooing going on and one stayed on the path, had a bit of an adrenaline rush going past it, and headed back down the the hill to my car.
My first run on the WHW this year and thoroughly enjoyed it, today was one of those runs that confirm why I run.

Decisions, Decisions

2010-01-19T13:54:00.002Z

At the weekend I was mulling over my races for this year, more or less had a racing plan sorted then the Montane Scottish Ultra-Marathon Series http://www.sumschampionship.org/ reared its exciting head! I’m no Richie but what can I fit in around the plans I’ve already made?

Well for starters I’ve Smokies 10 at Arbroath on March 7th and April is going to be busy, I think I’ll do Deeside Way Ultra 33 on the 3rd, two weeks later Lochaber Marathon on the 18th and the following week I’m doing a leg in the Highland Fling Relay on the 24th. Just one race in May, Glenrothes 50km on the 9th and in June the Isle of Skye half marathon which is a week before the WHW but it’s purely a social run. A wee breather in July until the Tour of Fife which this year is its 10th year and is going to be a bit special, the dates for it still have to be confirmed but presuming around the same time as last year I’ll earmark 28th to 1st August until I know for sure. As soon as I saw that the Speyside Way is making a come back I have to do it, I have some unfinished business with that race, it was last run on Sunday 10th April 2005, I never got there, that was the morning I had a brain haemorrhage.

Now from September is where things go up in the air, I’ll only need one more race for the sums championship and the River Ayr Way Challenge would fit in but if there is a 24 hour race at Perth I want to do it but the cogs of power move slower than I run! So that’s no definite. I was thinking about Tooting Bec 24 hour race in October but I haven’t missed a Loch Ness Marathon since it started and I’ll be doing that, so should I just forget about a 24 hour race this year… decisions decisions!

2010-01-01T14:37:00.002Z

It was with a little trepidation that I read my previous post. It wasn’t quite the polished article I was planning but you get the jist of what was a highlight for me last year, and next time I talk about footballers I promise not to be so polite and I’ll let you know what I really think! Here’s a wee thing that I am proud of though.

Pauline completed the Marcothon Challenge this morning here’s what she had to say on it.

Done and dusted - Feel pretty pleased with myself that I've completed the Marcothon Challenge - here's a wee report.

THE MARCOTHON CHALLENGE: 2/12/09-1/1/10

Okay - so I started a day late - a great challenge particularly for a period when it can be tough to get your butt out of the door. Originally I thought the challenge wouldn't be too difficult in a physical sense - the greater challenge would be logistically fitting it all in - however I didn't reckon on the Snow Queen and her icy grip on the land. 31 days running consecutively with the final 16 days on snow, slush or ice. At first if was fun, trotting about shin deep in snow in the style of a prancing pony but the novelty of the snow wore off fairly quickly and the real challenge began. I wasn't training for anything specifically, I wasn't running hard enough or far enough for a physical benefit - so why was I doing it? I decided that this was more of a mental toughness challenge - a display of determination. The final week was pretty much the minimum 25 minutes, one night I forgot my head torch and ended up like the caged lion pacing to and fro along the edge of the grassy field within the limit of the street lights. One particular sub-zero evening Tim suggested (in the interest of safety) that I run around inside the house! Nope - I don't think so - how to make 25 minutes seem like an hour! The final day today - a great wee session in the daylight doing hill reps over Whinneyburn Ridge (it sounds dramatic but it's just a hump of grass at the back of the house). Challenge complete - I'm smug and happy!

A summary: total miles 125.93 (white miles 50.56). Favourite run on Christmas day - a beautiful bright sunny day which caught the snow crystals and I felt like I was running along a carpet of diamonds. My least favourite run on Boxing Day probably due to the quantity of bubbly consumed the day before. Longest run: 8.37 miles Shortest run: 1.75 miles
Will I do it again - most definitely!

Pauline Walker

2010-01-01T02:49:00.001Z

Weell dae I want to post this but I’m half a bottle of wine and two goblets of Talisker down and still up but folk have be posting their revue of 2009 and I thought I’d do the same . I enjoy running and FFS I I got to run for Scotland! Now how the * did that happen!!! I run purely for fun but when I knew I was selected for Scotland that was a different ball game (not that I compare fanny around with a football on a Saturday afternoon anything to do with athleticism) I took my training serious ! I had never taken my training so serious in my life, there was no way I would let Scotland down! From Jan 1st I worked my socks off! I enjoyed the WHW, Pauline was keeping me company, but I was a bit worried that it wasn’t a PB but the WHW was for love of running not for PB so I didn’t drop my expectations .
Keswick was hard, my quads were sore after 50km and the smell of the diesel from the generators made me feel sick, My feet were bleeding but I never stopped moving forward. I ran 107, miles not my goal but in comparison with Pauline and Lynne that was no bad at all! We brought home a bronze medel!!! What ever 2010 bring as long as I can put one foot in front of the other I’ll be happy.

2010-01-01T02:49:00.000Z

Glen Clova Half Marathon

2009-11-15T16:42:00.002Z

I was looking forward to this race since I’ve had an easy time training wise last month, and it’s now time to get back into doing a bit of effort. It’s been ages since I’ve done a half and the last one I raced was Glen Clova 2004.
On the drive up you knew it was going to be a wet one, pouring rain and a lot of water on the roads to be waded through. At the hotel before the start it was lovely to receive complementary comments from folk I didn’t know about the West Highland Way race on the Adventure Show and that the Beeb had done a good job of getting across how special the race is.
One girl who spoke to Pauline and I was quite anxious about the race, she’d just gotten over a virus and wasn’t sure about running in the cold and wet conditions, we suggested she didn’t race it, just keep her jacket on, stay warm, run easy and enjoy the scenery, she was still concerned about the distance as she hadn’t gone over 12 miles this year concentrating on 5 and 10 kms and getting some cracking PBs at them too, so I then suggested that she should just run the first three miles and if she still wasn’t happy turn back. She then thanked me and said she knew she’d feel better if she spoke to me! I thought that was so nice of her to say that, then my next thought made me smile. “Aye, speak to Nutsy, that’s bound to make you feel sane!”
I did the usual dither on how many layers to wear, I settled on tights, long sleeved thermal, vest, hat, buff and gloves, I didn’t feel it was enough but I was planning to run hard so hoped that would warm me up! We were off, I wasn’t sure how to pace it at all, the last races I’d ran at a fast pace (well, fast for me!) was the Tour of Fife series, there’s nothing tactical there, you just go like the clappers and hang on! I settled on going as fast as I could while staying relaxed and controlled. At about 5 miles I felt as if the sock on left foot under my heel was rumpled, I’ve never had that happen before I thought it must be because my feet were soaked with wading through the floods then I felt my toes hang over the insole, it wasn’t my sock that was rumpled at all but the insole, well, I’ve definitely never had that before! I considered stopping to sort it but then thought, it’s only 8 miles to go, if I wasted time flattening it out would it just rumple up again? I’ve coped with worse, I’ll just keep going.
I did a bit of reminiscing during the run; it was at Glen Clova half many years ago I met my first West Highland Way runner, Stan Milne, and I had the incredulous look on my face that I’ve since seen a few times on folk myself. One year the road was just an ice rink for the whole way, another year the gales were so fierce on the second half when we turned into wind the mile markers had been blown out of the ground and were hurtling up the glen towards us. Pauline and I had ran together that year and we worked as a team, taking turns in front of each other for a hundred pace then swapping over, we went past a lot of other runners that day. Today the wind was kind to us, there wasn’t much and it was behind us on the return, I remembered my old tactic in half marathon running, work to 10 miles then kick, I tried but I’d already been kicking from the word go! It’s an undulating route and the biggest hills are saved for the last couple of miles. The thought of stovies, beer and warm dry clothes spurred me on to the finish. Pauline’s scientific speed work she’s been doing paid off, she was second lady, Gail was third, and a sack of tatties in a Carnegie vest (aka me) made up the team, we got a bottle of wine each for 4th ladies team. I like the way Forfar do the prizes, first 15 men, first 15 woman irrespective of age category and 4 mens team prizes and 4 ladies team prizes.
After a big plate of stovies, three pints of a wee beer exclusive to the Glen Clova Hotel, I was warm and dry, and could contemplate my race. I was happy with my effort considering how rusty I was at this distance but I hadn’t forgotten how tough a half can be. Well it was my 104th!

Tinto Hill Race

2009-11-08T13:40:00.004Z

Not my usual kind of race but this is my third running of it and in memory of one of the good guys taken too soon, George Murdoch our club’s hill running captain who died suddenly in 2007 and to pay tribute, Carnegie turn out in force at Tinto.
It’s a lovely short sharp run and not too scary for non hill runners but a fine challenge all the same, just over 4 miles with 1500 feet of ascent. In 2007 I ran with Rabbit the Bruce fastened to my bum bag, he’s a well travelled bunny supporting myself and other Carnegie Harriers during many a tough challenge and it seemed fitting for him to run Tinto in support of Gail and the club in our loss which started a wee tradition for him so as long as I run Tinto so will the Bruce.

Before the start I had the usual debate with myself (and anyone else that would listen) on how many layers to wear, it was a fine day, some sunshine, no wind to speak of but a wee bit of cloud on the top, I decided on long sleeves, tights, vest, Buff round my head, scarf and gloves but Mehrnaz in her crop top made me shiver! (I’m just a cauld tattie!) It’s a fairly easy gradient to start, nice and run-able but it’s wasn’t long before I was putting in wee walks with hands on my thighs, then it was mostly big walks with wee runs in between. Then the fun started! It’s an out and back route and the leaders were careering back down with wide eyeballs focussed on the ground, expressions of concentration, a smidge of fear and a body barely under control, the Bruce and I were concentrating too on trying to pick a good route up and not get killed in throng of descenders! It wasn’t long until I burled round the cairn and started my turn with the waving arms and boggling eyes but I managed to stay just about under control, I didn’t squeal once but the Bruce had both paws in the air shrieking “Go faster!” I bounded down to the finish thinking I must do more of this stuff, it’s brilliant!

(photo Andy Sim)
I was quite pleased with my time after having a fat lazy October, I must be refreshed and raring to go again since I was 5 minutes faster than last year.

A wee WHW run

2009-10-31T22:36:00.005Z

Had a lovely wee run on the WHW today and mostly on my own with the scenery all to myself . This month Pauline has been concentrating on road speed (while I’ve been concentrating on having a fat lazy chocolate and wine fest!) she did a hard session yesterday and is planning a long run tomorrow so she was happy to fling me out at Drymen. After having an easy month I took it at a nice gentle pace towards Conic hill, before reaching the hill a breeze swirled around me, I thought “Ooww, ma bum’s freezing!” then “Ooww ma bum’s wet!” Aw naw! A bladder malfunction and not of the old lady Tena moment variety before you jump to conclusions, my drinks bladder was leaking, my knickers were full of diluted ginger beer. I took off my backpack and checked out my bladder, I hadn’t screwed the lid on properly. Doh, what a numpty! Oh well, a sticky cold butt for me for the rest of the run then. Yeech!
I loved the colours of today’s run, all autumnal and a rainbow, but I never got any rain and I had a shadow a few times too. Pauline was meeting me at Balmaha, I tried phoning her on my way down but just got the polite wumin saying “the person you are calling is unavailable” so carried on down to find Pauline sitting in the car reading her mag and listening to her music, she was disappointed that she didn’t get to walk up to meet me, she did keep me company until the start of the climb out of Balmaha, I did suggest that she’d get some good photos at the top of the climb but there was a bit of a bus trip of folk on the way out of Balmaha so she just said I’ll just drive to Rowardennan and see you there.
The section between Balmaha and Rowardennan is one of my favourite bits of the WHW and I was happy trotting along today but one of the thoughts I had today was that on this run my Achilles tendons were a bit tight my hamstrings felt a bit tight too and I was glad that I was stopping at Rowardennan, just a piddly wee bit of the WHW. How the hell do I manage to run the whole flaming way in June? Because I choose too! That’s why.
Pauline was trotting out from Rowardennan to meet me looking for about an hours run and sure enough there she was after I’d got to the top of the steep, steep climb just after the university field station, she was faffing about taking a photo of a fallen tree, some how I knew she’d be there (nothing to do with going down the hill meant that you had to climb back up). We had a lovely wee run back to the car, then a flask of oxo, a couple of cheese pieces, a happy heart being back on the whw. Headed home for wine and pizza.

A Monster Fun Run

2009-10-07T11:24:00.005Z

I knew Loch Ness marathon was going to be a fortnight after the 24 hour race but that didn’t deter me from entering it. It’s a cracking run in smashing scenery and I’ve done every one since it started so I couldn’t let that go. I didn’t run at all for a week after Keswick, then just a couple of easy five or six milers just to make sure there were no lasting damage, just very flat batteries. Loch Ness was just going to be a pleasant trot round with no pressure of going for a time, I took my bumbag loaded with wee Mars bars, a rice krispie square and a gel (a token gesture that this was a race), extra hat and gloves, (with running a slower pace I didn’t want to get cold) and my camera, (any excuse to stop).
There was a wee problem with the buses, three didn’t turn up and one broke down, so me and a couple of hundred other runners ended up having to stand all the way to the start once we got shared out onto the rest of the buses. The start was was delayed by nearly an hour, it didn’t bother me at all but I think it might have messed up some folks race plan who had timed their eating precisely for a 10.00am start. I gave a rueful smile when I handed my bag over to be placed into the van that would take all baggage back to the finish; I was relieved I’d emptied my water bottle before hand, with the skills of proper airport baggage handlers; they were lobbing the bags in like shot putters doing a time trial!

The pipe band marched through the runners then we were off into the sunshine and scenery. I felt just a wee bit of an ache in my left knee and my ankles which I have never had before, my muscles didn’t have any bounce in them at all but apart from that I was perfectly fine enjoying my run. Another reason why I enjoy this race so much is that it brings back loads of childhood memories, the field with the static caravans used to be a small campsite.

We spend all our summer holidays swimming in the loch, dangling on tree swings and Nessie hunting. I remember one year being taken over the loch in a wee boat to visit a Nessie Hunter that was living in a wee shed for the summer near Urquhart Castle, I don’t remember much about him except he had freckles, long ginger hair and big fluffy orange sideburns (It was very early seventies!) it wasn’t ‘til years later I found out it was BBC’s news correspondent Nicholas Witchell, he’s even published a book about his Nessie research. I’ll need to read it some day.
Enough happy memories, time to get back to some happy running, and I certainly did that, the support at Dores was great; the crowds were as loud as the supporters on a Tour de France mountain stage. At the drink station, in preparation for the long slog of a hill I took a couple of paracetamol, ate a Mars Bar and drank a fair bit of Lucozade, which is something I usually find makes my tummy a bit yeechy but today it went down nicely.

As the miles clocked up I actually felt better, I was in my happy plod for days pace and at 20 miles I got a real buzz from the thought “ The last time I had 6 miles to go I’d already run 101 miles and that was just a fortnight ago!” I found that hard to believe and I’d done it!!! I had another thought. “There are no limits!” and thoroughly enjoyed my run into the finish. Pauline missed me finishing, my fault though, I’d predicted a finishing time somewhere between 4½ and 5 hours, but was pleasantly surprised to finish in 4.15 hours, I must be recovering from Keswick better than I thought.

Gail's report from the Commonwealth Championship 100km

2009-10-01T10:25:00.002Z

THE COMMONWEALTH CHALLENGE, KESWICK

I was always planning to go down to Keswick to support our 24 hour runners, but when I was selected to run in the 100K race (6 weeks before the event!- plenty time to prepare then…) I was so pleased to be going down as part of the running team. To be taking part in such a big event and running for Scotland again. Who couldn’t be chuffed to bits. As part of 4 runners in the 100K ladies team, I was the slowest on paper. I hadn’t even run the qualifying guideline of sub 9 hours, and in the overall rankings I was very low indeed. I was going down to Keswick with a few goals. Firstly I wanted to enjoy more of a 100K than I’d enjoyed before i.e. more than 4 hours. I didn’t want to be last. And if the team did win a medal I wanted to be a counter in the team. I wasn’t going for a time as I knew the course was hard and hilly and a PB was unlikely. The 9 hour time was more of a benchmark than a goal.

We arrived in Keswick on the Wednesday night, attended the opening ceremony on the Thursday morning. We then went along to Fitz Park to see the build up and start of the 24 hour race. The atmosphere was great. After a few hours Steven + I went to recce the 100K course and had a wee half hour jog on the course. We then went back to see how the 24 hour runners were getting on. Lynne was wobbling a bit, but the rest were OK. She soon recovered and they all seemed settled into the race into the evening. It was great to have the opportunity to support them, but I was aware I shouldn’t overdo it. Very difficult not to get wrapped up in it though. I was quite happy jogging back and forward. Much better than standing still. After our dinner, I went back to the B+B to get a good night’s sleep while Steven went back to support overnight. So much for a good night’s sleep! I hardly slept a wink thinking about everyone else in the park. I kept phoning for updates. Finding out they were going through really difficult patches didn’t help me sleep at all. After breakfast, we headed back down to the park to watch the last few hours of the race. Richie was in a bad way and had made the decision to stop till the end of the race. His tank was completely empty. Fiona was in walk mode now, Lynne was run/ walking and Pauline looked the strongest. The last hour was amazing as Pauline looked like there was an outside possibility she could make 200K by the end of the race. We were all doubtful but Sue was not going to miss the opportunity to push Pauline as hard as possible to achieve this. I’ve never seen anyone push themselves like it and the last lap was quite the most remarkable thing I think I’ve ever seen. To run the fastest lap of the race after 24 hours. Everyone was screaming at her. I was running along trying to keep up with her, screaming at her, with tears streaming down my face. “Where’s the 200K marker?” she was shouting at Steven. She passed it and kept going till a minute or so later and the hooter went and it was all over. It is the best finish to a race I have ever seen and I was so glad to witness it and be part of it.

And what an inspiration to go into the 100K with. I slept well that night. I was so knackered from the night before. I had been quite relaxed about my race until the Friday night when I began to get a bit irritable and uptight. I was nervous the next morning and strangely emotional. This doesn’t usually happen to me. Must be Lynne rubbing off on me! It was great to see people come down to the start of my race – Simon, Lynne, Sue + Ken, and Steven and Val were still around before they headed up to the support point at the lake. A few hugs later and we were off. It wasn’t long before we hit the hills. I knew they were coming and was prepared to take it as easy as possible. I settled into 2nd last place very easily and didn’t try to chase anyone, despite them all pulling away from me. After a mile or so I got chatting to a Canadian girl, Laurie. She was the only person I really talked to in the race. We passed each other a few times then settled down when we got to the end of the lake. It was good to see Steven + Val. I felt more secure knowing they were close if I had any problems. Then I got into a rhythm going up and down the lake. It was also great to know Simon + Lynne were up the other end of the lake to support me. Especially when they must have been exhausted themselves. Then as time went on Ken + Sue appeared on the loop and supported me for several loops as they walked the length of the lake. Then the dulcet tones of “Happy Birthday to you” could be heard in the distance. The twins had arrived! Then seeing Richie at the other end. It was great to have everyone there supporting us all. After 5 laps of the lakeside I was beginning to tire. But hey, I’d got a lot further than in my previous 100Ks before feeling too bad. I was determined not to walk at the feeding stations unless absolutely necessary. I couldn’t wait till the last lap so I’d be homeward bound. The race had changed over a few hours from Izzy being in front, to Sandra, then me, positions changing all the time, but as time went on they seemed to be having more trouble than me. Lucy was looking strong and it was good to be able to watch the race unfold as she moved into third position. Everybody was so supportive of each other, men and women, no matter how they felt. We really were a good team. The girls knew I was on for a possible sub 9 hours, in the later stages, and they were shouting at me and willing me to do it.

I walked at one feeding station to drink my Ensure plus – otherwise I’d have worn it rather than swallowed it, and walked for about 20 seconds at 85K just really to gather myself before the final push home. I was knackered but knew I could keep going and after all, it was meant to be downhill all the way home, with just a few wee hills on the way. Well, how wrong was I? These “wee hills” were more like mountains and they just kept coming. When I hit the final big hill I decided walking would possibly preserve some energy and I’d be just as fast. I even had my hands on me knees at one point. Had I entered the hill race by mistake? I saw Murray at 95 K, a very welcome sight. I’d have one gel (which had been doing me well all day), some water then I’d kick for home. Instead, I had 1 mouthful of gel and vomited it all up. But I felt better for it and left with my bottle of water, hoping I wasn’t going to have a nightmare last section. But tired as I was, I kept the pace going. I ran down the main road knowing it was all downhill from now on. I could smell the finish. Thoughts of Pauline’s finish flashed through my mind. I knew sub 9 hours was possible. I wanted it so badly. I entered the park, Ken was shouting at me, gave me the saltire, where was the finish? Did I have to run all the way round the park? No, just to the red flags he shouted. My head said go for the sprint finish, my legs said bugger off! I almost fell over the line, into Simon’s arms for hug then promptly vomited again! – NOT Simon’s fault! I guess I did push myself a bit!...

Then I saw everyone there looking so pleased for me, hugs galore. Who’d have thought it? Sub 9 hours on that course, yeehaa! What a day, what a weekend, what a birthday! Not bad for an old woman! (and I’d finally got the qualifying guideline to be at Keswick!) I feel now that I justified my selection into the team. And we got a silver team medal! Previous 100Ks had been dominated by being miserable for the last 5 hours and saying I never wanted to do it again. This time I never really had any major low points in comparison. Or maybe I’ve just forgotten them already….. Not long after I finished I knew I’d want to do another. I felt much more experienced going into this race and felt I ran it sensibly. I witnessed Lucy having a good run, and Izzy and Sandra have bad days at the office. We’ve all been there with the bad runs, but all had great days too. We just seem to take it in turns. All the great performances are inspirational, but equally so are the gutsy ones to get to the end.

It was a tremendous weekend. Special for the Carnegie team – the runners and the support. So good to share it with such good friends. And to make a lot more friends besides. The runners are nothing on their own. Never more will you see that, than in ultra running. Can’t wait to do it all again.

Gail Murdoch 2009

Commonwealth Championship Keswick 24 hour race

2009-09-25T11:53:00.012Z

Commonwealth Championship Keswick
24 hour race
A year ago when I qualified to run for Scotland it seemed like a dream and as time and my training progressed the reality started to sink in and the month before I could think of nothing else. There were a few wee hic-cups, I was quite concerned about not getting any kit, I wasn’t looking for a pile of freebies just a vest that fitted, which after a wee alteration was fine, the race organisation had problems with accommodation and the Scottish team were only informed where they were staying just six days before the event, but Pauline and I had decided earlier to take up the offer to stay with Ray and Jorie, our family who live in the area. So with everything eventually organised all I had to do was relax and run.

Ray took us to Fitz Park in plenty time to pick up two race chips (one for each shoe) and get prepared for the start, a few final words with Ken who was doing my support, some team photos then I just sat and chilled until race start. I wasn’t nervous, I just don’t do nerves, running is something I love and I’m privileged to be able to do it. There was no doubt in my mind that whatever happened during this race it would be my best effort for Scotland.

12.00 noon. A wee lump in my throat, running for Scotland is now a reality. Pauline stayed with me for the first lap before settling into her own pace, I repeated to myself “relax and enjoy” as I settled into my race. My watch can hold 100 laps so I decided I’d log every second one, just counting all the even ones holding the lap I was on in my head just like I do when I’m counting swimming laps, Ken would also count my laps, there were official lap counters as well as the chips on my shoes, but mistakes do happen, but with belt, braces, and a couple of bits of string, I was confident I would have my laps counted accurately and at 1.005km a lap I was hoping to do quite a few!

The weather was good, half the lap in the warm sun, half in the cooler shade of the trees and breeze from the river. At round 50km I stopped briefly to loosen my shoe, it just didn’t feel right with the chip on it. A few more laps and my right quad felt a bit tight, I focussed on staying relaxed and easy, Richie went past me, “How ya doing?” I asked, “A’m f*cked!” was his answer, (You can take the laddie oot o’ Fife but…) I cringed; it was way too early to sound so bad. Mind you it wasn’t long after that I had my first wee struggle, my stomach was a bit queasy and my legs felt tight and sore.

The best thing about running a race round a park is that you can see and talk to all the rest of the runners whether they are fast, slow, having a good spell or struggling, Sharon Gaytor never lapped me without some lovely words of encouragement. One Aussie girl, when she realised who I was running for said “Ah! Scotland… home of the brave!” I made a mental note to self “Hold on to that thought!”

At around 9.30pm I decided to stop counting my laps, I never look at my watch when I’m racing anyway (I always run to my body and I can’t make out the wee numbers without glasses these days) Ken was giving me my splits and I was on schedule with my race plan. The painkillers had kicked in and I was managing to eat again, time to relax put my music on and cruise. For the next 3 hours I felt as if I was floating round knocking out laps of 7½ minutes or just under, I knew it wouldn’t last but I savoured every minute while it did. I crashed back to earth around 1.00am and spent the rest of the race maintaining forward motion while trying to balance food intake against throwing up, managing pain (counting the hours until I could take more paracetamol) drinking coke and coffee to ward off the side-ways stagger and head jerk of falling asleep on my feet! On one lap I smiled as I followed Lynne doing the stagger and nod off thing, I caught up with her and we chatted each other awake until the next caffeine hit. I started to get a bit stroppy, when Val was doing a brilliant job of encouraging not just me but the whole team; I ungraciously answered her stirring words with “I feel sick!” Ken had his job cut out for him when I wanted my jacket on, I wasn’t stopping, he had to walk behind me, taking the safety pins from my number attached to my fleece, I removed the number on my front, I did make it a bit easier for him and nipped into the loo so he could find time to pin the numbers onto the number belt. I was now wearing five layers on my body and two on my legs and eventually warmed up a bit. What did raise the spirit was seeing Ray, Jorie and Adam (English with a bit Welsh… or is it the other way round!) pop up around the course waving Saltires and Rampant Lions! The birds started their dawn chorus and the sky slowly lightened, we knew we were in bronze medal position but it we couldn’t let it go, New Zealand were still working hard too. My stomach was dodgy, my toes were blistered and the pain in my legs intense, but it was only 24 hours and for Scotland and for that reason alone it wasn’t hard, running is always a pleasure and a privilege. I wasn’t going very fast but there was no way I would ever stop.

Pauline and I were doing the Clash of the Ash shout and Sharon still waved as she went past working on her race winning PB. With 1½ hours still to go the blister on my right pinkie toe burst, I looked down at my foot and the blood oozing through the white mesh of my shoe wasn’t a pretty sight. I was working on a long walking stride, it was either that or a short mincing shuffle, but I felt the walk was more productive and with a longer stride my feet hit the ground less often or so I thought! I didn’t know what distance I’d done, I knew it wasn’t a PB but still the best I could do on the day. With ten minutes to go, I shouted to Ken “Gimmie ma flag and I’ll run!” I took the corners and tied it round my neck, my superman cape! Except I was Saltire powered, I left the pain and blisters behind and breathed and pushing hard, there was a thirty second count down. Aahh! I struggled to get the knot out of my flag, but I succeeded and finished with my arms raised above my head and my Saltire flying behind me. 172.820km or just over 107miles. Bronze Team Medal.

Ken stayed with one of my race number placed on the ground to mark my finishing distance and Val walked me back to our camp, I was relieved to sit down at last, Richie and Lynne beside me, I was informed Pauline was lying in a heap just up the path a bit. Simon with the cast iron guts took my shoes off for me and put on my sandals. I started to feel light headed so they got my lying down. Pauline was now brought back and she was lying down too. We were covered with warm clothes and our flags draped over us. Ken’s quip of “This is when they usually slip you over board!” brought laughter all around, there’s always a sense of humour with ultra no matter how bad you feel. Now every runner has had DOMS (delayed onset muscle stiffness) I now had instant onset muscle paralysis with light headedness thrown in for good measure. It took a great team effort and a chair lift to get me into the back of the car where I lay with a bucket at my head (thankfully I didn’t need it but I’m glad it was there), Pauline went home in Adam’s car. When we got in Adam and Ray made sure we were as comfortable as could be expected and left us to sleep for a bit. After the tender loving care of Jorie and her magic tomato soup we slowly re-entered the land of the living, enough to enjoy a glass of bubbly that Ray produced for medicinal purposes before bed time!

On Saturday, Ray, Pauline and I went out to the 100km route, it had stunning scenery but not very spectator friendly, there was a 2km walk from the car park to where the runners turned, it seem to take ages to walk along but I’m sure it did my legs some good. I wasn’t very spritely on my pins but there was nothing wrong with my voice and arms to cheer and applauded the runners through. We headed back to Fitz Park to see the finish, we missed the leaders, but was in time to celebrate Gail breaking nine hours and on her birthday too!

This has been a brilliant event for Scottish ultra, Bronze Medals for the men and ladies team in the 24 hour race. My Braveheart award goes to Richie for battling away with severe stomach problems and finishing on his feet, and in the 100km race, Bronze for the men and Silver for the ladies. Sandra gets my biggest Braveheart award, battling a severe ankle injury to finish. Although great achievements are justly applauded it’s the inner battles against adversity to finish no matter what is at the heart of ultra.

My apologies to the hill runners on Sunday, I never managed up the hill to cheer you on but made a decent effort from the grass in the park!

Standing on the podium to receive my Bronze medal will stay with me forever, I had a small emotional moment but I don’t think anyone noticed. Next time though I hope they’ll be playing my tune!
Fiona Rennie

I'm ready

2009-09-10T11:19:00.005Z

In 7 days I’ll be standing on the start line at the Commonwealth Championship 24 hour race and I am ready. My training has gone well, apart from a wee blip of a week off with a strained back last month, (its fine now). I’ve been alcohol free for a month, I haven’t ate any rubbish, I’ve even curtailed my chocolate intake which has been amazingly easy, with one thought “This piece of chocolate or 200k!” That just proves what this means to me, I’m even a couple of pounds lighter than my usual fighting weight. My ipod is loaded with a playlist of the inspirational, the loud and lively, the fast and furious to keep me going in the wee sma’ oors. My theme tune from Perth, Clash of the Ash by Runrig is there and Born to Run from the Boss will probably find itself on repeat for a while too but here’s my opening number, give it full volume and I bet it’ll wake you up, if it doesn’t yer deid a’ready!

My food box is loaded with mega calories and inspiration. My vest was at first too wee, then too big but with some small alterations it’s now just right! Even Rabbit the Bruce’s vest has had some alterations.

My goal. I’m aiming high, 200km 13 km further than I got at Perth, and with the words of Dario’s encouragement “i was bursting with pride for you in Perth when you qualified. as for 200 k, you got to have targets, without them you would never have made it to ft william all those years ago. you aim for it, you never know what you might get.”
One thing I know for sure, it’s going to be the best effort of my life and at no point will I stop. In 23 years of running I have never DNF’d and there is now way I’ll do it in a Scottish vest, if I have problems, I can slow down, if I spew, I’ll spread my feet wide and keep going, I will finish on my feet whatever distance I get.
Yesterday noticed that a list of athletes is now on the website, http://www.cumbriacommonwealthchampionships.org/ there are some strong teams with world class athlete entered. But there’s one thing that I have that they don’t, the heart and soul of a Rampant Lion. ROOAAAR!!