Moray Coastal Trail 50

At the beginning of the year, I was looking for an ultra to make a good long run before this year’s West Highland Way Race, and the Moray Coastal 50 looked promising, I was a wee bit concerned with just five weeks between the two races, it might be a wee bit too close for me, but looking at the route, it’s awfy bonnie, isn’t too technical underfoot with no monster climbs, also a generous time limit of 16 hours. Sue was eyeing it up too, so we entered. 

After watching Debbie and Kyle’s race briefing a few days before the race, the description of  the route didn’t mean anything to me, so I decided to put the GPX file on my watch. I've never done this before but thought it might be useful since I’m not familiar with the area or been on the route before. As much as I’ve had a watch with all the bells and whistles for quite a while, I tend to just press go when I start and stop when I finish, so I suppose it’s good to get the hang of some of the technology available to me, but I don’t have the inclination to find out what all the numbers blurb on the app mean, I’ve been running to feel for thirty-eight years, and I’m not going to let a whippersnapper attached to my wrist tell me how to run!  But what I do love about having a clever watch is after a run, being able to look at a map of where I’ve been, then the route makes sense to me. 

We had accommodation in Portknockie and arrived early Friday afternoon, in time to have lunch in Cullen (of course it was Cullen Skink! My favourite).

We had a wee walk around the Bow Fiddle Rock and harbour to stretch the legs, and a wee practice of getting the gist of the GPX on my watch, then a chilled out evening, (just one Guinness)  before preparing for an early start, a 4.00am alarm, loads of porridge, Ken was happy (or pretended he was) to get up early and drive us to Forres for the 6.00am registration. I tried to keep the faffing to a minimum before a 7.00am start.   

It was a misty morning and Windy Wilson promised a roasty toasty day for most of Scotland so hopefully it will burn off soon and we’ll be working on our runners tan. 

A lone piper in the mist set the scene for the start of a race. After a few words from Kyle, we were sent on our way.

photo from Stuart Ross

The first 6-ish miles were on tarmac, Ken was at Findhorn to give us a wave before he headed off for some Cullen Skink and a round of golf at Cullen.  

Sue and I have done a lot of long runs together and are fairly evenly matched pace wise but during races we tend to do our own thing with no pressure on each other to keep up if one of us is running well, but for this, our plan was to run together just having a grand day out, tourists on the hoof. From Findhorn I felt we were settling into the race, now scampering through dunes, it was lovely to see the piper again.

What a beautiful route, with a meander through forest trails to the first aid station with our drop bags, then on through coastal villages, bonny beaches, cliff top paths with the haar coming and going between the sunshine.

It never got really roasty toasty although my arm warmers came off and my sleeves folded up, with the damp air and a gentle breeze, it was pretty much perfect conditions for running. 

It wasn’t too difficult following the route but on occasion it would’ve been nice to have a reassuring race marker. Sue kept the navigation on her watch face, on mine, I had total time and distance, with a wee green arrow pointing the route direction when I held my watch level. It gave us peace of mind that we were heading the right way but with a race where you more or less kept the sea on your left, we shouldn’t get horribly lost.

After picking up our second drop bag at Lossiemouth and going over the bridge we were a bit dubious we were going the right way but Roberta, the roving marshal on her bike put our minds at rest,

photo from Roberta Walker

it was a vast beach in the haar and lovely to follow her tyre tracks in the hard packed sand before heading on the section described by Debbie and Kyle during the race briefing as “three miles of hell!” I thought that sounded a bit harsh, but now that I’ve done it I can safely say it wasn’t my favourite bit! The sea has pushed the shingle so high you can’t see the sea, you’re trying to pick the best path through soft sand, shingle and tussocky grass by the side of the war time sea defences, huge concrete blocks and pill boxes. To occupy ourselves we counted the blocks and worked out that there’s around 500 every mile! Eventually we turned inland towards Garmouth and our third drop bag, then onto a recently resurfaced old railway path and across the river on the Spey Viaduct, a fine example of Victiorian engineering. 

Once heading back to the coast I remembered I had run this path before! It was a long time ago, in 1999 I made my debut at 50km, running the Speyside Way 50km, held in April finishing at the Spey Bay Hotel (now replaced by houses) and organised by Don Ritchie. I ran the race four times and 2004 was the last time for me, it was held one more time in 2005, I was entered but was a DNS, on the morning of the race while still at home getting my porridge ready, I had a brain haemorrhage, which scuppered a few more races that year but it wasn’t too long until I was back running, seven weeks to be precise, just a gentle saunter round the Skye Half Marathon.

The winding forest path from Spey Bay shows a lot of damage from Storm Arwen in 2021 but it’s still pretty, I think it was somewhere between Portgordon and Buckie we saw a dolphin! Wehay! That put a spring in our step! Sue and I were still tootling along nicely, just as well, there were a few wee cheeky climbs especially the one out of Findochty, short and sharp, but once up, a bonnie undulating scamper along to Portknockie and past the Bow Fiddle Rock, then I’m glad my legs were in fine fettle for the steps down to the beach and to the finish in Cullen.

 

Mission accomplished! A grand day out in stunning scenery, ok, we’ll need to go back to see the bits that were lost in the haar. But I loved it all! At no point did I weary or struggle, and finished feeling I had loads left in the tank. A perfect final long run before the West Highland Way Race. 

photo from Stuart Ross

Thank you Debbie, Kyle and all your cheery, enthusiastic marshals for putting on a great event. Also all the runners we had the pleasure to chat to en route, some doing their first ultra, well done, you picked a cracker for your debut!

For those with number OCD, it does measure a wee bit short of 50 miles, don’t let that put you off, it fairly makes up for it in stunning scenery, a beautiful route doesn’t need to conform.
Will I run it again? Yes! Definitely! Who’s coming with me? 

A round up of 2022 and grand plans for this year

As 2023 is settling in I’m looking forward to my plans for this year with the same thought as

usual at the beginning of January.  

All roads lead to Milngavie. 

Any race I run before June is part of my training for the West Highland Way Race. 

Before I start my endeavour it’s nice to look back on last year and wasn’t it lovely to get back to meeting

pals at races, either running or marshalling. 

I started 2022 with a steady plod round the Falkirk 33 mile Trail Ultra at the beginning of February, a

four mile loop with a perfect mix of mud and hills. 

Cameron Wright Photography

Quite a contrast to my next race, my 28th Smokies 10, the only race I run with the tactic of go-hard-and-hang-on. Having honed my running style to a minimal effort short stride to suit ultra (aka a shuffling sack o’ tatties) I don’t have the ability for short fast stuff but this Ladies Only 10 miler is great fun. 

Next up was the Gathering of Awesomeness on the Inches at Perth. I was sucked along by

inspirational athletes performing wonderful  achievements in the Anglo-Celtic Plate and the open races,

finishing the 50 km around half an hour sooner than I expected. 

photo from Steve Adam

In May, Sue and I headed North East for the inaugural Formartine and Buchan 12 hour Ultra, starting at the Maud Station beside the Railway Museum and running 4 miles to Auchnagatt, a pretty trail on an old railway then turning round and coming back the same route. With it being continuously out and back I loved being able to see the faces of everyone running. 

I thoroughly enjoyed it, working on pace management so I got back to Maud after 7 out and backs with around 15 minutes left to round up my distance to 61 miles, going round the wee loop at the station. I’ll look forward to doing it again some time. 

Next up was my 24th Isle of Skye Half Marathon, a drookit  and blowy run with Pauline but fun to catch up with friends in the pub afterwards, the Tongadale was warm and dry. 

A week later, Sue and I were side by side in Milngavie for the West Highland Way Race, we stayed

more or less together until Auchtertyre,

Sue left the checkpoint before me and I never saw her again until the finish in Fort William, she had a wonderful run picking up her second Goblet. The weather deteriorated late afternoon but after stressing the earlier cut off I now had plenty of time, so I just relaxed and enjoyed being back on the West Highland Way regardless of the wet and windy conditions. It was just wonderful to be there, it never stops being special. 

photo from Adrian Stott

The plan after the West Highland Way was just to rest and recover, ticking over nicely until Glenmore 24 but three weeks before the race Covid caught up with me, I felt quite rough, typical flu symptoms for around three days then I did improve to feeling more like a right nasty cold, I rested and slept and rested some more before finally testing negative after ten days, I went out for an easy 3 miler five days away from the race, I didn’t cough up a lung so I hoped I’d be fine to run at Glenmore, I did consider moving to the 12 hour but if all went well, I wanted to cover 53 miles so that would give me 1000 Glenmore miles since the first race in 2011 and sticking with the 24 hour I’d have plenty of time to do that… if I felt ok. I took it really easy after the first couple of laps fuelled by the excitement and joy of being there, and actually sat down to eat for the first time during a 24 hour race, I’ve always just eaten on the hoof before but with a steady approach and a lot of walking when it was dark I finished with a surprising 82.75 miles, I did not expect that! 

photo from Donna Wallace

After that effort, I was giving my body the rest and recovery it deserved. I didn’t run for two weeks then another two weeks of gentle tick over leg stretches before joining Lucy and Kenneth celebrating the 20th Loch Ness Marathon, we’re the only three that have completed them all, we were generously given free entry and a huge hamper of goodies. 

photo from Loch Ness Marathon

After Glenmore I felt I just lurched from race to rest and recovery with no time for training. My legs felt

heavy running the Coigach Half Marathon the week after Loch Ness, a beautiful route with Pauline with

stunning views of the Summer Isles and Stac Pollaidh. 

photo from Dave Cross

Next up was the Glen Ogle 33, another enjoyable plod round a bonny route in soggy but not cold conditions. 

Michael Philp Photos

Lucky for me, I’m not motivated by the time on my watch but the scenery and the camaraderie of those I’m with, just as well, as the week after I was running the Dava Way! Although I’ve never been daft enough to run two ultras a week apart before, I wasn’t too worried.  Being an auld warhorse with donkeys years of experience I know how to run tired, so I engaged perma-shuffle (good posture and minimum effort) and enjoyed another new race to me, a beautiful route starting in Grantown-on-Spey and finishing in Forres, mostly downhill with a fun wee climb just before the end, an excellent choice for a first ultra and I met loads of new buddies doing just that. 

photo from Iain Young

There was time to sneak in another new race to me before the end of the year, the Shale Trail 50km, a small field, low key race just a half an hours drive from home on the 11th December, Sue and I ran together, a lovely route from Winchburgh to West Calder and back the same way, another race where at some point you got to say “Hi” face to face with to everyone running.

With a December race the weather could play a big part and it did, a touch of snow on the route for starters, but it stayed dry, I wouldn’t say it warmed up much, there was a wee skim of water on the ice on the return, mainly along the canal which meant I was channelling my inner penguin, little steps and lots of them, a bit of mincing and a belief that as long as you don’t change speed or direction and your feet keep up with your body running on ice is perfectly fine. Both Sue and I finished together without any mishap. 

photo from Lothian Running club

I don’t usually run as many races as that a year but after the past few years of race famine I was happy to go for a feast! Also sneaking in a couple of ultras at the end of the year put me in a position to plan for something special this year. I have now entered the races I’m aiming to do to make my goal happen. 

I hope I will be successful in finishing the Falkirk 7 hour, the John Muir 50km and the Moray Coastal

Trail 50 mile in my build up to my 17th West Highland Way Race. I have entered one more race,

Glenmore 24, with a bit of luck and health, this will be my 100th Ultra and wouldn’t it be wonderful if I

clocked 100 miles. None of this is guaranteed and just being able to run is a luxury and a privilege

denied to so many, but it’s a thought that makes me smile and a grand goal to aim for.

Glenmore 24 2022

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

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

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

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

Photo from Bill Heirs 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yan's soup in progress 

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

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

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

Photo from John Munro 

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

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

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

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

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

photo from Donna Wallace

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

photo from Gillian

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

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

Here’s my Glenmore statistics, 

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

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

2012  109.01 miles, 1st Female

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

2014  89.56 miles 

2015  107.35 miles

2016  103.26 miles

2017  102.04 miles 

2018  102.61 miles

2019  103.36 miles 

2021  98.02 miles

2022  82.75 miles