The West Island Way

Ages ago Vicky invited me through facebook to an event, The West Island Way on the Isle of Bute.  I said to Pauline, do you think running 29 miles three weeks before the WHW race is too much? She said no, so I asked her if she’d like to come as well, and we accepted the invitation.

So yesterday I picked up Pauline at the back of 6.00am and never got home until the back of 10.00pm and the time in between was absolutely brilliant!

We met Silke at Wymess Bay for the 8.45am ferry; Vicky met us off the boat and drove us to the start of the West Island Way, we didn’t have long to wait until the rest of gang arrived, Ada, John, Terry, Sue and Drew.  There was a bit of a cool breeze but it was a bright sunny day, the weather was going to be good.

Customary photo and we were under way; I tried not to stop too often to take photos but I was clicking away, sticking in a bit of fartek to keep up.  I was in a new place making new footprints and I didn’t want to miss anything.   The West Island Way might be short in comparison to other long distance footpaths but it is super concentrated in terrain and scenery, rough shore path (with a notice to prove it!)

 tarmac road, farm track, rolling hills, forest track, open moor, beach, and even a golf course.

(love this photie)

A big thanks to Tommy (Mr Vicky) and their lovey assistant, Arran, for meeting us at Loch Fad with bottles of water and bars of chocolate. We had another stop at the Ettrick Bay Café where I have never seen such huge cakes, the size of the lemon meringue should be checked by the Guinness Book of Records and I had the biggest slice of carrot cake I’ve ever seen!  

The last few miles of the route have recently been changed. There are marker posts but no beaten track so with a bit of bog hopping and a lot of heather bashing

we made our way up the hill before dropping down and round into Rothesay and the finish.  Tommy and Arran were there with bananas, cans of juice and certificates for our achievements. 

Silke, Pauline and I will have to get better organised for next year, the others stayed overnight. There is talk of a winter run, count me in, this was my first visit to Bute and it won’t be my last.

Vicky, thank you and your family for your hospitality and showing us your island. A brilliant day out with great company, a day that’s going to keep me smiling through the dreaded taperitis of the next three weeks!

The Happy Highland Fling

Ok, technically it was The Hoka Highland Fling but this is my race report and I'll call it what I like. 

3.00am alarm!  I groaned and smiled at the same time,  an absurd time of day to get up but with the promise of an adventure the rude awakening would be well worth it.  At 4.00am Ken and Sue were outside my door, they had already picked up Pauline and we were in Milngavie at the back of 5.00am.  It was freezing cold but the weather looked promisingly dry, and speaking to George, Karen and Mike, (they'd just ran down from Tyndrum), apart from a couple of places, the going under foot wasn't too bad at all considering all the rain there's been.  I was sorry to hear that George had a duff knee and it scuppered their plans to do a double and run back up.  Ken was able to give them a lift back up to Tyndrum as he was heading up to Bridge of Orchy for a bit of Cally Challenge practice before picking us up at the finish.

My plan was to run WHW race pace until coming off the rollercoaster above Crianlarich then give it some welly for the last few miles.  I took my fastest WHW race splits as a rough guide which was the 2008 WHW race, in that year I got to Tyndrum in 13hrs 37mins, and Fort William 27hrs 11mins it was my fastest to Tyndrum in recent years but not my WHW PB, that was in 2007 and I reached Tyndrum  in slower time of 13hrs 50mins and Fort William in 26hrs 14mins. (As John K says "Slow and steady wins the race.") I always run to my body and don't pay any attention to time although I was wearing a watch and carried a piece of paper with  the times I expected to go through the checkpoints, purely for peace of mind of getting to Beinglas before the cut off.   

Consistent should be my middle name.

	WHW2008 Splits	Fling 2012 Splits
Drymen	2.19hrs	2.16hrs
Balmaha	4.06hrs	4.04hrs
Rowardennan	6.00hrs	5.59hrs
Beinglas	10.08hrs	9.56hrs
Tyndrum	13.37hrs	13.03hrs

Rightio, that's the boring numbers blurb out of the way, back to the important part of having fun.

After a short race briefing from John, us old gits and girlies were off at 6.00am, I shouldn't have been surprised to see some patches of white frost on the path, it took a good few miles until feeling had returned to my fingers and that was wearing gloves!  The sun was rising and bringing a bit of warmth with it, the sky was clear blue with a few wee fluffy clouds, it was never going to get as lovely and warm as last year, I kept my arm warmers on all day but we were quite lucky weather wise after how horrible it's been lately.

Pauline, Sue, Robin and myself stayed together after the start although there was no plan or pressure to do this, we were just happy running the same pace,  there were others around the same pace and nice to blether with friends old and new.  (Pauline's back had been a bit stiff and sore after gardening , she did say she might just run with me, I did cheekily warn her that I wouldn't wait)  Going through the Garadhban stumps Robin got a bit of ribbing, he was the only bloke in a group of about fifteen woman.   Thomas aka Crazy German from the 7.00am start whooshed past.  That was the start of the faster runners coming by, the Fling is a unique event where  every runner respects and encourages everyone else whether they are doing the ultra or the relay, apart from two ignorant gits that went by around Rowardennan without a word or a nod of existence with their ears plugged into music. "Oi! Get back on the treadmill you soulless numpties, you don't deserve the WHW!" is what I would've shouted if they could've heard me.  I don't think they realised what they were missing,  the Red Squirrel in what was left of Garadhban, the cheery  bird song and the distinctive Cuckoo and Woodpecker  are just a few of things that make it special for me.

I carried my camera and made them stop on Conic hill, with a view like that you can't just watch your feet!  

Thanks Helen for taking this one for me

Balmaha was busy with marshals working their socks off finding drop bags, after getting mine, I didn't stop but walked on shovelling in a rice pudding, I wanted to finish it before passing the bucket at the side of the road before going up the hill so I didn't have to carry a sticky plastic spoon and carton to Rowardennan.   Pauline and Sue were soon back with me but we'd lost Robin, he takes  a bit longer at checkpoints.  (Robin, learn to walk and faff!)

Dawn joined us along to Rowardennan, and was happy to stop for a photo on one of the wee steep  hills, I am very persuasive though. "Do you lot want a butt shot or do you want to turn round and smile!"  I did take a few butt shots but no close ups! more photos here

As we approached Rowardennen we were warned there was a fallen runner  just ahead, I envisaged someone sitting  tending to a bloody knee or the like but it was a shock to see Ellen lying on the path covered in survival blankets, we stopped to see if there was anything we could do, she had a paramedic and friends with her so there was nothing else we could do but it felt wrong to leave her.  (Ellen, wishing you a speedy recovery, hope the broken arm/shoulder heals quickly xx)

At Rowardennen I was again the first of us out of the checkpoint, I stuffed my drop bag goodies into my backpack and walked up the wide track glugging down my Yazzo banana milkshake, Pauline and Sue took a little longer topping up on some water.  It wasn't long until Dawn was back with us too, maybe I shouldn't have been so quick, I think I left my bag of Mini Cheddars lying on the ground, but Sue being the generous soul she is shared hers when I was disappointed I didn't have mine.

Once the path narrows I love the way it flows with all the ups and downs,  running with the flow I always feel good here, I think the constant change of stride and pace keep the legs fresh, I dropped behind the others a bit after stopping for a pee, kinda tricky to find a secluded spot without climbing the hill or dropping into the loch also timing it without the youngsters in the 8.00am start and the relay at the 9.00am start hurtling past! Luckily I managed without being caught with my bahooky hanging out, also wearing a wee kilt does offer a little modesty if I was.

After the Inversnaid checkpoint we were back together, I don't eat or drink much after Inversnaid with having to hang on to the trees and boulders, my short stekky legs and creaky knees  were going cautiously along , I think there has been a lot of erosion since the last time I was along it.  I was pleased to see the flat grassy bit and celebrated with my dinky 150ml can of coke. 

We stopped at Dario's post, my racing hip flask was shared among us and as we left the sun blinked through the clouds and shone brighter than before.

At the Beinglas checkpoint I was pleased to see we were well within the cut off and after picking up my goodies from my drop bag I walked up the path drinking my Slimfast milkshake, another runner was looking at his sandwich and said he couldn't face it and it was going to be bird food, I offered him the rest of my Slimfast but he didn't fancy that either, he was still travelling well though and disappeared over the hill

.

It was just after Beinglas, Pauline, Sue and I had decided that since we've come this far together we might as well finish together.  Next thing I knew I'd caught my toe and down I went with quite a clump, my first thought was "Mick Jagger!" I instantly felt a fat lip! I started to get up, Pauline encouraged me to stay down until I gathered myself but I felt ok, apart from spitting mud, "yuk!", I was crunching grit between my  teeth, then thought actually that's a good sign, my front teeth are still there.  I looked at Pauline and asked "Am I bleeding?"  The smidgen of laugher in Pauline's voice spoke louder than her words " Yeah, try not to drip on your white t-shirt."  I can't be that bad then.  Sue handed me a wee pack of anti-septic wet wipes, (sorry Sue, I used them all), I found quite a few stingy bits on my nose, lip and chin.  But apart from that nothing else was damaged, legs fine and no holes in my Skins, camera pouch was a bit dusty and my hip flask which was clipped to the chest strap has a few scratches but luckily nothing to stop me running.  It didn't take too long until I was back in my stride.  I was still moving well, my legs felt supple and strong. 

We picking a careful path through coo poo alley, and moved well on the rollercoaster.  After crossing the road Pauline put her race head on, looked at her watch, and said it's close but we might finish under 13 hours.  She was pulling away, Sue and I followed putting in a good effort, it was the plan but I had a wee conspiratorial whisper to Sue "I don't think we're going to get under 13 hours, are you worried?"   She wasn't, that's a relief, but we weren't slacking,  Pauline was feeding us chocolate coated coffee beans, and I was breathing hard.  I heard the piper, we were nearly there.  

photo from Muriel Downie

We finished together in a row of grinning Cheshire cats in 13hrs 3mins.  Pauline was happy to lay the blame of failing to finish under 13 hours on me stopping for a lie down, that's ok, I can live with that, it was a brilliant day and mashing my moosh wasn't going to take the shine off.  

Training and thoughts for this year’s WHW

January 1^st is the date I usually start to focus and train for the WHW but this year has been a wee bit different. Clearing Mum’s house was a tough job, and all my running was without real purpose other than comfort and I managed to clock up 155 miles for the month with my longest run being just short of 16 miles going from Balmaha to Rowardennan and back the weekend hordes of WHW family were there doing various distances. It was good to be there, enjoying the route, the company, and camaraderie in the pub afterwards; this was the weekend we should’ve been celebrating Mum’s birthday.

February started with a cracking comfort run from Crianlarich to Doune Bothy and back, my monthly mileage was 198 miles, again with nothing big but with some quality tempos giving it big wellies. The club organised a new race, Devilla 15km on the 26th, I usually just help out at Carnegie races but I thought I’d have a run at this one especially as there was a bottle of Schiehallion for doing it, so after sitting at registration handing out numbers until 10 minutes before the start, I just had time to nip to the loo before heading to the start line, not what you’d call a warm up but since I was only here for the beer that was fine.  I worked quite hard once I got into my stride, really enjoying my first race of the year (and my beer).

March 3^rd saw me on the start line for Smokies 10, a ladies only 10 miler in its 24^th year and for the first time in a couple of years I stood there without nursing illness or injury so the race plan was to go out hard and hang on, not technically the best race plan but one in the TTFU don’t let go category. I ran my third best for the race; I was well pleased considering this is around my 19^th or 20th times of running this race.  On Sunday 11^th Ken dropped Sue and I at Derrydarroch, he was Munro bagging with his friend and would meet us later at Bridge of Orchy, we had a lovely 19 miles to “Murdo’s Mount” then back down to Bridge of Orchy,

photos perfectly timed to meet Ken, we had the best of the weather, the cloud was low and Ken and Paul only saw mist and rain. The following week Pauline and I did just over 22 miles going from Balmaha to near the Beech Tree and back, she groaned when I whipped out my camera within 5 minutes of heading up Conic hill. “Are you here for a training run or a picnic?”  I answered “I’ve brought food!” She did relax a bit later to say “I think I feel a photie coming on!” when we were in remnants of Garadhban Forest. more photos

Although I hadn’t done any big runs I wasn’t worried, my training has been consistent, knocking out a weekly mileage between 50 and 60 miles feeling healthy and strong. Last week I unexpectedly went over 70 miles, on Tuesday 27^th I did surprise myself with a 32 mile run from Milngavie up past Garadhban Forest and back purely because it was a lovely warm day, even more photos

I only planned to run about marathon distance. I dropped Erin and her pal at the SECC at around lunch time and didn’t need to be back until the back of 10.00pm. So I was happy to use as much of the day as possible, I did need my head torch going back through Mugdock Park not so much to see my footing but to make sure I was heading the right way, I can do Mugdock in the dark but heading the wrong direction it looked quite different.  I had a brilliant day out on Sunday with a group run organised by Mike Raffan, an 18 miler up Lochnagar, it was a bonus to find out we did 5 Munros and a couple of Corbetts thrown in for good measure.  Placing a stone on the wee cairn in tribute to Dario was something I’ve wanted to do for a long time and there was a fair selection of miniatures and hip flasks raised in his name. and here's even more photos

I remember a few years ago Chris Robison (a Scotland Endurance Coach and Scottish representative in the 10,000 metres in the 1994 Commonwealth Games) once said “A farmer doesn’t dig up his tatties to see how well they’re growing!” and with that analogy I don’t feel the need to run myself into the ground during training.  With eight WHW races and four 24 hour races I think I kinda know how to run tired and sore and I don’t have to practice it too often. Except I will be doing the Highland Fling but at WHW race pace until I come off the rollercoaster, then I’ll push on to the finish.

So for this year’s race I don’t know if I’ll be running close to a PB of around 26 hours or if I’ll have “bonus” challenges that’ll slow me down to 34hrs 59mins. But whatever happens I’d be doing the best I can and without a doubt I’ll bash the Leisure Centre doors off their hinges again with a big daft grin on my face!

A wee run with an Angel... or two.

I left the car parked at Crianlarich just at the back of 11.00am, I didn’t get back until around 6.00pm  I covered around 18 mile, heading down the way on the WHW to the Doune Bothy and back.  7 hours to cover 18 miles, and what a brilliant 7 hours it was, ok it wasn’t a hard paced training run but I wasn't there for that, I had a day purely for pleasure with plenty pauses to take photos (I did take around 120 but have whittled them down to around 70) I sat at Dario’s post for a while in the warm sunshine, I smiled at a very comforting thought, with Dario’s experience at welcoming folk after a long hard journey he is now job sharing with Peter at the pearly gates, my Mum would've got such a warm welcome and a huge hug.

At this time of year I wasn’t sure if I’d meet many folk, the first was Martin, near Carmyle Cottage, he was going from the Drovers Inn to Tyndrum and back, training for the Marathon De Sables, then a couple of guys near Beinn Glas , then two young girls wearing their festival wellies, sitting in the sun.  There was going to be a party in the Doune Bothy, I met a handful of guys when I was heading back, they were hefting big rucksacks full of beer and a dart board, I smiled at the last two blokes who were straggling behind, they asked me how far away they were, they had already cracked open their carry oot, one had a can in hand, the other offered me some of his Buckie for my drinks bladder, I thanked him but said I’d just stick to what I’ve already got.  

I met Martin again as he was nearing the end of his run, we blethered a bit and both of us wondered if I’d get back to Crianlarich before dark but it was a goal to aim for and I nearly made it, the moon was rising, the light was dimming and flattening the path, I put in a bit of effort before coo poo junction but was cautious on the stony path afterwards.  I saw a couple of runners heading towards me; I thought “What kind of nutters runs at this time of night at this time of year?” Obviously... it was Jim and Jim!  Mr Robertson was celebrating his 71^st year with running 71 miles, heading down the Way with Mr Drummond from Kingshouse.  It was the icing on the cake to my day to meet them but Jim D can talk the hind legs of a donkey and all feeling from the finger tips on a freezing evening, as I found out when I left them, I struggled with my head torch but I only had the descent through the woods from the deer fence to go and my flask of coffee was waiting... that and my wine and pizza when I got home.

Pace is not relevant when you have the company of Angels.

I think I’m winning!

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...

... 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

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.