West Highland Way Race 2023

My training this year went really well, nothing was a struggle and I even felt comfortable running the Isle of Skye Half Marathon the week before the race at an easy pace in 27C, perfect prep. with the weather forecast.

Ken and Sue’s daughter’s wedding clashed with the race so I had new recruits in the crew for this year doing split shifts. The plan was for Pauline and Val to do the first half using Allan’s car which was used throughout for support, then Allan coming up mid-afternoon in Val’s car bringing Gillian, and new to the team, Jon. Neil after seeing us off in Milngavie went home for a good night's sleep before returning later to run with me from Glencoe. 

We arrived in Milngavie before it got busy, I registered among hugs and wee catch ups, I didn’t hang about too long and went back to the car to chill. I was calm with an inner smile anticipating the adventure. With around 40 minutes before the start I went back into the church to use the loo, and for the first time ever in nearly 40 years of running races, I walked straight into the Ladies while there was a huge queue at the Gents! Equality at last!

Ian and Sean gave the briefing, and at 1.00am we were off! WOOOOHOOO! Carefully up the steps, I tend not to think negativity but imagine if you tripped here!  A big daft grin, absorbing the cheers and applause lining the street and turning down into Mugdock,

I kept my eyes focussed on the path. It doesn't bear thinking about having a stupid race ending stumble here. There’s wee bits of chatter as we all try to settle into our pace. It was really warm, I was brave and didn’t have gloves on or carry them, although I was still in long tights and top (folks that know me are used to seeing me in the runners equivalent of a Duffle coat). Within the trees there was no breeze and I even had a wee touch of sweat on the side of my face, it really must have been warm!  

I had company along the narrow path by Drumgoyne to Gartness; the excited chatter was now replaced by companionable silence as we all settled into our own groove. There were patches of light in the sky, it was fairly clear, with a hint of pink, and heading to Drymen the embers began to smoulder and build strength promising a glorious sunrise. Pauline and Val were in the field, I swapped my water bottle, took a pouch of custard and ditched my headtorch. It still wasn’t proper dawn but I could make out where to place my feet. I kept glancing over my right shoulder as I climbed Conic. I didn’t want to miss the moment when the sun crowned the hill, bringing its light and energy. 

Now it felt like a fresh new day and I settled into enjoying the adventure. Heading down towards Balmaha, I walked the new stone steps very carefully, it’s a steep descent with sharp stones, if you stumbled here your face has a long way to go before hitting the ground, with the chances of a serious head injury,

I wasn’t risking it, besides I was saving my quads for the swoop down to Kinlochleven and the massive haul up back out.

Pauline had walked a short way out from Balmaha with my tub of porridge so I could start shovelling it in before reaching Val at the car with my mug of tea, fresh water bottle and squishy fruit pouch, we swapped over like the 400 metre relay team, without breaking stride and Pauline walked with me towards Craigie Fort to take the mug from me once I’d had enough tea.  

I always love the path along to Rowardennan, through ancient woodland, listening to the birdsong, in my element, at one with nature, my pace flowing with the ups and downs of the terrain until Stumble, Splat, Ooft, Ooyah! Two guys beside me paused to make sure I was alright, telling me to take my time getting back up, but I was straight into “I’m ok!” mode, and was on my feet almost as quick as I went down. My right knee was a bit ouchy but no hole in my tights, a quick rub down to knock the stoor off, then I noticed my right arm had a deep gouge towards my elbow, “Oh dear, this is going to nip in the shower later!” Never mind, a good rub with an antiseptic wipe, let the fresh air at it and it will be fine. I walked a few strides making sure I really was ok before returning to the harmony of where I was and what I was doing. 

I arrived in Rowardennan just before 8.00am perfectly timing a costume change before the temperature rose.

Swapping my long-sleeved top and vest for a t-shirt, saying my clothes can go in a laundry bag except my vest, “Put in a quick wash and fast spin please. I want to wear it at the finish!”. Val spun it round and round in the air for a bit, that’ll be that freshly laundered for later!

Pauline hauled my tights off, shorts on, a check on my knee, just a few wee scuffs, I put my feet on the stool, Pauline wiped down my feet, applied Body Glide, and put my fresh socks on for me, while I spooned in a tub of rice pudding, Val rubbed Sunscreen on the back of my neck, arms and legs, Pauline noticed my bashed arm and offered another antiseptic wipe, and asking where I fell. “On the ground!” was my reply,  I was happy to give them a laugh as I declined the offer, the one stingy wipe I used earlier was fine thank you. (I think the answer Pauline was looking for was, “Near the Milarrochy Tree.” A slick transition second to none, I was back on the trail within 10 minutes. 

On my schedule I wasn’t due to arrive in Auchtertyre for around seven or eight hours so Val and Pauline could head off for a bit of down-time and breakfast before going to the checkpoint. 

The road from Drymen to Balloch was closed for repairs so Val and Pauline drove round by Callander, it was only around 9 miles/15 minutes longer and a lot less stressful than squeezing by the tour buses on the narrow, winding A82, I believe this will be the route of choice from now on. Even after 20 years of supporting, crews never stop learning, they even had time for a tea-break and a stroll in Callander. A relaxed and rested crew is a successful crew bringing the best out in their runner too. 

I tootled along the lochside not worrying about the slow pace, there’s not a lot of running going on, I stick in a few paces when I can, the scrambling, big steps up, over and down the rough, eroded path holding on to boulders and trees gives your running legs a rest and stretch. At Inversaid I pocketed a sachet of baby mac’n’cheese, and downed a wee bottle of flat coke from my drop-bag, I noticed Neil was standing at a table, eating crisps. In my book, that’s faffing, you can eat them on the move. “Come On!” I say as I go by, it’s not long before he catches up, he’s been have a rough patch and says he’s retiring after this year, of course, I dismiss this as the low point talking, we were more or less together all the way to Beinglas, it was a bit special, this was the most we’ve managed to chum each other in the process of earning thirty-four Goblets between us. 

At Beinglas Julia and Chris Finill were there. It was a marvellous surprise to see them, and generous for Chris to take time out of his JOGLE to wish me well, it was technically a rest day for him but he had run along from Crianlairich to Beinglas to see me through, he’s not using the easiest or shortest route but working through the prettiest route having already come along the Great Glen Way and now heading down the West Highland Way on his way south, although Chris is not focussing on speed during his challenge he is no stranger to it, having represented GB at 24 hours and a London Marathon ever present also a Guinness Record holder for having run 33 consecutive sub 3 hour London marathons. 

It was a lovely boost to see old friends, and I set off smiling. It was now after midday, still very warm although there were hazy light clouds preventing the sun beating down, I kept a steady pace so as not to get too hot in what was possibly the warmest time of day as I made my way past Derrydarroch and not coo poo alley, I wholehearted approve of the veritable carpet of that path improvement now compared to the old days! Then into the trees of the roller-coaster and on to cross the road, where, thankfully I didn’t have to wait too long until the traffic cleared enough for me to scurry across.

I nipped into the toilet at Auchtertyre, it was lovely to use a proper loo, be all civilised and have a wee freshen up, washing my face in cool water from a running tap was so refreshing before going to the checkpoint and having my big squishy hug with Robin.

Again Pauline and Val were ready for me, I was looking forward to my soup and new shoes! Technically not brand new shoes, but a change is as good as a rest, the two pairs I was wearing this year were the same two pairs I wore last year and still in good condition, I'm fairly light on my feet and get a lot more wear from my shoes than manufacturers advise. I see no need to change what isn’t broken. I enjoyed my cream of chicken soup heated to perfect temperature with a wee sprinkle of salt. (I don’t usually add any but it has been warm.)

photo - Ben Hopkin

Now over halfway, fed, with a clean face and fresh feet I was in fine fettle and had Pauline for company. Wahey, let the fun continue! 

It was great to blether and run with Pauline and find out news on how others were faring. At Tyndrum the fresh crew had arrived. Allan and Val swapped cars, Gillian was now in charge, with Allan, Jon and Neil following orders. 

Along to Bridge of Orchy Pauline and I were with Donna and her support, Sylvia for a wee while, Donna was having a bit of struggle at that point and looked fairly uncomfortable but Sylvia wasn’t taking any nonsense and kept Donna moving forwards, Sylvia wasn’t taking a no from me either, having noticed my scabby elbow insisted I should have a couple of dressings on it and slapped some on despite me saying it was fine. Good call, thanks Sylvia, my long sleeved top didn’t stick to my bashed bits when I put it on later.

Val was at Bridge of Orchy waiting to pick up Pauline from her running stint before they finally stood down and headed to our accommodation in Fort Bill for a well deserved relaxing evening, starting with a shower, a “ping” dinner, a bottle of wine ( I didn’t know they were having wine until the following day but I wouldn’t have grudged them, it was well deserved) and a comfy bed. A crew's first priority is to look after themselves and not run themselves ragged looking after their runner, support have the hardest job!  

At the checkpoint I had two courses, finishing what was left of my chicken soup, then some rice pudding for dessert and the pièce de résistance, my first mug of coffee in over three weeks! (I’ve been doing this for a number of years now and almost guarantees I fly up Rannoch Moor!)  

Now with mug in hand and Allan for company, we head up and over Jelly Baby hill, Mike is doing a grand job with his Jelly Babies, it’s a long shift. Thanks for being there.

It’s not very runnable, either up or down, on the descent to Inveroran the path was just dust and loose stones, with brief moments of unintentional skitey scree running, not the best moves when I was still trying to save my quads for later! Once on the tarmac we shuffled a run to Victoria Bridge, Gillian and Jon were waiting with some more of my rice pudding,

Gillian swapped with Allan and was coming with me over Rannoch Moor. It is a long gradual slog of a climb with more of a march-with-purpose than running. It was great to catch up since we haven’t seen each other in ages. When we weren't too far away from the steeper climb towards the Peter Fleming Cairn I was delighted to see Donna looking strong and moving smoothly as she went past us. I didn't doubt she’d come through her difficult patch. 

Once past the Cairn I have a wee giggle to myself heading down to the Glencoe Ski Resort, anticipating my sweary rant at the path that deviates from the West Highland Way route to the checkpoint. Before 2010 Kingshouse was the checkpoint, but with more runners and support crews it made perfect sense to move it up to the Glencoe Centre with loads more space for crews to park but I do like my wee traditions and insulting that pile of rubble that masquerades as a path is one of them! 

I’m not a fan of deviating from the racing line and insist on my crew parking as close to the checkpoint at the bottom of the car park as possible, I see no point in wandering up the incline just to come back down afterwards, but since I was planning to change from my t-shirt and shorts to long-sleeves and capri length tights, it made sense to head up to the cafe rather than stand and strip down to my underwear in a chilly car park also the use a proper loo would be good too. Gillian and I headed up with a handful of fresh clothes and were puzzled to not be able to find the toilets, I didn’t realise they had moved since the fire destroyed the building in December 2019. A huge arrow pointed to the repositioned lavvies! Yes, back down the hill and practically level with where we were parked!  Aw fer fu..faff.fu..fuffetyitfeck!  Oh, well, never mind, it was nice to get changed in a warm environment before heading back to the car, I sat in the chair having my Beef Broth while Gillian did my feet with strict instruction from Pauline to floss between my toes with a wet wipe (there is no benefit for me in this process but crew get to laugh at me squirm) before applying Body Glide and fresh socks. This was my third and final sock change. It was worth the couple of minutes each time to proactively have my feet pampered, I finished with just one small blister on the side of my left big toe. 

Neil was ready to go with me as soon as I was sorted, we needed our head torches on leaving after that major faff, it’s been a good few years since it was a goal to be over the Devil’s Staircase before needing to put a torch on, but I’m not disappointed, I’m still here and moving well. Another tradition of mine is to wear the same blue fleece from Glencoe since I first wore it during my PB in 2007, it’s full of good vibes, although this year it was just tied round my waist, the weather never got cold enough to put it on. Neil and I had a fine steady pace blethering all the way up and over the Devil’s Staircase and “Are we here already!” Was something I never thought I’d hear myself say crossing the bridge before the wee climb towards Kinlochleven. 

At the checkpoint I got my big hug from Julie and my team had my porridge ready, it was placed on a comfy seat, “Oh, I don’t want to sit down!” Julie clocked me with my arse on the chair but it was only for the few minutes it took my shovel in a pot of porridge, she knows I don’t do sit down.  My stomach was starting to do the Do-I-feel-sick-or-hungry thing.  Best thing is to give it something to help make up its mind. Neil and I didn’t need our head torches when we left, and I’m afraid I never noticed if there was a gorgeous sunrise this morning. It was head down and haul myself up the longest climb on the West Highland Way, my watch dinged a mile split, 34 minutes!  “Ooft, as fast as that!”, I’m glad I looked after my quads getting here and took a mental note to do more hill work in future. 

Along Lairig Mor the quality of my chat took a nosedive but Neil’s made up for it, as much as my guts felt like they were going through rough seas. My legs were making good headway, pulling it in.  I just slowly sipped a banana and honey milkshake. The breeze was on our backs, we were so lucky with the weather this year. Others might disagree but for me it was just perfect, it was a first for me wearing shorts and t-shirt in the1600 plus miles of my running this race!  

At Lundavra I usually have a mug of hot chocolate with added coffee but I’m glad I had the foresight to say at Kinlochleven I didn’t think I’d manage it and can I have a mug of Horlicks instead, and I went through the final checkpoint the same way as the first, without breaking stride, although I was a lot less spritely, if I paused now, it would be difficult to get going again. 

The last leg has some climbs and descents, and what once upon a time was known to us as the spooky woods, became a scarred and barren landscape after the trees were harvested, and a few years later its green growth is now lush, fresh and vibrant. I’ve seen a few changes over the years and I try to embrace them all as the route evolves, but Hell’s bells and buckets of blood!  What's with all the work on the loooong descent of the fire road down to the Braveheart car park? Didn’t they know there was a race on? Surely the repairs and “improvements” of the track could’ve waited until after mid June! At least it has a year to bed down before I’m on it again.  Pauline and Val had walked out from Braveheart to meet us and see us through. We had a long striding smooth walk with a good cadence over all the loose chucky stones down to the road. Just before Pauline got back in the car to drive to the finish, her parting shot was Graham isn’t too far ahead if I wanted to try and catch him. Ha, ha, Pauline had always been more competitive than me, I wasn’t biting, we’re all just finishing our own race, in our own way. 

Once on the pavement, I found my running legs for the final mile and a half-ish to the Nevis Centre, Neil stayed by my side until we approached the road crossing, he put on a spurt to press the button, stopping the traffic so I was able to cross taking a diagonal line over without losing momentum. my head up, elbows working a strong stride, full steam ahead, my finishing sprint in full flow. Just before the train station we saw Graham walking ahead with a full complement of Haddington runners, luckily one of them saw me and instigated a run, I giggled as I thought  “Wahey, well done Graham! Keep it up or get out the way, I’m at ramming speed!” I’m glad to say he pushed on.  

Round the station, past the buses, across the car park and along the side of the Nevis Centre and into the hall.

Arms aloft!  WOOOOO!  Straight into the arms of Ruth, she held me tight until my emotions were under control.

I was surprised to be told I was the first person to complete 17 West Highland Way Races, Wow! I thought Neil had finished, the last time I saw him he was ahead going into Glencoe, but he wasn’t too long in bringing home his 17th Goblet.  I was glad to see him come in before we headed to our accommodation for a lovely long shower followed by breakfast. Robin joined us and treated me to my scrambled egg on toast. The breakfast of champions and those who knew they needed to eat something but weren't sure what.  

The prizegiving was the special family gathering of love and support that can’t easily be put into words. Cheers, hugs, tears and Goblets.

34 Goblets between us

This year there were 171 Goblets presented, with the ceremony brought to a close with the first finisher (16.35.31 hours) presenting the final finisher (34.22.17 hours) with their Goblet. Each one going home to pride of place on a mantelpiece or cabinet. They may be given to individuals but were earned by a dedicated team willing to give up their time to enable dreams to be realised.  Thank you to each and everyone of you for helping me celebrate what I have achieved. I can't do it without you. From Ian and his core team who is probably still winding up the final details of this year before starting organising next year. Every medic, marshal and volunteer, making sure all the runners get through checkpoints safely.  Also every individual support crew, looking out for not just their own runner but willing to help others.

Finally to my crew, Pauline, Val, Allan, Gillian, Jon and Neil, you all pandered to my Diva Demands, taking loads of photos and giving me more memories to cherish… What are you doing next year? 

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.