Glenmore 24 2026

After this year’s West Highland Way Race I was happy to have a little relax and glide through recovery to taper with no purposeful training, and with the devastating wildfires there was no guarantee that Glenmore 24 was going ahead. But with around three weeks before the race Bill confirmed the race was on, so I took myself off for an eighteen miler and said that’ll do for training then. The past few years we’ve had a holiday house in Aviemore for a long weekend with Ken, Sue, Val and Allan who would swap out shifts between looking after Pauline, Sue and myself, so nobody was supporting for the whole race. This year with other life stuff going on, it was just going to be Pauline coming with me but she would take a break through the night, so at least one of us wasn’t too gaga on Sunday morning. After knowing the race was going ahead I quickly booked a room for us in the Premier Inn for Sunday night, we decided just to stay on the Hayfield for Friday evening with a small tent behind our shelter for Pauline where she could get a wee sleep on Saturday night and I used a pop-up tent inside the shelter and was just going to pop it back into its wee bag in the morning, as I had no intention of having a break during the race. My race plan had no monster miles targeted, I was just going to keep moving comfortably and enjoy it. I would be really pleased if my final distance started with a nine. But I wasn’t going to bust a gut and if I finished with eighty something that would be great too. 

Pauline and I had a good run up the A9 and arrived at the Hayfield around 3.30pm, we just chatted until we were allowed to pitch our shelter at 4pm, but that was when the wind decided to whip up, and with a bit of help from our neighbours, I didn’t do a Mary Poppins hanging on to a corner as pegs were battered into the ground. We were a cosy wee nylon shanty town, crossing guy ropes and huddling like penguins, hoping we’d survive whatever the weather threw our way. 

Fancy dress this year was superheroes and cartoon characters, and since Ken and Sue weren’t coming I asked if we could borrow their Superman onesies they’d worn the last time that was the theme. Luckily they weren’t planning to wear them over the weekend so they were happy to lend them to us. After a couple of beers we headed to our tents while the party carried on. 

photo credit - Bill Heirs

In the morning, the first task was to fold away my pop-up tent, although I had done it myself years ago, I couldn’t remember the combinations of twists to make it fit the bag, after a few attempts to wrestle it into submission, Pauline solved the problem by hurling it out the shelter, over the rope onto the course! Dusting her hands shouting “Done!” Next, we heard Bill shouting “Oi! That’s a time penalty!"  My reply was the default twinnie answer since we could speak, “It wiz her!” Eventually Davie managed to bully it into the bag. I spent the rest of the morning having two breakfasts and faffing with my stuff, the time went quickly before Bill did the race briefing and then time for a team photo before the noon start. Great to see a host of Harriers on the start line. 

Once we were off I knew it will take around three of four laps before I settled into my groove but it was lovely to get reacquainted with the lumps and bumps of the first mile, the long wide path of the second mile, the climbs of the third and the descent of the fourth with the horrible wee steps back into the Hayfield. 

photo credit - Colin Knox 

Pauline could set out the shelter how she wanted it, with a couple of tables at the side of the rope, she wasn’t just looking after me, Donald and Jane were running the 12 hour race and set up with us and she would also be keeping an eye on our neighbours, Norrie on one side and Patricia on the other were on their own and she offered to help them too, Davie also put some of his stuff on the the table and she’d watch out for him too and although not wearing hi-viz this time, (we’re both regular marshals at Rocket Events) she kept her eye on the water tent and replenished the bogs with loo roll when they were running low. (On a side note, it was lovely to have separate male and female toilets too!) 

This year, I was more relaxed about standing at our table briefly, passing info to Pauline and shoveling in some grub, although I still had my wee blue cool box at the top of the field to drop off half finished or empty tubs and mugs for Pauline to collect when it suited her. 

Some laps I had lovely wee blethers and others I was totally on my own with the forest all to myself, I enjoyed both. The weather seemed to be pretty perfect for running, some parts of the loop were sheltered and warm, other sections had a cool wee breeze but not too windy that I felt I was fighting against.  The heather looks gorgeous with occasional sun dappling through the trees, every year, this is one of my favourite images as I climb the hill.

As the evening approached I picked up my yellow top and had some chicken soup.  The sun going down was hidden in the grey sky, aw, no sunset over Loch Morlich this year, but I still smiled thinking of a special moment for me from 2013. The colours of the sunset that year with the lyrics of Runrig’s Heart of Olden Glory brought my emotion leaking from my eyes. I was back where I belonged, running with my ultra family in beautiful surroundings after cancer treatment. A very special memory. 

The night draws in and I pick up my headtorch and MP3 player, I finally feel properly settled in and ready for the dark hours and cruise on. The rain started as a fine wee drizzle but soon moved to bouts of heavier showers, I put on my rain-jacket and cut-off waterproof breeks which easily slip on without having to faff with shoes, as I leaned forward to get them on I grabbed Pauline’s shoulder to help my balance. “OI! That’s my boob!” Oops, my mistake, in my defense she was now wearing what she calls her Andy Pandy suit, a puffy, cosy down filled onesie like a sleeping bag with legs, so pretty hard to distinguish body parts! With a wee wobble and a giggle I got my breeks pulled up. 

At the back of 10pm Pauline headed off to her wee tent for a few hours rest and a wee sleep, but before she went she prepared a couple of small flasks ready for me to pick up when I went through, one with Broccoli and Stilton cup-a-soup and the other with Horlicks. Alan and Hazel were on the other side of Norrie’s wee tent and Alan kept an eye on me while Pauline rested. I tried both flasks, made a face and whinged they were both awfy watery. Alan said he would inform the chef when she got up. With a bit of hindsight, Pauline had said later that if I’d given the flasks a wee shake the sludge wouldn’t have settled at the bottom. Oh well, never mind, I’ll know next time, they may have been yummy given half a chance.  

The night wore on, my gag reflex was on a hair trigger although I still managed to get stuff in, I wasn’t for fighting but I wouldn’t say I was struggling either, this is just what happens during the night of a 24 hour race, moving slowly always trumps staying still.

One lap was a real struggle though, I was falling asleep on my feet, I looked around to see if I could find a pal to chum along but there was no one around me “Where are you Lois?”  I shouted out loud. A few years ago Lois caught up with me while I was doing the noddy dog thing and chatted me back to life. Once back round Pauline was back and made me a hot chocolate with coffee, I asked her the time, it was around 5am. Ah, that explains it then! I should perk up a bit soon, rough spell done and dusted! 

I now left it up to Pauline what I was going to eat next lap, I would usually have porridge but I really didn’t fancy it. So when I got back round I was handed a mug with a chicken and noodle cup-a-soup, I made the face of a petulant child being force-fed sprouts but I had a few spoonfuls and walked round the Hayfield eating it, Pauline was waiting at the top of the wee hill to take the mug back, I handed it over empty, saying  “Ta-dah, I got it all in!” and hoped for a round of applause. 

I was now using another old memory, going back to 2011. Every lap that year, I’d pick the big tree at the top of the steep climb on the right where it levelled out a smidge just before the drink station and I would run until it cranked up again. With a few hours still to go I was still running that short section, going past the table, one of the marshalls shouted “Fiona, you are the strongest runner here!”  I remember thinking Wow! What a surprising thing to say. There’s nothing wrong with a bit of kidology and I would repeat her words to myself every time I was on the hill.  

With a few hours to go I was looking towards the end and trying to work out how much time I would have on the wee loops, as much as they are great fun, more than half an hour on the wee loops isn’t great fun! But as long as I don’t go any slower or any faster I should have around half an hour, so I’ll just keep plodding on, I realise I will complete 22 laps, 88 miles so if I don’t ease off I might squeeze a couple of miles on the wee laps and finish with 90 miles. That will do! I keep a good steady pace and lovely to see a few folk back out on the loop after having a break through the night. I finished my final big lap with 40 minutes to go. I ditch my race vest with Pauline and have a few mouthfuls of water, I don’t need anything now except my elbows to push the effort as I wind it up and push every step round and round, I have no fear coming down that wee steep grassy hill,

photo credit - Leroy Wilson 

I just make sure my body keeps up with my legs, reach the bottom, hold onto the momentum for as long as I can, round the bottom bend and up the long steep wee bastart of a hill

photo credit - Colin Knox 

before John shouts my number for Julie to record my loop, and left turn and fly down the hill again, and repeat, repeat and repeat until 12 noon! Some people are back in fancy dress, Lorna and Mairi are strolling round sipping from a couple of bottles of beer,

I’ll maybe grab a swally when I’m finished if they haven’t finished them by the end. I push on, wee lap after wee lap, the support is loud, Pauline is counting my laps and yelling at me, Jane is taking photos and Donald is encouraging with a cowbell.

Of course I’m on the hill when the hooter signals the finish. I poke my peg into the ground and resist lying down. It would be a struggle to get back up. I walk on up and collect my wee cool box and back down the hill back to our shelter. I have a few moments sitting with a mug of tea, and gradually move about a bit helping a smidge to get packed up. Jane and Donald were a great help getting us sorted and we/they got a good bit tidied before the prize giving. 

photo credit - Colin Knox

Brilliant to see so many do so well, and what a fantastic turn out for women, out numbering the men with 85 women and 72 men on the start line. Also the first five finishers in the 12hour race were women, with the first man finishing in sixth place! Well done the girls! 

What I love about a 24 hour race is the flexibility, everyone can set their own target, and the highlight for me was seeing Heather, having never gone beyond 10km in a race before achieving an ultra with 30.22 miles and what beautiful surroundings to do it in. 

I finished with 90.89 miles, ooft, if I could've made it to the top of the hill I would’ve clocked 91 miles, but I smile and know I pushed the wee loops as hard as I could to the best of my ability, no regrets from me. 

Another magic weekend thanks to Bill and every Rocketeer giving their time willingly allowing every runner the chance to do their best. Whether goals were missed, met or surpassed I hope everyone has a memory to cherish. Thank you all. 

I’ve now covered 1372.73 miles at Glenmore24 with 334 big laps and over a hundred wee laps reaching 32.73 miles! A flaming ultra on that nutsy wee circuit! 

Here’s my stats on how I got there.

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 mouth 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

2020 no race due to Covid 

2021  98.02 miles

2022  82.75 miles, 5 days post covid infection

2023  95.05 miles 

2024  95.38 miles 

2025 60.00 miles, race stopped for safety

2026 90.89 miles 

West Highland Way Race 2026 Twenty Goblets

Training has gone well this year with good outings at Falkirk 6 hour Ultra, Devilla Forest 8 hour Challenge and the Devil O’ the Highlands, I focused on hills, quite often using Sherps Brae in Valleyfield which is a long steady slog, included reps up and down the steps into the wee Industrial Estate, not running them but a strong controlled stride up two steps at a time, advice from Pauline, this was part of her training when she set Scottish records in 24 hour races so there was no disputing it would help, some tempo work, as well as battering down all the hills I came across in training including the fire track down to Fort William at the end of the Devil. That felt the smoothest, easiest and probably the fastest I’d ever done that section, so a great boost that my training was heading in the right direction. 

My crew this year was similar to previous years, working two shifts with Pauline and Val for the first night, handing over Saturday afternoon at Tyndrum to Allan, bringing Gillian and Jon (lovely to have the newlyweds back after not being available last year), also Ken and Sue joining at Tyndrum after one night at home after volunteering at the Summer Spine. Clara was happy to run with me again after her first time supporting me last year (Collective noun for a big team - A celebration).

On Thursday I had everything packed and ready, just leaving a few wee bits of food prep for Friday morning, Val popped along in the afternoon to go over my stuff, pack Allan’s car which would be used as the support vehicle, she timed it nicely to dodge the heavy rain. They would just need to swap car keys at Tyndrum, instead of unloading and repacking all my gear into another car when they handed over. My race food was in a large clear plastic box to make it easy to see where everything was. The clothes I was likely to wear were also packed into another clear box, all placed in zip-lock bags and labeled according to contents and the checkpoint where I probably was going to need them, hopefully making things easy for the crew to lay a hand on them easily.

Then it was the long wait. I had a lie down in the bedroom with the curtains closed for a wee while, not sleeping but resting until Val and Pauline picked me up at 9.00pm. 

I always try to make registration a quick affair with no hanging about or chatting too much, and when jokingly asked for my photo ID I whipped out my Bus Pass, respecting the rules, there might have been someone volunteering I hadn’t met before. It’s lovely to get quick catch-ups and hugs, then going back to the car for a final faff before heading to the start. This being my twentieth West Highland Way Race I felt under pressure to make sure I was successful, not really pressure from anyone else, I hoped anyone who knew what I was attempting would be willing me on through the early checkpoints and on to the finish. I just did not want anyone to be disappointed on my behalf if I failed. On a positive note, the weather looked promising, not anything extreme and hopefully it would stay that way.

1.00am. Deep breath, we’re off! Don’t trip on the steps out of the tunnel! The shouts and cheers of support along the street, sending us on our way were loud and exciting. Turning down towards Mugdock, the path seems very quiet after the noise of the start, with just a few words with folk around me, Neil MacRitchie passed me, never to be seen again until the finish. I was working on Pauline’s summary of my race plan - Run fast and don’t fall! - Never taking my eyes off the path in front and moving the best I could. I carried a sheet with previous splits and mini time checks at various points to make sure I was on target for the Beinglas cut off, pushing a hard but hopefully not a crash and burn effort. Going out like the Charge of the Light Brigade and finishing like the Zombie Apocalypse isn’t a race technique that suits me, this tends to be a rookie error or the silly man thing, I much prefer to have a steady maintained effort from start to finish with a bit of a push at the end, that feels more within my control. But if I end up having to be a walking corpse to be successful, so be it. I was bang on my time check turning onto the road after the Carbeth Huts. On the long straight path of a thousand gates, the heavy rain on Friday took its toll, there weren’t just puddles, with the footfall of the hunners of runners in front of me the soft ground was beaten, whisked and blended like a horrible cake mix leaving it like a glooping, slimy black porridge. Even though I was on a mission, I pussy-footed around trying to keep my feet dry, it was too early for soggy tootsies and the problems that that can cause, or to embarrassingly skite on my arse. I made it unscathed to Garness still on schedule with my time checks and phoned Val to say I was about half an hour away from Drymen where they were meeting me. 

On the road, I was chatting with Jon Steele. It's lovely to see him back. Although it was still fairly dark, mist was lying luminously in the fields below and a few bats flitted about. I wasn't pausing for photos but locked the images in my mind’s album. There was a marshal blocking the turning into the field with a big arrow pointing us along the road. This was an unexpected surprise but it was to avoid cows and their calves, I’ve never been this way before so a novelty to do a slightly longer detour along the road, Pauline and Val were waiting for me at Drymen, I left them my head torch and picked up a banana milkshake, also reassuringly I was four minutes faster than last year. I kept a good steady effort up the forest track with Paddy, running his eleventh West Highland Way Race, he’s also done the Challenge and we chatted about how the route differs heading south. We were to see each other throughout the race, usually him passing me again after a checkpoint. 

It was good to see work being done on the climb up Conic, over time footfall and heavy rain has gouged a trough in the path, at least this year it wasn’t raining, in previous years I’ve felt akin to a salmon swimming up river! The weather was good and looked like it would stay settled, the sun was starting to rise and hopefully it would burst above the hill bringing light and energy. 

 

Yay! I love when that happens!

Once over the shoulder of Conic I phoned ahead asking Pauline and Val in Balmaha to get the kettle on for my porridge and mug of tea. As much as I was pushing on, at the start of the crazy paving I would take it very steady going down, even though I’ve done it a few times now I still feel the new path is a head injury waiting to happen.

I made it down safely, Pauline was waiting for me with my pot of porridge just above the checkpoint so I could walk through shovelling in my breakfast and smoothly swapping to a mug of tea at the car without breaking stride and head along to Rowardennan, I took advantage of the facilities at Milarrochy and had a civilised toilet stop, settling into one of my favourite sections. My nerves were calming and I felt good and strong, moving well though the woodland’s swoops and climbs, even up the long climb of the steps. 

At Rowardennan Pauline and Val were ready for me, I was having a sit down for a change of socks, Pauline sorted my feet while I spooned in a tub of semolina with some smooth peanut butter added, this was a new one for me and a change from rice pudding, it was going in nicely, a great suggestion from Sue.

We swapped my water and Tailwind bottles and I took with me a couple of sachets, baby food and custard then headed off along the loch side. I was relieved that this year we were doing the high road since the low road was closed for repairs, it’s around the same distance but not technical, just a steady climb and descent on a wide forest track but for someone with an eye on the Beinglas cut-off, a saving of at least ten minutes. 

I kept a good strong working effort along to Inversnaid, and was absolutely delighted to see Keith. A bittersweet moment, we had planned to run together this year until injury sidelined him, he poured some Coke into my wee squishy cup and walked out a wee bit with me. I was still stressing Beinglas and asked Keith to confirm how long I had to get there, “You’re fine, loads of time!” but being a bit thick, I think I muddled the twelve hour limit to mean twelve noon cutting an hour off the limit. I've never been particularly numerate and even worse when running, stressing myself more than necessary!  Eejit! 

photo credit - Keith Hughes

I also make another error regarding Inversnaid, I knew there wouldn’t be drop bags this year but I forgot to carry enough food from Rowardennan that would see me to Beinglas, there were a few snacks available but I can’t eat the usual stuff after being treated for mouth cancer thirteen years ago, I ended up using the emergency gels that live in the bottom of my bag which are usually well out of date and probably been carried for at least a thousand miles! I’m sure they helped a bit! 

As long as I made good steady progress on the narrow, scrambly terrain along the side of the loch I shouldn’t need to panic, a lot of the rocks and tree roots were covered in a slick of wet mud from previous runners, and the erosion of the route doesn’t help, I’m sure in future, paddling will be needed if more path falls into the loch.  After last year’s fall I was extra wary, I wasn’t going to risk another accident and moved as cautiously as I could without wasting time. There were a couple of runners behind me, I asked if they wanted to go by, Ben said “No, I’m fine, happy to watch where you put your feet.” (I didn’t mention that it might not be a good idea to follow me, after giving myself a bloody sair yin, bashing my bonce but luckily a jaggy bush saving me making a splash in the loch last year) We had a good old blether along, and at one point we came to a wide stretch of very deep mud, a walker was paused in the centre with her poles holding her steady probably questioning her life choices, Ben made light of the situation and said “This is like Indiana Jones!”  and started singing the tune… “Aw wait, that’s the A Team!” Seconds later we were all laughing singing the proper Indiana tune. (I don’t think I’ll ever see a clip of any of the Indiana Jones films without smiling at this memory now) 

Yay! The flat grassy bit and no falls! Time to ease the legs back into running and head up to Dario’s post, but before that I had to find a quiet spot away from the path, Andy Cole ran past, it was great to see him but I didn’t think it was good etiquette to attract his attention and shout hello mid wilder-pee, hopefully I’ll get a chat later.  

The safety boat was cruising along close to shore, what a boost to hear Keith shouting loud and clear, I waved back with a massive smile. Laura and I were together for the climb up to Dario’s post, it was lovely to have her company sharing a wee dram, pausing a moment with an old friend.    

photo credit - Laura McKay

I knew exactly how long it would take to reach Beinglas, no need to panic, just a good, steady effort and I’ll be fine. As I approached Jean-Paul shouted “No.2 Queen of the Race!” I laughed out loud then was surprised as a wee bit of emotion bubbled up, I have made the tight cut-off. 

Another surprise, Keith was in Beinglas! He helped me with my drop bag and sent me on my way. I enjoyed a chocolate milk shake and another sachet of baby food.  

I was relieved to get through the checkpoint and could relax a bit, but wasn’t letting go of the effort to get the next bit done. I'm not sure why, but I’ve never really liked the section towards Derrydarroch much, although there are some flat easier going bits, it still feels hard! Maybe once I’m over halfway I’ll be pulling in the finish and it’s psychologically easier. Still pushing a steady effort I trotted on, the sooner I got to Tyndrum the sooner I’ll get some more grub and pals to run with. It was great to see David and Alison at the gate above Bogle Glen at the start of the rollercoaster.

photo credit - Alison Downey 

David reassured me I still had plenty of time since I no longer trusted my own mental arithmetic. With the forest being harvested it does look different, but the ground will recover and native trees, shrubs and heather will soon replace the barren landscape. The steep swoops up and down haven’t changed, still challenging enough to make you scream! I gave gravity free rein to pull me down at a good pace and stomped the ups, happy to make the final descent down to a hug from Donna and her wee oasis before crossing the road. I scanned the table of snacks but again there was nothing I could manage apart from coke, I tipped out the remnants of my water bottle and felt a wee bit greedy asking if I could have it filled to the top instead of having some in my wee cup, it was generously given. As I walked away, I gave the bottle a gentle shake to knock out some of the fizz but I opened the nozzle a bit too much. Wahay Vesuvius! Glad I wasn’t holding too close to my face, I would not have enjoyed a nostril irrigation and not the most efficient way to get some fuel on board! 

I planned to phone ahead when I wasn’t far away from Tyndrum, but it wasn’t necessary, Pauline and Val tooted and waved as they drove past while I was waiting to cross the road. I gave them a cheery wave back, looking forward to seeing everyone. After sending me on my way at Rowardennan they could relax and have a second breakfast/lunch in Callander. It's a slightly longer journey for them, but a worthy detour with a choice of quality bakeries to pick up filled rolls, also it's a less stressful drive than the A82. They will be handing over to the rest of the team, who have driven up, hopefully, after a long lie and a good night’s sleep. I tootled on through Auchtertyre which seemed very quiet with the checkpoint being moved to Tyndrum. 

Great to see Robin W. at the timing table as well as all the team. I couldn’t remember what I’d put on my food list and asked if they had an Ensure Plus milkshake to hand, “No, but here’s your soup!“ Hmm, ok, it was my own home-made ham and lentil, a staple in my diet, but on a warm afternoon, feeling a wee bit queasy, still needing to catch up on calories it wasn’t going to be the easiest to get in. Pauline was quite animated in telling me to keep a hard effort going before she and Val stood down, and headed off to our accommodation in Fort William. But I was no longer racing the clock, I now had the luxury of time, I could relax, get my nutrition back on track with a minimum effort, savouring every moment, no longer a race but a celebration. 

photo credit - The Real Food Cafe

Clara was joining me, what a joy to have her bubbly enthusiasm with me. I was struggling with my soup, it was catching my throat and making me cough, that doesn’t usually happen, but I’m not usually hoofing up hill trying to eat it! After managing around half of it I’ll just save the rest for later and have the wee sachet of custard instead. The views were opening up, the air was so clear, the profiles of the hills were sharp and popping out in contrast to the sky, the sun casting shadows giving even more definition, I don’t think I’ve ever seen the route so vibrant. It was 3D on steroids! 

Clara encouraged me to run some bits and we were steadily moving towards Bridge of Orchy. We were a bit wary going by the cattle but they were quite sedate and no problem.

What a lovely welcome into the checkpoint, this year using the Community Centre with tea, coffee and snacks available, I politely declined, my crew were waiting over the Bridge but I did have another civilised toilet stop, washing my face as well, on leaving I received a hug from Robin P, I felt I had to explain my wet face was clean and not manky sweat! 

Over the Bridge, I had my second sit down for a change of socks and shoes, I had a couple of wee blisters, but nothing needing attention. I knocked back an Ensure Plus milkshake (these are designed for medical purposes, but work well for running, I first got them on prescription during cancer treatment, a complete replacement meal of 300 calories, 12.5gms of protein in a teeny 200ml bottle.)

I followed this with another tub of semolina with peanut butter then a mug of mocha coffee, finally catching up with some substantial fuel. Clara came with me up and over Jelly Baby hill, Mike saved his last Vimto Jelly Baby for me and gave me the brilliant news that Neil flew through hours ago.  

My legs were in good shape, still supple and moving strongly down to Inveroran, the team were waiting, Clara was stopping here, Gillian was coming with me to Glencoe, I had more to eat and picked up my headtorch, I haven’t seen Gillian in ages and it was lovely to have a good blether and catch up, mostly walking the steady climbs, with a wee shuffles thrown in on the level and occasional downs. The sun was going down on superb scenery as we headed down to Glencoe, Mia and Llinos welcomed me to the detour up to the checkpoint with hugs, I hugged Chris after dibbing in. Walking to the car, Ken smiled and said “You know you’d be quicker if you didn’t stop to hug every marshal at every checkpoint!” 

“Och, It would be rude not to, and besides PB’s were so twenty years ago!” I had another wee sit down and finished the soup I didn’t manage earlier. I added a few layers, sticking with tradition, the blue fleece I wore during my PB in 2007 (twenty years was an exaggeration, it was only nineteen!) Ken and Jon were joining Gillian in accompanying me to Altnafeadh, we all took turns in slagging off the rough, eroded path that pointlessly climbs up away from the road just to come back down. Sue was waiting to go with me all the way to the finish. 

I had more soup before we headed up. As much as my legs moved well, I had no oomph. After the lovely comfortable tootle from Tyndrum I was going to have to re-engage a concerted effort, I’d been too busy enjoying myself to notice a bit of fatigue setting in, it shouldn’t have surprised me as much as it did, I knew I was heading into the second night with no sleep and 75 miles in my legs. Ooyah beastie! I better get on with it then! I felt very slow going up, there were two marshals at the cairn, in the dark I didn’t recognise Karl until I heard his voice. What a lovely surprise and massive hug! Once having gravity on my side I regained a bit of spriteliness heading down at what I’d like to call a scamper, (I probably moved more like a sack o’ tatties, but it felt like a scamper) and with the smoothing out of the steep winding track we ran all the way down and made our way to the Kinlochleven checkpoint. I didn’t hurry out, with a visit to a proper loo and splashing water on my face again to freshen up, having a wee seat while eating a porridge pot and a mug of tea, then a hug from Julie on my way out. 

Clara was ready and joined Sue in keeping me company to the finish. I was dreading the climb out of Kinlochleven after making such a meal of climbing the Devil, but the thought was worse than actually doing it. Yes, it was slow but we steadily reached the top, where we had another glorious sunrise.  

I was weary moving along the long ribbon of Lairig Mor but I wasn’t a walking corpse, I joined in the conversation, keeping a steady stride still moving fairly well, although not so precious about keeping my feet dry at this stage I was still jumping the water streaming over the path , it’s just nicer not to have cold wet feet.  Oow! What was that? We were lucky enough to see a Water Vole scurry across in front of us. I’ve never seen one on Lairig Mor before. Brilliant! 

Lundavra always takes ages to reach but with Gillian in charge of the crew I knew they wouldn’t still be dozing when we arrived (unlike last year) and I was confidently looking forward to getting my mug of tea and custard creams, the elixir of life and cure of all ails.  

photo credit - Donald Macleod

After the climb up from the checkpoint the sun was getting higher and bringing warmth, we needed to pause so I could take off my loads of layers, wooly hat, windproof jacket, fleece, long sleeved top and my cut-off wind/waterproof breeks (zero points for aesthetics but top marks for efficiency) easily wheeched on and off without having to faff with shoes. The home straight has a few cheeky climbs and descents. I was working a bit harder, pulling in the finish, Clara reminded me to keep my head up, demonstrating good posture rolling her shoulders back with her enthusiastic smile. I did! We kept a good steady march through what once upon a time we called the spooky woods, now recovered from being harvested into a bonny woodland, the only slight drawback, you can see the last steep climb up onto the firetrack!  

I was encouraged to see if I could run. I tried a gentle wee shuffle, loosening into a better stride with the aid of gravity, surprising myself by keeping it going all the way down to the bottom until it levelled off. Wow! I have never felt so good coming down here at the end. I am no fine specimen of sporting attributes or ability, just the same shuffling sack o’ tatties I’ve always been but the sense of what I was achieving overrode any fatigue and discomfort. Through Braveheart and onto the pavement I didn’t feel the need to push on, just to cruise in and savour every final moment was enough. At the Leisure Centre Sue sprinted on to press the button at the pedestrian crossing, but the lights weren’t working, the road was busy so she instructed me to run faster when she shouted. “NOW!”  Yikes! I made it!  I still find the new finish clunky, concentrating going up and down pavements, dodging passengers round the train and bus stations but what a joy to see the Nevis Centre and Neil looking fresh from having finished the day before.

I lengthen my stride and push a sprint effort, over the road, down the side of the building, trying not to cry into the finish.

Keith dibs my final time, Ruth hugs me, I’m a bit dazed as folk congratulate, hug and sort me out. Sue handed me a custard cream, I said thanks but I’ll wait until I have a cup of tea to have it. She looked down at my other hand and said “What’s that then?” Oooow, magic, how did that get there! Was that you Ruth? My apologies if I didn’t thank you when you gave it to me.

Pauline escorts me off for a shower, what bliss to be clean and in fresh clothes. Back in the hall I sit quietly, taking time to gather myself and my thoughts ready for the prize-giving. I’m still a bit of a rabbit-in-headlights trying to take in the congratulations of the ovation Neil and I received when we were presented with our Goblets and Vase.

photo credit - Stuart Macfarlane

photo credit - Stuart Macfarlane

Neil - What a belter of a performance, proof that going out like the Charge of the Light Brigade can work! But only if you’ve got the class and calibre, you have both by the bucket load. Congratulations on running a PB in your twentieth West Highland Way Race.  

I was delighted to see new friends I’d had the company of this year receive their first Goblet and equally pleased to see old pals add to their crystal collection.

It is with heartfelt gratitude that I thank the race team and volunteers for putting in the hours to make this race safe and successful. I have good friends willing to give up a weekend to look after me, taking the photos and pandering to my requests. I could not have achieved what I have without your support over many years, Pauline, Val and Allan, Ken and Sue, Gillian and Jon, and Clara, thank you all. It would be appropriate to sing the theme for The A Team now!