Just a few words before I go in.

Once again thank you all for the support; it is overwhelming how you all hold me in your thoughts and prayers.  Dearie me, you’re making me emotional, and I’m not going to cry until it’s over.  It’s not just on my blog or facebook, but emails, private messages, texts and phone calls.  (Mel has lent me her ipad and Pete will bring it in when I’m able to use it, so I’ll be able to keep in touch through facebook and emails.)  I’ve also had some very positive news from three friends, all unconnected and they all know someone who has gone through mouth cancer and they’ve all recovered to be fit and healthy, one is even a runner and they got back to it quickly.  This is reassuring especially after my last health scare.  When I came out of hospital that time the most common reaction I got when folk knew I’d had a brain haemorrhage  said “Oh, I knew someone that had one but they died!” My confidence of reaching the end of the day every time I heard that was not good, but that is now nearly eight years ago and my strength and belief in myself has grown since then and I have achieved so much and I have no doubt I will again.

I never expected this past week to be so debilitating, I think I was just looking at this as a wee procedure in preparation for the surgery, just a stepping stone towards the main event.  Recovering from having the teeth out was ok and I could eat fine as long as I did it slowly.  But the wound in my tummy is still a bit tender, and the most active I've been is to shuffle round Tesco’s, I even made Pete come to push the trolley!  My tummy hasn't felt hungry but I've shovelled the food in, just like racing, little and often, actually not that little.  Full fat milk, hefty milkshakes, loads of cheese, Reese’s Cups, I’d never heard of them before but they were given to me from Pauline’s friend, they’re peanut butter covered in chocolate and have 500 calories per 100g, hot cross buns with slabs of butter, toast with a hefty spreading of peanut butter and strawberry jam,  and Sue’s delicious home baking, that’s just the snacks I've had proper meals and puddings as well.  I had hoped to put on about half a stone but it’s just a measly three pounds!  I can’t understand how I can be so inactive, eat such high fat stuff and put on so little, although I haven’t manage to store a lot of fat at least every muscle fibre is fuelled to the hilt ready for the fight. 

We (Me, Pete and Pauline) were back at St. John’s on Friday to sign consent form and go through the nuts and bolts of the operation (Surgeon’s words not mine) It’s going to take a long time, around twelve hours with three surgeons  working in relay, lucky for me I know how to do ultra!  After seeing the MRI he is going to remove more of my tongue than he first said and there will be nerve damage, some will be permanent, some temporary also the incision will run up my chin and through my lip, he may remove a tooth at the bottom front for access.  Scars fade and I can LIVE with this! 

I can’t say often enough how much your caring words of support mean to me, they are a great comfort, I am honoured to have such a support crew, I am not fighting alone.  Hold me tight in your thoughts and prayers, especially tomorrow evening when I come round, it’s gonna feel weird.

Dave, thank you for my battle mantra.  Hands up, chin down.  I don’t know how many rounds I'm going and I'm not stopping until I've won.  I've got the best people in my corner.   My chin is gonna get quite a skelp, but that ok, I'm strong enough to take it, I’ll stay standing,  I'm not doing Marquis of Queensberry rules though.  Cancer doesn't fight fair so neither will I, the gloves are off and I have a roll of pound coins in each fist. 

COME ON!   

A wee update

It wasn’t easy writing my last post, I didn’t want to shock or upset anyone but I want all the help I can get and your words come from the heart and I can feel the strength you’ve all sent me with all the best wishes, good vibes, prayers and love.  Thank you all for your support here and on facebook it will make all the difference to my recovery knowing you all hold me in your hearts.

 Oh dearie me, (this is the closest thing you’ll hear to a whinge) I didn’t expect to feel so sore, the entry site for the feeding tube is tender and to be expected but I think my tummy muscles have a bad case of DOMS, they’ve been stretched beyond their normal, (if it was my legs I’d be fine), I’m trying to do a little cat (yoga) but the movement is microscopic at the minute.  I’m sure I’ll loosen off soon, and I had a great sleep in my own bed last night.

Don’t panic I won’t give a blow by blow account of having a general anaesthetic, teeth out and a feeding tube inserted but it was a lot sorer than I anticipated.  The dentist recommended three teeth to come out but the surgeon had other ideas, he took out six.  The wisdom one next to the duff one at the bottom, ok fair enough, and another couple on the other side, one did have big fillings but the one opposite was fine, I feel a bit robbed there, nae wisdom teeth left, I’ll be thick as mince but according to the piratical one my ranking in the Scottish Matriarchal system has soared. .

Coming round from the anaesthetic I was scared to move, the last time I was wired up to a light and sound show but I was ok, just a very numb mouth and tightness in my tummy.   The surgeon came to see me and examined his handwork on my tummy.  Wow! Last time it was this hard and round I was seven months pregnant!   (Mind you I did have a neat bump and I wasn’t the size of a house) Ok, I’ll be fartin’ like a horse later was what I thought.  But it was not to be; the air wasn’t in my gut but around my gut and would only dissipate in its own time. 

At tea time I managed to suck on half an egg sandwich, the lady that brought it said the bread was lovely and soft; well it was when I started it, just a bit stale when I finished it. I felt ok until about 10.15pm, then the trapped wind got quite sharp, I tried to breathe it away, normally when I take a deep breathe I feel it going down passed my belly button but I couldn’t breathe deeper than the bottom of my sternum, then I thought hang on, I’m in hospital with drugs, I don’t have to tough it out and pressed the buzzer.  Some painkillers and peppermint water and it eased, not enough for me to sleep but enough for me to relax a bit.  I’m a great believer in using thoughts and images, and I knew a lot of my friends and family would’ve read my blog by now, so I cocooned myself in all your prayers, best wishes and healing vibes being sent to me. 

In the morning the surgeon suggested I should stay another night after being so uncomfortable, just for his peace of mind. Gee thanks, so I resigned myself for another night as an inmate and Pauline and Pete brought me in some more jammies and stuff. I was put in a different ward, it was busy, stuffily hot and a vent/fan above my head rumble all night like an old lorry sat with its engine running, still no sleep but my tummy had eased a bit, in the morning I made sure I was bright and breezy for doctors rounds, I wasn't staying another night.  Thankfully they agreed and I was home in time for the rugby.  

Thank you Sue for popping round with some homemade Millionaire Shortbread on her mission of FUF (Fatten up Fiona) I’m going to lose weight so it would be helpfully if I could gain as much as possible before surgery. The rugby result wasn’t what I was looking for but it gave me fuel for thought.  Like I said earlier I like to use thoughts and mental images in my arsenal.  

On the outside I’m a five foot two, eight stone, fifty year old wifie. On the inside I’m as strong and as strapping as this Scottish Warrior, Richie Gray, six foot ten and twenty stone but I’ve picked Sebastien Chabal for my war face.  Cancer hasnae a chance!

Some news and I’m afraid it’s not good.

I'll start at the beginning, for quite a few months I've had an ulcer on the side of my tongue, my dentist was treating it believing it was caused by a rough tooth, he capped it, the ulcer wasn't going away and around Christmas it got really sore and swollen so he sent me to get it checked, I had an appointment on Monday 11th Feb, I went thinking I might get a prescription for steroids or something, I was told "It could be sinister, we'll do a biopsy, shall we do it now?"  So that was a bit of a shock at the time and traumatic going home with stitches in the side of my tongue and not what I expected, but I thought they were just being very cautious but on Monday 18th the news wasn't good.  I had a CT scan on Tuesday 19th and another long week waiting.  Tuesday 26th I was given more information and I am to have surgery, which will be around the end of March and hopefully it might be all the treatment I need, they can't say if I'll need chemo or radiotherapy until after the surgery.  

This week I’m on a tour of hospitals, on Monday I had an MRI scan at the Queen Margaret in Dunfermline, Tuesday a visit to Edinburgh's Western General to have my teeth checked, they are going to remove any that are not in good condition and that may include "over recovered" teeth, I had to ask what that meant, my four front teeth are crowns so that possibly included them.  I went in preparing myself with the thought that is if they take all my teeth out I’ll just have to smile with my eyes until I get new ones.  But I'm only going to lose one of my front ones and another two at the back, one at the top and one at the bottom.  Tomorrow I'm going to St John's in Livingston to have the teeth out and have a feeding tube inserted into my stomach since after surgery they don't want mince n' tatties going round my mouth. I'm going to have quite a few scars, they'll use a piece of skin and blood vessels from my left wrist for reconstruction after removing around a third of the right side of my tongue, then a wee piece of skin from my stomach to repair my wrist. Since breathing is good I will have a trachea tube for bit and a scar from below my right ear to the front of my throat.  

Apart from this I am in excellent health and running really well.  Thank’s to Kirsty at the By the Way for organising the Tyndrum weekend, it didn't totally take my mind off what is ahead of me but I was able to lock it away at the back of my mind and enjoy a wonderful run down the loch from Bein Glas to Inversnaid and back, and the company in the evening was second to none. At the weekend just gone, it was the Smokies 10, I knew I’d be close to my PB so I was still going to blast it, this was my twentieth time running Smokies 10, I’ve done it since 1992 and only missed it twice.  My PB was 1.19.36 set in 2003, ten years have passed but I didn’t doubt my ability.  I knocked over a minute off finishing 1.18.27.  Proof I’m fighting fit.

I’m going to have to withdraw from the 100km at Perth, I’ll probably still be in hospital and they tell me I won’t be recovered in time for the Fling.  This is going to wipe me out for a bit even if I don’t need chemo but  I’m not prepared to give up the WHW yet, I don’t have to make this decision just now, if there’s a slim chance I can still do it I’m hanging onto that goal.  I didn’t quite put my fingers in ears and shout La la la la when Pauline was suggesting that I want my tenth to be enjoyable and waiting a year won’t diminish my achievement.  We’ll see?

I've a big battle ahead of me, I am a fighter and I punch above my weight.  I have some wonderful people supporting me in my corner (if you’re reading this you’re one of them).  I've had some lovely emails, James reminding me I am my Mother’s daughter and Gail saying that I am still a Rampant Lion.  Damn right!  Cancer will knock me back on my heels but I’ll stay standing, it will scar me and have me spitting teeth but it will never take my roar!

A blast from the past.

When John Pares recently posted on facebook – I had an emotional moment at the beginning of yesterday's race. Like most runners in the cold, I took an old t-shirt to keep me warm and then throw away at the start. Yesterday's t-shirt was my 2003 2 bridges t-shirt, my first ever ultra. There was a small tear in my eye as I threw it. Then, joy of joy, it was still there at the end. Re-united to renew our 10 year relationship after just a few hours apart. Next time I will take more care which t-shirt I choose. - It sent me down memory lane, the Two Bridges Road Race was a classic and local to me.  I remember watching it in incomprehensible awe that runners could go so far.  A few years later Pauline ran it. I think in all, thirteen times and in 1996 she was First Lady.

It's a shame that such an iconic race has disappeared but the history is still there.  Well worth a read -  Two Bridges Race History

In 1999 I ran it for the first time, it was my third ultra, (I’d ran Lairig Ghru in 1997 and the Speyside Way 50km in April 1999) and I did it every year from 1999 to 2004, I’ve knocked the dust off from my old running diary, here’s my scribblings for Saturday 28^th August 1999

The Big One – Two Bridges

After feeling nervous all week I was ok this morning, just went through the routine of getting ready. It was bright clear day which turned out hot and sunny, ran with my sunglasses on.

                                                 Lynne, Pauline, Rabbit the Bruce and myself.

When the gun went off my stomach didn’t do the double flip like at Speyside 50km, I was prepared and ready to run.

Started nice and easy or so I thought, the first 2 miles was in 17 minutes. Quick panic and consciously tried to slow, 5 miles was in 45 minutes, a bit better but still too quick for my liking.

                                                 Going through Cairneyhill (Stan Milne just behind me)

I had a bit of pins and needles in my left leg (due to my niggly back) told myself it was only nerve pain and not muscle pain, I can run with that and it disappeared before Longannet.  

Concentrated on running easy and keeping relaxed, bounced along to Kincardine Bridge, on the bridge I looked at the views around, felt good saying to myself “One down, one to go.”

It was a bit unsettling after the bridge on the long stretch before turning left along to Skinflats, I didn’t like the lorries scuffing my elbow.  Stan Milne, his pal and the Devil’s Staircase guy pulled away from me.  I was still feeling unsettled when I saw Ian Laird at a drink station, I smiled when he said I was looking good and I looked like I hadn’t even broke sweat yet, then he said Pauline and Lynne were only a couple of minutes ahead, that made me panic again, I must still be going too quick.

At the next drink station Russell joined me for the rest of the race.  Just before Grangemouth caught up with Willie Mair then passed him.  After Grangemouth I started to feel comfortable (it’s a bit of bugger that I had to run 18 miles before settling down) cruised along to Bo’ness.  With the big hill in mind I wanted to get that bit over with.  At the bottom I got my juice and Kendal Mint Cake, walked while I drank and munched.  Then started to do wee shuffles so my legs wouldn’t be too stecky at the top, then I think the Kendal Mint Cake kicked in, I felt great, I wanted to run so I did, passing Stan and pal.  Really enjoyed the next few miles, I got to the marathon point in 4hrs 25mins, and then the long long slow climb got me but I still caught Margaret from Dundee.  I was beginning to tire but in my mind’s eye I was running with long strong legs and looked comfortable.

The Forth Road Bridge took a long time to come into view but I hauled it in.  On the bridge I had a few emotional moments when I looked left to where I’ve been.  On the slog up Ferry Toll Russell said Margaret was catching me and to pick it up.  Pick it up!!  I tried, but she got me at the top of Ferry Toll. Worked hard, puffing all the way just to maintain pace, got a lump in my throat when Carol Lisle gave me encouragement going passed her house.  I thought I was going to finish with tears streaming down my face but when I got to the top of hill and I could see down to the finish with Erin, Mum and Pauline cheering I ‘sprinted’ in with a great big stoopid smile on my face, I was so elated I could've cartwheeled  over the finish.

Doing the Janus thing

Last year has been a good one running wise, it was injury free, even snot and sniffle free, I’ve ran the most miles I’ve ever done in a year, just over 2100, I don’t normal do such big miles but it has been my first year without Mum, and my running has been my solace, it has held me together and let me release my grief.

I ran eight races in 2012, in February Devilla 15 km, not a normal distance but brilliant fun belting round a muddy Devilla Forest, in March the Smokies 10, a ladies only 10 mile race that’s  been on the calendar for longer than I’ve been running, it’s a quality hilly route which I use the run hard and hang on technique, I ran my third fastest time since 1999 (when I started keeping a detailed record of my running other than half marathons)  in April the Highland Fling, in which Pauline , Sue and I ran together, it wasn’t planned but when we were still together around the top of the loch we decided to stay together to the end,

a great day out and the bonus of a surprise several months later when an envelope from Scottish Athletic dropped through my letter box with the championship team gold medals!  In June a steady run at the Skye Half in beautiful conditions, and the only time in 2012 I wore my vest without layers underneath,

it’s my favourite half and the only one I do nowadays, I first ran it in 1993.  Then a fortnight later, the West Highland Way race for the ninth time, in the wettest conditions for the first half I’ve ever ran in, the rain did ease a bit along Rannoch Moor and I finished in just under 29 hours (one second under to be precise) 

August the 4^th was our 50^th birthday, there was no better way to celebrate it other than supporting Mel in her first ultra, the Devil O’ the Highlands, and have a bit of fun along the way, I don’t plan on growing old any time soon and when I do it will be disgracefully.

In September the Glenmore 24 and I was astounded to recording my one and only race win.  First Female with 109 miles, after over twenty five years as a plodder I’m very proud of this achievement and my engraved tea plate is in a prominent place, a wee shiny trophy  with memories that go deeper than my eloquence. 

After that I ran my eleventh Loch Ness Marathon and an enjoyable trot round the last race of the year, Glen Ogle 33.

Looking forward to this year, most of my races are entered, I have big goals, but I know nothing is guaranteed.

First is the 100km at Perth, I’ve never ran a 100km race or more accurately I’ve never stopped at 100km so my goal is 11hrs 30mins that’s when  I reached 100km at my first 24hour race at Perth so that’s what I’m aiming for, next with be the Highland Fling, I have no goal for a time other than my best WHW split, I’m a one pace plodder with my eyes on June which will be my tenth WHW race, I think I’ll be as nervous as my first WHW, funnily enough I’ve never been nervous before a race since then, just excited.  In 2003 I was heading into the unknown, there weren’t the trail races that are there now to build experience, and my longest race was The Two Bridges, a 35 mile old classic road race that sadly is no longer around.  But after doing Pauline’s support a few times I knew exactly what was in front of me.  It was sore, and the toughest thing I’d ever done but knowing I’d come through it gave me the strength to face stuff far scarier than running the most scenic 95 miles on the planet.   I don’t doubt my commitment to finishing for a tenth time, there may be stuff beyond my control and that’s what makes me nervous.

Next will be The British Ultra Fest in August, I’ve never ran on a track before or a 48 hour race so I’m thinking two birds with one stone!  I’ll have to employ tactics I’ve never used before,  like stopping for a breather, but I’m hoping I’ll benefit from stopping for a wee rest and I’m thinking around 4.00am, both days (I’ve picked that time because it has been the most unproductive time during my handful of 24 hour races).  I may be a plodder but I'm consistent.  I start slow and don’t go much slower, most of my 24 hour race splits are practically metronomic and during the WHW I’m always a bit concerned about making the half way cut offs, last year I made it with around an hour to spare and thanks to John K’s spread-sheets I was pleased to see my split from Kinlochleven to Fort William was the 52^nd fastest from the 119 finishers, a boost to my confidence in my own pacing, I certainly didn't speed up, so I’ll hold that in my favour hoping to maintain my pace for two days.  I don’t expect it to be easy and mentally it will tough.  During last year’s WHW race I added some secret ammo in my arsenal.  A fit and trained body can get you to Kingshouse but to get further requires heart and soul and if mine happened to fall into a dark place my comforting thought was to have an Angel with a strong hand on my back pushing me along the Lairig Mor but it wasn’t necessary, my body was feeling the miles, but my heart and soul were proud, my mind was clear and my head held high, I smiled as I thought, like that gallus bairn on a bike, “Look Maw, no hands!”  In my final hour of the Glenmore, my emotion was high, physically I found it tough but it could never reach what my Mum endured in the “end game” and she was my inspiration to push on. 

Now a few months on and looking back, “ Light-bulb!” Of course I didn't need to call on an Angel, she was with me without asking.  No matter how tough or sore my running in 2013 may get I know my Mum is proud of me and will always be with me.  My goal for 2013 is to keep making her proud.   “Look Maw, no hands!” 

Glen Ogle 33

Alarm set for 4.15 am, must be a race day! Porridge, banana and honey with a big mug of coffee enjoyed, I started the car about ten minutes before I left so it warmed up and I didn’t have to scrape the ice of the windscreen. Pauline and Morna were picked on time and we were on our way to Strathyre.  We weren’t liking the lumpy rain we saw in the headlights or being cleared away by the wipers.  Luckily it had stopped by the time we got to registration with a cheery Julie on duty. We picked up our numbers, lurked in the toilets for a bit of a heat then moved the car round to the finish (shorter walk to the pub from there).  Then we got ourselves ready for the walk back to the start.

Brrrrrr! I couldn’t look at Morna without shuddering, although she was wearing Buff, hat, gloves and kilt she had bare legs and just her vest!  I was wearing a long-sleeved thermal, t-shirt, vest, long tights, kilt, Buff, peaked Buff pulled down as far as it could go and still just about see where I was going. My only attempt at being a tough runner was fingerless gloves (so much easier to open a funsize packet of Maltesers)

A  wee race briefing from Mike, then a walk over the road to the start which was a bit different to last year adding on a bit more, by this time my shoulders were up to my ears,  my jaw was aching holding it tight so it didn’t chitter, I felt a brief warmth brush my calf, Mason dog! Hi Lee, hi Dave, how are…  No preamble (if there was one I missed it) we’re off.

I lower my shoulders, loosened my jaw and hope to warm up some time soon.  It was a long up hill at the start and I chose to run it, even though I wasn’t going much faster than those walking, I decided I’d run all the way until the hairpin hill with the view of Loch Earn then after that I’d see how I felt whether to walk or run the hills. 

I took my camera and whipped it out quite a few times as I trotted along but always looped the strap round a finger in case my clumsy frozen paws dropped it.  photos

In the loop of the forest I did a bit of walking and running on the hills, I felt my left hip and hamstrings tight when I walked and more comfortable when I ran but I wanted to stretch out the legs.  I was enjoying the chat with old friends and new, there were quite a few running their first ultra and what a cracker to pick for a first. 

After coming down out of the forest and before crossing the road again there was a troop of Scouts coming towards us, big cheers and high fives from them, a couple of walkers were just behind them, I wasn’t sure if they were with the Scouts or not but I high fived them anyway.  

On the way back along the old railway line with around twenty miles down and roughly thirteen miles to go I did a body check, everything felt fine, legs supple and strong with plenty life left, compared to last year, I remembered my legs being tight and sore.  In my reflection I smiled to myself, this year has been a good injury and illness free one and I felt quite bouncy with the bonus of that thought.  The weather had improved although still cold there were patches of blue sky, and when the sun shone on me I soaked up the warmth.  Folk were well spread out now and I didn’t see so many runners, so it was lovely to see some of my club friends appear just to offer some support Fabienne’s cheery face near the viaduct and Ken and Bill a few miles from the end. 

I didn’t feel the need to push hard but worked on maintaining my pace, but once off the cycle path and on the road it was time to haul into the finish, that’s where the beer and soup would be, also looking at the time if I didn’t slow down I’d finish within six hours.  I was wearing a Garmin, so had a bit of a clue how much further I had to go, I could vaguely remember where I was from last year, this year’s route was further than last year but I still wasn’t sure of the finish until I saw the marshal just before the shoogly bridge, I love how it jumps up and surprises you into the giggles! Round the tight bend and the finish!  Yaay, 5.46.19hrs, well under the six hours, last year I finished in 6.11hrs and it was a mile longer this year!  Although my Garmin showed the distance as 31.65 miles, still a wee bit short of thirty-three but no matter, it was quality not quantity. 

                           (photo from Glen Ogle facebook page)

A quick change of clothes and the luxury of a wet wipe round my face standing at the back of the car, then over to the pub for some well-deserved soup, beer and a blether.  The GO33 is a lovely race winding up the ultra-season for the year, a Bill and Mike Production, directed by Ada with a cast of brilliant marshals and helpers.  Thank you all for make this a day of happy running memories. 

Glenmore 24 Trail Race 2012

Last year’s race was so perfect, everything just clicked, although my training was a bit minimal with a duff Achilles, the weather was great, nice and warm during the day, chilly at night but nothing a lightweight fleece couldn’t handle.  I had no problems with my stomach, my legs cruised round until 7.00am then it dawned on me that I was running well, I was told that I was knocking out the fastest laps, that really gave me a boost, I was buzzing and my last six laps averaged around 50 minutes to finish with 108 miles and 2^nd Female.  What a bonus since after seeing the hills on the first lap I doubted I would’ve reached 100 miles.

This year, my training has been better but what were the chances of replicating last year’s fortunes?  I wasn’t going to bet on it, but I knew that whatever happens I am forever an optimist and aimed high.  It was going to be the same friendly, well organised affair as last year with one wee change, instead of finishing with whole laps and stopping either just before or after the 12 or 24 hours, this year for the last hour of each race runners moved onto a small loop of just over 300 metres round base camp to finish exactly on 12 or 24 hours.   Last year I stopped at 23.46.49 so that will give me an extra 13 minutes to fit in one more mile and hopefully I could squeeze in one more for luck, the reasoning behind my goal of 110 miles. 

Here’s what I wrote on my race plan. 

Make sure there is something ready every lap as I won’t stop or wait for it, catch me up if necessary. 

 If all goes well I aim to get further than last year’s 108 miles. A PB would be 117 miles, I’m not ruling it out but 110 miles is my goal. 

If I have gut problems I’ll just go slower for a bit and hopefully be able to pick it up again with 100 miles being the minimum I hope to achieve. 

We might get weather and it may turn into a battle for survival rather than big miles. 

I will be flexible except for one thing.  I will not stop, it’s only 24 hours! 

Also this year Pauline was running and not supporting so time for a little twinny competition, when I said my goal was 110 miles Pauline instantly replied her goal was 111 miles!  Pauline has had a rather relaxed year training wise and has only averaged a weekly mileage of around 26 mile with a handful of big runs thrown in, she does have a bit of speed and experience in her corner, she completed ten West Highland Way races this year and sticking with the same theme this will be her tenth 24 hour race.

We had enlisted Mel and Kevin for support, they did a brilliant job supporting me for this year’s WHW and Morna was coming along for a few hours to help for the evening until after midnight and Robin would be on hand if needed after Anne had finished the 12 hour race. 

Mel and Kevin had gone up to Aviemore on Friday afternoon for a relaxed evening and to pitch the club tent, there were quite a few tents up already, folk this year are very well organised.  Pauline and I decided to stay at home and come up in the morning since it’s only around a two hour drive. 

After registering, loads of hellos, a short briefing from Bill, along the lines of “You guys have set your goals, it’s our job to help you reach them, look after each other and enjoy!”  After a bit of a pose on the start line it was 12 noon and we were off on the undulating four mile lap for as many as we could manage in the space of 24 hours.

Mel's photos

Pauline and I ran the first lap together then I let her go on, it was far too quick for what I wanted my average lap to be but with fresh legs it didn’t feel  fast and I knew I’d settle down and only expected to see her again when she lapped me later. 

I was relieved to complete the second lap without falling over, yaaay, time to relax, find my groove, enjoy the beauty of the forest, the ancient trees and vibrant purple heather, the views of the loch and hills and settle into consistent laps, watching my footing on the lumpy bumpy first mile, checking my posture on the “long run”, that’s what I called the second mile on the wide forest track with a few gentle inclines, because I ran it all every lap last year and that was the plan for this year too.  After turning left up the steep hill, I picked trees or boulders as markers for where to walk and eat, and where to stick in some runs.  Then I took it gently on the steep downhill, before the wee kick of a hill, left turn down five steps and back to base camp. 

photo from Glenmore24 Trail Race

The weather wasn’t as bad as had been forecast, it stayed dry but there was quite a fierce blustery wind, it took me sideways on the open path of the “long run” and I think it killed a couple of the tents at base camp!  I didn’t want to waste energy fighting it so just eased along when the wind was in my face, I never noticed it on my back though, we must have had the shelter of the trees for when it was behind us!  I did moan about it a bit to Minty and Rab the Kilt, they never really noticed its strength, fair enough, I’m a fairy light-weight compared to the two stappin’ lads!

After the third lap (12 miles) I had to stop and slap some more Body Glide on my right pinkie toe, that was a surprise and far too early for any foot problems, these are the shoes I changed into at Rowardennan and kept them on until Fort William, about 70 miles, during the WHW without any pinkie toe problems, not to worry I can do blisters, and it did settle down to just a wee nip for the rest of the race.

After the eighth lap (32 miles) I wasn’t very comfortable, I had to have a faff with my shoe laces, they were now feeling a bit tight, my stomach was sore, I’d only been running for just over six hours, again far too early to encounter gut problems, I had flash backs of Perth 2010, I didn’t want a repeat of that, my toughest 24 hours race.  Lap nine, I had some soup and hoped that that would help settle my guts, and the following lap Morna came round with me, it lovely to have her company.  I couldn’t face any food but had a wee can of fizzy coke, after quite a few burps and farts my guts eased a bit. (Running ultra is definitely not lady like!)

Lap eleven was revenge time for Mel, (I made her eat some rice pudding at Lundavra during the Devil O’ the Highlands). After I’d had a couple of spoonfuls, she looked at what was left in the tub and wasn’t impressed and wouldn’t take it back until I’d shovelled in some more.  Now it was dark, although I had my head torch I decided to walk the short, narrow lumpy bumpy bit just out of base camp, not worth risking a fall. 

Lap twelve, just before 10.00pm I picked up my ipod, a seven hour playlist of lively foot stompers set on shuffle, I never normally run a race with it, I think they are just anti-social but I need all the help I can get during 24 hours but I always disengaged one lug ‘ole when someone went by me, no one went past without a word of encouragement.  Through the night it remained cloudy but the moon was full and was making guest appearances, for one moment I thought a car was behind me but headlights don’t surround your shadow with silver, I could’ve switched off my head torch but I just put my hand over it for a few moments to savour the magic of the moonlight.  

One lap through the night I saw a body on the bench on the “long run” I started to move towards it to check they were ok, but before I got there I recognised those baggy shorts over the blue tracksters, I’ll leave him in peace, Ray-the Legend-McCurdy was partial to a bench during 24hour races, I remember being jealous of him sitting on a bench enjoying the warming pink glow of the rising sun as I shuffled by during Perth 2010!

Occasionally I’d ask through the day how Pauline faring, I liked it when I heard she was doing fine, later on I’d heard she was battling with “tummy trouble”  one lap through base camp Mel pointed to someone on the grass  in front.  Aw naw!, it didn’t mean I was running well, it meant Pauline was having a struggle, I caught up and we ran the lap together, we were both fightin’ but Pauline was having more of a challenge, her guts were worse than mine and had to have a few stops, eventually for the first time I can remember in over twenty years of running I went ahead, I wouldn’t hold back or wait Pauline, wouldn’t want me too either.

Last year Pauline kept a detailed lap sheet of my splits and nutrition Mel had it to hand and kept me informed where I was compared to last year, I had a cushion of around 15 minutes from early on but with the blustery wind and my guts giving me grief I was working hard just to maintain that lead, Mel was concerned I wasn’t eating or drinking enough, I was swapping a 250ml bottle most laps and I rarely handed back an empty one and it took three laps to eat a wee bag of Mini Cheddars but with her encouragement I was managing half a finger of shortbread or some milkshake, just the bare minimum to keep me going.  Mel was doing an outstanding job; she has a broken bone in her foot and really shouldn’t be escorting me out of base camp most laps never mind being on her feet!

 I did get my knickers in a twist a couple of times, I was wearing my old faithful Timex Ironman watch that can hold 100 laps,(I still have last year’s splits on it), but I had messed it up and must have advertently pressed stop.  My only concession to age is that my eyesight is rubbish without reading glasses and in the dark I was really struggling to make it out but I could see my watch was wrong, I had to pull in to base camp to sort my shoe again, my right foot developed a bruise where the tongue of my shoe sat, while faffing with my lace again, I was frustrated that I couldn’t do something simple like read my watch, I asked Kevin what it said, I gave up trying to fathom it out  I just put it round to time of day, I started at noon, I’ll finish at noon. 

During the wee small hours, when the body is at its lowest ebb, I expected to have a few slower laps, this year I only had one lap of 59 minutes at 4.30am thanks to Lee and Geraldine, they were stars at lifting the spirits on the graveyard shift at the halfway checkpoint, a handful of glow sticks and they surpassed the spectacle that was the Edinburgh Festival’s Speed of Light, it was a phenomenal event but not a patch on the dynamic duo writing runners names on the ground and doing a fine rendition D.I.S.C.O in the dark!

Pink! At last a glimmer of colour in the sky, dawn was approaching, time to try and pick it up, but I was breathing hard just to keep a consistent lap pace, there was no way I could pick it up like last year, maintaining took all my effort, those 15 minutes I had in the bank were going to get spent.

The next fankle I let myself get wound up with was what lap I was on, I was just running not thinking about where I was, as I was being expertly counted by Ada and Mel but on the lap I thought I’d get the horn I didn’t, (Ada was giving a blast on the air horn when folk were going through 100 miles) fair enough, wishful thinking on my part, next lap I still didn’t get the horn… mild panic! Where the feck am I?  Apparently in the small hours when I’d gone through, Ada had asked was it me, someone said no, it was Pauline, actually it was both of us… seconds apart, sorry guys, next time I’ll pay more attention to where I am and Ada, we’ll get our names printed on our vests!

photo from Julie Clarke

It was at 10.00am two hours to go, it was confirmed I went through lap 25, 100 miles, a brilliant achievement, I know, but I was confused, my reaction and words were definitely not lady like, I let cracks appear in my armour.  I wasn’t letting go, but I said “I don’t think I can do two more laps!” Kevin then said the perfect thing, “You‘ve only got one lap to go, ‘cause you don’t count the one you’re on!”  Light-bulb moment!  Damn right, how could I forget, those are the very words I used on myself when running laps for the first time during Glenrothes 50k eleven years ago!  He also said I was in second place and Pauline was in third. 

I gave myself a talking to, I’d been listening to my head, a bad move and never to be done during a race, because your head always give you duff information, like stop it hurts or you don’t have to work so hard.   Time to tell it to shut the fuck up!  The only limits are the ones we oppose on ourselves and time to give full rein to my heart and soul, I have two hours left to equal last year, it was going to be hard but I’m going for it.  My breathing was loud, a proper drama queen donkey bray, the back of my throat was swollen and raw, and if my body was a car the petrol light was flashing red, motoring on fumes.  But my determination was the only fuel I needed now,  I felt a little light headed going up the hill and tried to control my breathing without making such a racket, I caught up with Stan, he was going to make the 100 miles this lap, I told him what I was attempting, he didn’t bullshit me, it was going to be close and his parting words as I pulled away “You’ve done really well anyway.” brought my emotion into my throat, my reply “Yeah, I know but I want to try.”

It must have been just before 11.00am, I charged into base camp and shouted to Ada “Do I have time for one more lap?”

“YES!”

Ok, last lap, COME ON! Kevin gave me a couple of bits of tablet, which was all I could face.  I pushed as hard as I could. Again I felt a wee bit light headed on the hill, the emotion of the effort was rising from my chest and threatened to hamper my breathing even more, I wasn’t distressed, this was my choice to work so hard, I could faint at the finish, just the thought of lying on the grass… but I couldn’t let go, not yet.  I shouted out loud “I DO NOT GIVE UP!”

I caught up with Rab just before reaching base camp; we must have been the last two to come in from the four mile lap and on to the small loop.  

photo from Glenmore24 Trail Race

I was relieved I’d made it back before the end of the race and get the 108 miles.  I hit the grass like a boxer going for a last minute knock-out, seconds out, final round, ding ding! I had worked so hard for the last few hours I wasn’t letting go for the last ten minute, 

I flew round the grass and ran up the hill, down the other side and looked at the clock, I flew round another lap, this clock's stopped! Pauline was with me and we ran together, she shouted “Get your head up!” Yeah, good point, I’d let go of my form, running like a mad, slavering hound breathing like a barking rabid dog.

photo from Julie Clarke

I was so glad that everyone was cheering so loudly they wouldn’t hear me breathe.  Eventually I could hear folk count down 10, 9, 8… 3, 2, 1! Air horn!  Aaahhh, a final sigh of relief, we’ve finished; Pauline and I gave each other a quick pat on the back. Gimme that grass! We had stopped on the hill so I took advantage of the gradient and placed my head at the bottom and my feet at the top, I even held them up for a few moments to stave off the post-race faint.  The race Doc walked round checking everyone, “Yep, you're alive, you're alive, you're alive” Ok, I’ll believe you! We’d been given a tent peg with our race number on it to stick in the ground when we finished, it wasn’t necessary in my case my carcass was still on the ground when Bill and Mike measured our final distances.  103 miles for Pauline and 109 for me, it was hard fought for and I’m thrilled I managed to surpass last year and run the second furthest distance I’ve ever gone.

photo from Mel

I eventually managed to get up and shuffle back to our tent; it took a bit of time. I put on enough layers that if I stood next to the Michelin man he would've looked svelte, at the end of previous 24 hour races I’ve had uncontrollable chitters and felt so cold.

Next task was to shuffle over for the prize giving, I took my chair. 

photo from Julie Clarke

"Ok Pauline, you pretend you're sorting your shoe, I'll hang onto the back of this chair and no one will know we're unconscious!" 

Glenmore24 Trail Race

Everyone was awarded their medal and bottle of beer individually then 1st, 2nd and 3rd Male and Female for the 12 hour race, then the 24 hour runners got their bottle of beer and medals followed with the first three finishers.  Bill gave Pauline her prize for third, I was readying myself to stand then Bill said “In second place, Wendy MacKinnon”  Eh… there’s been a mistake….  “In first place, Fiona Rennie” REALLY???  I think I kept the emotion from crumpling my face and I looked happy!  I have achieved my first race win!

Last year the Glenmore 24 showed promise of being a top event in Scottish Ultra and now in its second year it has established itself as a top event in Scottish Ultra, thanks to the hard work of Mike Bill, Ada and all their helpers.  An outstandingly well organised, friendly event, in stunning scenery with a special bunch of people, I can see the internet crashing when entries open for next year.

P.S.

One more first, I never thought I’d ever emulate the Tennent’s Lager Burds!