I had Friday off work and I wasn’t going to waste it doing mundane stuff, Pete and Erin had made their own plans for the day so I made some myself. On Thursday I thought about going off for a run on the WHW but the forecast wasn’t good but that didn’t bother me. I’ve done the Devil’s Staircase in the dark with torrential rain and accompanying thunder and lightning and that didn’t worry me, well, Pauline is a wee half inch taller so if anybody was gonna get zapped it wiznae me! So some heavy drizzle in daylight wouldn’t put me off.
So when I got up on Friday and looked out the window, ok, it was raining but it wasn’t a howling gale, I’ll go. It took a bit of time for me to get ready, make some pieces and a flask and to decide what rainjacket to wear, (went for the Montane with the hood) I didn’t get to Rowardennan until just before noon. I had no goals, it wasn’t a training run just an afternoon on the WHW for its therapeutic qualities. If the NHS could bottle the WHW into tablet form it would half its waiting list!
As soon as I opened the car door and got a whiff of wet forest I knew I made the right choice for the day, the makers of air fresheners haven’t a clue!
I started very gently, my back’s been bad and still a bit tight, I did do an easy nine miles on Monday but felt like a big fat lumbering heifer. I headed towards Balmaha, the trees had laid a comfy carpet of gold for me, and branches still clung on to some of their treasure. I revelled in this autumnal beauty. I took loads of photos but they didn’t do justice to what I saw, it was a driech day but still the colours were rich.
I ran past an empty Police mini bus, wondering what they were up to, a mile or so later I met four big burly officers walking a wee cute Spaniel??? I thought that didn’t fit the usual profile of a big fierce polis pooch! It must have other qualities, if it was a sniffer dog I hoped that they didn’t put it to work, it would’ve drowned!
I had hoped to get up Conic hill, the view is worth the climb but today it wasn’t going to be such a reward and I had to keep my eye on the time, I wanted to back to Rowardennan by 5.00pm, it won’t be dark but on a dull wet day like this it won’t be very bright either. So I decided to make the marker post half way on the hill my turn around point. On the way back I shouldn’t have been surprised by the size that the puddles had grown going by the amount of rain that was bouncing off my bonce, I had a fair bit of wading but at least it wasn’t knickers deep, yes, I’ve been there and at Salochy! Ok, it doesn’t have to be a tsunami for a short arse like me to be knicker deep but shoosh! don’t tell Auntie Val I was out on my own, I got such a talking to for going out at the beginning of the year on my tod, I can just hear Val’s concerned tones “Those wet leaves covering the boulder steps! You could slip and do yourself an injury!” Well, I did do the Eeek! face once, but being a short arse with a low centre of gravity and some arm waving I was fine. I wasn't the only nutsy out, there was someone water skiing! Check my blurry photo!
I did do a bit of thinking while I was there, and plans are over-rated, what’s for me won’t go by me and winter, bring it on, I can do layers!
Saturday, 30 October 2010
Sunday, 24 October 2010
I'm ok
Well, it’s Sunday, I’m on the wine but tonight is no rant from a miserable moo! Although I’ve done naff all running this week, my back has been bad, muscle spasm and the tingly pain down my left leg but I managed a sair sack o’ tatties five miler yesterday round my Crombie Point, Torryburn route. Looking across to the Ochils, the sky was clear blue and the hills had a dusting of snow, beautiful, which reminded me of a solo run I had at the beginning of the year on the WHW from Bridge of Orchy down to the Crianlarich fence and back. The Monarch and his Kingdom
Along the shore I looked back towards the Pentlands but they were dark and brooding, Grangemouth had it’s Lowrysque qualities, I was listening to an old Runrig, BBC Session Live, Glasgow ’96 and The Times They Are A Changin’ stuck a chord and I don’t just mean the seasons, although I think that the thought of a hard winter has been getting me down, I’ve worn at least one layer of long sleeves all summer as it is and the memory of last year brittle cold hasn’t faded. I embrace 80’s chic and have a selection of legwarmers at the ready!
A lot of folks are planning next years races and apart from entering the WHW race which along with Pauline I have no doubt of getting in although it is a ballot, I am a perennial optimist, Pauline will get in being a previous winner and me because I done over five. Apart from that I haven’t a Scooby what I’ll be doing and that makes me feel uneasy, I like to know what’s ahead and next year won’t give me that luxury.
Yesteday Erin and I had a lazy afternoon with Mum. Demi, my nine year old niece didn’t come, neither did Pauline, both of them having a cold and with Mum having just had her first cycle of chemo, her immune system was at zero so they did the sensible but not happy thing and stayed away. Saturday has always been Grandma day, Erin and Demi dropped off, Pauline and I going off for a long run, Mum always made a big pot of soup for when we got back.
A Grandma sandwich
Yesterday when I was running I remembered something I wrote to Mum when she was still in Australia and wasn’t sure if I’d ever see her again but I would had sold my soul, pawned Pete and Erin if necessary, although we were in constant contact by phone, it was still hard to say some stuff. I sent a card “Remember you are your daughter’s mother, and when the going get tough, the tough hold their head up so they can spit the bastard in the eye!” That was the first time I’ve ever used sweary words in front of my Mum but I think it warranted it. I had looked the Grim Reaper in the face in 2005 and spat in his eye and that was what I was referring to.
Last night I trawled through my blog reading my ramblings on the run I had at the end of January and some others, I am bloody privileged and I won’t forget it. I have had a good year and it’s time I went back out on my comfort zone. A six hour dander on the West Highland Way is what I need and as soon as I can fit it in I’ll be there.
Along the shore I looked back towards the Pentlands but they were dark and brooding, Grangemouth had it’s Lowrysque qualities, I was listening to an old Runrig, BBC Session Live, Glasgow ’96 and The Times They Are A Changin’ stuck a chord and I don’t just mean the seasons, although I think that the thought of a hard winter has been getting me down, I’ve worn at least one layer of long sleeves all summer as it is and the memory of last year brittle cold hasn’t faded. I embrace 80’s chic and have a selection of legwarmers at the ready!
A lot of folks are planning next years races and apart from entering the WHW race which along with Pauline I have no doubt of getting in although it is a ballot, I am a perennial optimist, Pauline will get in being a previous winner and me because I done over five. Apart from that I haven’t a Scooby what I’ll be doing and that makes me feel uneasy, I like to know what’s ahead and next year won’t give me that luxury.
Yesteday Erin and I had a lazy afternoon with Mum. Demi, my nine year old niece didn’t come, neither did Pauline, both of them having a cold and with Mum having just had her first cycle of chemo, her immune system was at zero so they did the sensible but not happy thing and stayed away. Saturday has always been Grandma day, Erin and Demi dropped off, Pauline and I going off for a long run, Mum always made a big pot of soup for when we got back.
A Grandma sandwich
Yesterday when I was running I remembered something I wrote to Mum when she was still in Australia and wasn’t sure if I’d ever see her again but I would had sold my soul, pawned Pete and Erin if necessary, although we were in constant contact by phone, it was still hard to say some stuff. I sent a card “Remember you are your daughter’s mother, and when the going get tough, the tough hold their head up so they can spit the bastard in the eye!” That was the first time I’ve ever used sweary words in front of my Mum but I think it warranted it. I had looked the Grim Reaper in the face in 2005 and spat in his eye and that was what I was referring to.
Last night I trawled through my blog reading my ramblings on the run I had at the end of January and some others, I am bloody privileged and I won’t forget it. I have had a good year and it’s time I went back out on my comfort zone. A six hour dander on the West Highland Way is what I need and as soon as I can fit it in I’ll be there.
Sunday, 17 October 2010
I didn’t mean to have such an aggressive rant on my blog last week as I’m not an aggressive person, and normally when I drink I’m a sleepy drunk no a fightin’ one! I now look at it like I was a lioness protecting her own rather than the “What are you lookin’ at!” chip on shoulder.
But hey ho, it’s a long time since I’ve been bother by other people’s opinions so I don’t really know why I was so defensive.
I think I’ve been feeling a bit frustrated since the Perth 24 hour, I know I have nothing to prove but I know I can do better, even a fortnight afterwards I’ve been looking for another one but apart from travelling to foreign fields it’s a no go.
I have felt a bit low over the last week, but I yesterday I bounced back, I was running my usual five mile Crombie Point, Torryburn route along the Forth shore, my hamstrings are tight, my left Achilles is giving me a bit of grief, I felt like a big fat sack o’ tatties. The sun was shining, looking over to Grangemouth, the white fluffy smoke headed straight up, no wind, not what you rate as picturesque as anywhere on the West Highland Way but I always think it has L.S. Lowry qualities. I was listening to Runrig’s Long Distance, an album I haven’t listened to in ages and just recently stuck it on my ipod. It’s a salve for a weary soul, especially Hearts of Olden Glory it brought a lump to my throat as I ran but my head was up, I felt proud of who I am and my heritage. This was not an easy run but I still felt privileged I have not forgotten how lucky I am.
I am writing this also under the influence, not quite a whole bottle of wine but I’m working on it.
But hey ho, it’s a long time since I’ve been bother by other people’s opinions so I don’t really know why I was so defensive.
I think I’ve been feeling a bit frustrated since the Perth 24 hour, I know I have nothing to prove but I know I can do better, even a fortnight afterwards I’ve been looking for another one but apart from travelling to foreign fields it’s a no go.
I have felt a bit low over the last week, but I yesterday I bounced back, I was running my usual five mile Crombie Point, Torryburn route along the Forth shore, my hamstrings are tight, my left Achilles is giving me a bit of grief, I felt like a big fat sack o’ tatties. The sun was shining, looking over to Grangemouth, the white fluffy smoke headed straight up, no wind, not what you rate as picturesque as anywhere on the West Highland Way but I always think it has L.S. Lowry qualities. I was listening to Runrig’s Long Distance, an album I haven’t listened to in ages and just recently stuck it on my ipod. It’s a salve for a weary soul, especially Hearts of Olden Glory it brought a lump to my throat as I ran but my head was up, I felt proud of who I am and my heritage. This was not an easy run but I still felt privileged I have not forgotten how lucky I am.
I am writing this also under the influence, not quite a whole bottle of wine but I’m working on it.
Sunday, 10 October 2010
A bottle of wine made me say this
A few of my friends have been extremely honest on their blogs lately. I have never been dishonest but I have kept stuff to myself. Like for instance my husband has been suffering from ME for the last seventeen years. Yes we live on Incapacity Benefit, we are not benefit cheats, although ME sufferers are apparently a prime suspect for it.
Some folks tend to judge people by their employment, I am not embarrassed of my job but I know the narrow minded do this. I know that by the rolling of the eyes and rudeness of people I come across at work. I am a Tesco checkout chick, I make stuff go beep so I must be thick.
We live in a small flat, I drive a six year old Fiat but both are paid for, we own naebudy nuthin!
I am extremely proud of my achievements, lately I have had a bit of media attention, and there is more in the pipeline. I feel a wee bit self conscious, but when I came out of hospital after having the brain haemorrhage the most common comment I came across was “Oh, I knew somebody that had a brain haemorrhage but they died!” That did bugger all for my confidence! But now I feel the more folk that know there is life after such a trauma the better. So if somebody you know is in the same predicament you can say “I know some one who had one and they are doing bloody brilliantly!”
I have written this under the influence of a bottle of wine but I stand by it, I am flaming well proud of what I have achieved and I’m not finished yet, I plan a hell of a lot more!
Some folks tend to judge people by their employment, I am not embarrassed of my job but I know the narrow minded do this. I know that by the rolling of the eyes and rudeness of people I come across at work. I am a Tesco checkout chick, I make stuff go beep so I must be thick.
We live in a small flat, I drive a six year old Fiat but both are paid for, we own naebudy nuthin!
I am extremely proud of my achievements, lately I have had a bit of media attention, and there is more in the pipeline. I feel a wee bit self conscious, but when I came out of hospital after having the brain haemorrhage the most common comment I came across was “Oh, I knew somebody that had a brain haemorrhage but they died!” That did bugger all for my confidence! But now I feel the more folk that know there is life after such a trauma the better. So if somebody you know is in the same predicament you can say “I know some one who had one and they are doing bloody brilliantly!”
I have written this under the influence of a bottle of wine but I stand by it, I am flaming well proud of what I have achieved and I’m not finished yet, I plan a hell of a lot more!
Wednesday, 6 October 2010
Monster fun
Loch Ness marathon is a special race for me, not just because I’ve ran every one, running it in 2005 six months after having a brain haemorrhage was a big tick in the box of my recovery. This year was no less special; it still reaffirms how lucky I am to be here and have the health to run.
I put no pressure on myself to run a fast time ( fast for me) it was a month after the 24 hour race at Perth and that had taken a lot out of me, I felt my muscles have recovered but my reserves are still low, my batteries are on a trickle charge with still a fair bit to go. At Perth I went through the marathon in 4 hours 21 mins so just to be ahead of that will do me fine.
Breakfast at the B&B was at 6.00am, four hours before the race so I thought I’d be adventurous and have the cooked one after my big bowl of porridge, but not too adventurous, it was the veggie option.
The bus journey was long and uneventful but nice to sit and blether with Pauline, Julie and Marcus, the bus stopped near the start, we got ready to get off then it moved on for about half a mile before letting us off. As we tried to walk up towards the start two volunteers with our health and safety their priority, were having a very hard job trying to hold the runners back until all the buses had gone past. King Cnut had more success! I hope this hasn’t put them off volunteering again, there nothing grumpier than a pre-race runner bursting for a pee!
The Pipe Band marching through the runners just before the start always brings a lump to my throat as I remember the apprehension I felt when they came through in 2005 then the elation I had at the finish.
Then we were off, I ran the first three miles or so with Grant from Fife AC who was having an easy start, he has also ran every Loch Ness, he told me that Collette, who I know from the Glenrothes 50km has also ran them all too and when she goes home to Ireland, Dublin Marathon at the end of the month will be her 200th marathon. (Congratulations Collette xx) When Grant commented on the pace, I thought it was a bit quick for me, even though it’s all down hill for the first few miles, I let him go on. I was feeling fine; my muscles were fresh having only done a handful of five mile runs and one nine mile run since the 24 hour race but I knew this wouldn’t last. At 13 miles I looked at my watch for the first time and I was surprised it was just before 2 hours. I had no push for the wee hills earlier and just eased myself up them, my quads were starting to hurt and felt empty.
Although I carried a couple of gels I also had a couple of mouthfuls of Lucozade at every station but the Fifer in me thought what a waste, it’s a pity the bottles aren’t half the size, even that would’ve been too much. That stuff is too concentrated and just sits like a brick in the guts if you drink too much. I thought Nessie is going to be flipping out the Loch like a dolphin on such a sugar rush once all that wasted Lucozade runs down into the loch! I had considered pointing at the loch and shouting “Look there’s Nessie!” but I chickened out, folk would’ve know for sure that I’m nuts!
At around sixteen miles I found a new best friend, I was chatting to guy who now lives in London but hails from the Black Isle, I said my first marathon was at the Black Isle in 1992 which is no more. I pointed to the pins holding my number and told him I still use the same ones that I used then. He then asked if it was me that had a wee story in the race magazine and when I said “Yeah” He replied “You look a lot younger than in the photo!”
The support at Dores was phenomenal; they were so noisy and enthusiastic and lifted the spirit of every runner going through. I kept glancing behind on the wee climb out of Dores getting a last look at the cracking view down the Loch before it disappeared, a tonic for a tired body. My quads weren’t screaming at me but were shouting loud and abusively, I am good at listening to my body but I told them to shut up and get on with it. At the hill at 18 miles I started to feel better, I think the change to a shorter stride and slower pace was more to my liking. I wouldn’t call it a comfort zone but a zone I’m used to, running slow, staying relaxed, keeping a good posture no matter how sore and tired I am but I had wished I’d brought some painkillers with me. Mentally I’m always good and 26.2 miles isn’t scary for me but there is no such thing as an easy marathon no matter how many or how far your previous adventures have been.
On the long down hill I let gravity work its magic pulling me down closer to the finish. I tried to push on but I had nothing left. You could hear the finish from the other side of the river, just along and over the bridge; I was looking forward to the new finish, no more plodding up and round the stadium with the sharp turn to the finish, just straight along. Once over the bridge I tried to wind it up a bit but my legs weren’t playing, they’d had enough. I managed to keep a little energy for some fun at the finish, I’d remembered a video Mel, another Carnegie Crazy… err… I mean Carnegie Harrier had posted on facebook of her finish at Stirling 10km, it was lovely and made me smile and I jokingly asked if I could borrow it for Loch Ness. As Bryan Burnett shouted my name I thought yeah, let’s go for it. I raised my arms over my head and gave huge waves and blew kisses to the crowd, but on my rush for the line I forgot to high five some one in the crowd, oops, I’m sure Mel won’t give me a row for not getting it right!
Although I was awfy tired and awfy sair it didn’t detract from the sheer pleasure I get from running Loch Ness, I even manage to finish within my goal, 4hrs 14mins although that wasn’t really important. I’m alive and kicking having monster fun.
I put no pressure on myself to run a fast time ( fast for me) it was a month after the 24 hour race at Perth and that had taken a lot out of me, I felt my muscles have recovered but my reserves are still low, my batteries are on a trickle charge with still a fair bit to go. At Perth I went through the marathon in 4 hours 21 mins so just to be ahead of that will do me fine.
Breakfast at the B&B was at 6.00am, four hours before the race so I thought I’d be adventurous and have the cooked one after my big bowl of porridge, but not too adventurous, it was the veggie option.
The bus journey was long and uneventful but nice to sit and blether with Pauline, Julie and Marcus, the bus stopped near the start, we got ready to get off then it moved on for about half a mile before letting us off. As we tried to walk up towards the start two volunteers with our health and safety their priority, were having a very hard job trying to hold the runners back until all the buses had gone past. King Cnut had more success! I hope this hasn’t put them off volunteering again, there nothing grumpier than a pre-race runner bursting for a pee!
The Pipe Band marching through the runners just before the start always brings a lump to my throat as I remember the apprehension I felt when they came through in 2005 then the elation I had at the finish.
Then we were off, I ran the first three miles or so with Grant from Fife AC who was having an easy start, he has also ran every Loch Ness, he told me that Collette, who I know from the Glenrothes 50km has also ran them all too and when she goes home to Ireland, Dublin Marathon at the end of the month will be her 200th marathon. (Congratulations Collette xx) When Grant commented on the pace, I thought it was a bit quick for me, even though it’s all down hill for the first few miles, I let him go on. I was feeling fine; my muscles were fresh having only done a handful of five mile runs and one nine mile run since the 24 hour race but I knew this wouldn’t last. At 13 miles I looked at my watch for the first time and I was surprised it was just before 2 hours. I had no push for the wee hills earlier and just eased myself up them, my quads were starting to hurt and felt empty.
Although I carried a couple of gels I also had a couple of mouthfuls of Lucozade at every station but the Fifer in me thought what a waste, it’s a pity the bottles aren’t half the size, even that would’ve been too much. That stuff is too concentrated and just sits like a brick in the guts if you drink too much. I thought Nessie is going to be flipping out the Loch like a dolphin on such a sugar rush once all that wasted Lucozade runs down into the loch! I had considered pointing at the loch and shouting “Look there’s Nessie!” but I chickened out, folk would’ve know for sure that I’m nuts!
At around sixteen miles I found a new best friend, I was chatting to guy who now lives in London but hails from the Black Isle, I said my first marathon was at the Black Isle in 1992 which is no more. I pointed to the pins holding my number and told him I still use the same ones that I used then. He then asked if it was me that had a wee story in the race magazine and when I said “Yeah” He replied “You look a lot younger than in the photo!”
The support at Dores was phenomenal; they were so noisy and enthusiastic and lifted the spirit of every runner going through. I kept glancing behind on the wee climb out of Dores getting a last look at the cracking view down the Loch before it disappeared, a tonic for a tired body. My quads weren’t screaming at me but were shouting loud and abusively, I am good at listening to my body but I told them to shut up and get on with it. At the hill at 18 miles I started to feel better, I think the change to a shorter stride and slower pace was more to my liking. I wouldn’t call it a comfort zone but a zone I’m used to, running slow, staying relaxed, keeping a good posture no matter how sore and tired I am but I had wished I’d brought some painkillers with me. Mentally I’m always good and 26.2 miles isn’t scary for me but there is no such thing as an easy marathon no matter how many or how far your previous adventures have been.
On the long down hill I let gravity work its magic pulling me down closer to the finish. I tried to push on but I had nothing left. You could hear the finish from the other side of the river, just along and over the bridge; I was looking forward to the new finish, no more plodding up and round the stadium with the sharp turn to the finish, just straight along. Once over the bridge I tried to wind it up a bit but my legs weren’t playing, they’d had enough. I managed to keep a little energy for some fun at the finish, I’d remembered a video Mel, another Carnegie Crazy… err… I mean Carnegie Harrier had posted on facebook of her finish at Stirling 10km, it was lovely and made me smile and I jokingly asked if I could borrow it for Loch Ness. As Bryan Burnett shouted my name I thought yeah, let’s go for it. I raised my arms over my head and gave huge waves and blew kisses to the crowd, but on my rush for the line I forgot to high five some one in the crowd, oops, I’m sure Mel won’t give me a row for not getting it right!
Although I was awfy tired and awfy sair it didn’t detract from the sheer pleasure I get from running Loch Ness, I even manage to finish within my goal, 4hrs 14mins although that wasn’t really important. I’m alive and kicking having monster fun.
Sunday, 12 September 2010
Perth Ultra Fest 24 hour 2010 – I’m not stopping!
Caution – some readers may find some parts of this report might put them off their cup of tea and Hobnob and there is strong language in the middle.
Pauline was struggling with the decision of whether to run or not, after the long flight back from Australia her knee was not right. It was improving but not fast enough and if she started there was no question of DNF, it would’ve been 24 hours no matter what. I didn’t try to sway her against running but when she made her decision not to run I was relieved. I have seen her push herself to destruction before. The small consolation, she would channel all her disappointment into my support. I would be running for both of us. No pressure then!
Although my running was fine, I hadn’t been focussing on this race at all. I knew at the beginning of the year that the Perth Ultra Fest was happening with the possibility of it being an International event with a wee chance of representing Scotland again. I planned to run the 24 hour race anyway. It wasn’t until the end of July that I knew what vest I was wearing and it was a boot up the bum to get some quality and quantity into my training before a wee taper.
Doing support at a 24 hour event was new for Pauline and on Thursday evening we spent a couple of hours going over my race plan. The motivation started as soon as she picked my up on Saturday morning, she pointed over to a big sunflower growing in my neighbour’s garden. “That’s how I want you to be, tall, straight and strong with your head up to the sun.” I gave it a bit of thought, “Hmm? Yeah, that’s a good one, I can do sunflower!”
I didn’t need much faffing before the start, I was ready to go once I’d put my number on and the chip on my shoe, a couple of photos
(roadrunpics.com)
and at 10.00am we were off. Soon settled down into my groove, it was going to be warm, I took off the t-shirt from under my vest, there was a novelty, it’s not often I run with just one layer, I hate being cold and rarely run at a pace to break sweat especially with something this long.
At 12 noon the 50km and 100km started and they whooshed past loads and always with lovely encouragement, Scott made me laugh, he gave me a round of applause every time he lapped me. I went through the marathon in 4hrs 21mins, a nice steady start, then 50km in 5hrs 15mins, it was a wee bit slower than my 2008 splits but that was ok, my plan was to take it easy in the heat and save myself for when it cooled down.
I could feel the toes next to my big toes on both feet getting hot and decided to change my socks to thinner ones. Pauline got the bag with my spare shoes and socks ready for the next lap. There was the start of a couple of blisters on my toes so lots of Body Glide around my tootsies then on with flesh socks but I was staying with the same shoes. I was half way round the next lap when I glanced down at my feet. What a numpty!! I was wearing odd shoes! They were the same make and model except that the pair I was racing in I’d only ran about 40 miles in, the others I used for training, and were quite grubby with loads of miles in them, I considered just leaving them since my “racing” shoe was the one with the chip on it but I was hoping to run another 90 miles so I thought it would be better to wear out my shoes evenly and decided to changed back. There was a lot of hee haws from support when I next went round and announced that I wanted to change just one shoe.
I settled back down until around 40 odd miles when I felt a wee bit chafing between my butt cheeks, which was a bit surprising, I don’t normally chafe at all, anywhere, except under my bra where I take the pre-emptive action of a wee bit of micro-pore tape. It must be the heat, I was also covered in salt, I felt quite manky, I’m not normally this sweaty but it was soon sorted with a wee freshen with a flannel round my face, neck and arms and a wet wipe and a dollop of Vaseline between my butt cheeks (sorry if that’s too much information… but I did warn you!)
I was refreshed and back into my groove knocking out consistent laps, not that I could tell from my watch, I never look it, I always run to my body and its built in metronome, I was wearing it as a fourth lap counter, just back up for the chip on my shoe (dodgy and totally untrustworthy) a lap counter (give me a thumbs up from a cheery face with a clip board any day) and Pauline (totally trustworthy) There was a couple of anomalies with my laps and it was always the chip that was duff.
The sun went down, the temperature cooled and the youngsters that had appeared were having fun with the glow sticks that were marking the path in the dark, it didn’t worry me, I had done a few laps by then and knew the surface well, on one lap there were a few of the kids on the path, I yelled “COMING THROUGH!” They promptly moved, I thanked them and a second later one was running beside me and asked how many laps I had to do until I was finished. “Dunno, it’s as many as I can do in 24 hours!” I replied, next came the usual questions, “When do you stop to sleep and eat?” He was awe stuck when I replied “I don’t!” he wished me well. The entertainment came to end when the Police arrived and told them it was bed time.
By lap 46 (109km/67miles) I was equal to my time in 2008, Pauline and I were doing the COME ON! ALRIGHT! shout. A wee tradition we now have which started at Perth last time Perth 2008 report I felt strong and pulled in the splits until I was 7 minutes ahead, all I had to do was maintain and I’d have a PB. Seemples!
roadrunpics.com
Not so seemples, with around eight hours to go my stomach started giving me grief, I had some crystallised ginger which usually helps but not this time, my guts continued to bubble and boil like a witch’s cauldron. I burped and boaked to no avail, this was going to be a long night, I wondered why it was called the dry boak, my eyes were watering, my nose running and I was spitting plenty slavers, but no matter how many times my tummy muscles heaved I just wasn’t producing the nice big splatter with the diced carrots. Pauline tried to motivate me, I was going really slow and had lost my advantage, she shouted “COME ON!” I answered “FUCK OFF!” she pulled the earphone from my lug, “COME ON!” “FUCK OFF!” she tried a third time, “COME ON!” right in my ear, I’m nothing if not determined, I wasn’t in the mood to play. “FUCK OFF!” This was the first time ever in my life that I’ve sworn at Pauline. When I’ve supported Pauline during her moments of stress in races she has been insulting but never once did she swear at me, I have raised the bar in twinny tantrums.
A wee while later I had a fashion diva strop when Pauline tried to make me wear her Granny mac, she argued it will keep me warm, I disagreed, plastic only keeps you warm if the heat is there in the first place, I felt so cold that a corpse would’ve had a higher core temperature. She took it away and came back with my fleece blanket, that was better and at least I wore it with the panache of a pashmina and not a burka!
This photo isn't out of focus I really was that fuzzy!
Eventually, after a couple of hours I managed to spew, after all that effort I wasn’t impressed, “Is that it?” I thought. I’m afraid my puke protocol was lacking, I didn’t move over onto the grass, and left my wee splatter right in the middle of the path. I apologised and warned the relay team when I next came round “Try not to slide on the spew in the middle of the path up there!”
I can’t say I was running on empty ‘cause I wasn’t even running, it took all my focus just to stroll/stagger forward, every lap the benches on the far side were trying to seduce me into lying down but I knew that if I sat down even for a minute it would be game over, I was going so slow but I knew that if I stopped I’d go light headed and my legs would seize. It was going to be a very very long night, when I went through race control, everyone was encouraging me, but I could see by their faces they were thinking “God, you look like shit!” If anyone had actually said that to me I would’ve taken it as a very flattering compliment, I felt a hell of a lot worse! Andy Smith looked me in the eye and said something encouraging; I eyeballed him back and said “I’m not stopping!” I think I said that to everyone that looked concerned.
The sky slowly lightened, that mean bugger aka Pauline took Blanky away from me and gave me Sue’s Harriers jacket and told me to move and swing my arms! I felt colder with just the jacket which was on top of a fleece, my vest, a long sleeved top and a short sleeved top! The only way to generate heat was to move forward as fast as I could go. I was trying, honest! Occasionally my blisters would remind me they were there, I didn’t mind a wee bit of blister pain, it’s only skin, sharp and superficial and distracted me from the pain in my guts.
Pauline was shouting at me to run, she counted out ten paces of running to ten paces of walking, when I was out of ear shot I modified it to ten paces run/twenty paces walk. I had a stitch on both sides and in the middle when I was running (I didn’t know that was possible), it eased when I walked, I felt as though I’d been Claymore-d across the guts. Eventually I extended my running paces to my walking paces, I warmed up, went though 100 miles, (earlier I didn’t think that that was going to happen) lost the jacket, lost the fleece. I was moving forward with the pride of a Rampant Lion, time also moved on, neither of us were fast but both consistent.
The end was in sight, John gave me a wee stick with my race number on it, Pauline gave me my Saltire, I was to run ever step until the hooter sounded. I went past Aileen, she was ahead of me by several laps “Run with me, let’s finish together!” but her legs were stuck in her pace, I ran up the wee hill through the gap in the wall, Pauline was now allowed to trail me to supervise my collapse at the end.
There was William ahead. Pauline shouted “Runner coming through!” There was a proper gent with a sense of humour; William Sichel holder of 32 World, British and Scottish records, with a smile on his face, raised his arms in a “We’re not worthy” salute as I (me!!! a wee bauchle of a Fife wife) went by!!!!! The highlight of my twenty four hours!
The hooter sounded,
I was between benches on the far side, Pauline planted my wee stick into the ground, I walked on towards the bench ahead, 
“I’ll have you now, ya tease!” I lay on the bench with my feet on the bucket, I had stopped. Lots of deep breathes, I wondered when my legs would get the message, they were still jumping about. Val appeared and with both Pauline’s and Val’s assistance I manage to walk back to the Scottish camp, Gail and Helena came up to watch the finish of the 24 hour and hugged the life out of me.
It was over, more deep breathes, this was one of the most painful 24 hours of my life, and without the support of everyone there I doubt I would have managed to do what I did. I would like to thank everyone personally but that will take too long, so to ever race official that gave up their time. Thank You. To every supporter there. Thank You. To the Scottish team. Thank You. To Pauline to say Thank You is inadequate and a box of Thorntons doesn’t make the apology but that will have to do. To Fabienne and Julie, your kindness and tender care will never be forgotten as you got my battered body out of its manky race clothes and into warm, clean and dry clothes. Thank You. To Lorna who gave up her cosy jacket to some random in need just before the prize giving when I was shaking with cold like an old washing machine on fast spin. Thank You.
Running round in circles is quite different to the adventure of a trail race but there is still a tangible magic there, what is beautiful is the way every runner supported each other, nobody past anyone without some words of encouragement, I knew ever time Chris Carver lapped me by his cadence, it was so fast. I was so pleased for Chris that he had won, there’s a guy that’s had more than his fair share of battles, a most deserved win.
This was just my third 24 hour race and it was the least distance I’ve had but I’m not disappointed, I still have a lot to learn, what I achieved in this race is not visible on a result sheet. I knew I was a tough burd before but I found a new depth within myself, although I’ve never experienced gut problems like this before my head stayed up not once did my posture crumple or did I wish I was elsewhere, I wasn’t the bonniest sunflower in the field, I swayed in the breeze but I did not break! My strength was honed and tempered beyond what I knew before, and that will stay with me always to take towards future challenges. 200km may be beyond me but it’s my goal and I’m hanging on to it, that’s for the future to know and for me to find out. One thing I know for sure is that I am capable of going further than I’ve gone before.
Pauline was struggling with the decision of whether to run or not, after the long flight back from Australia her knee was not right. It was improving but not fast enough and if she started there was no question of DNF, it would’ve been 24 hours no matter what. I didn’t try to sway her against running but when she made her decision not to run I was relieved. I have seen her push herself to destruction before. The small consolation, she would channel all her disappointment into my support. I would be running for both of us. No pressure then!
Although my running was fine, I hadn’t been focussing on this race at all. I knew at the beginning of the year that the Perth Ultra Fest was happening with the possibility of it being an International event with a wee chance of representing Scotland again. I planned to run the 24 hour race anyway. It wasn’t until the end of July that I knew what vest I was wearing and it was a boot up the bum to get some quality and quantity into my training before a wee taper.
Doing support at a 24 hour event was new for Pauline and on Thursday evening we spent a couple of hours going over my race plan. The motivation started as soon as she picked my up on Saturday morning, she pointed over to a big sunflower growing in my neighbour’s garden. “That’s how I want you to be, tall, straight and strong with your head up to the sun.” I gave it a bit of thought, “Hmm? Yeah, that’s a good one, I can do sunflower!”
I didn’t need much faffing before the start, I was ready to go once I’d put my number on and the chip on my shoe, a couple of photos
(roadrunpics.com)and at 10.00am we were off. Soon settled down into my groove, it was going to be warm, I took off the t-shirt from under my vest, there was a novelty, it’s not often I run with just one layer, I hate being cold and rarely run at a pace to break sweat especially with something this long.
At 12 noon the 50km and 100km started and they whooshed past loads and always with lovely encouragement, Scott made me laugh, he gave me a round of applause every time he lapped me. I went through the marathon in 4hrs 21mins, a nice steady start, then 50km in 5hrs 15mins, it was a wee bit slower than my 2008 splits but that was ok, my plan was to take it easy in the heat and save myself for when it cooled down.
I could feel the toes next to my big toes on both feet getting hot and decided to change my socks to thinner ones. Pauline got the bag with my spare shoes and socks ready for the next lap. There was the start of a couple of blisters on my toes so lots of Body Glide around my tootsies then on with flesh socks but I was staying with the same shoes. I was half way round the next lap when I glanced down at my feet. What a numpty!! I was wearing odd shoes! They were the same make and model except that the pair I was racing in I’d only ran about 40 miles in, the others I used for training, and were quite grubby with loads of miles in them, I considered just leaving them since my “racing” shoe was the one with the chip on it but I was hoping to run another 90 miles so I thought it would be better to wear out my shoes evenly and decided to changed back. There was a lot of hee haws from support when I next went round and announced that I wanted to change just one shoe.
I settled back down until around 40 odd miles when I felt a wee bit chafing between my butt cheeks, which was a bit surprising, I don’t normally chafe at all, anywhere, except under my bra where I take the pre-emptive action of a wee bit of micro-pore tape. It must be the heat, I was also covered in salt, I felt quite manky, I’m not normally this sweaty but it was soon sorted with a wee freshen with a flannel round my face, neck and arms and a wet wipe and a dollop of Vaseline between my butt cheeks (sorry if that’s too much information… but I did warn you!)
I was refreshed and back into my groove knocking out consistent laps, not that I could tell from my watch, I never look it, I always run to my body and its built in metronome, I was wearing it as a fourth lap counter, just back up for the chip on my shoe (dodgy and totally untrustworthy) a lap counter (give me a thumbs up from a cheery face with a clip board any day) and Pauline (totally trustworthy) There was a couple of anomalies with my laps and it was always the chip that was duff.
The sun went down, the temperature cooled and the youngsters that had appeared were having fun with the glow sticks that were marking the path in the dark, it didn’t worry me, I had done a few laps by then and knew the surface well, on one lap there were a few of the kids on the path, I yelled “COMING THROUGH!” They promptly moved, I thanked them and a second later one was running beside me and asked how many laps I had to do until I was finished. “Dunno, it’s as many as I can do in 24 hours!” I replied, next came the usual questions, “When do you stop to sleep and eat?” He was awe stuck when I replied “I don’t!” he wished me well. The entertainment came to end when the Police arrived and told them it was bed time.
By lap 46 (109km/67miles) I was equal to my time in 2008, Pauline and I were doing the COME ON! ALRIGHT! shout. A wee tradition we now have which started at Perth last time Perth 2008 report I felt strong and pulled in the splits until I was 7 minutes ahead, all I had to do was maintain and I’d have a PB. Seemples!
roadrunpics.com
Not so seemples, with around eight hours to go my stomach started giving me grief, I had some crystallised ginger which usually helps but not this time, my guts continued to bubble and boil like a witch’s cauldron. I burped and boaked to no avail, this was going to be a long night, I wondered why it was called the dry boak, my eyes were watering, my nose running and I was spitting plenty slavers, but no matter how many times my tummy muscles heaved I just wasn’t producing the nice big splatter with the diced carrots. Pauline tried to motivate me, I was going really slow and had lost my advantage, she shouted “COME ON!” I answered “FUCK OFF!” she pulled the earphone from my lug, “COME ON!” “FUCK OFF!” she tried a third time, “COME ON!” right in my ear, I’m nothing if not determined, I wasn’t in the mood to play. “FUCK OFF!” This was the first time ever in my life that I’ve sworn at Pauline. When I’ve supported Pauline during her moments of stress in races she has been insulting but never once did she swear at me, I have raised the bar in twinny tantrums.
A wee while later I had a fashion diva strop when Pauline tried to make me wear her Granny mac, she argued it will keep me warm, I disagreed, plastic only keeps you warm if the heat is there in the first place, I felt so cold that a corpse would’ve had a higher core temperature. She took it away and came back with my fleece blanket, that was better and at least I wore it with the panache of a pashmina and not a burka!
This photo isn't out of focus I really was that fuzzy!Eventually, after a couple of hours I managed to spew, after all that effort I wasn’t impressed, “Is that it?” I thought. I’m afraid my puke protocol was lacking, I didn’t move over onto the grass, and left my wee splatter right in the middle of the path. I apologised and warned the relay team when I next came round “Try not to slide on the spew in the middle of the path up there!”
I can’t say I was running on empty ‘cause I wasn’t even running, it took all my focus just to stroll/stagger forward, every lap the benches on the far side were trying to seduce me into lying down but I knew that if I sat down even for a minute it would be game over, I was going so slow but I knew that if I stopped I’d go light headed and my legs would seize. It was going to be a very very long night, when I went through race control, everyone was encouraging me, but I could see by their faces they were thinking “God, you look like shit!” If anyone had actually said that to me I would’ve taken it as a very flattering compliment, I felt a hell of a lot worse! Andy Smith looked me in the eye and said something encouraging; I eyeballed him back and said “I’m not stopping!” I think I said that to everyone that looked concerned.
The sky slowly lightened, that mean bugger aka Pauline took Blanky away from me and gave me Sue’s Harriers jacket and told me to move and swing my arms! I felt colder with just the jacket which was on top of a fleece, my vest, a long sleeved top and a short sleeved top! The only way to generate heat was to move forward as fast as I could go. I was trying, honest! Occasionally my blisters would remind me they were there, I didn’t mind a wee bit of blister pain, it’s only skin, sharp and superficial and distracted me from the pain in my guts.
Pauline was shouting at me to run, she counted out ten paces of running to ten paces of walking, when I was out of ear shot I modified it to ten paces run/twenty paces walk. I had a stitch on both sides and in the middle when I was running (I didn’t know that was possible), it eased when I walked, I felt as though I’d been Claymore-d across the guts. Eventually I extended my running paces to my walking paces, I warmed up, went though 100 miles, (earlier I didn’t think that that was going to happen) lost the jacket, lost the fleece. I was moving forward with the pride of a Rampant Lion, time also moved on, neither of us were fast but both consistent.
The end was in sight, John gave me a wee stick with my race number on it, Pauline gave me my Saltire, I was to run ever step until the hooter sounded. I went past Aileen, she was ahead of me by several laps “Run with me, let’s finish together!” but her legs were stuck in her pace, I ran up the wee hill through the gap in the wall, Pauline was now allowed to trail me to supervise my collapse at the end.
There was William ahead. Pauline shouted “Runner coming through!” There was a proper gent with a sense of humour; William Sichel holder of 32 World, British and Scottish records, with a smile on his face, raised his arms in a “We’re not worthy” salute as I (me!!! a wee bauchle of a Fife wife) went by!!!!! The highlight of my twenty four hours!
The hooter sounded,
I was between benches on the far side, Pauline planted my wee stick into the ground, I walked on towards the bench ahead, 
“I’ll have you now, ya tease!” I lay on the bench with my feet on the bucket, I had stopped. Lots of deep breathes, I wondered when my legs would get the message, they were still jumping about. Val appeared and with both Pauline’s and Val’s assistance I manage to walk back to the Scottish camp, Gail and Helena came up to watch the finish of the 24 hour and hugged the life out of me. It was over, more deep breathes, this was one of the most painful 24 hours of my life, and without the support of everyone there I doubt I would have managed to do what I did. I would like to thank everyone personally but that will take too long, so to ever race official that gave up their time. Thank You. To every supporter there. Thank You. To the Scottish team. Thank You. To Pauline to say Thank You is inadequate and a box of Thorntons doesn’t make the apology but that will have to do. To Fabienne and Julie, your kindness and tender care will never be forgotten as you got my battered body out of its manky race clothes and into warm, clean and dry clothes. Thank You. To Lorna who gave up her cosy jacket to some random in need just before the prize giving when I was shaking with cold like an old washing machine on fast spin. Thank You.
Running round in circles is quite different to the adventure of a trail race but there is still a tangible magic there, what is beautiful is the way every runner supported each other, nobody past anyone without some words of encouragement, I knew ever time Chris Carver lapped me by his cadence, it was so fast. I was so pleased for Chris that he had won, there’s a guy that’s had more than his fair share of battles, a most deserved win.
This was just my third 24 hour race and it was the least distance I’ve had but I’m not disappointed, I still have a lot to learn, what I achieved in this race is not visible on a result sheet. I knew I was a tough burd before but I found a new depth within myself, although I’ve never experienced gut problems like this before my head stayed up not once did my posture crumple or did I wish I was elsewhere, I wasn’t the bonniest sunflower in the field, I swayed in the breeze but I did not break! My strength was honed and tempered beyond what I knew before, and that will stay with me always to take towards future challenges. 200km may be beyond me but it’s my goal and I’m hanging on to it, that’s for the future to know and for me to find out. One thing I know for sure is that I am capable of going further than I’ve gone before.
Thursday, 2 September 2010
A few changes for Perth
I’d like to start with saying thank you all for the kind words I’ve received regarding my last post, whether on the post, emails and messages through facebook, it does help knowing I’ve so many friends hold us in their thoughts. Thank You xx
Mum is a fighter, it’s a family trait, our family is riddled with strong women with attitude, one very inspirational lady was Mum’s Auntie Madge, she died in her ninetieth year after fighting ailing health and several strokes, her final words were “Get me up!”
You can see where I get my strength and stunning good looks from.
The bad news for Perth is that Pauline has withdrawn, she has a problem with the back of her knee, it was after the long flights back from Australia, she felt it as soon as she got off the plane at Edinburgh and was initially worried it was a DVT but her Doctor reassured her it wasn’t.
The even worse news is that she is going to channel all her disappointment and frustration into doing my support.
The slightly better news is that the new IAU/IAAF feeding guidelines are in place and she won’t have the length of a feed zone to boot my butt!
The “oh dear!” news is that I have had a sore throat since Sunday and I hope it doesn’t develop into a gunky chest like the WHW race. But Pauline has told me she has already disregarded this piece of information. I have gold, silver and bronze goals, 200km (Gotta aim high!) A PB - anything over 187.449km (116 miles) or better than Keswick last year 172.820km (107 miles)
If the shit hits the fan and I have a horrible race as long as I don’t look like this I’ll be happy!
photo from Brive by Alan Young
Mum is a fighter, it’s a family trait, our family is riddled with strong women with attitude, one very inspirational lady was Mum’s Auntie Madge, she died in her ninetieth year after fighting ailing health and several strokes, her final words were “Get me up!”
You can see where I get my strength and stunning good looks from.
The bad news for Perth is that Pauline has withdrawn, she has a problem with the back of her knee, it was after the long flights back from Australia, she felt it as soon as she got off the plane at Edinburgh and was initially worried it was a DVT but her Doctor reassured her it wasn’t.
The even worse news is that she is going to channel all her disappointment and frustration into doing my support.
The slightly better news is that the new IAU/IAAF feeding guidelines are in place and she won’t have the length of a feed zone to boot my butt!
The “oh dear!” news is that I have had a sore throat since Sunday and I hope it doesn’t develop into a gunky chest like the WHW race. But Pauline has told me she has already disregarded this piece of information. I have gold, silver and bronze goals, 200km (Gotta aim high!) A PB - anything over 187.449km (116 miles) or better than Keswick last year 172.820km (107 miles)
If the shit hits the fan and I have a horrible race as long as I don’t look like this I’ll be happy!
photo from Brive by Alan Young
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