The Sunday Adventure Club

For Those About to Run (We Salute You)

2011-03-14T09:56:00.001-03:00

I can't even face a bottle of Yop! today, that's how serious it is.

The first signs of Deadly Manflu were evident last Monday when i came home from work and instead of going for my second run of the day i had an hour in bed instead. I thought i was just a bit tired after a few weeks with some pretty hard running but i've now had the sorest sore throat ever encountered by a human, i've been feverish for days and now all the glands in my neck are swollen and sore. But today's most serious development is a loss of appetite... that's when i know it's bad.

Hence a blog post. You know when one of those comes around i'm either tapering, recovering, injured or ill.

It seems a world away from Caesars now. I felt recovered pretty quickly and put in some good mileage in November and December. In fact December was great for training with all the snow, it was also good for getting in night runs on Benarty because it's so much easier to see with snow cover reflecting the torchlight so much better. I clocked up the best part of 400 miles in some really testing conditions and felt like i was reaping the benefits in January with some good strong runs. I thought i'd have a go at the Country to Capital race in London as a first ultra of the year but it proved to be a bit of a mistake. It was just far too flat and too much canal path/road for me, as a result i really struggled to run well and didn't enjoy it at all. I don't think i'll do another race like that again unless i can put in the right training (i.e flat stuff) ...but i always say that!

It's been kind of stop-start since C2C with a hip niggle causing me to take 10 days off running and now it's been a week since i've even managed a run... oh well here's to a resurrection at Hardmoors 55 on Saturday!

Paragliding above Loch Leven

Caesar's Camp 100

2010-10-13T10:07:00.002-03:00

I first looked at doing the Caesar's Camp 100 last year but because of the Commonwealth Champs it just didn't fit in, so, when I heard that the Tooting 24 hour race had been moved to mid September thus making it too close to UTMB I decided to go for it. Am I glad I did!

Victor and I drove down the day before and spent the entire 8+ hours journey eating and eating and eating some more. I think I've got the carbo loading sorted now, I start to up the sports drinks through the week then the day before the race eat as much high calorie/high carb food as I can stomach, i find this way i don't feel like a big fat bloke by the time i reach the start line. We reached the Travel Inn and carried the portable fridge in (for keeping the mashed tatties fresh) and the microwave (for porridge on demand). Us guys are organised! The first thing we noticed was the heat in the place, it was like the Bahamas, so we opened the windows the full inch that they would go, making no difference whatsoever. A bit of time spent sorting kit and eating pasta then it was off to bed. After about 4 hours of lying listening to my heart thumping in my chest and feeling the half kilo of chocolate brownies fermenting in my stomach the party boys across the hall arrived back to their room to shout, bang doors and giggle loudly. Victor soon sorted this out with his teacher skills(!) but the fact that I'd only slept about 5 hours the previous night to make sure I got a good night sleep before the race didn't seem like a good idea anymore!

The heat of the room had us both up far too early and we met Carrie and Ray at breakfast and chatted nervously about the race. Carrie and I were doing the 100 so nerves were part of the deal, Victor was doing the 50 but it was his first ultra since his stress fracture (which he got HERE... oops!) and Ray was just doing what Ray does, running another ultra (17 he ran last year!!).

The start area - pics Carrie Craig

We drove into the start area and immediately got excited when we saw the sandy trails snaking off everywhere, it looked amazing! There was a real atmosphere about the place, it reminded me of some of the campgrounds in California, really peaceful apart from the cows which were gathering to watch and moo-ing aggressively, with trails that just made you want to get your shoes on and run. Dave and Mrs Mac (fast becoming my lucky mascots!) arrived as we were listening to the race brief then Henk the mad Dutchman race director sent us on our way.

After about half a mile the trail plunged down a really steep descent, only about 50 feet but it was STEEP then up an even steeper, very rough and stoney climb of maybe 250 feet. This set the tone for the first 4 miles which were like a rollercoaster then some nice runnable stuff with lots of twists and turns until the aid station at 5.6 miles then some lovely singletrack which just made you want to fly, twisting and turning through the woods, down by a lake, through some mud then a real bugger of a climb at 9ish miles followed by a steep descent and a flat run in to begin the next lap. I took a couple of wrong turns losing the route but soon learned to keep my eyes open for the course markers.

At 20 miles - pic Lee MacLean

The thing which was most noticeable was how warm it was once I got running, I had my shirt off by halfway and was sweating buckets, I was going to have to watch my hydration here. After lap 2 I started on the mashed tatties but by the halfway aid station I was feeling really rough, only 75 miles to go I thought to myself... I had no idea of positions or anything until I went through 40 miles and someone said there was maybe 3 in front of me and the leader was 30 mins up, I wasn't too concerned with what was happening though as it was much too early to start pushing. As I went through the aid station at 45m they told me I was 2nd, 10 mins behind the leader who looked "fit as you like". It was confusing because I was lapping people now and didn't know who was doing what lap, or race for that matter, so I was just running my own race but I'd pulled this guy in significantly so thought to myself lets put the foot down a bit and try and catch him. I ran hard all the way to the end of the lap and as I went through people were saying I was the leader, then I saw Victor who had just won the 50 and realised it was him I had been chasing! Because he had originally entered the 100 he still had his 100 mile number so the marshalls thought he was first 100miler!

I was through 60 miles in 10 hours and it had been dark for the last 3, pitch dark since there was no moon, I was well into my stride feeling like I had found a good groove but the long night ahead was certainly intimidating. I told myself from the start 70 miles was halfway, I've always found this is the case in terms of effort and I wasn't far wrong. I went through 70m in 12 hours and mashed tatties were off the menu, solid food wasn't going to go down so I mixed up a complan and drank it then headed off into the darkness. Within about 3 miles I knew this wasn't going to stay down, I was wretching and stumbling about feeling awful so I sat at the side of the trail and threw up until nothing else would come up. I was in a real state but a good puke had me feeling slightly better, I needed to get running again since I was now shivering and cold with my wet, sweaty clothes on and I had no jacket to put on. I felt very lonely out there in the dark. Another runner who I was chatting with earlier came past (I think he was a lap behind but moving well) and told me I'd pass him again no problem and disappeared into the darkness. I knew this was crunch time.

"Here we are, wheels off, it's getting tough and you can't handle it..."

" If you think you're an ultra runner nows the time to prove it, you want to walk then walk..."

" you don't need to puke, you're just looking for an excuse to stop, you can't handle it..."

these were some of the thoughts going through my head, questions were being asked but could I provide some answers? I started to think only in the "now" a few good steps of running then a few more then the torchlight of the runner who passed earlier, he was moving well still but I was getting closer. I was back in the groove as I lapped more runners, all of them encouraging me on and providing me with targets to chase in the dark. I went through 80 miles, ate a banana and took a gel and some water and looked at my watch as i hit the lap button. It read lap 9, LAP 9, yes! If i could pace this nicely and not red line it preserving something for the last lap then the adrenalin would carry me to the finish. As I ran that nasty first 4 miles of the lap I knew the next time i would be here would be my last if I just hung on, the end was becoming a reality. Up that nasty, nasty climb with the big step halfway up and the big juicy red mushroom near the top, relaxing my aching quads on the descent to the 90m point, through the aid station with a couple of gels, half a banana and more water. I'm heading for home!!

Lap 10 was amazing, the feeling that I'd got it right, I'd pulled myself out of that huge downer, i'd had to completely re-think my eating plan at 70miles when my body was trashed and my brain was barely able to keep coherent thoughts going, I was flying again. Can you believe it, after 90 odd miles I was hammering it, then disaster struck. My torch was getting dim, very dim, then the warning light flashed to say it was about to die completely and i had no spare and no batteries... Damn! I put the beam onto its lowest power and tripped a few times unable to see the detail of tree roots and stones but got to the 95m aid. I asked if they might have some AA batteries i could steal and to my surprise the chap pulled out a huge strip of Duracells and said "help yourself, we thought they might come in handy" I almost kissed him. Off again into the never ending darkness, every twist, turn, climb, descent for the last time, that fence at 8m, 18m, 28m... now 98m then the finish. Relief.

A huge thanks to Henk for this mad, mad race. To the helpers who were all brilliant especially the man with the batteries and to all the other runners who gave me so much encouragement on the way. 100 miles/15 000ft in 18 hours 41 minutes, 11 and a half of which were in the dark. 1st place and new course record, it couldn't have went better than that... or could it??

It's Not About The Beetroot

2010-08-20T08:47:00.000-03:00

In a whirl of banana milk and beetroot juice the resting was done and training resumed. The next target race being UTMB meant the emphasis was going to be on hills and more hills.

My plan was to have two weeks of rest after WHW race and then a 5 week block of hard training and a 3 week taper. I seemed to recover really quickly from WHW this time though, so after a week I was right back into it with a good run from Kingshouse up the Buachaille along the WHW to Fort Bill and up and down the Ben, 35 miles and about 11 000 feet of climb, and a fantastic day out too!

A good solid weeks running and then I decided to do a run which I thought was very similar to UTMB in character, with lots of accumulated climb, even though it obviously lacked the long climbs of the Alps, two loops of the Pentland Skyline race route. I ran with Lucy and John, who is training for TDS again, and they dragged me round the first loop before leaving me to run the 2nd on my own, lightweights!

The Clyde Stride race was up the next weekend and my plan was to run a good weeks mileage and try and have a solid race at the end of it. I racked up about 65 miles by race day and not surprisingly had to really tough it out towards the end, the flat route was a bit of a shock to the system too! On Sunday I rounded off the week with another round of the Pentland Skyline with Oscar, who ran the entire route in his Vibram 6 fingers (...he's from Dundee).

Next up was a support run on Peter's Ramsay Round. What a brilliant adventure this was, I can see why it has the reputation it has as being one of the toughest hill running challenges out there, I also realised how rusty I am at the hill running with all of this easy trail stuff i've been doing!

My 5th week of UTMB training and again I was back for a double Pentland Skyline, running the first one with John and then managing negative splits on the 2nd after the weather got nasty and I got a good soaking as I pushed the pace to get back to the shelter of the car.

I had planned to put in another good week but I started to develop a niggle in my calf, which isn't surprising I suppose after 400+ miles and 105 000 feet of climb in 5 weeks! Unfortunately the niggle progressed to the point where I have had to reduce the running to virtually nil over the last fortnight and have been cycling like a madman, and having Tommy work his magic to try and get me going again, meaning all that training seems such a long time ago.
Will I be the most finely tapered man on the start-line of UTMB or will I be just too well rested for this monster challenge??

Who cares, it's going to be great fun!!

West Highland Way Race 2010

2010-07-09T11:57:00.000-03:00

Boom or bust. That's how I felt this one was going to go. As I drove the last few miles into Milngavie with a cracker of an orange sunset, Iron Maiden's classic "A Matter of Life and Death" album drowning out any sense of nervousness and apprehension and replacing it with an overwhelming desire to shout out the window "scream for me Milngavie...!!" and run through Mugdock Park playing air guitar. Instead I went straight to race registration, got all my bits and pieces, said hello to all the familiar faces then got back to my support team, who had parked in a nice quiet spot away from all the bustle of the car park.
I was trying to stay "in the moment" and not think about the race and how it would pan out. All my thinking had been done earlier. The plan was to do my own thing and not get caught up in anyone elses race, stay in touch with the leaders until Glencoe (70 miles) then give it all I had. I wanted to win this year after coming so close last year, I didn't care about times, splits or anything else it was the result that mattered.

Ready to go

This was my 6th year in a row on the start line of this fantastic race. Of all the race starts I've been to this one has an atmosphere which is totally unique, maybe it's just me but the sense of excitement, anticipation and nervousness at that Milngavie underpass on a warm June night is like no other. The start hooter went off and around 150 pairs of feet made for Fort Bill.
I chatted for a bit with Kate as we ran the first few miles finding ourselves at the front after a couple of runners took the wrong turn and were shouted back. They came flying past to regain the lead and this seemed to jolt quite a number of runners into action as 4 or 5 more flew past in the darkness and others started to jostle for position. As I watched the torchlights disappear ahead into the night the thoughts flashed through my mind, should I be chasing? Am I letting them run off into the distance leaving me behind? Patience is the key here. Think about how fast I will be running in 90 miles time. Save it for later.
Running through the Drymen Checkpoint (12 miles) I knew I was about 4 minutes down on last year but I felt like I was running the right pace and what's 4 mins this early on, I told myself. Uncertainty was still eating away at my thoughts. Over Conic Hill passing Thomas earlier on, we chatted briefly and I ran on really hoping he would get the finish this year after two heartbreaking DNF's. The view from the top of Conic looking up Loch Lomond was inspiring and I had to remind myself to take the steep descent easy, trashed quads at this point wouldn't be a good idea!
I ran through the car park at Balmaha (20 miles) with lots of support teams cheering and clapping and met Mark and Neil, my first half support guys, who refilled my bumbag and gave me my WHW staple of mashed tatties and ketchup. Still 4 mins down on pace meant I was now running the same pace as last year without thinking about it. Still early days I told myself.
I ran the short section to the bottom of the climb up to Craigie Fort then power hiked the steep climb to the top, where Alan and Stan sent me on my way smiling with their words of "encouragement"! On to Rowardennan (27 miles) I kept telling myself to run conservatively and keep eating small amounts regularly as I had been right from the start. I met Mark and Neil again and stuffed as much mashed tatties as i could into me, reloaded my bumbag and off up the lochside knowing I wouldn't see them again for a good few hours and when I did things would be starting to bite ...and they wouldn't just be the midgies!
I hadn't been concerning myself with my splits or where the runners in front or behind were up until now, but I was starting to think maybe I was running too easy, losing ground and needed to step it up a bit. A few more miles and I was still keeping the easy pace when I looked behind and saw someone gaining on me, I was going to be passed here if I didn't up a gear, so time to start pushing! I never saw that runner again but he certainly gave me a shot of adreneline that I needed. I was running hard now thinking about catching up with the two Americans in front and as the Inversnaid checkpoint came into view I saw them both collecting their dropbags and ran down to catch them. I quickly devoured my bag of mashed tatties and ketchup, which got me some strange looks, grabbed a full bottle of juice and chased after the Americans. I soon caught up with them and we ran together chatting for a bit then they let me go ahead and I knew it was just Craig Stewart in front but I wasn't sure how far.
I came into Beinglas still grinning at Keith and George's "beetroot rules" sign on the door of the Doune Bothy! I was well ahead of schedule after having ran really well up the lochside and I was sure I'd put some distance between me and the Americans, hoping that might be the last I would see of them. There were quite a few people around all with midgie nets on making them unidentifiable so I stopped and looked around expecting Mark or Neil to appear then someone asked if I had a drop bag. I said no, and that I was meeting my support but it looks like they're not here. Someone offered me a biscuit which I took and someone else ran off to look for Mark and Neil in the car park. Should I run on or wait?? Save myself a few minutes and run on without my food and sports drink or wait here and lose those hard fought minutes I'd gained on the guys behind?? I walked on a bit then back again as Mark appeared sprinting towards me, they quickly got me sorted out and off I went. It was frustrating but I was about 20mins quicker than had been expected so it was just one of those things, I ran on and after a mile or two glanced back to see a figure behind in hot pursuit. The runner behind was Mark Godale an American who had come over especially to run the race and a guy with an impressive running CV which until recently included the U.S 24 hour record of 162 miles. This guy knew his stuff! A few more miles, though and we'd be onto the hilly section above Crianlarich a good push up there might give me some space.
I ran this section feeling really strong and pushed the descent down to the road really hard, I felt like I was into the "ultra zone" now and could keep this going forever. As I crossed the bridge and ran hard on the flat section towards the 50mile checkpoint at Auchtertyre Farm I felt I must have gained some distance on Mark and was quite dismayed when I looked over my shoulder to see him running hard not far behind. Maybe this guy could run hills as well I thought!
Auchtertyre was my crew change-over, Ken and Robbie took over from Mark and Neil and told me I was only a few minutes behind Craig and he wasn't looking too good. Wow, I thought, this wasn't in the plan. Did I want to catch him so early and then be the hunted for the rest of the race? Run my own race, that was the plan so I pushed on feeling comfortable and passed Craig just after the road crossing at Tyndrum. He was walking at that point, we chatted breifly and I ran on planning to step up the pace again. There was a strong headwind now but I decided to stick with the plan. This section is pretty flat and running hard here can gain you vital minutes so after the initial undulating section then under the railway line I blasted it into Bridge of Orchy not looking behind at all because if those guys were still keeping up, quite frankly, I didn't want to know!
More food at the checkpoint then into the short climb over to Inveroran. As I headed up into the forest I looked back and there was Mark still behind. I worked hard over this section and was further inspired by Murdo the Magnificent standing waving like a madman on top of the hill with the Saltire flag flying against the blue sky. He gave me a jelly baby and I ran hard down to the road briefly looking up to see Mark starting the descent.

Pic courtesy of Murdo the Magnificent
There was a huge cheer from all the people sitting outside the hotel in the sunshine as I passed, now was the time to hit it hard. I felt strong and in the groove, even with this wind. I thought if I was Mark I'd sit on the shoulder of the local guy, let him do the work then go for it with a few miles to go. I really needed to lose him quick. I hit the road at full speed, ran hard for the mile or so to Forest Lodge, quickly ate some food then blasted onto the trail over Rannoch Moor. I felt brilliant here, running at full tilt, hammering all the little downs and pushing hard on the ups imagining myself eating up the route like some sort of little Pac-Man computer game. Push, push, push. Don't ease off one bit and no looking behind. The real race starts at Glencoe.
I ran into the car park at the Glencoe checkpoint (70miles) so early that Ken and Robbie were still eating lunch and had to sprint down to meet me, I wasn't so keen on food now and had to force a little down, I was still drinking sports drink all the time and eating sweets so I could manage on this in the meantime.
Hard running to Altnafaedh and a little food from my crew at the bottom of the Devils Staircase, then a strong run/walk got me to the top in around 10 minutes. Alan Young was there taking pictures and a large crowd of walkers gave me a great big cheer as I passed sending me hurtling down the other side at full speed after a quick glance behind to see no-one in sight for the first time, I was getting some space!
This was the real high point in my race, I was flying here and felt like I could go on forever. I remembered running the descent into Kinlochleven really hard last year, so as I hit the smooth track I blasted down glancing at my watch and aiming to be at the checkpoint within 15 minutes. As I got lower down and out of the wind I noticed how warm it was, the back of my top was soaking with sweat and it was lashing off me now. I got into the checkpoint (81 miles) and was quickly weighed and sent on my way with encouragement from Caroline and Neil who were manning the aid station. Ken, Robbie and Adrian walked with me trying to get me to eat a bit more but I had it fixed in my mind that I could keep going with a squirt of honey and not much else thus gaining 10 minutes on last year when I stopped here for a good feed. Someone said they thought I had a 35 minute lead and I was also starting to think a sub 16 hour finish was possible so I ran on and started the climb out of Kinlochleven.
As I got to the track at the top of the climb I gulped back the last of my drink, the heat was noticable here with it being sheltered from the wind and I ran on looking for a stream to get some water. I didn't really care whether I filled up from the dirtiest of trickles now as I was so thirsty and before any nastyness could affect my stomach I'd be finished anyway, but it was so dry there was nothing at all. Meanwhile I was getting low on energy so I ate a gel and eventually found a stream and climbed down to fill up. I gulped back a full bottle, filled it again and ran on. My pace was slowing and my stomach was sloshing, the wheels were coming off I thought. Flashes of the 2005 race went through my mind, when Paddy Jumelle had a huge lead only to blow up and lose it. Would I be Jan Alberted? Passed in Glen Nevis with only a few painful miles to go. Did I care? Did I really want to put myself through all this pain for some mad race? As I went through the sheep pens a mile or so from Lundavra I wanted to walk, to stop, to give up. I remembered my 4 day training run and told myself to keep any kind of meaningful run going, at least to the checkpoint. When I got to Lundavra (89 miles) I had already decided I was going to stop for 5 minutes and sort myself out. As I sat with my head in my hands Ken and Robbie were really concerned as I said I just needed to stop for 5 then I'll be ok. I think I ate a small amount of food, but I knew finishing this was all in my mind nothing to do with my legs or my stomach, my fuel would come from my head, my thoughts, if I could sort that out I would do it. How was I going to achieve it? The same way I got this far, break it down into small parts and take each part as it comes, #1 from here to the spooky woods #2 through the woods to the track #3 down the track to the junction #4 the junction to Braveheart car park #5 along the road to the finish. Easy. Go.
I shuffled out of Lundavra, a shuffle became a jog and a jog a run, I took each small section at a time and as I approached Braveheart I knew I had done it and had a mixture of joy and sadness thinking about how strange it would be not to see Dario at the finish. Minutes later I thumped the doors of the leisure centre, supped whisky from the quaich, said my "never agains" and collapsed on the bench at the finish after 16 hours and 36 minutes of running and reflected on what had been the most fantastic of days.

Finished!

I'd just like to say a big thanks to my support, Mark, Neil, Ken and Robbie. To the race committee for the brilliant job they did in making the whole thing happen and to all the volounteers and supporters who gave me masses of encouragement on the day. The thing that made it all the more special was the spirit of the race, the camaraderie between the runners, the support crews and all the people out on the Way cheering and supporting. That's what sets this race apart from the others.

I'm Not A Runner, I'm A Very Naughty Boy

2010-04-26T18:46:00.000-03:00

Well I didn't half blow that one!

There's nothing like that horrible feeling of grinding to a halt halfway up Loch Lomond.

Like a novice i stuck two fingers up to a mega miles training week only 2 weeks ago and stepped on the gas just before Balmaha, racing with Thomas the crazy German who was running a blinder. About 5 miles later I discovered the tank was empty. By the time i got to Rowardennan (27 miles) the gods of the quads had declared "let there be mush" and my quads were mush. I hastily made some foot repairs at the checkpoint, tried to revive myself with the contents of my drop bag and pushed on determined to work through the bad patch. I was glad to see the back of the very runnable first half of the race and felt sure that i could click into my rythmn on the rougher sections of Loch Lomondside but it wasn't to be. I was struggling to keep up with some of the supervets from the earlier start and by the time I reached Inversnaid (34 miles) i had decided to jog it in to Beinglas and call it a day. It wasn't a day for toughing it out, i've done plenty of that over the last few weeks, and i didn't want to risk pushing on to possible injury either.

In the back of my mind i think i knew this was going to happen and the reasons are pretty obvious, so no point in getting hung-up on it.

Apart from my DNF I really enjoyed the day, it was great to see so many friends and i even survived the pub with some dodgy weejies from Garscube and all their trophies followed by a night at the ceilidh with a subversive bloke!

Well done to everyone who ran it and thanks to Murdo and Ellen for making it possible and to those who marshalled and gave encouragement. On to the next one!

Run Like Fun

2010-04-23T12:15:00.001-03:00

Victor and I are in the car park at Milngavie station (again). I've managed to convince him this is the ultimate training run. He's going to thank me for the rest of the year (maybe even the rest of his life) for the incredible fitness benefits this one is going to bring.

A quick comparison of the weight of our rucksacks reveals Victors is about double the weight of mine, i can't believe he's not cut the end off his toothbrush, is carrying enough toothpaste to clean his teeth for a month and has enough food for us both until a week on Tuesday. He realises his mistake and promptly decides to leave his toilet bag, smoking jacket, slippers and some food behind.

I've done this before, made all these mistakes with kit and have got it down to a T.

1x sawn off toothbrush
6x slithers of toothpaste
3x dods of shower gel
1x pair of socks
1x pair of running shorts
1x w/proof jacket
1x w/proof trousers
1x spare hat
vaseline
surgical tape
pen knife
cash/credit card
phone
1x copy of "The Lore of Running" for technical reference (had you there)
Enough food/drink to last to the next shop/pub

This is going to get us up the West Highland Way and back over 4 days, stopping at Tyndrum, Fort William, back to Tyndrum then to Milngavie.

It poured with rain all the way to Drymen and as we discussed how we could tell by the cloud formations, wind direction and using our highly tuned sense of nature and the outdoors that the rain was on for the day it cleared up and the sun came out. Magic! Victor even took his shirt off to try and scare off the hoards of walkers out for the Easter break. It didn't work though. We had such fun tippy-toeing along behind them, shouting "good morning" and watching them almost crumple in fright under the weight of all that kit they were lugging to Conic Hill base camp ready for the final ascent. Some of them were even doing it without oxygen.

We made our first pit stop at Rowardennen, it was much warmer weather than we were used to so we quickly chugged a Coke and inhaled a scone and set off up the loch. The recent snow had also made the paths as wet and muddy as i'd ever seen them which made the going underfoot a bit harder, but the sun was warm, the sky blue and it was a pleasure to be out there. When i was up, Victor was down and vice versa so between us we managed a nice steady pace up to Tyndrum and into the Real Food cafe for fish cake suppers. By this time it had become quite overcast and was a good bit cooler so we shivered as we ate quickly then after a quick shop at the garage for breakfast we reached the By The Way hostel. What a welcome we got there too! The couple who were managing it were quite taken with our adventure and we chatted for a while then shower, more food and bed. 53 miles done.

Apart from the guy on the bottom bunk watching films on his laptop till late and Victor telling him to put it off or die, i had a good nights sleep (managing not to fall out of the top bunk, seriously its dangerous up there especially when you thrash about in your sleep like i do). We awoke to a torrential downpour of the stair-rod variety, had some porridge whilst listening to the walkers talking about changes of plan and how it was "life threatening to go out in that" and "its best to have a rest day" so got out and running before they started to convince us. As always it was ok once we got going but stopping wasn't an option because we got very cold very quickly, which also made us run a bit harder than we should have, so when we saw the Kingshouse hotel in the distance we had no hesitation in agreeing on a food stop for 20 minutes. 30+ minutes later we left puddles on the floor and wet seats in the posh bar as we went through the ritual 5 mins of pain, working the stiffness out of the legs and getting back into the long-distance running rythmn.
The rain carried on relentlessly as we ran down into Kinlochleven and up over the Lairigmor with the wind picking up quite ominously, that was the last thing we wanted for the journey back. By the time we got to Morrisons in the Fort we had taken on the homeless jakey look; soaking wet, unshaven, smelly and snottery as we squelched, stiff-legged around the aisles trying to work out if we craved pasta, potatoes or crisps or all three. 42 miles done.

I must admit as we ran into Fort William my legs were trashed, every step was pain and the thought of turning around and repeating those 2 days was really daunting. That's the start of the mind games. Your brain is telling you it's not sensible to keep going, all these tweaks and niggles are surely going to become tears and twangs, it's not sensible to continue without support in these conditions, in this condition. But it is. That's the whole point. You've got to go beyond, to show yourself its possible to push further than you think, in the words of the great metal songsmith and slayer of dragons Ronnie James Dio, "we're a ship without a storm..." and a storm is what we seek to toughen ourselves up for the mighty hurricane of the West Highland Way Race.

Sitting at breakfast in the b&b after an uncomfortable nights sleep tossing and turning with my knees, hips and quads waking me up throbbing in pain, Victor was glazing over as i told him (yet again) how we would emerge back in Milngavie as strong as the Mighty Thor. I think he had just had enough of running in the pishing rain and going down that bloody track again and anyway 95 miles in 2 days was good enough going without having to do it all again and listen to some nut talking about slaying dragons in his head...

So i made a major concession. Will it impact on me psychologically as i stare down the demons who have come to sabotage my dreams, to steal my spirit and send me a slavering, bonking wreck to the leisure centre to think again?? Maybe.

I had agreed to let Flora, our b and b owner give us a lift to the Braveheart car park to avoid running the 2 miles of pavement hell in Fort Bill. It was lashing with rain as we headed towards Lundavra, the path had now become a river and i was really starting to think this was a bit dodgy. If you'd tipped a bucket of water over my head i wouldn't have been any wetter and it was really cold too. We were glad to get into the Copie in Kinlochleven for a brief heat and some bits of food. As we sheltered amongst the shopping trolleys slurping down chocolate milk we came up with a brilliant idea for a race. Get this, The West Highland Way 100 (ish) start in Fort Bill, climb the Ben then down to Milngavie. About 19 000+ feet of ascent and imagine running those gnarly boulders on the loch-side with almost 70 miles in the legs then all that runnable stuff from Drymen to the finish to really challenge you, and of course the cheering crowds as you near the finish, Ultra Tour Du Milngavie(UTMG) anybody??

Renewed with the mystical powers of flavoured milk we galloped up the climb from Kinlochleven and back down to Kingshouse, wading rivers which hadn't existed on the way up and deciding to keep running all the way to Tyndrum in case we stopped and lost the will to start again. Rannoch Moor was murder and i was bonking by Inveroran so grabbed a can of Coke at the hotel which saw me through to Tyndrum. We were a sorry state when we reached the bunkhouse, so much so that when we arrived the nice couple from the other night made us tea and biscuits and told us stories about boy scout walkers wading through water up to their waists on the lochside the flooding was so bad. It was at this point that Victor decided he'd had enough, he was going to run the 5 miles down to Crianlarich then get the bus or train from there. I tried to convince him that he'd be ok once he got going but i knew it was his decision and wouldnt be a good idea to twist his arm into doing something that might end in injury or something. 42 miles done.

I was up at 5.30am and wide awake eating scones and jam and trying to remove an ingrown toenail with my penknife having had another uncomfortable nights tossing and turning. Victor woke up in a completely different frame of mind not quite ready for his day of leisure yet, as i contemplated staring the demons and dragons in the eye. I had to kick his butt out the door by 6.30am because i knew i had a good 12+ hours in front of me and after what was now 10 minutes or so of coaxing the stiffness out of the legs we ran well through Auchtertyre Farm, over the roller coaster and Victor down to the road in Crianlarich as i carried on to Beinglas. I stopped to buy some biscuits and a coffee then it was head down and onto the lochside. That jumble of rocks was made even more challenging because it had all become so slippery and my legs seemed to be lagging a few seconds behind my brain but absorbing as it was it took my mind off things until i emerged at Inversnaid in the sunshine, feeling like Robinson Crusoe washed up on a desert island after floating about in the ocean for a week. I didn't want to frighten the tourists so kept going passing more walkers now as the nicer weather brought them back out. Soon i was at Rowardennen again and had been craving Coke and a scone and as i waited at the bar i felt a tap on my shoulder, it was a walker i had met a few days previously "you made it back!" he said and we chatted a bit then i sat in the sun, drank my Coke and resolved to not stop until The Beech Tree 20 miles further on and give myself 15 minutes to refuel then on to Milngavie, always good to have a plan!
I was nicely into my stride as i rounded a corner and came face to face with Peter, one of my clubmates on a training run to Beinglas. It was good to chat and it gave me a big lift to see a familiar face. I pushed on through heavy showers of rain then warm sunshine, through Balmaha, over Conic Hill and past Drymen fighting demons all the way to the Beech Tree. 15 minutes was the deal and i was off again along those torturous cycle paths thinking about William Sichel and his 1000 mile run and how this was childs play in comparison, only 190 miles in 4 days, i should be fresh as a daisy! I wasn't though as i trundled into Milngavie, dragons slayed and demons drowned in chocolate milk.

I couldn't resist rounding the weeks mileage up to 200 by jogging round the Edinburgh Parkrun 5k a few days later and now just over 2 weeks later i'm wondering how this is going to effect my run at this weekends Highland Fling?? Only one way to find out...

How Late It Was, How Late - The Hardmoors 55

2010-04-20T08:26:00.000-03:00

I thought I'd better post this before the Fling and all the other races are on top of me! It's a bit of a hasty report that I posted on the club forum after the race but it does the job. I was meaning to add a bit more detail to it but ended up running loads of miles instead...

This was the first running of the Hardmoors 55 race, a counter in the Runfurther UK Ultra series. A late change to the course to avoid a few extra road crossings meant it was only 54 miles, but a tough and eventful 54 miles it turned out to be.

The route follows the first half of The 110 mile Cleveland Way in the North Yorks National Park from Helmsley to Guisborough and has about 9000 feet of ascent thrown in.

Not really knowing the route at all, I decided to stick with a local runner who set off like a rocket at a much faster pace than I felt comfortable with. This tactic seemed to be working out ok until the first main checkpoint at 22 miles when I lost sight of him and took a wrong turning, losing about 10 mins before getting back on track again. By 25 miles I was starting to really feel the effects of the faster pace and also running on the exposed moors in strong winds and driving rain was taking its toll.

I decided to ease off the pace and take it nice and steady to the next checkpoint at 42 miles then get some food in me and hammer the pace to the finish. By the time I reached the village hall at Kildale (42 miles) I needed food quickly and devoured my Tuc biscuits and coke, grabbed some fruit pastilles and headed back out determined to make up some lost places.

I ran hard up to Captain Cooks monument seeing no-one then headed for the steep climb up Roseberry Topping which was a spur off the main route so I might see some of the runners ahead of me as the route returns back on itself. Sure enough when I got to the turn the leader came through the gate closely followed by the 2nd placed runner and as I approached the top of the hill 3rd place came running down towards me. I was only a few minutes behind him and when I got back to the gate checked my watch to see I was about 18 minutes behind the first two. Time to blast to the finish I thought!

After a mile or so I caught the 3rd placed runner but he wasn't keen on giving up his place easily so we battled through the slippy, muddy track for a few minutes before I managed to lose him on the winding forest trail down to Guisborough. After what seemed an age I reached the disused railway which meant I was a mile from the finish and after glancing over my shoulder too many times to see if I was being caught I arrived at the rugby club finish and crashed through the door. Hang on! No signs of a race finish here, just guys in blazers looking at me a bit strangely! I went back outside and caught sight of a course marker further down the path so I ran towards it then saw the flags marking the finish at the CRICKET club! Ahhh yes! Well I managed to finish in 3rd place in 9 hours 11 mins so was delighted with that.

The stormy weather meant only 41 of about 75 starters finished the race, a thoroughly enjoyable route and it's got me thinking about the full 110 mile race next year...!!

The View From Benarty

2010-03-15T20:07:00.002-03:00

Yesterday at about 6pm I stood on Benarty Hill, a hand on the stone pillar at the summit. Looking north I could see Bishops Hill and the Lomonds, in the distance the snowy southern-most Cairngorms, west the Ochils and south across the Forth to the Pentlands. It was a pity it wasn't clear enough to see Ben Lomond above the West Highland Way because it would have been all of my most recent playgrounds, all there to see, in the setting early spring sun.

The first big adventure weekend was mid-January when the temperatures were dropping to around -15 and nearly everywhere had a good covering of snow. I thought it would be a great idea to run a two day-er from Milngavie up to Doune Bothy, stay the night and run back next day. And brilliant it was! Luckily Lucy believed my stories about how it would be great fun and agreed to go with me (they were all true of course) and we ran, slipped, skidded and enjoyed some of the most spectacular views you could get on the run. An early start back down the trail again the next morning after a great night blowing on the 'fire' and a faint memory of a too hot Pot Noodle in my rumbling belly. It was a tough weekends running when my nail-shoes ceased to be effective after about 20 miles of the 75 which made it much more interesting chasing Lucy with her new fangled "snow-grip-grab do-da's" on her shoes (too much like performance enhancers for a purist like me...).

As nice as it is to go further afield and run it's also quite satisfying to run from the door. It's almost like getting something for free in a way. So, I worked out a route from deepest, darkest Ballingry which had only just emerged from the receding ice sheet, over the Lomonds to Falkland then back again in a big scenic circle. I Memory Mapped it (guaranteed it was going to be wrong then...!) and set off for what was to be about 30 miles and 6500' of up-ness. After a big circuit of the mountains of Fife and Perthshire I arrived on top of Bishops Hill, checked my gps and realised I had underestimated my distance slightly, which was confirmed when my wee jelly legs eventually shuffled back home having consumed a good 34 miles. Not a disaster but also not good when you've scheduled a 30 miler the next day with two speedsters who go by the nick-names of Sonic and the Crazy German!

So, about 16 hours later I'm standing in Drymen with Sonic and CG and we're off running up the West Highland Way to Beinglas farm. There was some sort of very precise heart rate monitor training going on which I couldn't understand. My heart rate monitor is my nose which starts to run and blow bubbles when everything is going swimmingly, then my stomach which starts to push its contents towards my throat when I reach threshold pace and my legs which go all rubbery when I reach anoraknerobic pace. We all happily trotted up the way, me blowing bubbles and the boys beep-beeping until the Crazy German decide he had had it with the hrm and hit the gas. Us being the non-competitive types that we are took that as game-on and started elbowing each other out of the way because no-one wanted the disgrace of being the hairy kipper at Beinglas.

A much easier week followed and was rounded off with the Forfar multi-terrain half marathon. I really enjoyed this race last year and remembered all the talk about the man-eating bog at mile 8 which turned out to be very tame, so I took it with a big pinch of salt when this was what all the talk was about again at the start. Sure enough at mile 8ish we headed under a bridge and through a big puddle... all that fuss, eh!... then as I rounded the corner I began to understand as I waded up to my thighs in the most freeeezing water for about 400 metres. In fact my feet took about another mile before I could get any feeling back into them, yes this is my kind of half marathon, not one for pb's though. Once back at the finish I took my customery 10 minute dip in Forfar Loch to cool my quads, still burning from their re-entry into Forfar from the tattie fields of outer space (it's where they grow the spuds for Smash, it is!... fact).

After a week of slightly bigger mileage it was time for some fun at the Carnethy 5. There was a good turn-out of Carnegies to tackle the 6 mile 2400' ish course and I set out at jelly leg pace to try to reach the bottle neck at the gate before it got too choked up. I kept up a pretty good pace the whole race considering and finished up strong enough with a sprint through the bog trying (and failing) to hold off Bruce Smith from Carnethy. I was pleased with 59 mins odd though, still under the hour! The hill races seem to fit in really well with training for ultras, almost like tempo sessions. I seem to be able to run long the next day without much problem which is just as well...

The next morning, after about 6 different changes in route going from one end of the country to the other because of the amount of snow, I met with Lucy and Victor ( the holder of the Dava Way race record (he's never claimed it but i'm giving him it because its a laugh) and, ok, it's only been run once but a records a record...) who will now be known as Dava Man, a new super-hero from the Grampians. So, Lucy, Dava Man and I set off from Glenmore Lodge to run to Forres mostly on the Speyside and Dava Ways, about 40 miles each day. I really felt Carnethy in my legs and was glad of all the snow on the ground forcing the other two speedsters to run at my slow pace. At one point we had to do a bit of cross country and climb a banking onto a nearby road because the trail became impassable with deep snow and fallen trees but we soon picked it up again and all agreed it was a really cracking, scenic run. Just as well because we were doing it in reverse the next day!

That 80 mile weekend was enough to give me a 130 mile week, my biggest mileage for a while and I felt stong doing some decent days after that of 10, 17, 12 and 15 miles but then picked up a cold which floored me for the whole of the next week. At the same time, without doing any running, I seemed to pick up a niggle in my back which worsened over a day or two to the point where I was struggling to sit, stand or walk without excruciating pain. My cold went but the back pain didn't so I decided after 6 days of no running to go out and try and do a few miles. I ground out a painful 6 miles and as it hadn't got any better or worse the next day I just kept running. The pain and stiffness hung around for about a week or so, easing with some treatment from Tommy, and I still managed to edge over 100 miles for the week finishing up with the short, sharp Bishops Hill race (3miles 1500' ish). I had a good climb but as soon as I started on the descent my back just jammed up so, with the 7 mile run home over Benarty still to come, I just jogged down to the finish enjoying the run all the same.

Tommys back-magic treatments seem to have done the trick and I managed a good, solid 85 miles last week with a spectacular run/wade through deep snow in the winter wonderland that is the Ochils at the moment. I was a bit caught out by the knee deep snow but it was a good strength session in the end and the scenery was mind-blowing!

And so, yesterday at the top of Benarty with another 20 miler under my belt I stood enjoying the view and thinking about next week and my first ultra of the year at the Hardmoors 55 (if I get the entry form in on time, oops). With a body full of niggling muscles and a head full of nagging doubts, the customery week-before-the-race feeling, I wouldn't have it any other way.

How To Do Stuff: Part II

2010-01-16T17:11:00.001-03:00

Next in the How To Do Stuff series, how to turn an ultra-marathon into a pop video...

Hard As Nails

2010-01-06T10:17:00.004-03:00

Welcome to the new Sunday Adventure Club "How To Do Stuff" feature!

Now that the great chocolate orange festival is over and as we gear up for the great chocolate egg festival I thought I'd share with you some ideas on how to do stuff. This tip is going to get you out running again in the big freezer, before you know it you'll be back out pounding the pavement, 6 minute mile-ing past old biddies clinging on to railings who will stare in wonder as they make another epic journey to the shops for Pandrops.

You could go out and buy some running "crampons" some of which have been reviewed by Pete here but they'll set you back a few quid. The inspiration for this came from this Screw Shoe blog. Problem was when I went to B&Q (other hardware stores that provide a bag to get your bits home are also available...) I couldn't find sheet metal screws or anyone who had heard of them. So, I came home, tried a few alternatives and found that this worked best.

You will need : 1 x hammer, a couple of dozen carpet tacks approx 18mm long, 1 x old pair of running shoes (pref. without "air" soles as this could cause problems!)

A(t) tack

Step 1:

Pick up shoe and turn it upside down, then hold hammer in a manly fashion and hammer the nails in at an angle until only the nail head, at an angle, is sticking out. It's best to vary the angle so you grip in different directions, so nail some aiming towards the front of the shoe and some towards the back.

Step 2:

Make sure none of the nails are going through into the shoe as this might slow you down a bit. If they are then pull them out and hammer back in at more of an angle.

Step 3:

Find some ice and have a speed session!

I ran in mine for an hour and a half last night and did wonder about being able to feel them through the bottom of the shoe but had no problem. I stuck like glue to the hard packed snow and ice and even considered running over frozen-up Loch Ore last night for the ultimate test... best not try that.

There you go then, get out and get sprinting!

Next up in the series of "How To Do Stuff"... How to make your own grit when you've spent all your money on council tax... How to make a snowplough out of the empty grit box at the end of your street...How to make gas... Stay tuned...

Backwards and Forwards

2010-01-03T21:54:00.001-03:00

2009. It's been and gone. Another year down, lots of things done well, not so well and not at all. But if we did all the stuff then there'd be nothing left for 2010, so lets not get all in a rush.

Most of the adventures of 2009 are in this blog so if you feel inclined take a look back through the archives and you can see all the details. In short, I ran and ran and ran then I stopped ate biscuits, mashed tatties and washed it all down with flat Coke then ran more. Sometimes, shortly afterwards, I'd throw it all up again but mostly I didn't. Which was nice.

My favourite times were all had on the West Highland Way, in training and in racing. The chippy run in April was special, running from Milngavie to Fort William and back in four days (missing out a teenie bit, so unfinished business...) eating all sorts of high carb junk food, er sorry local delicacies on the way. Then the race itself, well I don't need to say anymore, simply my finest 16 and a half hours of running and events afterwards make the memories even more special.

Nothing else really mattered after June. I lost a bit of hunger after that but thats just natural, and I struggled a bit with recovery but I've learnt a lot from that. A lot of people have asked me how I did that WHW, to be honest there wasn't any one thing, more a combination of things, for me it's lots of racing and lots of training miles, I don't believe there's any other way to run long races than to put in the miles in training. That's just me though, and therein lies the key, I found what works for me. It is more complicated than that, I do realise, but that's what keeps this sport alive for me, the constant quest for answers, pushing the mind and body harder in training to try and run down the answers to the next big race.

2010. What's it going to hold for me?

I've two main races planned: West Highland Way and UTMB. I'll be doing loads more though but they'll be part of the training for the biggies, a few ultras slotted in and some hill races too. Everything is going to be off road too, since I've scrapped the plan to do the Athens 24 hour, my heart just wasn't in it. I'll be doing a big challenge run possibly February/March all going to plan but I've not sorted much in the way of detail yet so I'm not telling, apart from it's a long 'un!

So, the plans are laid, I've been doing lots of running over the Christmas period, mostly in the ever-deepening snow which resulted in me coming home and eating a whole orange in a oner one night (er, yes, a chocolate one...). It's been great training, making a 12 mile run a complete epic of staggering through knee high snow drifts which is brilliant fun and a fantastic work out. I just need to start building the miles up now and getting a few races under my belt.

Thanks for all your support in 2009 and Happy New Year!

California Slideshow

2009-12-21T13:42:00.000-03:00

Make a Smilebox slideshow

Chimera 100 - The Race That DNF'd

2009-12-17T12:29:00.002-03:00

We know only too well here in Scotland that we're all at the mercy of the weather sometimes, but it's not what you expect when you go to "sunny" California! So, when the Chimera 100 was hit with a freaky rain storm it was like being back at home again.

Relaxing in the psychedelic van in some typical Californian sun

The rain started on Friday afternoon and by Saturday morning the mist was so thick at the start line that it had to be delayed until daylight as you couldn't see more than two feet in front of you with your headtorch beam.

At 6.30am we finally got going and took off at a good fast pace. The first 9 miles followed a singletrack loop and then returned past the start line and continued onto sandy "truck trails" up into the mountains. Top US runner Karl Meltzer had taken the lead and myself and Dominic Grossman were not far behind as we climbed up into the Saddleback mountains. The rain had been torrential and had soaked through my waterproof and the wind was blasting which meant it was getting difficult to maintain body heat on some of the more exposed sections. After about 15 miles my legs were getting so cold because my leggings were soaked through that I ditched them at an aid station and took the chance of running in just shorts hoping that I might be warmer that way. It was much better and by the time I got to the Trabuco Peak aid station I was feeling like I was getting into my stride, for me the weather was perfect! The aid tent was taking a battering though and I made some comment about hoping it would still be there when we passed on the way back. We continued on with Dominic disappearing out of sight for a while and when I reached the next aid station at Santiago Peak, which was about 5500 feet up, he was sitting in a chair with a blanket wrapped around him not looking too good at all. I filled my bottle, ate a small potato and grabbed a couple of gels then got straight out of there before I got too comfortable. The tent up there was taking a real battering too and I was glad when the trail became a bit more sheltered as it descended to the next aid at Maple Springs. When I got there the two girls had their hands full trying to keep the water out and the tent on the ground but did a great job in making sure I had what I needed and getting me turned around quickly. I asked how far ahead Karl was and was told about 5 minutes and that he was having problems with the cold and had had to go into one of the cars for a few minutes to get warm again. This perked me up a bit, I certainly felt the cold but felt, literally, at home in these conditions and started to think that once we got back up high again I might have a bit of an advantage.
The next section was a long descent down to Silverado Canyon and the last few miles were on a great, rocky single-track which I hammered down at a good pace, the more technical terrain taking my mind off the battering my quads were taking. I reached the aid station, had a few crisps and topped up my drink then headed on up the next section, at 45 miles, which began with 3 miles of tarmac road. I was hating this section, the road was gradually climbing up and at each corner I was expecting to see the track but it took ages to come. I was reduced to walking a few times, being so uninspired by the terrain and I wondered if I was heading into a bad patch. Soon though I was back on the trail winding up into the mountains and I was running hard again, this is more like it, I was starting to feel like I was really coming onto my game and hoping I might catch sight of Karl in front soon. Then a runner appeared coming towards me, "it's done" he shouted "the race has been called off". My heart sank, I decided to keep pushing on to the next aid station to see if it was true but a few minutes later Karl appeared with a couple of other guys and confirmed the race had been abandoned.

The Trabuco Peak aid station before and after

It was a massive disappointment to say the least but the right thing to do. It turned out that two aid stations had been destroyed by the wind and the safety of the runners could no longer be guaranteed, so that was that.

It's a strange feeling sitting here a few days later. I'm obviously disappointed but it's not like I had an injury or got sick and DNF'd, it just feels like I've got some unfinished business with a US 100 miler somewhere, sometime...

So, in finishing off I'd just like to publicly thank the organisers and all the volunteers at Chimera for looking after us and working into the night to make sure everyone was safe, hopefully I might get a chance to go back and do this race again... who knows...

A Slight Change Of Plan

2009-11-09T06:46:00.001-03:00

December's training plan is in the bin, I just couldn't resist this one it looks like a cracker!

...Ah well best laid plans and all that...

24 Hour Training Plan

2009-10-29T20:30:00.004-03:00

HERE is my freshly written training plan for Athens 24 hour race next March.

It is based on the training I did for the West Highland Way race this year and I've tried to incorporate the following into the plan-

a lot of flat, steady paced running (race specific)
back to back long runs to build endurance
weekly fast/rep. sessions but no more than 90% intensity(use HRM to keep check)
train to handle the steady pounding soreness/ stiffness which flat running causes
cross-training to supplement the running and strengthen supporting muscles.

I've planned it in 4 cycles with 4 weeks in each cycle then a taper in weeks 17,18 and 19. Most of the time week 1 in the cycle is a recovery week, weeks 2 and 3 medium mileage weeks and week 4 a high mileage week. The only exception to this is on the 4th cycle where weeks 1 and 2 are 50 mile weeks to allow for the Draycote Water race and not risk overload with only 5 weeks to go before the 24 hour.

When I put the WHW training plan into action work and life came into play, races were slotted in here and there and the actual training was quite different to the plan but I stuck to the general principles so I anticipate the same happening here (also I've a few adventures in the plotting stages...) but I need a plan to work around.

So, have a look through it and leave your thoughts in the comments. I've one or two things I've thought about changing so it'll be interesting to see if anyone else thinks the same.

Training starts 16th November so you'll have to flick the calendar forward to see it.

The Best Thing About Training To Breaking Point

2009-10-21T09:11:00.003-03:00

It was a beautiful day for the Round Rotherham 50 miler, perfect conditions, and as I watched the two runners I'd been hanging on to for the last few miles disappear into the distance I decided that was it. I retired at the 25 mile checkpoint, legs feeling like someone had poured concrete into them, and decided that was my last ultra of the year.

This guy passed me in Round Rotherham

I've been stalked by the fatigue demon for the last few races and on Saturday he finally got me. He had introduced himself to me during the Devil O' the Highlands race in August and when I refused to heed his warnings he turned up at the TDS and punched me in the stomach causing me to throw up for the last hour of the race. At Keswick he decided to get serious, he wasn't going to let me eat anything and if I tried to drink, well that was going to re-appear on the pavement, causing me to grind to a halt. He even had the lap counters in on the deal!

As I approached the line to make 100 miles my lap counter appeared and said "listen mate, you've made 100 miles, look at the state of you, why not call it a day at that? There's no point in putting yourself through all that just for a few more miles!" I wasn't having that though, I had more resurrections than anything else at Keswick, by the end I think they were calling me Mandelson.
The thing is, the way to kick the fatigue demon's butt is not to fight him tooth and nail, gritting your teeth and taking the pain of race after race. The way to do it is to take a break, fool him into thinking you've given up all this knee-crippling nonsense and he'll go off and bother some other race junkie instead.

It's all in the training diary, the mistakes. Two weeks after WHW race and back into racing with the Dollar Hill Race just to mash the quads up again, then the next week I put in a 130 mile week and 30 000 feet of climbing on the UTMB route. Then next up, 7 days later, was the Ben Rinnes race on top of a 50 mile week, then the week after a 45 mile run from Linn o Dee to Aviemore and back rounded off a 90 mile week, and a week later the 42 mile Devil o the Highlands (still training through the week, remember!). Then 3 weeks later the TDS (65m +20 000 feet) and 19 days later Keswick (106m). Since I felt completely knackered by this point I had a weeks rest, then, since I'd had a weeks rest I rattled in a 90 mile week just to make sure I hadn't lost it and was fit for Rotherham! ( Just to illustrate how fatigue affects the brain, I had been on to the race organiser for the Tooting 24 hour race to try to get an entry since I hadn't performed at Keswick... just as well the race was full!!)

Every cloud has a silver lining as they say. The best thing about training to breaking point is the biscuits. A full pack of chocolate digestives in one sitting? No problem. A four pack of Kit Kat Chunkys in a oner? Easy. But, when the appetite went that's when I knew it was serious. After Rotherham's 25 miles I wasn't very hungry, didn't fancy any biscuits, in fact came home with a full packet of choccy diggies. I knew then that it all had to change (and I don't mean to those orange flavour ones, that's sacrilege).

For the next few weeks I'm not going to do much running, maybe a couple of club sessions in the week but keep them easy. The odd short race at weekends but at an enjoyable pace, and just rest up so I'm fresh for the next round of training.

I was hoping to complete 11 ultras this year, the same as last year, or even try for 12 to make it one a month on average but I'll settle for 9 and call it quits at that. That last sentence tells a story, doesn't it? I've improved a bit this year and have even been competing at the front end in races so I need to move forward and start to try competing in specific races instead of doing too many and not running as well as I'm capable. I'll still be running plenty races though, but I'll have my targets and the others will be part of the training.

So, what's next?

Three races for next year:- Athens 24 hour in March. West Highland Way in June and UTMB in September.

This time I'm going to train for the 24 hour so I've a few races planned as part of that, The Thames Trot, The Country to Capital and Draycote Water. So the adventures continue and it's going to be lots of tarmac and lots of flat running, training starts on 16th November, but for now where's those choccy diggies...??

Commonwealth Champs 24hour Update

2009-09-18T13:00:00.003-03:00

Todays 24 hour race finished with Scotland winning team bronze for men and ladies. For me it was a disaster. It was going wrong early on with a shoe change needed due to foot pain, which is an early warning of fatigue for me. At about 9pm every time I ate I threw-up and I ran through the night eating next to nothing,still throwing up and rapidly losing energy. At about 8.30am, when the team prize was in the bag, I was able to stop.

Steve and William had great runs notching up 145m+ and 130m+ respectively, I managed approx. 106m. i'm glad it's all over, I've never had such a bad experience in a race before, my legs and body are completely trashed. Even Harry Potter couldn't have put some magic into that performance.

Archie Gemmill Magic

2009-09-14T07:30:00.004-03:00

I remember Argentina '78 like it was yesterday. That ill-fated World Cup campaign when Ally MacLeod tipped his Scotland team to win the tournament and the nation believed him.

I was 9 years old at the time and it made quite an impression on me. That 3-1 defeat by Peru when we were taken apart by Cubillas, the dismal 1-1 draw with Iran, one of our star players Willie Johnston caught using performance enhancing drugs, only one game to go against 1974 runners-up Holland, who we had to beat by 3 clear goals, and it looked like the dream was well and truly over. But wee Archie Gemmill had other ideas. Having put us 2-1 up from the penalty spot Gemmill picked up the ball just outside the penalty box, jinxed past 3 flying Dutchmen and with his left foot, chipped the ball over the goalie to score one of the greatest world cup goals in history. It wasn't enough to save Scotlands world cup hopes though, and the team were on the next plane home.

The Gemmill goal was re-enacted all over the country by various 9 year olds often wearing wellies (the Brazilian kids used to learn to play football on the beaches in their bare feet, the Scottish kids played on the road in wellies) and the lesson that we might be down but we've all got some Archie Gemmill magic was learnt.

So, if you happen to be passing the 24 hour race in Fitz park in Keswick as part of the Commonwealth Championships on Thursday/Friday this week and you see a wee man in a Scotland shirt (no wellies), extracting the last ounces of magic from his legs, jinking past a few Englishmen, maybe to snatch some last minute glory, then you'll know it's the Archie Gemmill magic at work.

Tales of Random Scottish Punters

2009-09-10T08:20:00.004-03:00

It was a hot afternoon in Chamonix, the town was starting to fill up with runners, some have just arrived, others have been here for a few days spending more time hanging around town as race day draws nearer and resting becomes a priority. In one of the towns supermarkets, searching out ingredients for a healthy meal was one of the worlds most accomplished ultra-runners. The seven times winner of Western States, three times winner of Spartathlon, twice winner of Badwater Ultra and many more races was contemplating the fruit and veg when suddenly a voice next to him boomed

"MR SCOTT JUREK!!"

El Venado was startled briefly as he looked up to see the tattood, skinheaded, Cumbernauld academic Brian Mc grinning back at him.

"do I know you??" stammered Mr Jurek, with a hint of panic in his voice

"NAW, I'm just a random Scottish punter!!" declared the gallus Glesga cutieboy

In a second he was gone. The taper momentarily forgotten as he made a sprint for cover not even hanging around to work out what a "punter" might be let alone a psycho Scottish one.

The Tartan Ultra Army was in town.

Brian, Drew (qualifies as Scottish through the Grandparents rule) and myself arrived on the Saturday, had ran the last UTMB section from Vallorcine over La Flagere and back to Chamonix on the Sunday and were now trying to busy ourselves until the weekend. I had also walked the first section to Les Houches with Brian one afternoon and spent the day at the Auguille du Midi cable car station with Drew, George R, Davie and Sharon. At 3800 metres we thought that if we spent the day there it should help with acclimatisation, it was also a beautiful day for lazing in the sun with amazing views of the mountains around. I had had a few extra runs during the week too since I was doing one of the 'shorter' races (106km 6700 metres ascent) so I felt I could do a bit more than the other guys who were trying to preserve themselves for the brutality of the UTMB (softies ;0)

View from the Auguille du Midi

As we walked the guys down to the start line the atmosphere was electric, crowds of people lined the streets so much so that we had to push our way back to the flat in time to get to our vantage point on the balcony above the main street. We had front row seats as the 2300 ish runners passed below us to start their 102 mile journey around the foot of Mont Blanc.

At the start

I finished off sorting out my kit, drank a bottle of Yop! (yum) and set my alarm for 3.30am to give me time to eat and digest some breakfast for the 5am start of the TDS race then lay in bed trying in vain to sleep as the group of drummers outside did their best Cozy Powell impressions till after midnight. I handed in my bag to be taken to the finish at about 4.15am and met up with John M then we wandered to the start line, with a fine drizzle and the temperature about 12 degrees it was just like home. We hung around, then at about 4.45am the road was closed and 600+ runners crammed into the start area, the race 'theme music' was blasted out to wake us up and we were off. About 60 of us shot off at a pace much too fast and it was all a bit surreal as we left the rest of the pack behind and sprinted through the now deserted streets. This was going to be the low-key race of the weekend I thought.

I didn't bother chasing the lead pack as I was reluctant to go faster than I felt comfortable, this was a new race after all so the chances are most of these people would blow-up at some point and I didn't want to get sucked into anything daft. I ran with a group of 3 or 4 which made it easier to see with the combined torch light and it wasn't long before we reached Col de Voza and left the familiar UTMB route to descend into the valley and to the first main aid point at Saint Nicolas de Veroce. I was 44th with 2 and a half hours gone, it felt really fast at this point and even though it was quite cool I was soaked through with sweat. The pace would change now though, with the long 1350m climb up Mont Joly ahead.

It took me about an hour and 45 minutes to reach the summit, I'd had to stop and rake around in my bag for some raisins to stave off a bonk near the top, and my climbing hadn't been good... no change from recent races then. A wrong line by a group of us sent us below and past the summit so a quick double back and a short climb to the checkpoint then I was back running again along the ridge. The mist was swirling around but you could see the drop-offs going away into nothing. I tried not to look down too much and just concentrated on my footing. A good descent down to Col du Joly saw me start to overtake people, too much guddling about with poles meant that lots of them were going really slow on the descents, I just held mine and battered downhill. I tried to force a couple of biscuits down at the checkpoint but didn't really manage so instead downed some coke in my fancy big cup (you have to carry your own cup to save waste, so I thought it would be good to take a BIG one, BIG cup= BIG drink).

Next we passed the familiar Col du Bonhomme from the main UTMB race but instead of going off left along the edge of the valley we went straight ahead and down through some rough stuff and along the valley floor. Again I was taking places descending. The scenery was beautiful here as we ran along next to a small river, the feeling of remoteness was noticible too, which isn't something you normally experience in these races. The next aid point, Cormet de Roselend (51k) was more of the same, cheese, bread, dates, dry stodgy cake, ham, biscuits which I think they got from the pet shop... you name it- I couldn't stomach it. So, another BIG cup of coke and I was off again. All I was able to eat so far was a few Shot Bloks and some sweets, I'd have paid good money for some mashed tatties.

The next section was again pretty technical, with some really rough, rocky ground and then a very steep climb through a jumble of rocks to the col, the poles were a real pain here getting in the way all the time as I was trying to use my hands. Some good steady running followed then it was down past a big castle and the steep, never-ending descent to Bourg Saint Maurice. After about 45 minutes of quad hammering descending and my toes jamming into the front of my shoes on every step we made our way into the town. It was much hotter down in the valley and I was lashing with sweat and seriously thirsty. The crowds were out in the main street clapping and cheering and since I was running with the first lady the cheering was extra loud which took my mind off how bad I was feeling for a few minutes. As soon as I got into the aid tent, though, I realised I had to eat here or else. The menu was the same as before but there was some noodle soup which I tried but I just couldn't stomach it. I was wretching as I tried to force some down, so again it was a BIG cup of coke and off on my way. I felt terrible, running on empty was a timebomb waiting to go off and I knew I only had a few more miles before I crashed and burned. As I left the busy town contemplating the 1400 metre climb ahead and hit the quieter trails I started walking, I knew I'd had it, a low wall next to some houses in the shade looked so comfy so I sat down and wondered what next. My options were 1- get a taxi to Courmayeur; 2- beg a lift from a local back to the aid station; 3- lie and sleep behind the wall and hope this was all just a nightmarebut before I got a chance to decide a runner came past, Italian I think, and encouraged me to follow him. I started behind him and kept pace for a few miles but ran out of gas as the trail steepened and started walking again, it was then I decided I would finish this, as long as I could stay upright I'd walk to the finish. One of the things which kept me going was the beautiful scenery as I was climbing higher more and more of the mountains were coming into view, it was just stunning.

I started to wonder why I was missing all this scenery just to run in some race looking at my feet all the time so I sat down at the side of the trail, put my feet up on a rock and had a nibble on a sweaty dog biscuit I'd stashed in my pocket. Runners were steadily passing me now, some asking if I was ok, one or two even stopping to sit for a breath or two and take in the scenery too. This was the pattern for almost 4 hours, walk, sit, enjoy the scenery, chew on a sweaty Bonio biscuit, then eventually I reached the top. The Col Petit St-Bernard was the Italian border, the wind was blowing and it was cold. A large bonfire was roaring and spitting sparks, this wasn't a place to hang around long. I took out my scrap of paper with the race profile on and had a look, a 600 metre descent was next, then a 300m climb then a 700 m roll down the hill and a wee climb to finish, 25k in total. I'll try a jog down the descent, see what happens. I seemed to click into it here and started passing people, I knew that the race website was tracking me going through checkpoints and that people at home would be seeing my collapse so far (48th place now), so I thought maybe I could put on a bit of a resurrection here. By the time I reached La Thuile at 90k I'd taken 14 places, my target was to pull back 20 by the finish, surely that would be around where I was before my 'collapse'?

I was flying on the descent through the woods, the lights down below getting closer and closer, 17 people I'd passed now as I crossed a bridge into a car park. I could hear the music, people clapping... wait another 3 runners ahead, I sprinted hard past them to the finish... hang-on another marker... a winding street... up into the woods... I looked at my scrap of paper, oops still 4km to go, now I felt awful. My stomach heaved as I puked on the trail, run 100m, puke or dry wretch, run 100m this was the pattern for the next few km. I could see the torches behind, they will be working hard to catch me, the nutter sprinting at 102km. I was so glad to see the markings on the road in Courmayeur 500m to go, still managing not to lose any places I crossed the line in 24th place in 17 hours 16 mins then wobbled, shook, puked and was escorted to the medical area.

By the time I got back to Chamonix it was 4am, I managed about 4 hours restless sleep then was up and getting ready to watch out for the UTMB'ers coming into the finish. First in was Drew looking far too fresh for having ran for 39 odd hours, then Brian and Tommy together then George, Davie and Michael. It was really amazing to watch the finishers coming in, very emotional, if you don't want to run this one then I'd thoroughly recommend going as a spectator for what is a really positive, life-affirming experience. Big jugs of beer later on only enhanced our life-affirming positivity.

George at the finish

We never saw Scott Jurek again after that, I heard he finished 20 something ish, a bit down the field for him, with the UTMB giving him a bit of a going-over just like it did to the random Scottish punters.

Sur les Traces des Ducs de Savoie - Update

2009-08-31T17:34:00.004-03:00

I made it!

The UTMB organisation delivered yet again with this superb new race. It was like Stuc a' Chroin, The Ben, Glen Rosa, Jura and Borrowdale all rolled into one with some trail added in for good measure. The route was really quite technical with loads of rock hopping, scrambling and even some scree running. I finished 24th from 632 starters in 17 hours 16 mins.

I'll post a full report soon. Some good pics of the route HERE

Brian, me, George and Drew showing off our gilets... ooh la la!!

July and Everything After

2009-08-28T05:19:00.002-03:00

The 4th of July, appropriately enough, was the Dollar Hill Race. Two weeks after the West Highland Way Race might have been a bit soon to be attempting to re-enter the world of spit and snotters hill racing at its much faster pace than ultras but it's just along the road and what else am I to do with a sunny Saturday afternoon? It was on the climb up Kingseat Hill when i realised that cutting the grass might have been the more sensible option and on the descent down the other side, as my uncomfortable Walshes were forming a nice blister on the bottom of each foot, that I came to the conclusion it was too soon to be racing full-tilt again and my quads were really going to take their revenge. I reached the finish only a few seconds slower than last years PB but for the next few days I paid for it by putting myself back about a week in recovery terms and no amount of McVities Chocolate Digestive consumption was going to make up for it. I tried though.

A week later, having not managed much running due to my trashed quads, I was off to Chamonix. The plan was to run the UTMB route over three days with Lucy and Andy R who would join us after his race at Seirre Chevalier. Day 1 was the big day, Chamonix to Courmayour, about 50 miles with 10 000+ feet of ascent. We had to crack on at a good pace to make sure that we got there before dark and most importantly in time for food. By the time we got to Saint Gervais, about 15m into it, it was clear it was going to be a tough day for me. Lucy was bounding along bursting with energy whilst all I wanted to do was lie down somewhere and sleep. I filled up my Camelbak with water and Coke and hoped this would perk me up a bit then we headed off and promptly got lost. I was really losing the will to live at this point, wondering if I could get a bus to Courmayour or something, but there was really no option but to plod on. We ran with a French guy for a bit who got us back onto the route to Les Contamines where again I had to stop and down more Coke, strawberry milk and cake as locals and tourists stared at the two of us. The route started to get steeper and less runnable now and the more it did the more energy I seemed to get, the cake was kicking in. It was amazing to be running this part of the route in daylight since it was dark when I raced it, the scenery was incredible and it felt great to be running in such an amazing place. The long descent into Courmayour was made bearable by the thought of good pizza as we had now crossed over the border into Italy and it was a pleasant surprise to discover the place we had booked into was a lovely luxurious hotel. I don't know if they were as happy to see us though, standing in the reception area all dusty and sweaty from 14 hours of running, but it's not an understatement to say I was glad to be there!
Day 2 the plan was to run on to Champex, a shorter distance of about 25 miles but some huge climbs. It was a real treat though. I was starting to really enjoy the running now, flying down the descent from Grande Col Ferret was fantastic! We flew down the trail, with snow capped peaks and glaciers all around what better a place to be.
Day 3 began in style at the best bakery on the UTMB route. It's owned by Leon of Petite Trot a' Leon race fame and his family, and boy do they know how to put on a breakfast. After stuffing ourselves with food and coffee we were off into the final section back to Chamonix. Another day of some of Europes best trails followed with Andy and I racing each other on the descents and some lung busting climbs with the odd wrong turn thrown in for good measure. We stopped for lunch at Vallorcine, as it was getting really hot, filled up with water then it was off over La Flagere and back to Chamonix and the end of 3 fantastic days running.

Just over a week later and I was passing by Aviemore, Scotland's version of Chamonix only cheaper and with a good chippy, on the way to the Dufftown Highland Games to do the Ben Rhinnes Hill Race. This has become a bit of a habit now as I've done the race for quite a few years now, so it was good to be lining up on the games field again with the sun shining down on us for the start. It's a very runnable route for a long race so it's fast going, but this time I felt in much better shape and took 9 minutes off my PB. All that Alpine air must have done wonders!

Next up on the training plan was a run from the Linn O' Dee up the Lairig Gru to Aviemore and back. I set off a bit late in the day, about midday, and felt pretty trashed by the time I got to Aviemore so decided to get some chocolate milk, coke and crisps and let them do their magic before starting back. I sat in the warm sunshine and before I knew it I'd drunk a half litre of choco milk, half litre of Coke and some water. As i waddled off back down the road my stomach was protesting vigorously so I thought I'd better sit down on a grassy verge and let things digest, and in the warm sun I somehow fell asleep for an hour. I woke up, looked at my watch, jumped up and started running. It was a couple of miles down the track when I realised I was going the wrong way so after doubling back eventually got back in the direction of the Gru. I was thoroughly knackered when I got back to the car, the detour had meant my the distance was exactly 45 miles and it was pretty rough running in sections too but what a day to do all that in a oner! (And get a kip in too!)

As I lined up in Tyndrum 7 days later at the start of The Devil O' the Highlands Race I was a bit worried that the Gru might still be lingering in my legs but this is one of my favourite ultras so I was raring to go. The pace was fast to start so I dropped back and just got into my own groove. I ran along with Peter H a fellow Carnegie until just before Kingshouse, it was Pete's first ultra and he was going well. Then George C passed me and I knew it was game on. I chased hard past Kingshouse and planned to pass him then disappear into the distance up the Devils staircase but George was much too strong for me this time and he made the climb look easy as he passed me and I disappeared into the distance... behind him.
I still managed a good time, 6:07, but was about 12 mins slower than last year.

So, here I sit, back in Chamonix waiting for tomorrows TDS race. It's part of the UTMB only a shorter race at 106km and 6700m of climbing. I've been here since Saturday doing a bit of running and trying to get up high to acclimatise. Yesterday I spent all day up the Auguille Du Midi which is 3800m. I was joined by a few other WHW'rs George R, Drew S, Davie and Sharon, Hugh Kerr also. It's amazing how light-headed you get up there, especially when Sharon asked me if I was looking for a good time! Of course she meant in the race! Well I'd love to run well in this one but I'm wondering if I've maybe pushed it a bit far recently. Soon find out.

Saying Goodbye

2009-07-24T20:34:00.006-03:00

The West Highland Way family turned out in force yesterday to say farewell to Dario, coming from far and wide to pay their respects. It was a very emotional day, so many race tops, buffs, and T-shirts.

Every now and then I would forget for a minute and expect to see him with flourescent top and big smile, clipboard in hand, running around.

During the service his sister, Diana, asked us to pick a memory of Dario and treasure it and remember him that way. Well, mine would be from the night run we did just a couple of weeks before this years race. I ran on ahead of the group over Conic Hill and down to the car-park in Balmaha where Dario was waiting to meet us after his run. It was after 3am and my torch beam caught sight of his flourescent jacket and as soon as he recognised me he started chatting away, he laughed and said "I don't know why I'm doing this, I'm not even running the race!" then he beamed and said "yes, but it's great fun, isn't it?" And it was.

Thanks Dario

2009-07-19T09:23:00.003-03:00

The West Highland Way Race has taken over my life for the past five years so I was really sad to learn last week of the passing of Dario Melaragni who has been responsible for organising the previous ten races. He also organised this years Cateran Trail Ultra, one of the loveliest, friendliest wee races I've had the pleasure of taking part in. He even hand-drew each runners race number! That says so much about the man and his attention to detail and just how much he loved the sport of ultra-running in Scotland. They don't make them like that anymore, he'll be missed by many.

The hand-drawn race number from the Cateran Trail

Dario presenting me with my prize at this years WHW race
(pic by Alan Young)

The West Highland Way Race 2009

2009-07-08T16:52:00.004-03:00

Sitting down in Lochaber Leisure Centre with a poly bag between my feet throwing up and shivering uncontrollably as people mill around hardly batting an eyelid. I might not have looked it but I was happy. Elated in fact. Not only because I'd been thinking about the finish line and having a good puke for hours now, but also because I'd got there faster than I'd ever thought I could on my own two feet.

Team Carnegie (well most of us!) at the start

Before the race I had felt confident of knocking a good bit off my previous best of 18 hours 27 mins, I had even written out some splits for the dream time I thought I could do one day with a wind behind me and all the luck in the world on my side. Whisper it... 17 hours. But quicker than that was beyond me. Or so I thought.

I was really nervous at Milngavie as I queued for registration, seeing some familiar faces and trying to avoid getting into conversation with anyone because I felt so uptight. As I waited race director Dario came over and told me to introduce myself to the TV people because they might want a few words with me, oh no, I thought. After collecting my race number I went outside, was put in front of a camera, waffled for a few minutes about I don't know what (bound to end up on the cutting room floor...please!) and then I was changed into my kit and off to the start.

My plan was to run near the front but to be careful and not get pulled into the early miles too fast. I was running with Adrian D and Paul H and we were to stick together for about 35 miles being joined by George C and swapping places all the way, pushing each other on.

pic courtesy of Alan Young

At Balmaha (20 miles) I was feeling good but a little concerned that I was going too fast. I decided to stick with these three guys though because the pace felt comfortable. I chatted with Adrian on the way up Loch Lomondside and said to him a couple of times that I was going way too fast for my split times but I felt ok so would stick with it. Through Rowardennen at 27 miles and I still felt fresh, grabbing some mashed potatos and ketchup, a full drink bottle and some sweets and off again. The midges were terrible here, they seemed to cling to the hair on my legs and the itching was driving me nuts. The good thing was it made me run hard to try to create a breeze, I'm seriously considering shaving them for next year though! As I was running I was thinking about how bad I felt at this point last year, how I had been so close to DNFing, should I be more cautious and cool the pace or roll the dice and risk blowing it? I had to go for it, if I wasn't going to push myself to the very limit in this race then when was I? I would keep pushing myself to the very edge and if I ended up in a mess then I'd deal with that when it happened. George and myself were pretty evenly matched and Paul and Adrian are experienced runners so if the pace was ok for them then it was ok for me I thought.

I passed through Inversnaid hardly stopping to grab my drop bag, I asked how far ahead the leaders were and was told about 10 minutes. It was my clubmate Scott B and the Dutchman Jan Albert who were up-front, neither of them had completed the WHW before, so I felt ok about running comfortably behind and just trying to keep in touch.

As we went through Carmyle Cottage I noticed Adrian had dropped off the back and as I left only George was chasing behind. We swapped places a few times going over the hills above Crianlarich then as we crossed the main road I ran hard to try to open a gap but George wasn't for letting go and was only a minute or so behind at Auchtertyre.

This was my crew change here. Lucy and Ken were taking over from the night-shift of Mark and Neil who had done a great job of moving me through the checkpoints with maximum efficiency. This was a crucial point in the race for me, all the good work of the last 50 miles could be lost with one bad section, which is what has happened to me in previous races, it was really important for me to be taking on food as well and I was relying on Lucy and Ken to manage this for me. I had my first real stop of the race here, maybe about 3 minutes, to shovel in some mashed tatties and ketchup and get a refilled drinks bottle then it was on my way again. My stomach was being good to me today as well, which was really significant. I had been eating well, with a little potatoe about every hour or so and sweets and energy bars too. I had to make sure I didn't let that slip though.

As I passed through Tyndrum I grabbed a few more bits of food and hit the track for Bridge of Orchy. The last few years I've ran this section hard so I wanted to do the same again and I knew on the long stretches you can see a mile or two in front so I might catch a glimpse of the front two if I'm lucky, that would give me a real boost. The mileage was starting to bite, I was running hard and George was right on my tail so I knew I had to keep this going if I didn't want to slip back a place. As I ran toward Bridge of Orchy train station I was met by Ken and Lucy with a tray containing virtually one of every type of food I had but, you guessed it, they didn't have what I wanted. I was feeling quite sick at this point but because I had ran the last hour or so hard my energy reserves were low and I had to eat something. Lucy ran off to the car to make up a Complan drink and Ken tried to persuade me with all sorts of things but the thought of solid food just made me feel sick. I gulped down some complan at the car and took a few biscuits but ended up throwing them away, I was managing to eat Shot Bloks and Fruit Pastilles though so that would have to do.

Over the hill and down to the Inveroran Hotel and George was still right behind me so I decided to hammer the mile or so tarmac stretch and try to move out of sight of him. A quick fill up of my bag at Forest Lodge and then I ran up the track towards Rannoch Moor. This section was what I had decided beforehand would be the crux of my race. I fell apart in a big way here the last two years and was determined to stay strong this time. It was getting warm too and the sweat was pouring off me and soaking my top, I reached for my bottle as I should be drinking small amounts constantly to stop getting dehydrated. Damn! I'd forgotten to pick it up! Ok, I thought, the only way to solve this is to get to Blackrock Cottage as fast as I can and get a drink there.

I ran the climb steadily then as it levelled out I really let go, still no sign of anyone in front as the track stretched out into the distance, surely I must be getting closer running at this pace. I pushed on until I rounded the bend above Glencoe and I could see a figure moving fast in the distance, surely that was Scott in front. This gave me a massive boost when I needed it most, the hairs on my neck stood on end as I realised I was in this race now. I reached the car and had to take 3 or 4 minutes to get some food into me as Lucy told me I was catching the two in front and her and Ken sorted my bag whilst giving me words of encouragement. The role of the crew is so important at this stage in a race because I find I'm so "stripped down" physically and emotionally that any positive or negative things can have a huge effect on me. Their enthusiam was really driving me on at this point.

As I left the car and ran through the Kingshouse checkpoint my body was feeling bad, I was having to concentrate to maintain a proper stride but my mind felt so strong. I was sure I was going to catch the leaders now. As I left the short stretch of tarmac after Kingshouse, climbed the short section then arrived at the road again, Lucy and Ken met me and made sure I ate some more, gave me more positive words and off I went up the Devils Staircase. I kept a good steady pace here, powerhiking the steep climb and as I looked up I could see Scott with only a small gap between us and above him I could see Jan Albert. Game on! Scott seemed to be moving very slowly and Jan Albert not much faster, I was instantly energised. I wasn't going to do anything crazy here though, there wasn't any point in blowing myself to bits to catch up so I'd just keep it moving nice and steady. As I got to the top I could see Scott about 50 yards below so I let rip on the descent and caught him up. He was really struggling, saying he was out of it and talking very negatively. I told him he was fine it was all just peaks and troughs and told him to hang on and we'd run into Kinlochleven together. He responded and we ran strongly over the rocks and down the never ending, knee buckling descent into KLL.

Scott and I on the Lairig Mor (pic courtesy of Tim Downie)

I was really feeling it now, but the adrenaline was pumping as Ken and Lucy told me Jan Albert was only a few minutes ahead. There were also camera crews buzzing about asking questions and seeming to be fascinated by my mashed tatties and ketchup which I was ramming into my mouth and trying very hard to swallow before joining Scott for the last big climb of the race onto the Lairig Mor. I've ran this section loads of times in training so I was starting to see the end in sight now. We powered up the climb, I was battling with my stomach but I was also determined to keep the pace going with Scott for this last section. As the track flattened out as much as it does over the Lairig Mor Scott and I got into a good fast rythmn and as Jan Albert came into view it spurred us on even more. Walkers were giving us encouragement and telling us he was about 7 minutes in front as we pushed each other on but as we got about a mile from Lundavra I started to crash, badly. I told Scott to go for it and I battled with my body and my mind but I couldn't make myself go any faster.

I stumbled into Lundavra and Lucy and Ken were shouting that it was all to play for, they were only 5 minutes or so in front. I was destroyed though, I told them I was struggling and was in mid-moan when someone else pitched in and said something, I can't remember what, but it hit home and I took off my bum-bag emptied it on the ground, grabbed a bottle and ran up the hill absolutely fired-up again!

I looked at my watch as I left Lundavra, 15 hours 15 mins it said. The slowest I'd ever done this section was 1 hour 50 mins and the fastest was 1 hour 15. Sub 17 was definitely on and sub 16:30 a possibility and if I can catch up with the other two....

My quads were screaming on the downhills, the pain was getting really bad. I could still run hard on the uphills and the flats though so I just kept pushing on along the ever undulating track until I reached the new bulldozed track section then I knew all I had to do was grit my teeth and let gravity pull me down to Fort William. I remembered it took me about 30 minutes from here last year and looked at my watch, 15:55, sub 16:30 was more than on!

I passed Alan Y taking photos and he told me Jan Albert had been passed by Scott but he was only a few minutes in front, my mind had wondered elsewhere though. When I first became aware of the WHW race and started to think one day I might be able to do it, I remembered how I had looked at the race record at the time of 16:26 and thought what an amazing record that was. Could I run inside that old record?

I ran through the Braveheart car park and passed George's wife and son and gave them my bumbag, then hit the road as hard as I could run. I stared straight ahead trying to put every ounce of energy I posessed into moving myself forward, the tarmac was agony on my legs but only a matter of minutes now, the speed limit signs, the roundabout then the clapping and cheering as I reached the Leisure Centre and the sounds of the piper meaning it was all over. It was all just a blur, Lucy and Ken were there to congratulate me and hold me up, I said no to the quaich of whisky this year, I wasn't going to need that to be sick this time.

My finish time was 16:24 exactly and 3rd place.

A special thanks to my support crew of Mark and Neil on the nightshift and Lucy and Ken who took over, you made it all possible and without your help, encouragement and inspiration I couldn't have done it. Also to Dario and all the volunteers who make this race possible, all the other runners out there and the walkers who encouraged us along the way, a big thankyou to all of you.

...and next year?? I've got a new time in my head but I daren't even whisper that one....

West Highland Way Race - Update

2009-06-21T18:15:00.002-03:00

Just a quick post to say yesterdays West Highland Way Race went like a dream. I ran a time I'd never in my wildest dreams believed I could do, 16 hours 24 minutes, beating last years PB by 2hours and 3 minutes! It gives me the 4th fastest time ever!

It was an amazing race to be involved in with 95 miles of real racing, competing for places and pushing each other to the very limits. I finished in 3rd place and now need to go and lie down in a darkened room and let it all sink in..... (report to follow)

Tapering

2009-06-14T10:27:00.003-03:00

It's crap.

And probably a waste of time.

I'm hungry...again....

The Sunday Adventure Club Summer Special!!

2009-06-06T19:00:00.002-03:00

Yes, it's that time again! It's about 12 degrees outside and there's a few glimpses of sunshine between the showers... it must be summer! So, here's the action packed Summer Special, full of tales of running adventures and even including a free gift! Just put on a pair of running shoes and get out the door and you'll find your very own adventures... completely free!

It's been an action packed May, with a race every weekend. Starting with Stuc a chroin as detailed in the last post then it was up to Blairgowrie to run the Cateran Trail 23 miler. I hadn't intended to do it since the plan was to cut out the racing and save myself for the West Highland Way Race but after speaking to Pete the night before I decided to run it at training pace. That was never going to happen was it?! I did for the first 14 miles but I got sucked in and raced to the finish in 2nd place, about 3 mins quicker than my previous best as well, so I was quite pleased.

The next week it was back to suck wind at the Cateran Trail but this time to run the 55 mile ultra. I was a bit wary of this one because the terrain is really tough and there's also about 8000 feet of climbing which climaxes in a 1500 foot climb at mile 53! I started off quite conservatively and it wasn't long before the rain was lashing down making underfoot conditions rather heavy to say the least. I was running with George C for most of the race and with 7 miles to go we were neck and neck. I made the mistake of not stopping to get food out of my bag when I needed to and paid for it with the worst "crash" I've had in a race for many a year. I was absolutely destroyed for about 3 miles and by the time I got it together again George was long gone and I was checking over my shoulder regularly for the runner behind, but no-one appeared and I finished again in 2nd 13 minutes behind George. Incidentally I had given up caffeine 10 days before the race and I'm sure this affected me, I just felt like something was missing (not food of course, lol) so that was enough to send me back to my 3 pints of Starbucks a day!

My race number and lovely hand-carved trophy from the Cateran Ultra

Next up Victor and I went up to run the Cape Wrath Marathon, the most Northern marathon on the mainland UK which goes across to the uninhabited Cape Wrath peninsula and involves 2500 feet of climbing and also a boat crossing at 22 miles! It was a very enjoyable race which I ran pretty well, managing to narrowly escape hypothermia on the boat crossing and finished quite strongly in 3:08 and 3rd place. A very beautiful and spectacular setting for a race. The next day Victor and I headed down to the Cairngorms for a cracking run over to Loch A'an and up Beinn Mheadhoin, it was nice and sunny but still quite cold. We met the usual sour-faced walkers who seem to frequent the Cairngorms, I just can't work it out, there's nowhere else in Scotland where you get such looks of disgust as you pass people. Most of them obviously disapprove of us heading out into the hills in shorts and trainers and choose to show their disapproval by scowling at us as we say hello, they just don't get it do they?! I remember one day running over the Lairig Ghru with Victor and we passed a couple coming the opposite way. Victor passed them and as I approached the guy was staring at me very strangely. As I said hello he said "your mate hasn't got any manners has he?" I told him he'd need to speak to him about that and before I knew what was happening him and Victor were verging on a full-on fist-fight! I quickly ushered Victor on but the bloke kept shouting and screaming, winding himself up into a real rage, so to give him something to rage about I took the nuclear option and dropped my shorts bending over to give him the full moon greeting at which point he almost exploded and we trotted off in the other direction chortling heartily. Pity I hadn't thought about the fact that we were doing an out and back route! There was no sign of him on the way back and I think the sight of my arse would have deterred him from making anymore trouble anyway.

Running down to Loch A'an

The racing has been knocked on the head now but I've had a few decent training runs. Last Friday night I met up with some of the guys from the WHW forum and we ran a 20 mile night run from Milngavie to Drymen to prepare for the 1am start of the WHW race. It's a kind of acclimatisation process, I'm hoping my body is going to get used to running in the middle of the night but it's debatable whether it does any good or not. After the run we arrived back in Milngavie at 3.30am and I managed to drive as far as Harthill services where I had to stop for a short sleep, next thing I knew I woke up and it was 7am! Not a very pleasant nights sleep!

On the Sunday, Lucy and I went up to Glen Tilt for a run in the glorious sunshine as most of the country basked in a heatwave. It was an amazingly scenic route following the river through the glen to the suspension bridge where we cooled our feet in the water and lazed in the sun for a while before running the 11 miles or so back to the car, then down to the river again to cool off the fried quads. Lucy took great amusement from the fact that I keep an emergency pot of jam in the glovebox of the car (the second person to comment on this in a few weeks!) I reckon it makes good sense to have some jam to hand in case of an emergency food bonk, all you need is some oatcakes or a couple of rolls and you're back on the road in no time!

Last night I ventured out for another night run, this time with the twins, Fiona and Pauline. What a change in the weather! It was about 7 degrees and we were drenched on a regular basis with the heavy showers, it was more like winter this time but I felt much better this week so maybe I am "acclimatising".

So, less than two weeks to go before the biggest, toughest ultra in Scotland. I'm absolutely busting to get going. I feel in good shape and races up to now have went pretty well so all that remains is to keep a lid on things, lie low and get stuck in there. I might post a few words before then in way of a preview, so till then behave yourselves or I'll be over to give you a big Ballingry moonshine!!

A Boot in the Trossachs

2009-05-10T13:41:00.002-03:00

Last weekend it was up to the Trossachs for the Stuc a' Chroin hill race definitely my favourite hill race. It has special memories for me since it was my very first hill race back in 1998. I was convinced, by a few hillwalking mates who had dipped their toes into the mysterious world of going-up-hills-even-faster-in-a-competitive-manner, that it would be a good idea to just turn-up in my road shoes with a bum-bag borrowed from my Dad which he got so he wouldn't look like a tourist whilst on holiday in the USA. It was a lovely sunny day, as it always is for the Stuc, I remember the summit never coming, then when it did, wondering how I was going to get back down. I remember losing any power left in my legs just before the last chin-scraping climb and fighting off cramp all the way up it, then getting to the top of the two mile track to the finish and being in such pain all the way down. When I got home I felt too ill to eat and went straight to bed. I've been hooked ever since.

So for the 11th year, (I missed one due to a dislocated shoulder) with a car full of eager Hillbillies, I was battling back up through Callandar, fighting my way through the cars filled with excited bank holiday-ers on the hunt for the Trossachs' best bargain tartan blanket and matching fridge magnet. This years journey was without incident, unlike last year when I was spectacularly pulled over in the main street packed with thimble hunters after stopping about 5 miles south of Callander and taking a slash in a bush. Sherlock Holmes read me the riot act whilst blocking all traffic heading north and probably caused fridge magnet sales to hit an all-time low for a good ten minutes, it's reassuring to know they're on the ball though.

We quickly registered, picked up our souvenir mugs and got ourselves to the start line. It was a huge field this year because the race was included in the British Championship, there was runners from all over the UK here and I saw a few familiar faces like IainR who had ran the Fling last week too. Once we got going I took the pace nice and easy until the track levelled out then I tried to push on a bit to get a decent spot before the field narrowed into single file for some of the climbs. The 1500 foot climb up Ben Each was as hard as always with everyone nose to tail climbing up through the rough heather then when it eventually levels out a bit the legs are so thrashed it's hard to get some running rythmn going again. I felt fine on the climbs but I really lacked strength on the descents and my brain seemed to be lagging a bit behind my legs today which wasn't good with such tricky terrain to negotiate. I made sure I took on water each time I passed the marshalls because it was quite warm and I was sweating buckets. Up to the summit then a big effort to hold it together on the descent to Glen Ample before the chin-scraping, quad busting climb back up again. As I hit the track I could see I was catching fellow Carnegie clubmate Pete so I pushed on and passed him and made the finish-line with about 100 yards on Pete, but missing a pb by a mere 16 seconds.

We were both trashed at the end with Pete writhing around on the ground with cramp, so the only cure was 10 minutes sitting in the freezing river. The Hillbillies came down too but thought the river was for washing in and just looked at me strangely as I sat submerged talking of the therapeutic benefits I would be reaping in the morning....

Highland Fling Race Report by 2nd placed Scott Bradley

2009-05-01T09:52:00.005-03:00

I've managed to persuade Highland Fling runner-up and Carnegie club-mate Scott Bradley to let me put his race report on the blog, it's inspirational stuff, here it is :-

Here's my longest log entry ever...

Saturday 25th April PB - Montane Highland Fling Race 2009

For me the excitement started well before the race – probably about Wednesday in fact, when it finally sunk in that in a few days I’d be attempting to run a relatively stupid distance along the West Highland Way. Friday night was fun, final preparations with my dad, deciding what to put in each “drop-bag” labelled Balmaha, Rowerdennan, Inversnaid and Beinn Glas. I was trying to imagine how crap I was going to feel at each of these places, what fuel I could cope with (or more optimistically, crave!). I soon realised I had absolutely no idea so gave myself a fairly wide selection in each (from obvious choices such as energy gels to wacky alternatives like honey-roasted peanuts and crisps). On the day it was my stomach that would choose and a fussy bugger it was too.

Getting up at 3:50am on Saturday was the worst part of the whole adventure, but a couple of hours later, arriving at the Milngavie Station carpark on this still and misty Saturday morning, the pre-coffee grogginess was overcome with excitement (and coffee). What a pleasant morning to start out on a long journey – no nasty wind, cold nor rain. Not bad for West-coast Scotland in April. Caught some of that pre-race energy from all the other runners, a buzz of nerves and anticipation. Watched the girls & the vets set off at 6am, time seemed to accelerate from that point on – I was queuing for a portaloo when the whilste was blown for the pre-race muster. In the end I had to run from the portaloo to the car, grab the way-too-shiny-for-this Camelbak, negotiate the trackie-bottoms past the shoes then get to the start.

And so off we go jogging through the mall then out into the park, and within that first mile a pack started to form ahead and I decided I wanted to be part of it. Dropped back briefly for a chat with Duncan McGougan then very slowly caught them back up, relishing the chance to run in a group at a pace where it’s possible to enjoy the scenery! Already I was hooked – this is what I had hoped Ultras would feel like, or at least the first part of them, cruising along and enjoying the journey and company of other runners as I watched the misty scenery of Strathblane glide seemingly effortlessly by. Clearly it was mindless-optimisim to expect it to feel that way to the end, but I figured the wheels would come off when they came off, tough shit I wasn't going to ruin the moment by worrying about it now. Id run through Strathblane once before with Gail & Co on a gorgeous frosty morning last January - everything coated in hawfrost. Today it looked very different, but equally gorgeous. One image sticks in my head now - a mirror-like Loch with mist hovering over it, pine forest poking out of the mist, weak sunshine hitting the hillside behind.

Had the MP3 with me, never used it. Had the garmin on, never looked at it (until the finish), had no idea of the pace or time at any point and good job too it might have psyched me out (I was sub-7min/miling in places en-route to Drymen). I was wearing an old pair of Nike Zoom Elite road shoes instead of the trail shoe's I'd invested in and worn only once before. Never really felt right in them, and didn't like the stupid studs on the bottom, I found I kept catching roots and rocks with them probably due to my adopted marathon-runner's shuffle.

Started chatting to Kenny Valentine along the old railway line in Strathblane, miles seemed to be flying by. The lead group was about 100m ahead, I didn't realise Jez was amongst them until Kenny pointed him out, actually I had no idea that was the leading pack at all as I had assumed Jez had flown off ahead after some chap that had set off at 10k pace. Oh well, again didn't let that psyche me out the pace still felt easy. After a couple more miles the marathon-running mentality took over again though and I started to very carefully close the gap on that lead group and drag Kenny alongwith. We hit the tarmac (yee ha!) the gap was now closing way too quickly but what the hell, top of the second rise and I had rejoined the pack and got a wee buzz from it. My next thought was "My God we're in that field near Drymen already!". I didn't know how long we'd been running for but it didn't feel long at all (and yet somehow I've still managed to write half a book about it).

Unfortunately my inexerpience let me down at Drymen, I didn't realise they had a water supply for runners there and went right through. So I found myself running alone about 10 yards behind Jez who also hadn't stopped, perhaps he has a camel impant, or more likely a super efficient back-up team or drop-bag and had acquired a replacement wastpack pre-filled with water. Not to worry, my legs still felt like I was just starting out on my morning jog to work, and I observed how keen the rest of the pack was to get back in front of me so I let them and had a sneaky powergel, leaving the others to open those annoying gates for me up into the forest. I noted I was feeling strong on the hills, but held back. Jez darted off for a piss and I saw a couple of the others respond by stretching it out a bit, again I left them to it. As soon as I hit the downhill before Conic Hill, gravity took over and I was almost-accidentally back with the leaders. When Conic Hill finally appeared ahead it was lit beautifully in weak morning sunshine, at which point I realised I was really looking forward to climbing it! What a pervert! My God what was happening today? Perhaps just one of those rare lucky days when everything just feels right and in tune? Anyway, whilst I spent the next half-mile fighting with a packet of jellybabies (and losing), the green top of Allan Smalls began to move quickly ahead up onto the moorland. I stuck to my slower pace (now trying to extract jelly babies having made an inadequate small hole in the plastic) and as the other two came past as if to chase Allan I was wondering where the hell Jez was.

Jez was "conserving" it seemed. Which is also what I was doing without really realising - my mantra for today was "run at whatever pace you can still enjoy". It was a very simple mantra, it matched my goal for the day, and it obviously worked really well for me. As soon as I hit a prolonged gradient (an extreme example being Conic Hill) I'd find myself working hard, the enjoyment would drop, I would drop pace accordingly and therefore I was cruising and enjoying myself again. Besides, I'm usually very strong on descents and I knew this.

Right enough as soon as I was over the crest beyond the Saltire Flag I let gravity take me back to the leading pack, forgetting a couple of times I wasn't wearing mudclaws and having a few Nike Zoom moments, but no harm done I got down to Balmaha at the same time as the others, and Lynne was standing there she gave me a real boost simply by saying "You're doing really, really well!". I replied "Yeah until the wheels come off", my expectation was that this would happen somewhere between here and Rowardennan, but I'd had so much fun today already I didn't care, I'd just deal with that when I had to. For now I had to hunt for my bloody drop-bag. Where the hell is it? Ah that's it. Now I had to get water in the shiny camelbak. Help! And some lucozade sport. Let's also try a Kelloggs Nutragrain (and let's not try a Kellogs Nutragrain again - yuk). Eventually got going again but only to find my camelbak pouring water on me. Another minute went by as I fumbled with the screw-cap for a while, and much to my surprise Jez had only just appeared at Balmaha, again with his camel implant he seemed to go straight through and so I tagged onto him and here started my education of how the master does it. I got such a buzz from this, what freaking right did I have to be here on the West Highland Way running with the legend himself? His pacing was excellent as well, I didn't need to rely on my mantra for the hills cos he just walked up them gently. We ran like this all the way over the multitude of sharp rises and falls that exist along this section of Loch Lomond, and I loved every minute of it. I've done a few training runs along here before and found those lumps surprisingly tough going, but today felt easier than any of those for some reason. Jez darted off for a pit-stop and I said "Good idea" and did the same, but when I noticed his pit-stop was a bit less simple than mine I decided not to wait and head on gently. Actually I got to Rowardennan and he hadn't caught me, but as I was doing my usual 2min camelbak faff beside my drop-bag (and being very grateful for those wonderful helpers at the drop stations), Jez did his usual and stormed straight by. He was out of sight by the time I got going again. I reckoned that was the last I'd see of him anyway. Not to worry. I was now running up the prolonged uphill along a wide forest track, passing the occasional 6am starter and exchanging encouraging banter (what a great attitude everyone has!), twice I had to tell myself to ease off.

I was in 4th place at this time, but didn't really think about that, there was way too far to go and my main aim was get to Inversnaid as comfortably as possible. I soon realised a 7am starter was ahead judging by the relative speed. As I gained on him I recognised his top from earlier, Andy Rankin (Thinking back now, the speed with which I caught him suggests I was probably pushing myself too hard along this section). I came alongside and started chatting. At this point we came alongside Mike Thompson who must have recognised my voice as he looked over and shouted. It was a great boost to see a familiar face, he pointed out that Jez was only about 2 minutes ahead (and has since told me that on hearing this I started to pull away from Andy - was there some crazy subconcious ambitious racer lurking beneath my mantra? It was subconcious if so, but I won't deny it). Off on my own again, but still feeling good. I got onto the rocky singletrack and enjoyed its wee ups and downs, Allan Smalls came into view ahead, seemingly going through a bad patch and I came past and said hello but at this point we were moving at very different speeds. Descending down to the bothy, my legs still didn't mind the abuse. Finally saw Inversnaid ahead and as I started climbing up to the bridge beneath the waterfall and I saw Jez for the first time in a while, he had just descended the steps and was into the carpark. Again I have to commend the efficiency of the crew here at the drop-bag station, really appreciated it. When I started to run again I half expected my legs to feel like concrete, but thankfully they were still happy. Great. The "mental section" by Loch Lomond was ahead, and my frame of mind was to look forward to it rather than fear it. Sure enough I enjoyed the gnarliness (don't care if that word doesn't exist, it seems appropriate), just got stuck in, ducking branches, swinging my weight over rocks, plenty to keep my mind busy. Although I can't deny the relief I felt when I hit the turfy flat section near the end of the loch.

First sign of fatigue finally got to me as I hit the ascent up the hill before Ben Glas. It was just a warning sign, and if I'd read it I might have saved myself a wee bit of trouble in the latter miles, but nevermind I ran all the way up that hill (I bet Jez was smarter and walked a couple bits) and enjoyed the rush of reaching the top knowing it was downhill to Ben Glas. As usual I waited until I had an audience (couple of walkers) before going head-over-arse on a rock. Got down to Ben Glas and loved the cheering supporters there - I was asked "How come you look so fresh?" and I don't care if everyone else after me was asked the same, it was another wee boost! Here was my biggest mistake today though - not filling the camelbak fully. I underestimated how far it was to Tyndrum from here (the ascent up Glen Falloch drags the distance out significantly especially when your legs have done 40+ miles). My stomach hadn't been interested in solid food and I had a single gel left. Oops.

I set off from Ben Glas and slowly the enjoyment began to fade. The scene ahead was bleak - yellow tussock grass with a wide landrover track that wanted to go uphill in a succession of sharp rises. My mindset changed. I was no longer here to enjoy myself. I was now in a race. There hadn't been one moment in the whole day that I thought I might be able to keep up with Jez - and I think that's a good thing given the circumstances. However, it occurred to me that here I was, in 2nd place, with only 10 miles to hold-out. Yes, racing mode was engaged and now I was concentrating really hard on keeping moving, without panicing, trying to find the optimal speed now, not the optimal enjoyment. I didn't dare glace behind me, not until I got to the rise before the bridge at Derrydarroch when I chanced a brief look back down Glen Falloch. You can see literally for miles behind, and I didn't see anyone. Relief. Are you sure? Another glance, a few dots noticed, perhaps one of them is... I got a nice clap as I came to the bridge, and another one as I came up the nasty rise to the A82. "Which way?" I shouted, "up here?" I asked as I started going up a dirt track onto the old road. They nodded and beckoned me on excitedly as if I was about to miss a departing train. That's kind of how it felt at this time. Don't blow it son. You've done really well. But don't blow it. Oh the joy.

Managed not to decapitate myself using the dwarve's tunnel under the A82, then straight onto the sharp slope where I told myself "Jez will have walked this so you should too." I think I was learning the bloody psychology of ultra running. At this point I noticed my camelbak was empty. I had taken my last gel. I was in trouble now. And it was uphill to the forest. I looked ahead, the cow track seemed to stretch uphill for miles ahead. In the distance I saw a white dot moving towards the forest at the top. That was the last I would see of Jez until the finish-line. But at least I saw him. I got to the kissing-gates into forest myself about 7 minutes later (pure guess), suddenly realising how ridiculous it was to be wearing a helly hansen on this warm sunny day. I didn't need my mantra to tell me to walk up the steep hill after the gate, there was no longer any choice. Yet there was positivity still there, I'd turned "the corner" and was on "the final straight" as far as I was concerned. Downhill all the way to the road and the river I thought. (Liar!). After riding the rollercoaster trail through the forest and emerging at the A85 I could swear I was smiling again. Bad timing (or perhaps good) as I was forced to stand at the roadside watching half of Scotland's holiday traffic follow a caravan towards Tyndrum. Then through the horses field and over the bridge, I was moving smoothly again now the gradient was level. I will never forget that wee boy at Auchentyre Farm standing out there on his own to shout encouragement at the crazy runners coming by, "Excellent running!" he said, and in my fatigued state it was almost emotionally moving. Through the farm, more nice support, then onto tarmac. Tarmac! You have no idea how my Nikes responded to that - I swear I was sub 7min/miling. I was flying. As I crossed the A85 for the last stretch to Tyndrum, having glanced behind enough to know I was still 2nd, my glee was suddenly replaced by paranoia that I was going to throw my achievement away by drowning in the 6 inch deep river or braining myself on a tree.

As if on queue, I had my first cramp on the final sharp rise after crossing the river. "Not now" I said alloud. "Nearly there". I had to focus on shifting my stride pattern slightly and relaxing my legs, I was seriously dehydrated (the brown urine an hour ago said as much) and so the cramp could easily bring me to a standstill. (Addendum: its now Thurs night as I type this and I still carry an injury in the right calf which I suspect may have happened during that cramp). Thankfully my leg responded positively. And so over the bare hillside by the old lead mine and into the trees by the river. Wow. I'd freakin well done it. Past "By the Way" cabins, up to a style. "What's your number?" I was asked. "Three, zero, six" I shouted, remembering the instructions in the briefing doc. Then onwards down the trail to the final 1 inch-deep river I might drown in, looked up, and my God there's the flags ahead (Richie Cunningham's bouncy castle), and that's the finishing straight. There are the people waiting to welcome me back to the real world. I was definately smiling now. There's photos to prove it. And so I finished, and finished in a very unexpected time. I looked at my garmin for the first time since the start. 7:33 it said. It meant nothing to me at the time, it means a lot more to me now of course. But forget that. The most important thing about today was how much enjoyment I got from running those 53miles - and I'm talking about the actual "doing" here, not just basking in the "having done". As I said in my "thank-you" email to Murdo and Ellen, this was a day of fond memories that will stay with me hopefuly forever. (if not partly thanks to this ridiculously long log entry).

Scott Bradley 2009

And Now For Something Completely Different

2009-04-30T18:44:00.003-03:00

Tonight I decided to take the Pink Panther for a spin through to Kinross for the 10k. A few squirts of lube juice, pumped up the tyres and we were off. She was loving it, the first time she's been out the garage this year!

The Pink Panther (yeah, yeah I need to tidy the garage...!)

I thought I'd just use the 10k as a tempo session for this week but yep, you guessed it, I couldn't resist racing it! It was pretty painful to start with, going at that pace, and when I glanced at my watch for the first time and there was only 10 minutes gone I had to double check I hadn't pressed stop by mistake. After that I just got my head down and started to feel pretty good about half way, even taking a few places.

I wasn't the only nutter there either, my clubmate and fellow Flinger Sid James also ran and finished just a few steps behind me. We're a hardy bunch us Carnegies!

I finished in 30th place in 38:34 which probably means I've no hope of a pb at Stuc a Chroin on Saturday but I'll cross that bridge when I come to it!

A massive spread of cakes awaited us at the end but unfortunately I had no lights on the Pink Panther so I just rammed my mouth full of cake and left... apologies for my terrible manners.

I must also mention all the comments on the Fling report and say thanks to everybody, it's very much appreciated that you take the time to read my nonsense!

Flings Can Only Get Better...

2009-04-29T11:26:00.003-03:00

... And they do! In every respect, and even a pb every year for me, what more could you want?!

As I said in my preview post I wasn't sure if I was going to suffer because of all the big mileage I've been putting in and in the end I don't think I did, but I don't think it's improved me much either... yet, it's all miles in the bank for the West Highland Way race in June, that's the plan.

The Highland Fling has got to be the best value race in the calender. It is superbly organised and is run over a course which tests a whole range of skills, with the flat and fast 13 miles to Drymen, the very technical sections up Loch Lomond and the hilly miles at the end. This means that judging your pace is really important and also a bit tricky. Go out too fast and you'll pay dearly later on, as I found out. I think if I'd dropped my pace a fraction up to Drymen I'd have been much stronger on the Loch-side, something to remember for WHW.

The new system of staggered starts was implemented this year with the Ladies and Super-Vets going out an hour earlier which meant we got to hunt down women and old people to get to the beer and stovies first at the finish. This turned out to be really good with loads of encouragement from everyone I passed and seeing friendly faces gave a real boost at some of the low points.

For me, there was a few of those.

My stomach was bad from the start, and just got worse as the race went on, with numerous pit stops in the woods giving temporary respite, but the worst thing was I just couldn't eat. I think I ate about 6 gels and some sweets on the 53 miles along with my energy drinks which sloshed around in my stomach like a washing machine on full spin cycle, all I could think about for most of the race was crossing the finish line and having a real good spew!

That wasn't to be though.

The Crazy German had other ideas as, with about 5 miles to go he overtook looking fresh as a gänseblümchen. I already had swapped places with Iain R about 20 times in the race and he wasn't for letting go so potentially I could drop another place and who knows, were the cavalry fast approaching from behind? So, I decided it was now or never, let go on the descent to the A82, passed the Crazy German, and hoped I could keep the pace going to the finish. I never saw anyone behind me after that, and believe me I had a few glances over my shoulder, and managed to hang on until the river just before the end where I started to cramp up quite badly but the sight of the bouncy castle spurred me on and by the time I realised it wasn't a bouncy castle I was finished. The energetic finish had, ironically, sorted my stomach out so it wasn't long before I was enjoying the complimentary stovies and beer. A pb of 8:18 and 1st team prize rounded off a great day.

Thanks to Murdo, Ellen all involved in the organisation, to Debbie and Silke for the encouragement and to all the other runners and supporters for making it a great day on the trails, also to the club who generously put me up in the bunkhouse and provided a great feed as well!

Report on Scottish Athletics Website

The Highland Fling - Preview

2009-04-23T19:36:00.003-03:00

Saturday is the Highland Fling Race, 53 miles on the West Highland Way. This will be the third time I've ran it, in 2007 I ran 8:44, then in 2008 I dropped that to 8:23 in really wet conditions (and also stopped to take my shoe off and patch up a blister) so this year I'm hoping it's going to stay dry with no hitches and I can make it 3 PB's in a row. I've ran a lot of mileage in the last few months so maybe that will catch up on me later in the race, but I think I've got it right with the build-up... I'll soon find out!! I'll update via Twitter when I get finished.

There's going to be a mens team from Carnegie for the first time in the Fling so hopefully we can all do well, so, good luck to everyone taking part and remember to save me a fishcake supper in the chippy.....

(The Morning After) The First Big Weekend of the Summer

2009-04-15T19:09:00.003-03:00

4 Days, 180 miles, approx 26 000' ascent/descent and a few calories consumed

Bleary-eyed I looked out from under the bedcovers. Clothes lay in a heap where they'd fallen as I'd chucked them off and staggered into bed. A top with jam stains and chocolate milk spilt all down the front, snot stains on the sleeves. Trousers too with chocolate milk dribbled down a leg. A long dead camel-bak with all the life sooked out of it peaking out from under cover of a rucksack. A pair of tatty looking shoes betraying my route home. I staggered out of bed, still feeling the effects in my legs and the memories of what I'd been doing slowly started to come back to me. I'd sunk a whole lot of miles far too quickly and on an empty stomach, but no it wasn't that... it was that last mile that did it... it was a bad one, I'm sure of it.

This is what a Big Weekend is, no peering out to look at an old pizza box and inspecting my muddy shoes to try and work out how I got home... oh no! A Big Weekend is something completely different now. The morning after is now about mouldy camel-baks and congealed fruit pastilles in a stinky bum-bag. About being woken up not by a thumping head but a rumbling tummy and running, not to the bathroom to puke, but to the kitchen to get some food in before I start to feel rough.

Milngavie's got a lot to answer for I thought as I jogged through the pedestrian shopping area at about 10.30am on a Saturday morning. I looked pretty mad, like some sort of MDS reject who got lost on the way, but I'm used to it so I barely noticed the stares and the old wifies running for cover. I had a plan. Problem was I hadn't stuck to it. I was about 2 1/2 hours late in leaving the car but I just put that to the back of my mind and adopted my usual attitude of "it'll all work out in the end" anyway I'm sure I'd packed my torch.

My legs were stiff and sore because I'd had a hard session the day before, so it was all pain and rubbish running all the way to the top of Loch Lomond. I had arranged to meet Lucy in Tyndrum at about 6pm because she was also up training in the area, and there was no way I was going to make it so I thought I'd better phone and let her know. The conversation went roughly as follows...

"I'm at the top of the Loch and its going to be about 2 1/2 hours before I make Tyndrum"

"Oh, ok. I could come and give you a lift if you like?"

" No, I couldn't do that... I have to do the whole thing"

"Ok, so you think about 2 1/2 hours?"

"Yes"

"Are you sure you don't want a lift?"

"Ok, when can you get here??"

Yes, Mr Weakwilled bailed out 10 miles short! Ah well, the guy at the bothy cheered me up as I passed when he asked me if I could spare him a cigarette!! I know I wasn't looking too healthy at the time but what the...!

Day 2 was going to be different though because I was meeting up with the WHW training group to run up to Fort William. This meant I'd have some company and they would also pull me a long a bit. It didn't really work out that way because I was just too slow, they were looking for a good fast training run and I had the next two days on my mind so it was a bit of a mis-match. It was good to chat with the guys for the first few miles and also to meet some of them for the first time, but for most of the run I was chasing dots in the distance. It was great to finally get into Fort Bill though, I'd had a list of things I was going to eat lined up so I made my way straight to Tesco on the High Street... and you guessed it, they closed 5 minutes before I got there along with just about everywhere else. I was saved by the Chinese though, where I unwrapped my curried chips as soon as I was outside and ate them walking along the road to the B&B. Once I was in and showered I then ordered a delivery, a 12" pizza, chips and pakora, inhaled the lot and was soon off to sleep... only to wake up in the night and eat all the biscuits I had left. What a night of debauchery!

So Day 3, and with a belly full of porridge, toast and tea I walked into town to meet Victor who was going to run to Tyndrum with me. We got to Morrisons and surprise surprise, I was starving so I nipped in and bought four cakes, a bar of chocolate, some chocolate milk and one of these canned latte drinks. I had scoffed the lot by the time Victor had parked the car and so fuelled up again we headed to the start of the way. We soon got going at a good pace and in no time we were in Kinlochleven and down to the Co-Op for supplies. A couple of bags of crisps, chocolate bar, chocolate milk and 2 bottles of Coke later (Victor had some food too!) we were off again on the big climb out. I felt great at this point and ran the whole climb, getting to the top and keeping the pace going but it wasn't to last, by the time I reached Kingshouse the wheels were off and I had to go into the hotel for some more crisps and coke. The weather had turned a bit crappy by the time I left and it was a drizzly mist blowing in my face all the way over Rannoch Moor that really got me down. With about 36 miles down I plodded into Bridge of Orchy station and sheltered in the underpass guzzling the last of the biscuits, Victor appeared having come back to look for me and we set off again. I was determined to keep a meaningful pace going because this was the whole point of the run, to train myself to really keep it going when my body was in bits. So I was quite pleased to maintain the pace all the way to Tyndrum being mindful that I still had 53 miles to go the next day so I had to keep something in reserve. So, like all true Scottish athletes the only thing left to do was get to the chippy before it shut, and we only just made it, getting a fishcake supper to go and then it was off to the bunkhouse for food and sleep.

Day 4 started in the Green Welly stocking up on biscuits and Coke then Victor headed north back to Fort Bill and I started on the 53 mile run south to Milngavie. After about 6 miles or so I reached the hilly section near Crianlarich and the miles really started to take their toll, the climbs seemed to go on forever and the boggy section higher up was a real pain (literally!). As I came past Derrydarroch Farm my thoughts started to drift towards the shop at Beinglas and Snickers bars, coffee, maybe even ice cream... not far now. So as I rounded the building and saw the shop all closed up you can imagine my disappointment! I consoled myself with some now broken and bashed biscuits and some watery coke mixture and started to dream of the Inversnaid Hotel a good 8 or so very rough and rugged miles away. The weather was very nice now with the sunshine quite warm, I passed by the bothy again, had a look inside and who should be sitting there but the cigarette man from the other day! We had a short chat then I carried on dreaming of refreshments at Inversnaid. By the time I got there it was quite busy with a coach load of oldies milling around and the sound of Pandrops being munched was definitely to be heard... I pushed my way into the bar to be kept waiting for ages before getting just as awful service as on the way up (at least they're consistent) but I was happy to be leaving with my supplies. I quickly inhaled a sandwich, then was off down the loch again. It's really surprising how different it all looks going the other way and also with such tired legs, the endless boulders, tree-roots and undulating trail kept me well entertained (!) all the way to my next pit stop at Rowardennon, where I stopped briefly for a fill up of the camel-bak and a couple of bags of crisps then it was off on the final 27 miles. I tried not to think about it but I'd been going for a very long time and 27 miles was still a long way, just keep moving forward and keep the pace "meaningful" that was my mantra. The rugged outcrops just before Balmaha weren't as bad as I'd built them up to be in my mind and I was soon on Conic Hill in the warm evening sun. That was tough. It was a real slog on tired legs all the way up but it was nice to chat to a couple of walkers who cheered me up and had me running down the other side and into the forest with renewed energy, and down to Drymen.

This was where the real training would begin. The road. I'd thought about it all day how I was going to reach this point, the most runnable of the day yet I was going to be knackered... and I was. This was where it counted, the part where I had to show my head that the body could do it, the pain was just something to be overcome not to be given in to. Also I knew it was going to get dark before I finished so I had to get as much ground covered in the light as possible because with my tiny torch held together with elastic bands I wouldn't be moving very fast (it was very lightweight though!) So, I dug into the depths of my reserves and started to run as even a pace as I could. After a few miles some cyclists whizzed past and then turned round and came back. " Are you the guy we saw today near Inversnaid?" they asked. When I told them I was and then after they asked me where I'd come from etc, they shook their heads and spun off down the road again. Strange chaps.

I kept my pace going nice and evenly all the way to Milngavie, except to stop for a few minutes at a bench looking over the park just to have a wee thought to myself about my journey, and at around 9.15pm, 12 1/2 hours after leaving Tyndrum I reached the door of the Milngavie chippy. Single fish, lightly salted and vinegared in hand, I walked back to my car. Mission accomplished.

Postcard From Clachnaben

2009-04-14T18:17:00.005-03:00

Hi All

Having a great time, the weather is fantastic, blazing sunshine all the time and it's really quite warm once you get going! The locals are very friendly and a lot like us really, some of them speak quite good English as well! The food is top-class and there's even beer!

Wish you were here!

P.S Clachnaben is a Scottish Championship hill race, 10m 3500'. Photos, results

The First Big Weekend

2009-04-01T05:55:00.002-03:00

"went out for the weekend, it lasted for ever, high with our friends, it's officially summer" goes the Arab Strap song, it seems strangely appropriate.

I got home late last night after four days running on the West Highland Way, it was amazing fun, highs and lows all over the place and I'm a bit tired now so this is just a brief summary.

I left Milngavie with a rucksack full of biscuits and coke on Saturday morning, planning to run to Fort William and back in four days. It didn't quite work out but here's how it went.

Saturday - Milngavie to Beinn Glas farm (41 miles)

Sunday - Tyndrum to Fort William (43 miles)

Monday - Fort William to Tyndrum (43 miles)

Tuesday - Tyndrum to Milngavie (53 miles)

180 miles in four days, you wouldn't believe how much I've eaten!!!

Full details coming up..........

Bashing the Bishop, Battling the Bogmonster and other stories

2009-03-17T11:55:00.003-03:00

... " a quick 20 miles"? Now there would be a novelty! My running hasn't seen a "quick 20 miles" for many a moon! Probably because most of the miles have their fair share of obstacles in the way like hills, rocky and stoney paths, mud and generally too many miles to make "a quick 20" a foolish thing to do!

So, having satisfied my lust for the tarmac loop for a while it was back to the business of the fast up and down type. The Bishop Hill race was next on the agenda. I wasn't really looking to do a long run but had to get a few miles in so I elected to run over Benarty Hill to Scotlandwell to the race start, about 7 miles and the same back. Add that to the 2 and a 1/2 ish and 1000 or so feet of the race and it was a good wee run out. I set off and after some nice easy running I realised I had mis-judged the time and was going to miss the start if I didn't take some short cuts. So, after some eye-balls-oot-running through some mucky fields over some high fences and through some jaggy hedges I made it to pick up my number with about 5 minutes to spare. Off we went and after about 3 steps the course dips down into a nasty "trench" then out again and then another 10 steps, the snotters are flying and you're into the climb. Pete from Carnegie was doing only his 2nd hill race and shot off like a rocket so Tommy and I went with him and stuck together more or less the whole race, just managing to pass him on the last descent and Tommy passing me to finish a couple of seconds ahead in 8th place, me 9th and Pete 11th. It was great to see lots of Carnegie vests too, 18 in all, a fantastic turn-out for a club that only had a few hillrunners until recently. After munching soup and rolls back at the hall I jogged back home at a much more leisurely pace happy with my afternoons Bishop bashing!

The HPM team: Neil, me, Francis and Sam

Next up was the High Peak Marathon. As I mentioned in a previous post the organisers should be sued under the trade descriptions act because there are no high peaks, just huge bogs and rolling hills, and it's 40 miles as opposed to a marathon! The idea is to run in teams of four starting at 1 minute intervals from 11pm carrying the required kit for an emergency overnight stop, if necessary. I ran this last year and swore at the end I would never do it again, it was a nightmare of bogs, rain, darkness and sleep deprivation but here I was again! My team had had to have a few changes due to injuries so Francis and I were the only two from the original entry with Sam stepping in to use the race for MDS training and Neil who saved us at the last minute since Oscar dropped out with an injury. Oscar had generously offered to meet me and Victor (who was running in another team) in Longtown on the way down and do the driving, which was a huge help as we would run all night then have to drive home in the morning. So, we found ourselves in the unusual setting of the Chinese in Longtown ordering a large chips and curry, not my usual pre-race meal but I reckoned it would do the job in terms of carbo loading for the night. Oscar arrived and we drove down to Edale, met the rest of the guys and at 11:38 pm we were off. I must say my curried chips were a treat, they fueled me up a treat and I didn't really eat anything apart from the odd sweet until about 7:30am at Snake Pass where I had a cheese sandwich. Sam commented that he was eating the elite Scottish athletes food of choice, shortbread. But it was fairtrade shortbread. Are there lots of shortbread makers in Scotland sitting in their wee crofts being beaten down in price by the supermarket giants he asked??! I must check that one out.

Welcome to the Moscar buffet

The night-time bogs provided the usual amusement, I laughed heartily at one point when I was suddenly submerged half way up my chest in freezing bog. It wasn't so much a case of being careful not to lose a shoe but more like hold onto your trousers or you might lose them!

Dawn on Bleaklow

It was a relief to see daylight as we reached the flagstones of the Pennine Way, this was where it became runnable again but the problem was convincing your legs of that. It had been a real team effort so far with Francis doing a fantastic job of navigating through the featureless terrain all night, but now Sam and Neil were feeling it so we had to pace it right for the run in to the finish. We all had our ups and downs and kept a good steady pace to finish in 10:56:30 only a minute slower than last year, consistent or what??

Snake Pass at 7.50am

Feeling the pain on Win Hill

Finally, to round off a good 3 weekends of running was the Wuthering Hike race. 33 miles of good trails in North Yorkshire, very runnable and my 3rd time of running it. I travelled down again with Victor, now having built up an immunity to the noxious smells which emit from his backside on a regular basis, but I was glad to hit the fresh air of Haworth with only about 10 minutes to go to the race start. About 250 of us crowded into the cobbled street at the start and we were off, jostling for position and chatting away until we were out onto the open trails and into the strong headwind. I kept with a large group for a bit getting some shelter at the back but slowly we split up until I was running with two guys, a Calder Valley runner and a guy from Stockport. We stayed together for most of the race until the CV guy dropped off before the Horse Bridge checkpoint then I left the Stockport runner as I pushed the pace towards the Lane Head checkpoint and felt strong as I overtook a runner looking pretty wobbly and then a pair before managing to blast the last couple of miles into Haworth finishing in 4:41:09 and 5th place.

That's the adventures up to date for now, February's mileage was 245 miles so keeping it steady. I'll be taking it a bit easier for a week or so before embarking on an adventure of a slightly different kind.... will keep you posted.

Sometimes you've just got to tell your body to shut up....!

2009-02-23T15:28:00.003-03:00

A 750 mile round trip, 35 mile race and about 5 gallons of coffee made for an eventful weekend.

There was still about half an hour to go before the start of yesterdays Draycote Water 35 mile race and I was trying to make up my mind. Should I just pull out and cheer the other Carnegie runners on who I'd travelled down with? I just didn't feel things were right and the freezing wind that was blasting us didn't make me feel much better about it. I got changed and before I could make my mind up I was on the start line and off and running.

After about 45 mins I had completed the first lap of 7 (this was a longer one to make the distance up) then lap 2 went in at about 33 mins and lap 3 about the same. So far so good, I felt pretty comfortable and my knee was perfect! lap 4 was a wee bit slower and I lost about 2 1/2 mins on lap 5 because I had to stop at the loos, no avoiding it, and lap 6 I lost 2 places as I slowed quite a bit but I felt good and steady at the end to finish in 7th place in 4 hours 21 and a bit. I went through the marathon in 3:11 as well which is a marathon pb for me!( I've only done 2, about 10 years ago).

So, children, the moral of the story is don't listen to your body when it's complaining, just give yourself a good kick up the butt and get on with it!

Today I'm knackered... maybe I should go out and get in a quick 20 miles...??!

A Sore Knee and an Itchy Bum - Have I Gone Too Far?

2009-02-20T18:19:00.006-03:00

Is this weekend going to be a step too far?

That's the question I've been asking myself the last few days.

I've had three weeks of hard training and racing, with the mileage being stepped up a bit too. My knee has been niggling since the beginning of January after a slip on the slopes of Cairngorm in the snow and then giving it a real good clatter in Forfar just to make sure. But how else do you find out what's a step too far?

So it's off south for the Draycote Water 35 mile race. Not really my forte this but good training nonetheless, 4.75 mile circuits on tarmac... yes you can sense my enthusiasm!

A wee recap of the last few weeks then.

After Forfar I put in my first 100 mile week of the year finishing off with a couple of back-to-back 20+ milers so it was good to get that under my belt, then I was up in Aberdeenshire for a week working so the snow made running a pain as it was all road runs but I still managed a speed session of sorts which was interesting!

Then at the weekend there was the Carnethy 5 hill race. This year was the snowy edition, which meant really fast descents for most except the girly descenders like me who tootled down most carefully then battered it to the next one! I did manage a bumslide though, which I regretted afterwards with my bright red bum cheeks glowing through till about Wednesday and now they're just really itchy so I spend most of my time with my hands down the back of my trousers howking. This gets funny looks in the supermarket.

The next day, after Carnethy, I met up with Kate J for a run which she had suggested going from the Hillend ski area along the Pentlands then down to West Linton adding in another few tops for good measure. It was a great route but I think it would be much more enjoyable on a warmer day! My feet were like ice the whole way round, every time I just about got them warmed up they were dipped into another freezing swampy patch... oh joy! The beans and toast went down a real treat at the end though, after 21+ miles and about 6000' I think we'd earned it.

Then, on Monday just to round things off I put in a 16 mile road run which had the knee niggling again and it's kind of been their in the background all week so I'll give it the test on Sunday and see if it's a real injury or not!

A "warrior" pic from Forfar (the rest of the Garden Gang are right behind me!)
Pic courtesy of Allan Young

I've updated the list of races I'm hoping to do this year ( about time... yeah I know...!) see it down the left hand side.

Late Call

2009-02-01T20:27:00.001-03:00

January is a hard month for an ultra runner in Scotland. The weather is at it's worst and the days are short. So what better way to make things more interesting than a night run in the hills??

It was Oscar who made me do it. His idea was to run from Galashiels to Peebles then on to Innerleithen and get the bus back to Gala. Why? To prepare for the High Peak Marathon of course! It's a 40 mile race on THE toughest terrain I've ever ran on/through, it borders on the farcical when, in the middle of the night your running partners (and you) regularly "lose" a leg up to the waist in freezing peat bog and everyone trots on as if nothing has happened... I can't wait!

So, Oscar and I slipped and slid the first few miles in the dark along the Southern Upland Way hoping to recreate some of the HPM's testing conditions and thus give ourselves some kind of valuable advantage!

It had all been going according to plan until we arrived in Peebles at about 4am in torrential rain, it was real stair-rod stuff and I was soaked to the skin. I mentioned to Oscar that this might be a bit dodgy as we climbed back into the hills but after a short discussion we agreed to stick to the plan and do the loop back to Innerleithen. So, we started the climb up Kirkhope Law and the rain went off, but then the sky cleared and the temperature dropped rapidly. Very quickly I was freezing cold and unable to get warmed up with the wind increasing and going right through my wet clothes so we pushed on almost to the summit then decided it would be sensible to go back to Peebles and catch the bus there as we had some tricky navigation to come and anything going wrong in these conditions could be pretty dodgy. We timed it perfectly, as we rounded the corner into Peebles high street the bus was waiting, we grabbed some food in the bakers and sat on the bus shivering, looking like two complete weirdo's who had been to some sort of strange lycra fetish party (I believe they exist in Peebles) with 33 miles and a load of climbing in the bag... mission accomplished!

Dark and rain above Peebles

Next up on the schedule was the Devils Burdens Relays in the Lomond Hills. It's always a really enjoyable race with Carnegie putting in nine teams this year. Great to see some new faces trying out in the hills for the first time. I ran leg 3 again with Sandy as my partner and had a pretty good run, then ran leg 4 to make up the numbers in another team so had a good fast flat run too.

Yesterday was the club cross country race at Loch Fitty so I decided to do it as the course is excellent. It was really muddy this year and made for hard running so I was pleased to only be about 15 seconds outside my pb from 2007 and in 2nd place.

Then to complete a weekend of fast, muddy running I went up to Forfar to do the multi terrain half marathon which is a mixture of road, trail and hill with lots of mud too. I haven't ran a half marathon for years so wasn't really sure how this would go. I set off at a good steady pace then pushed it a bit at about 3 miles to make up some ground, then at 4 miles had a nasty fall in a huge muddy puddle gashing my knee and hands so that took the wind out of my sails for half a mile or so. One wrong turn later I was running with another two guys until we found ourselves in someones back garden realising something was wrong when the path reached the garden shed. Then back on track again I took my chances on my own as they didn't seem to have much more of an idea of the route than me, at least when I took wrong turns they shouted me back... very sporting! I finished up in 13th place in 1:25:29 and had a good long soak in Forfar Loch to celebrate.

Some fast stuff lately has blown the cobwebs away making it quite a good months running with mileage totalling just over 280 and a fair mix-up of road, hills and people's back gardens so hopefully I can keep it going.

Cairngorms 4000's Slideshow

2009-01-06T21:33:00.002-03:00

Here it is folks! Another Sunday Adventure Club presentation!

Make a Smilebox slideshow

Adventures in MacChamonix and Other Stories...

2009-01-04T20:29:00.004-03:00

It's brass* here and the forecast is even more brass. But, it makes for great running weather!

Here's a wee round-up of the festive adventures, then I'll get onto the boring stats and the New Years resolutions.

A week on from the 100k I ran the Carnegie Harriers Festive Forest Run it's a fast and furious 7 miles through Kelty woods. I really enjoyed it this year even though my time was much slower than my previous in 06, which I ran a week after the Round Rotherham 50 miler so I can't use that excuse! I had a last 1/4 mile sprint finish with club mate Ian Johnson where we swapped positions about 4 times cursing and swearing at each other each time for making the other work hard AGAIN before Ian nosed over the line in front and collapsed in a pile of snot... that'll teach him!!

Mud and snotters at the Festive Forest

Then, after all the weeks excitement of the annual shopping festival and celebration of consumerism, beer drinking and sprout eating it was off to Scotlands very own Chamonix, yes, Tillicoultry for The Lawbreaker Hill Race. What a cracker it was too, 3 miles and 1800 feet of ascent meant it was a real quad busting climb with a ripping descent back down to the finish again, thoroughly enjoyable stuff!

Two days later I was heading up the A9 (yes Scotlands answer to the Autobahn but with speed limits... I think!) to meet Victor in another contender for Scottish Chamonix... yes, Aviemore (at least in both of these places you can buy a bag of chips* for less than a tenner*). We then parked up at Glenmore Lodge and set-off for a winter round of the Cairngorm 4000's (approx 24 miles 8000 feet climb). The thermometer in the car was reading -9 when we left and I don't think it got much warmer all day with the wind making it feel much colder on the tops, this didn't stop Victor from wearing shorts the whole way round though (since he's now a hairy a***d Teuchter !). The views were spectacular as we ran around the tops looking down the Lairig Ghru and over half of Scotland which helped to take my mind off the frozen snotters which were stinging my nostrils for most of the day. We passed a few groups of walkers who gave us strange looks as we trotted past in our trainers, and Victor in his shorts, most were very pleasant but a few were pretty ignorant, maybe we had shattered their "wilderness experience"! We had some fun descending the slopes of Ben MacDui too, the quickest way was to bumslide on the hard-packed snow, at one point I thought I had worn right through the seat of my pants and was on to the first layer of skin but no, it was just the first stages of frostbite... ouch!

Frozen snotters in The Cairngorms

Yesterday I was back in Tillicoultry, no time for croissants in the square though, as the weather was crisp and clear and Tommy and I were out to run over the Ochils to Blackford and back. It was an amazing sunrise as we gained height up to the Maddy Moss and it was good, fast running all the way with the ground frozen solid. A good 19 miler with about 4000 feet of climb... Happy days!

Onto the stats for the year.

Total Races - 25

Total Mileage for Races - 858 miles

Total Ascent - 141 800 feet

Average Mileage per Race - 34.3 miles

Average Ascent per Race - 5672 feet

Total Training and Racing Mileage - 2800 miles (approx.)

The training and racing mileage is an estimate because I don't record miles for taper weeks and recovery weeks so I don't get all mileage obsessed and do too much.

I've raced a lot this year, maybe I should focus on fewer races for 2009??

New Years Resolutions...?

I'm not good at setting myself rules so lets just say I'll try and run the un-runnable bits and run faster on the runnable bits... maybe a good metaphor for the rest of my life too!

Happy New Year!

*Translations for overseas readers and sassenachs : "Brass" = very cold, old chap; "A bag of chips" = un sac de French fries; A "tenner" = quite a lot of money if you live in the UK, but not very much if you live elsewhere in the world... thanks Mr Brown...

Fuego y Agua 100k - Race Report

2008-12-21T08:34:00.006-03:00

This year my running has taken me to some strange and exotic places, and not all of them in my head.

The Fuego y Agua 100k was going to be one step further.

I've ran in some varied environments; freezing cold temperatures in the mountains, mud and bogs, athletics tracks, hard packed stony trails, the aggressive heat and altitude of Mont Blanc (which I didn't fare well in) but none like I was about to encounter.

Fuego y Agua translates to Fire and Water. The fire of the active Concepcion volcano and the water of the dormant Maderas volcano, with it's amazing crater lake at the top and the muddy, boggy cloud-forest which covers its slopes. The course can be summarised as a 30k ish undulating trail, then a 1500 metre climb and descent, another 30k on trails then a 1000 metre climb and 10k or so to the finish. Add to this the temperatures and humidity of a tropical climate, some snakes and frogs armed with lethal venom, no such thing as an OS map and a volcano which has erupted with quite some regularity every 50 years, last time 1957.....!

I couldn't wait to get going.

I'd been in Nicaragua for about 3 weeks by race day, travelled around a bit seeing the sights and also recce-ing the two volcanoes. I hadn't ran for more than about an hour at a time since it was so hot but I had made sure I put in some good hard sessions to try to help me adapt to the heat, this was going to be the most important thing. The mileage wasn't a priority since it was only 7 weeks before this race that I had clocked 127 miles at the 24 hour so I couldn't really put in any distance in that short space of time.

The other thing to prepare was my race gear. I decided to go minimalist and run with a bumbag, 2 x 500ml bottles, a couple of packs of biscuits, a few gels and a bag of boiled sweets. I also had 3 drop bags at aid stations with drinks, gels, food and importantly a more cushioned pair of trail shoes for after Maderas when my feet would be sore from wearing my fell shoes. There are also lots of places to buy drinks and food along the trail sections so I made sure I had money too.

As far as tactics go, I felt the best approach for me was to make use of the cool 4am start and push the pace hard to the bottom of Maderas then I should avoid the hot temperatures as I climb higher and therefore not start to feel the heat until about the 40k mark where I would just have to tough it out from there.

The tension was high when the runners started to gather at the start around 3.30am with not much talking going on as we eyed each other to see who might be the ones to watch. There was a local Nica guy there who looked particularly handy, the Columbian guy looked like he knew his stuff too and the two tall Texans, Pete and T.J looked like big strong guys as did the two Italian guys. This was going to be an interesting race.

So with lots of honking of horns from the motorbikes the race was underway and immediately the Nica guy took off like he was in a 10k not seeming to be concerned about having a torch as we headed onto the pitch black trail. I just settled into a good pace and tried to be careful not to turn an ankle as we made our way along the rough dirt trail and soon I had caught up with Nica. We leap-frogged each other all the way until we hit the paved road section then ran shoulder to shoulder at a pretty fast pace for a 100k pushing each other on to see who would drop first. It wasn't until about 5k before the Maderas ascent that I moved ahead and I never saw Nica again although I spent the whole of the race looking back expecting to see him anytime!

Approaching El Porvenir (pic courtesy of Josue Stephens)

When I reached the El Porvenir aid station it was just being set up, so I inhaled a banana, downed a gel, refilled my bottles and since my drop bag food no-longer looked appealing I left it and made for the big climb.

Refueling at El Porvenir (pic courtesy of Josue Stephens)

Keeping my pace up I ran a good bit of the climb until it got so steep and technical that it was hands on knees and hike hard time. The sound of howler monkeys seemed to be getting really loud too, their calls sounding really quite fierce and intimidating. I had a good rhythm going and made short work of the climbing, passing two of the guys who were going up to help set up the aid station in the summit crater. I said hello and carried on as the climb turned more muddy and slippy with each step, the path eroded under the tree roots so much now that I was having to use my hands more and more to climb over and sometimes under them.

The route starts to get tricky

It was absorbing stuff (literally!). I ate all my biscuits now (along with some mud which I was now covered in) since the pace had been slowed by the terrain and I could digest them a bit better. I felt pretty good as I negotiated the treacherously slippy descent into the crater my mind fixed on a good drink of water and a nuun tablet to help me rehydrate at the aid station. As I emerged from the bushes like a madman I realised straight away that the two guys I had passed WERE the aid station, I had mis-heard, there was no-one else here! Ok, nothing for it but to get on and get down to the next one as quick as possible. I carved my initial in the mud in case there was any doubt I had been here, although I don't think I could have gone anywhere else, and started to follow the tagging which marked out the trail. The bushes got really dense as I made my way up out of the crater then opened out onto a neat path on some smooth rock which climbed so steeply I was soon using hand-holds to pull myself upwards. I stopped a few times to look back at the view of the crater with its lake below, I smiled to myself as I realised what an amazing place this was to be racing and tried to take in as much as possible before I pushed on and up.

Maderas crater lake (pic by Amy Sproston)

This was new territory for me, I had been up the previous section but returned the same way on my recce, and it was also starting to become really technical with my arms working constantly now as I was almost climbing through the trees following route markers around the rim of the crater. The wind was blowing quite strongly now and every now and then I would get a view down through the trees and bushes just to remind me that I was on a very narrow ridge and a slip here would be very dangerous. Eventually the descent started and I found my rhythm as the terrain became more runnable, changing as I descended to banana trees and coffee plants as I got lower down. I was also becoming aware of the heat and how much I needed a drink so I started to run really hard thinking if I give a big push here I can refuel at the aid station. I was now back on the flat and had passed a few unlikely looking buildings as I looked around for the aid station, surely it must be near I thought. I passed some locals on the trail and shouted "Merida", the name of the aid station, and they pointed back up the trail. I had missed it and my drop bag with food, drinks and shoe change. Should I turn back? No way! I'll just have to survive in the fell shoes and find somewhere to buy some supplies. I carried on for about 20 mins and as the sun burnt down I could feel I was getting really dehydrated and starting to feel like if I didn't get a drink soon I'd be reduced to a walk. Just then I saw a small shop manned by a couple of kids, maybe about 8 years old. I ran over and shouted "agua y cola!" at the startled wee boy as I stood dripping sweat everywhere fumbling for my money. I also bought a homebaked biscuit and managed to eat it by chewing it along with mouthfulls of water and swallowing the mixture back, the kids were enjoying the display of terrible table manners from the muddy, sweaty, smelly gringo! "Muchos gracias!" I shouted as I fled back to the trail feeling brand new again.

The trail

The next miles were spent running from one side of the trail to the other trying to catch all the shade I could, shouting "buenos dias" and "hola" as I passed bemused locals. One guy on a motor-bike even stopped and offered to go and get water and bring it back to me, I wished I'd seen him earlier! After another few miles Abi, one of the race organisers, passed in a pick-up and stopped to give me some water and gels what a lifesaver that was. Soon after that I hit the paved road and was flying again and kept the pace going all the way to Altagracia (68k) where the next aid station was, I wasn't going to miss this one! By the time I got there the faster pace meant I didn't feel like eating anything and had to concentrate not to throw up. I managed a gel and some energy drink (which to my amusement is called Heed, you have to be Scottish to understand!) but there was nothing funny about the way my stomach felt as I left the aid stop.

After Altagracia the route followed trails which deteriorated more and more until it looked more like a river bed I was running on. It was at this point that I needed to go to the toilet... and quick! I looked around and there was a big banana plantation on my right so I negotiated the barbed wire and got on with, er, business... it's not every race you stop for a dump under a banana tree! I also managed to drop my watch somewhere at this point because it had been clipped to my bag strap and fallen off when I removed it, I wasn't going without it because it had all my splits on it and I'm sad that way, so I hunted about everywhere wasting a good bit of time in the process before I found it.

It wasn't long before I'd passed through the next aid station and was on my way up Concepcion. I still felt strong as I passed locals on horses moving some cattle along the trail and soon I was into the full climb through a real jungle-like environment I even saw a White Faced monkey only a few feet away in the trees, I heard something hit the ground near me and wasn't sure if it was throwing things at me or just knocking bits of the tree off as it moved, I wasn't hanging about to check! I emerged out of the trees at the 1000 metre point, which was as far up as was deemed safe to go on an active volcano, to see the lone aid station guy who, to my relief had water and gels. Since I had no Spanish and he no English he drew a very good map of the route back in the dirt and with that we shook hands and I started the run back down. This is where the route doubles back on itself and I passed Amy, Arturo and Pete on their way up (no Nica!?). It was starting to feel like I was heading for home now, so with a gel in my bag and full bottles I confidently gave it all I had as I hit the flat sandy trails heading for Moyogalpa and the finish. At one point I thought I'd made a mistake emptying all but a couple of mouthfuls of water as the trail just went on and on but eventually I arrived in the town and sprinted as hard as I could to the finish.

It was a strange feeling sitting at the finish line after 11 hours 40 minutes, elated to have come first but sad to be at the end of my adventure.

Josue, the race organiser greeted me with a hug, and I thanked him for the race.

This event has got to be one of the most exciting and unique races I've ever had the pleasure of taking part in, and the work it must have taken to organise I can't begin to imagine. Josue really stuck his neck out putting this event on and it's people like him who keep this sport very much alive so I just want to take this opportunity to say thanks to him and all the volunteers who made this happen. Well done to you all.

P.s I later found out the Nica guy was doing the 50k... so THAT'S why he went out so fast!!

** Update ** Here it is, folks... the musical slideshow!!

Fuego y Agua Update

2008-12-18T11:54:00.004-03:00

Just got back home, had an amazing time in Nicaragua, the 100k was an incredible experience with a route like nothing I have ever experienced before.

I had the honour of coming in first place in a time of 11 hours 40 mins. I will post a race report shortly.

At the finish line of Fuego y Agua.
(Photo by Josue Stephens)

Yeehaa... Every Day's a Sunday...

2008-11-21T18:28:00.003-03:00

... Well for the next three and a half weeks anyway!

I'm off to Nicaragua tomorrow for the 100k, checked the local weather it's in the mid 80's at the moment so will be a shock to the system. I'm also missing the Round Rotherham 50... but I'm trying not to think about that.

I've had a stinker of a cold all week so haven't managed much running apart from a 20 miler on the roads last night and a 10 miler in the hills tonight so I'm feeling a bit under-trained! But this one is more for the adventure than the competitive side of things so I'm not going worry too much.

So... I'm off, if you don't hear from me I'm probably jogging up a volcano somewhere... (not Arthurs Seat).

Bog Eating, Cross-Dressing and Christiano Ronaldo

2008-11-17T13:41:00.001-03:00

I'm finding it increasingly difficult to call my running training anymore. It's becoming more like maintaining fitness or maybe even surviving! The 24 hour has hit me hard, I could probably have done with an extra weeks rest but too late now there's a 100k to do in less than 4 weeks time!

So, I rested for 8 days after Tooting then got in an easy 40 mile/7000' week (hills again yeehaa!) with no long run. Followed that with a 67 mile 9500' week including a 3 mile time trial (18 mins, exactly the same as the one 3 weeks prior to 24hr!), Tinto Hill race (39:02, 35th) and a 21 mile long run. Then last week ended up at 44 miles 7800' only managing to run on 4 days for one reason or another.

There have been some adventures though.

Tinto was the usual fast and furious, lung bursting quad bursting affair only this year I decided to throw in some bog eating too with a spectacular bog dive on the descent.

Then, this weekend was the Vasque Ultra Series awards in the Lakes. So, Lucy and I headed down to Ambleside for the fun event at the Lakes Runner shop. It was a 90 minute score event in which there was also a prize for the best wig! So running through the town centre complete with my long blond wig was worth it in the end as I picked up the prestigous award for my Dave Lee Roth/Bon Jovi look! Then after meeting all the Kryptons we headed off to the "barn" we had hired for the weekend with an hours tour of Kendal and quite a few dead end streets beforehand (it's amazing the difference one letter of a postcode can make to a sat-nav!!). A freezing/boiling shower, some wine, a toast to all things Krypton then it was off to Wilfs to party! It was a really enjoyable night swapping race tales and discussing next years plans with people I don't normally have time or am too knackered to talk to after races, oh and a few beers were also consumed.

Dancing Krypton style

Next morning the good weather had held out so Andy (our new Krypton recruit!), Lucy and I decided to do the Kentmere Horseshoe route. It took the first climb to get myself in gear but after that the running was excellent, really getting into the descents and stopping occasionally to admire the fantastic views. It was one of those days when it was a privilege to be up there enjoying it. I also got to wear my new shoes unfortunately that is the only colour they come in so I felt like the Christiano Ronaldo of the fells until I could give them a good dook in the nearest bog to cut out the glare.

Always remember the camera... great excuse to stop on the climb and get your breath back!

Maggs Howe camping barn with the Kentmere Horseshoe behind.

Vasque Ultra-running Series Races 2009

2008-11-16T18:41:00.005-03:00

You heard it here first! The race series for 2009 is a cracker!

Short

1/3/9 Wye Ultra

22/3 Wuthering Hike

5/8 Dark & White Peak (tbc)

?/9 Pumlumon

Medium

18/4?? Calderdale

16/5??Marlborough

5/7 Osmotherly Pheonix

20/9 High Peak 40

Long

25/4 Highland Fling

9/5 Fellsman

1/8 Lakeland 100 & 50 milers

3/10 Long Mynd

Fuego Y Agua Newspaper Article

2008-11-13T10:20:00.003-03:00

Here's a great article on the FYA ( click to enlarge).

Hills, Trails and Typhoid

2008-11-04T18:16:00.003-03:00

What a cracker of a weekend it's been! A world away from the stormy weather of the OMM weekend previous.

On Saturday Oscar came up and we headed off for an easy run over Benarty Hill and out to the Lomonds. They've just finished a new path around Loch Leven which means it's possible to run this route without going onto the road. Much better since most drivers would take the opportunity to try and run you into the ditch and on the way back with a load of miles in the legs it used to get a bit hairy. What a difference now! We climbed Benarty and down into Vane Farm nature place (I'm not sure we should run through here, but there was people running here before they turned it into a twitchers place, that's my theory) then along the new path for about 4 miles before coming into Scotlandwell and climbing Bishops Hill. The views were great at the top, you could see loads of snow covered tops in the distance. I sat for a few minutes just enjoying the silence and the views while Oscar disappeared down the hill a bit mumbling something about needing a dump!
We took a slightly different route back making it a bit shorter but a bit rougher going through knee deep heather for a bit. All in all it was about 17.5 miles and 3500 feet which I was happy to have survived only two weeks after the 24 hour.

That made it about 40 miles and 6000 feet for the week, so I'm pretty much back into the regular training routine again and just need to up the miles for a couple of weeks before going to Nicaragua for the 100k.

There was a bit of a spanner thrown in the works yesterday though. I was due at the doctors for some pre- trip vaccinations so cycled the couple of miles to the surgery not realising I was late. When I got there the crabbit nurse wasn't too keen to give me my jags since I was a whopping 5 mins late! Standing there with my (remaining) hair sticking up, red face and windswept look I decided just to stand in silence and hope she would think I was another mental person and best not to mess... it worked! She told me to hurry along to the chemist next door, pick up the bag of diseases and get my butt into her room asap. So now 24 hours or so after having tropical diseases ( hep A + E I kept calling it... and she thought I was a mental person??!) injected into me I'm feeling a bit out of sorts. My arms feel like lead and after an easy 7 miler tonight my legs feel like they've done an OMM in the rain!

Back to hard training....

If I can't get over this wee dose of typhoid and hep A+E soon then the bigger mileage week I've got planned isn't going to happen.

A week on from Tooting

2008-10-27T08:20:00.004-03:00

It's been a week or so now since the 24 hour and my recovery has been pretty good, no lasting niggles or injuries to report.

I have been going over the race a lot in my head and have got the full splits now, which make interesting reading (if you're an anorak like me!)

My 100 mile time was 17:58:08, 100K 9:45:50 and 200K was 22:41:07.

When I look at the second placed runners splits I was ahead of him until 120K at 12 hours+ then he carried on with his consistent pace while I slowed down so maybe my pacing was a bit out, plenty to think about for next time. Talking of next-time I'm looking for another 24 hour event in the early part of next year not sure what there is but I think I might have to go to Europe to find one.

While plotting and planning various races for next year I've realized my hill races are becoming very few and far between. I plan to do Tinto in a couple of weeks time, then next year the only one I really want to do is Stuc a Chroin because it was my first ever hill race (I think it was my first ever race of any kind in fact) back in 1998, what an introduction to racing! I remember I went home afterwards and had to go straight to bed! I'm sure I'll fit a few others in as well, though.

So the focus is going to be on ultras again next year with the excellent Vasque series making up the bulk of the races and hopefully I can get into the High Peak Marathon again (deceptively named since it's 40 miles and I remember more peat(bogs) than peaks!) another race I said I would NEVER do again, it was pure hell all the way... but if I can just do a bit more of this and a bit less of that I could maybe shave a few minutes off here..... yes, when that "but" leaves my mindset I'll know it's time to hang up the racing shoes and get a good pair off plodding shoes instead! Until then I'll still be weighing my Go Bars and cutting the bottoms off my trousers to save a few grams.... I'm waffling now, time to get back to some running!

P.S Thanks to everyone for the comments and the emails I recieved about the race.

24 Hour Party People

2008-10-24T09:36:00.007-03:00

For someone who usually seeks out fresh air and solitude in the hills and mountains, who relishes the challenges of tough terrain, who loves the pre-race course recce and then the challenge of getting around on that knife edge of minimal food, drink and kit, the Sri Chinmoy 24 Hour Race at Tooting Bec athletics track seems a strange choice for an adventure

Photo courtesy of www.srichinmoyraces.org/uk

The challenge is simple, to run as many circuits of the 400 metre track as possible in 24 hours starting 12 noon on Saturday. No climbs, no rough terrain, no navigating, no kit to carry, no coos, support every 400 metres, floodlights at night... easy!? That's what I thought when I ran this race in 2006 after a dream West Highland Way race and boy was I proved wrong. I suffered a lot. My preparations were poor, in terms of race specific training and also nutrition and I really just didn't know what it was all about.

I entered this time because I wanted to see if I could meet the very different challenges of 24 hour running. I felt I was too much in my comfort zone on the hills and trails, I'm by no-means a master but it was becoming a bit routine and my coo whispering skills are now well honed. A 24 hour isn't like a "normal" race, when the going gets tough you can't tell yourself to push harder and get to the finish quicker. There are no hills to climb to change the pace and give you a chance to eat, it is much more of a blank canvas where you have to wrestle with the voice in your head giving you reasons to stop all the time..

The start line of a 24 hour race is a strange place, everyone with their own thoughts of what lies ahead, I just kind of mingled in and then we were off. After about 150 metres I passed my support team for the first of 500 and odd times and gave them the thumbs up, which became my signal for each time I passed unless I needed something then instructions were shouted and I was duly serviced as required. I had originally planned to run unsupported since I felt I had asked so many people to help me out this year that I couldn't ask anyone to give up four days and sit at the side of a track for fun! So when I was asked by Lynne if I would like her, Russell and Lesley to come with me I was delighted. Lynne had ran at Perth 24 hour a few weeks before so she knew exactly what I was going to be feeling and Lesley and Russell were very experienced at race support so I knew I was in good hands.

In preparing for this I had to decide on how I would pace it. My problem was that because all my races previously had involved hills so had my training, so, after UTMB I had two weeks rest then started clocking up miles on the roads and tracks locally trying to run on as flat and consistent terrain as possible. This was much harder than I had thought, give me 2 1/2 hours on the hills every day no problem, but an hour and a half on the roads I was finding really tough. I realized that I didn't have enough time to turn myself into a flat runner churning out the same pace hour upon hour so had to work out another strategy. I decided I would have to replicate my pacing in a race like the WHW where I would go out fast then slow down for a bit when it got to Conic Hill then speed up again till past Rowardennen and then hopefully I would find my natural pace after that.

The first few hours of the race were hard, I felt sore and just couldn't get comfortable but eventually I seemed to settle into it and after twelve hours I had covered I think about 75 miles. This was when it started to get tough. Between about midnight and 6am I got slower and slower, Adrian gave me a pep talk at one point telling me to adjust my posture and basically stand up straight! I was really struggling. Then at about 5.45 am I passed 100 miles. This gave me a huge lift and I had a moment similar to this years WHW race when I just relaxed and started to pick up the pace until I was running 400 metre splits of about 2 mins to 2:10 and hammering around. I was reborn! The more I kept this going the more I started to believe I could do it and I was flying round for a good couple of hours before I inevitably slowed again. This burst had given me belief though, that even when I felt like I was finished with nothing left it was only a temporary feeling and I could overcome it if I willed my mind to will my body to will my legs just a bit further...

Pic courtesy of www.srichinmoyraces.org/uk

The one part of my body I couldn't exercise my will over was my stomach. I had found it difficult to eat solids from about 8 hours and was existing on Complan, soup, coke and the odd biscuit. I had also started to get really bad stomach cramps at times and felt really sick too, this was worrying because I've never been sick before in a race and knew it would be hard to get energy back into me if I puked. What kept me going, though, was the 200k that I needed to achieve as the qualifying standard to run for Scotland at the Commonwealth Championships next year. It was amazing the amount of people who were willing me on from the sidelines to achieve it, I knew I could do it and there was no way I wasn't going to get that 200k!
I think it was about 10:45am when with tears in my eyes I punched the air as I ran through 200k, the marquee full of lap counters giving me a huge cheer as I passed, could I ride on this crest for another 10k or so and get over 130 miles? I kept up the intensity but I was slowing down again and starting to really feel sick. Then at about 11:15am my stomach said no more and I started to wretch and throw up in a big way. All the liquid in my stomach came up until there was nothing left and I felt a little better so carried on around the circuit for about another 3 laps then I slowed to a walk then a stagger then I knew my race was over. I stumbled the 200 metres like a Saturday night drunk back to my support and sat down and hoped I could manage a small piece of food to get me going again but there was no way, I just felt so nausea's that there was no chance I could stomach anything so I sat in my chair on the track and waited for the finish.

Starting to look like an old wifie at the tatties!

Pic courtesy of www.srichinmoyraces.org/uk

127 miles 1119 yards was the total in the end. I'm absolutely delighted with it and have learnt so much from this race.

Thanks to my support Lynne, Russell and Lesley if it wasn't for you guys I couldn't have done it. Also big thanks to Adrian and Alan you guys kept me going with encouragement and banter all the way, also everyone from Sri Chinmoy who put so much effort into organising a fabulous race with a great atmosphere and those lap counters... they think we're mad??!!

Self Transcendence 24 Hour race - Quick Update

2008-10-20T16:23:00.004-03:00

I broke the 200k mark at Tooting Bec track yesterday clocking a final total of 127 miles 1119 yards. I'm very pleased and very tired... report to follow!

Ultramaraton Fuego Y Agua

2008-10-08T08:06:00.006-03:00

I've now had my entry confirmed and booked the flights for this wee adventure, Fuego y Agua 100K in Nicaragua on the 13th of December.

It's a 100K race around Omotepe Island, a volcanic island on Lake Nicaragua. The course is a mixture of dirt tracks, jungle and sandy beaches... then there's the climbs...!

The first volcano, reached after 30k, is the dormant Volcan Maderas which is 1394 metres and the second, reached after 80k is the, still active, Volcan Concepcion at 1610 metres (it last showed some movement in 2005, throwing out ash but never erupted). The climbs don't go right up to the craters for safety reasons but the total ascent is about 2900 metres.

Volcan Maderas (Top) and Volcan Concepcion

Anyone know where I can get heat proof soles for my Inov8's??!

Wan Can Dan, High Peak Mystery Tour and Other Stories...

2008-09-29T17:33:00.007-03:00

Lots to catch up on since last time, I've been out watching other peoples adventures and having some of my own too.

The week after Mont Blanc I went up to Fort William to watch the Ben Nevis race. It was a bit different this year because there was a load of entries from abroad since it was included in this years Buff Skyrunning World Championship. There seemed to be a larger than usual contingent of local girlys watching the race, apparently disappointed there was no-one running in the buff. You could spot the foreign boys a mile off though in their long socks and fancy lycra gear, it seemed to do the job too since there was about 11 of them in the top 20. As a result I went and bought a pair of these Skins shorts, they make no difference whatsoever but I look like I know what I'm doing now and my arse doesn't wobble about anymore. Afterwards we went to Morrisons and picked up some bargains for tea which we cooked up on the wee stove in the campsite, thus filling our bellies so we could cope with a beer or two. Unfortunately I had my " wan-can-Dan" head on so didn't feel too good the next day and also managed to get us lost on the way back from the pub with my "short-cut" on the Great Glen Way.

Oscar in the pub with his race number on!

NB. This photo is actual size

The Perth Ultra Festival was on the following weekend so I went along to watch some of it. I arrived about 5pm on the Saturday and everyone was going along quite steadily after 7 hours of running. The 100k had been going for 5 hours and was starting to hot up but I had to leave for a wedding reception so missed the end. On Sunday I was up at Perth again about 7am (no wan-can-Dan, it was mineral water for me... never again!) what a difference, most were walking for large parts of the laps and only a few were running steadily. It was amazing to watch everyone fighting their individual battles and some fantastic runs from the Carnegie Lassies with Gail taking ladies 100k champion, Pauline breaking the Scottish 24 hour record again and Lynn and Fiona posting brilliant 24hr debuts of 125 and 116 miles respectively. After the prizegiving I left feeling really inspired, I think it's got to be one of the best events I've ever spectated at, amazing!

So, suitably inspired and only a bit rested after UTMB I headed down to run the High Peak 40 so as to complete the Vasque Ultra series.

It's a great race, 40 miles of hills, roads and trails. I've done it twice before so knew what to expect. Pity I hadn't remembered the route though! After about 7 miles me and two other runners took a wrong turn, dropped a hundred feet or so in height and headed up through a field which we thought was the right way until we saw all the runners away in the distance on the other hill. So, we ran back up and after losing about 20 places got back on track. I made the mistake of hammering on too hard to try to catch my place back up and after about 30 minutes I was feeling pretty rough. At the 20 mile mark I was ready to chuck it, I had slowed right down and felt terrible. I knew, though, that if I chucked it I'd have to drive to Wales the next week to do the only other race to qualify me for the series so that kept me going. I was caught by a few runners before Flyin' Brian Mc came passed and we chatted for a bit which took my mind off matters of the screaming quad variety. I got into a bit of a rythmn after that and was going fine until I took yet another wrong turn! I won't forget that one in a hurry, believe me!

I finished the race in 6:58 and 12th place so it turned out ok in the end, but I was quite pleased with the way I was able to dig in when it got tough which is a good thing considering my up and coming adventures.

I've been trying to get the training upped a bit since UTMB, with all my running on the road to prepare for the Tooting 24 hour. I find it hard to get motivated though because I'm a slow road runner and I find it quite boring too. Also all the kids take the piss out of me when I wear my Skins, I thought I looked pretty cool! A plus point, though, is the coos can't get me. During the High Peak 40 I had to negotiate a few of the grumpy cud munchers, there was a big one which I'm sure growled at me. I suppose I was running through its dinner though. I ran a 3 mile time trial on Thursday with the Carnegies, which I thought was ok at 18 minutes, since I'd only had 4 days rest after HP40. On Sunday I went to the Ceres 8 road race, a hilly 8 miler (well hilly for a road race) I managed just over 52 mins, feeling pretty stretched to say the least. I got a 10 miler in last night then had a phone call from Tommy asking if I wanted to do a recce of the Pentland Skyline race. He didn't have to ask twice! Any excuse to get up the hills again! So, today we had a really enjoyable run in the sunshine and got some quality hills into the bargain... not good 24 hour training however!

Ultra Tour Du Mont Blanc - Race Report

2008-09-04T19:17:00.007-03:00

**Warning** This report contains scenes of extreme suffering!

Chamonix was buzzing. Sitting in a street cafe watching the world go by it seemed every second person had a race shirt from some far-flung ultra adorning a lean and highly trained looking physique. I was getting nervous. The race was due to start at 6:30 pm so the day would be spent relaxing, eating(a very expensive pastime here!) and trying to keep out of the hot sun as much as possible. We had lunch then headed to the park for a while. I got chatting to a guy who was running, Fabrice, a Frenchman who lived and worked in London. He was doing the race for the first time and was quite nervous as he hadn't done any training on the hills at all although he was an experienced ultra-runner. We wished each other luck, went off for more lunch, handed in my two drop bags, then it was back to the apartment/shoebox to get changed into race kit.

It was great to be in my kit and looking like all the other half starved trail dogs, I didn't feel so intimidated now. I'd arranged to meet up with another couple of Brits and we'd start the race together, you know, just in case Johnnie Foreigner started any trouble. We hung about the main street for a while trying to keep out of the sun and then with about half an hour to go we headed for the main square where the race starts. The atmosphere was electric! There was classical music blasting from huge speakers so loud it was painful, speeches were going on in French and every now and then the crowd would cheer and raise their poles in the air. It was rousing stuff. We pushed into the crowd a bit and then we were off. Going over the start line at walking pace then running for a bit until it slowed to a walk again then after a bit we were off and running.

I had been a bit worried about an ankle injury which had been niggling for a while and sure enough it started aching almost straight away. I was getting into my stride now and pushing through the crowds, dodging trekking poles as I went, with Iain, one of the Brits pushing on too. The first aid station, Les Houches, was like a scrum, I quickly grabbed a drink and carried on as the road started to climb and climb up to the top at La Charme and then a fast descent to Saint Gervais. Running down the hill the sound of cow bells ringing and crowds cheering signalled that there was a party in full swing and what a party! They were three deep at the roadside barriers checking out the names on the runners numbers and shouts of "allez, allez Richard!" and "bravo, bravo!" had me upping the pace to the food tables. A few biscuits and it was sadly time to leave the party and head off into the dark. This was repeated at Les Contamines with huge,cheering crowds lining the streets again then it was into the night and the climb up to Croix du Bonhomme.

Something struck me fairly early in the race, which was how well the course is marked. Every 50 metres or so there is a luminous marker to lead the way, not just on the tricky parts but on the whole course, all 100+ miles of it! Meaning you can concentrate on the running and the route finding is easy.

I was starting to concentrate on the pain from my ankle. It was getting pretty sore so I took a couple of Brufens and hoped this would do the trick. Iain was out of sight now and I felt like I was going quite slow although I was pushing hard and sweating buckets as it was still warm. The route climbed and climbed more (this was a recurring feature!) and my stomach started to ache now too. I hadn't eaten much so far and I knew this wasn't a good idea but I didn't want to force myself this early on as I thought my stomach might settle on its own. Looking behind and down the hill into the distance was an amazing sight, a huge long headtorch snake stretching out into the night and bobbing around as it chased me up the hill (no I wasn't hallucinating... yet!)

I made a big mistake in preparing for this race, a big amateur mistake. I had a brainstorm one day and decided to change my energy drink from the tried and tested formula which I've used for years now with no problems. The only difference was this one came in sachets which made it easier to carry and mix. I stupidly hadn't tested it on the run and after about 2 bottles of it I was gagging at the taste, not good, don't try this at home kids (or on the trail!) So as a result my only source of energy was the few energy bars I had on me and the aid stations.

The first night was a bit of a blur as I'm not familiar with the course but I do remember the descent from Bonhomme being pretty rocky and steep, which took its toll on the quads, the climb up to Col de la Seigne being pretty brutal and Courmayeur just never seeming to get any closer. I was also noticing the difference not having a support team hand feeding me mashed tatties and telling me I looked brilliant, it was quite lonely not being able to speak French but the soup was good and I was doing ok putting bits of bread in it and eating the resulting mush.

The sun started to come up as I descended to Courmayeur, I still hadn't seen Iain and I wondered how he was doing, he must be having a storming race unless I'd passed him in the dark without knowing. The descent was on another ski slope, steep and quite rough in parts, the pain in my ankle was now lost amongst the bigger sea of pain washing over my lower limbs but my stomach was killing me. I reached the checkpoint at 6:30am, 12 hours gone and I felt ok considering. I got my drop bag and had a complete change of kit, then was just going to run on when I noticed everyone else seemed to be sitting down for a big plate of pasta so I thought I'd better try and eat something substantial and decided to join them. I managed to eat quite a lot before heading off and felt quite good, so I resolved to run as hard as possible out of Courmayeur and keep pushing on until the heat of the day forced me to slow. Ha! the climb out of Courmayeur soon put paid to that! It was brutal, about 3000 feet in 4k so I just slogged it out. I remembered Hugh Kerr telling me that after the climb there was a section of about 12k of good runnable trail so once getting to the top I decided to go for it and ran hard all the way into Arnuva. When I got to the checkpoint I was trashed, I ate some soup and bread and drank loads of coke to fend of the dehydration which was a whisker away. At most of the aid stations I had met the French guy Fabrice who I'd chatted to before the race and we had a moan about how hard this was then headed off together for the monster climb to Grand Col Ferret at 2537 metres, the highest point on the course. The sun was beating down by this point and after about 50 metres of climb I was in a bad way. Fabrice was going much better than me up the hill so I decided it was time to admit defeat. My quads were in agony, calfs screaming and I was hardly moving up the way at all. No... I wasn't giving up... it was time to get the poles out! I started up the hill again with the poles and immediately noticed the difference, it took so much weight off the legs it was unbelievable. We made good time up to the top and I felt much better now, as we passed the tents at the top I saw Iain lying in the shade behind one of them. He said he was finished and was going to pack it in at the next check point so I tried to encourage him to keep going, to get down and maybe sit for a few hours and eat some food and rest then try and get going again. We all started the big descent to La Fouly together, I felt good again so hit the pace but I saw Iain behind struggling and feared he wasn't going to finish. La Fouly took ages to come and I was really in need of water when I got there. Fabrice arrived shortly after and I asked him if it was hot or was it just me, he reckoned it was 30+ degrees, it was hard to tell which shows how disorientated I was getting.

The aid station stops were getting longer now, I had my head in my hands as we looked at the map, another 60k still to go and about 9000 feet of ascent, I said to Fabrice we should concentrate on getting to Champex and forget about the rest, it was only 15k away so if we made good time we'd be doing well. I managed to eat some soup and a few bits of banana and some raisins, washed down with about a gallon of coke and off we went.

It took three hours to get to Champex. The climb went on forever and as usual the checkpoint was at the far side of town just to drag out the suffering a bit more. I was really hungry as I approached the aid tent, almost to the point of collapse, I needed a drink of coke very badly too. The party was in full swing here though, and as I entered the tent a guy shot over to me, said something in French and stuck a microphone in my face! Everyone looked at me and I looked at the guy confused and said grumpily " I don't speak French" he replied, "Ah! English! How do you enjoy the Mont Blanc?" "Scottish, and it's too hot and I'm starving" was my reply. He then realised I wasn't up for much of an interview and left me to my suffering.

I got some pasta and sat down at a table trying to eat when James, another Brit came over and chatted. He was in a bad way too, and told me how hard it was going to get! Then Fabrice came in and joined us and we just tried to eat as much as we could stomach. After about 20 minutes we got up to go and Fabrice ran off to a bin and threw up. As I asked him if he was ok, a doctor came over and told him he must lie down for a bit before he would let him leave the tent so I headed off on my own.

I soon caught up with James and we climbed to Bovine together, the views were fantastic as the sun went down, it gave me a real lift. As we started to descend James was staggering all over the place and told me to go on ahead. I felt ok and held onto a couple of guys running down so made quite good time. I think I must have passed about three runners lying at the side of the trail sleeping it was quite bizarre.

It was pitch dark by the time I got to Trient. I was feeling really down. I sat for ages with my head on the table then drank some coke and had some soup. Trient was mental, there was a party in full swing with a bar on one side of the tent and on the other there was runners lying all over the place, sleeping, puking and looking thoroughly miserable! I was thinking Fabrice must have pulled out when just then he came into the tent, my spirits lifted right away and we discussed how we "only" had two climbs to go and if we stuck together we could finish this race!

Off we went into the darkness again, there was no messing about here as we went straight into a really steep climb. I was getting really tired now and the shadows were playing crazy tricks on me. I kept thinking I saw sheep at the side of the track, I'd see writing on the ground and at one point I'd convinced myself I was walking on snow and I was trying not to slip! Fabrice was pushing hard though, so I kept with him and soon we were onto the descent into Vallorcine.

Vallorcine was very quiet, I suppose it was 1:20am, but they had a patio heater on and it was nice and cozy. There was another couple of British guys there who looked as bad as us, we chatted briefly ate some soup and then left for the final climb.

As we left Vallorcine I was really struggling to stay awake. It felt like my vision was crossing over and I was getting really confused. I said this to Fabrice and he said he was the same, thoughts would come into my head and take on a life of their own until the chatter got so crazy and confusing I thought I was going to explode! Meanwhile Fabrice was in a bad way. When I spoke to him he didn't seem to hear me, and he was stopping a lot to puke as well. We just kept moving forward though, as long as we kept moving we'd get there.

The climb up to Tete aux Vents was torture. It was really steep with high steps to negotiate and it looked like there was a long way to fall if I wobbled the wrong way. This focussed our minds and we made good progress following the bobbing headtorches away above us. Fabrice was still puking but he was keeping up the pace, so I hoped we could get to the aid station soon and get some food to keep us going to Chamonix. After a bit the ground levelled out a bit and there were massive boulders to negotiate over the top, this was hard going because I couldn't seem to co-ordinate my footing in my state of confusion, I just followed the group in front and hung on. Eventually we got to the aid station, I sat down had some soup and next thing I remember was being wakened up by Fabrice saying "come on, lets go" I'd fallen asleep for a couple of minutes.

It was getting light as we descended down the ski slope towards Chamonix, I was enjoying picking lines to follow and it passed the time. It then turned into much better forest trails and people were coming up from Chamonix looking for their friends and shouts of encouragement "bravo", "courage" and "allez, allez" had us breaking into a jog as we sensed the end getting near. I remember looking up at Mont Blanc, this massive mountain dominating the skyline, and realising I had almost completed this crazy journey all the way around it. It was quite some feeling!

As we passed some people they shouted to us it was 1.5k to the finish, our jog became a proper run, and soon we were on the main street, people shouting encouragement, around a few bends and there it was, the finish line at last!

What an incredible journey!

What amazing people and places I'd seen in the last 36 hours 53 minutes and 37 seconds. Thanks to everyone who helped and encouraged me, you know who you are.

Will I be there next year? Try and stop me!!

UTMB Update

2008-09-02T16:56:00.005-03:00

36 hours 53 minutes 37 seconds

It was tough!

Here's the pictures, report to follow...............

Bonjour mon petit filous!!

2008-08-25T10:19:00.011-03:00

Hey dudes pour le trail!

This will be my last post before heading off to Chamonix to tackle the Ultra Tour du Mont Blanc. This is LE GRANDE one!

Sh***ing it??...not me!!.......much.........

The last couple of days have been spent weighing all my gear piece by piece and trying to save a few grams here and there, I even cut a foot off the bottom of my trouser legs to save about 50 grams (that's almost a whole Go-bar) also some very complex calculations to ascertain if the highly technical Go-Bars are a better fuel than the teuchter performance enhancer and national dish, Shortbread. After much frothing over a calculator the sassenach Go-bars won out by a narrow margin. Its a real dillema though, because this will be my first long race without a wee tootie o' shortie to look forward to mid race, I'm gambling with a tried and tested formula here! It sounds like most of the aid stations are well stocked with goodies though, so I'm going to take the chance. Hope it's not all Fromage Frais and Petit Filous!!

I had another practice with the poles too which drew some funny looks as I ran up the street the other day. Just running in these parts is strange behaviour, unless you have a Polis van in hot pursuit, and usually if you're on foot it's only because your wee mini scooter has broken down. Anyway, I headed up Benarty Hill and gave them a good work-out and came to the conclusion that, in the race, I'll fold them up and keep them in my rucksack until I'm in such a state that I need them to keep me upright.

I was going through the compulsory kit list, stuff which must be carried or else, and was surprised to see "tight fitting pants" listed, I hope the locals are ready for this!

So, eight months training is in the bank, I'm tapered to the stage of insanity (chewing the door-frames stage) I can speak some more of La Francais (Je suis bloody knackered, comment beaucoup plus loin??!! Avez-vous des shortbread?? Sont mes pantalons serrés!!) and my tight pants weigh 37 grams, I hope they don't get any heavier.......!

My race number is 3266 you can follow my progress live here from 1730 hrs BST Friday 29th.

Only five dinners to go.......

Wish me luck mes amis!

Ooh la la!

Want to be my best pal.....?

2008-08-23T08:08:00.009-03:00

These guys can have honorary "Best Pal" status in the Sunday Adventure Club for this stunt. "Best Pal" status means full use of the SAC Grifter and the secret code for the Ganghut.

The Grifter.

For security reasons this picture was not taken in the Ganghut .

A Devil Of A Morning!

2008-08-11T17:47:00.007-03:00

Devil O' the Highlands 43 mile race

I was glad to get the climb out of Kinlochleven behind me, lots of walkers to negotiate on the narrow path, the rain hammering down and my empty stomach threatening revolt at any minute. As the long winding track came into view ahead I started to think about times and it dawned on me for the first time that I could do sub 6 hours. I couldn't quite believe it at first, I checked to make sure my watch wasn't broken, went over the numbers a few times... if I got to Lundavra in 5 hours I knew I could run to the Fort in an hour but I had to shift some!

Rewind just over 4 1/2 hours to Tyndrum where I'd given my support my splits for a 6:50 (which I secretly hoped to make a 6:40!). A few minutes at the start line then we were off, straight away a group formed at the front of 5 runners so I hung back in 6th with the intention of easing into this one. Not to be! The pace was quick and I had to match it or lose places but I felt ok so went with it. Through Bridge of Orchy and over the hill to Inveroran then onto the stretch of road where I stepped on the gas and caught up a bit on the group by the stile at Forest Lodge. Now onto Rannoch Moor, always my worst section, and today was going to be no different. Last week at Borrowdale I had clattered my ankle a few times on the rocks and after Sunday in the hills it was quite swollen and sore but had eased by mid-week so I hadn't given it another thought. Unfortunately it had started to get really painful with all the impact and it was causing me to slow down a bit. Then George Cairns passed me and I tried to hang on but he was too fast for me, so it was dig-in till Glencoe and hope a brufen could kill the pain. It worked a treat, by the time I got to the Staircase I was upping the pace again, running and walking a nice rythmn up the climb. I looked down below and saw John Kennedy maybe about 5 minutes behind and looking strong so I had to push it on the descent or he was going to catch me. A mouthful of raisins at the top then I let go and ran as hard as I could enjoying the rock-hopping and technical bits as I got nearer to the building at the top of the Kinlochleven descent, then I really let go, getting from there to the checkpoint in 17 minutes which I was pretty chuffed with. I forced myself to eat a finger of shortbread (aka Teuchter Rocketfuel!) and I was off. I caught up with the runner in front just before Lundavra after seeing Murdo MacEwan and his words of encouragement (!!) then caught the next guy just after Lundavra. Only problem was being so far ahead of schedule my support weren't there yet but I wasn't for stopping anyway so it was ok (Val and Fiona you were fantastic! I won't tell Tommy, I promise!).
5 hours exactly at Lundavra. My WHW split from there to the finish was 1:14 so I knew with 50 miles less in the legs sub 6 was definitely achievable but there was no room to ease off at all so the plan was to keep it nice and solid until the descent on the forest track where I would give it everything to the finish. I reached the Braveheart car park with 10 minutes to spare and as I sprinted round the corner and saw the finish I felt really emotional, NEVER would I have believed I could have ran sub 6!

5:55:34 to be exact and 5th place, all in a mornings work! It was an amazing set of results with seven of us inside the previous course record, I think we all just forced each other to run out of our skins. I'm paying for it today though, my body aches all over and I'm walking like a real cowboy!

Thanks to Fiona Rennie for the photos

Gail, me, Lynn and Stephen

Finishing Straight

Wow!

Cairngorms, Ullapool, Borrowdale and Ben Lui

2008-08-03T19:53:00.008-03:00

W/c 28/7 Totals

74 miles

24460' ascent

18:35 hrs

Have been around and about this week.

Tuesday I ran up Glen Squaib to the col below Ben dearg, nr Ullapool, and back.

Wednesday I met Victor and went up from the ski car park over to Ben Macdui where we met a mad German family at the summit all wearing jeans and trainers, Dad with can of lager in hand! The clag had come in and we were trying to explain to them how to get back and how easy it was to get lost, after about 10 minutes we felt they got the message and off we went and promptly got lost! Eventually we got back on track and went over Cairn Lochan and the other wee tops back to Cairngorm then had a competitive descent back down to the car park and jumped in the burn for the Cairngorm sauna effect.

Saturday was the Borrowdale Fell Race(pics by Rob Stephens HERE). My first time and what a cracker of a race! Loads in it; rugged scrambly bits, bog, scree running, some pretty hairy descents and some quad burning climbs. I had a good start, going well until Scafell then it all went badly wrong. Not sure what line to take off the summit, I followed a group who looked like they knew what they were doing. They did. They promptly shot off into the mist leaving me scrabbling over big, wet, slippy rocks and wondering where to go next. I chose the wrong way and watched as about 30 people shot passed below and by the time I got back on track I'd lost loads of places. So, down the scree run I plunged... well, ponced, like a girly as all the real men disengaged their brains and hurtled down at speed, another dozen places disappeared into the mist! I decided I would just take my time on the tricky bits and hammer the climbs. It was going ok as I picked up some places and felt pretty strong, then after Great Gable a "helpful" chap pointed me and a couple of guys in the best direction of travel and 10 minutes later we descended out of the mist to see lots of runners on the hill above us heading in the other direction. Back on track again, a steep descent then a massive climb up Dale Head, some knee crunching descending and over the finish line in 3:57, great fun!!
I sat about in the sun at the finish and then Oscar came in and we watched the highly amusing prizegiving. It was starting to look like some serious beer-drinking was going to take place so Oscar and I, being lads of a sensible nature, decided to hit the road with a pit-stop for fish suppers in Longtown.

Sunday I met up with Lucy and Matt and headed up to run the Ben Lui group of munros. We left the shelter of the van and headed off into the pouring rain feeling none too enthusiastic. It cleared pretty soon though and we knocked of Ben Dubhcraig, Ben Oss, Ben Lui, Beinn a' Chlieb and Ben Lui again to round off an 18 mile and 6600' day, then it was into Tyndrum for more heart-attack food!

Latest Adventures

2008-07-28T19:40:00.003-03:00

Stats out the way first...

W/c 21/7/8 totals

60 miles
19200' ascent
12:03 hrs of running

Ben Rinnes 5 Tops Hill Race 15 miles 4900'

26/7

I was looking forward to this race all week, it's a great course with a good mix of rough heather bashing and then a good trail to the summit of Ben Rinnes, which you then return on making a really fast, bone-shaking descent.

It was scorching hot at the start-line in the Dufftown highland games field, a big crowd this year for all the events with loads of tourists no doubt wondering what it was all about. The announcer held back a bit this year, not quite calling us "the worlds top hillrunners" but gave us a big send off all the same!

The pace was quite quick to start and I felt pretty knackered straight away, I knew it was going to be hard because I've done so little running in any real sort of heat I'm just not used to it so just dug in and found a rythmn. Also the course was devilishly marked with flags leading into all the boggy stuff, one really nasty bit had me in up to my knee and Victor lost his shoe and a few minutes trying to extract it. I never felt like I got going until the last couple of miles when I took a few places and ran in quite strong, having to dodge the pipe band on the way round the track was a novelty too! Then as I staggered around trying to keep my legs moving at the finish I heard loads of shouting and looked up to see that I had wandered out right in line with the hammer thrower who had to make an emergency stop mid "swing"! He didn't look to chuffed and I swiftly merged into the crowd ... I was surprised to see in the results I came in 10th too, so quite pleased with that.

Sundays adventures were of a different kind, doing a bit of marshalling at the Donkey Brae race in Aberdour. Well not quite marshalling, I was given the job of going in front of the runners on my bike to lead them around the course, sounds easy but these guys run fast! My quads were already thrashed from Ben Rinnes and the leading runner almost caught up with me a couple of times!

Then a change of scenery at the Big Tent Festival in Falkland with some great music and some time spent eating tasty cherries off the trees in the grounds of Falkland estate... I just can't resist the berries!

Today work had brought me up to the Teuchters, so an evening in the Cairngorms running in the sunshine went down a treat. Parked at the ski car park, went up Cairngorm then over Ben Macdui and down the other side to the col with Carn a' Mhaim and then climbed back up Macdui and returned the same way. I then sat in the burn for a bit to cool the legs off and as I was going back to my car I bumped into a fellow whw competitor and ultra runner on his holidays, small world!

Stats...

28/7

14.8 miles

5200' ascent

3:42

Today I Am Normal

2008-07-25T16:41:00.000-03:00

Today I was like a normal person; No running so I can have a good run at Ben Rinnes tomorrow. Instead I ate a lot of crisps and broccoli. Superfoods, well maybe not the crisps but its all about balance, the ying and the yang n' all that.
Here's a link to todays top news story, don't miss this!

http://www.dailystar.co.uk/news/view/45251/The-real-salt-and-Lineker/

Yesterdays training:-

3.2 miles
730' ascent
34mins

A short dash up Benarty hill and back via some trail.

An Evenings Cattle Rustling

2008-07-23T19:59:00.000-03:00

23/7 15 miles, 2630' ascent, 2:21

Headed over Benarty Hill and decided to go Coo dodging again on the way up to Blairadam Forest. It was an out and back job with some battling through nettles and bramble bushes and a few stops to eat blaeberries which are covering the hill now, I must remember my tupperware dish next-time. I have to cross a field to get into the forest and the last-time I was charged by about 40 massive beasts who started chasing me and as they picked up speed I realised I was going to be mowed down, so I stopped and waved my hands at them and made those kind of YAARRR noises John Wayne makes in the films. This did the trick. I wasn't going to get caught-out this time though so I scampered very lightly past and the dafties didn't even notice me this time, too busy chewing that cud stuff. Anyway, the return was a different story. Daisy and her mates, bored brewing milk and whacked-up on cud stuff, had spotted me as soon as I entered the field and broke into a jog alongside me, then the rest of the dozy beasties sprang to life gathering speed just behind. I decided the only safe option was to jump the fence into the next field but this meant running through the stingiest nettles in Fife for about 400 metres, OUCH! I played it cool though for the audience in a nearby garden, trying to look like it was all part of the training running through six foot tall nettles. Why do they always pick on me??!

Some training

2008-07-22T20:30:00.000-03:00

Oops I forgot the boring stuff...

Monday 21/7

19.3 miles 5850' ascent 4:19 mins

Lomond Hills good rough run in bits with a mix of trails too (and some coo dodging), much more like a July day too!

Tuesday 22/7

9 miles 5470' ascent 2:21

Hill reps on Falkland Hill, passing walkers look at me like I'm a loony and children point at the "sweaty man"... why?!

West Highland Way Barbie like, ken...

2008-07-22T19:59:00.000-03:00

Sundays outing was of the non sporting variety, a barbie for all the Carnegie Harriers WHW runners and supporters. It was good to see everybody again and talk WHW for a whole afternoon!
The highlight was Tommy's video footage, what a laugh. I was a bit embarrassed about my mid race interview at Auchtertyre though. I look and sound like a total Fifer jakey! How I didn't get pulled out of the race I'll never know! I was slurring all my words in my best Ballingry accent whilst ramming massive spoonfuls of tattie mush into my gob. "So how have you enjoyed the race so far?" "ach, no bad, I wuz pish up Loach Lomund, ma quadz wur burst n a couldnae stuy awake likes" then I proceeded to shake hands with my early shift support crew "cheers boayz, that wuz brulliant, a couldnae done it wi' oot yiz likes"..... no wonder when I asked Jens earlier in the race... "wot d ye think aboot yaezin powulls fur Moont Blonk, then neebz??" he looked at me blankly and carried on running! It takes a lang spoon indeed!
If I can get a hold of it and work out the technology then I'll post it here (not the lang spoon, the video ya nut!), but nae laughin ya bass...

Glenmore Lodge to Devil's Point and back

2008-07-20T22:45:00.000-03:00

19/7 28.5 miles 5700'

This was supposed to be another round of the Cairngorm 4000's but bad weather meant a change of plan.
Instead I met up with Lucy, Matt and Victor (aka Colin/Bunter etc!) at Glenmore Lodge in the pouring rain and we decided to head for the Lairig Gru and see how the weather progressed. Matt headed off solo for Bynack More and Victor shot off on his own saying something about us catching him up.
We ran through the Chalamain Gap and out to Corour bothy where we finally saw Victor again as he shot back in the other direction saying something about it being too cold to hang about and he was off again. Lucy and I decided to climb the Devil's Point as the weather had improved a bit. After a swift climb we hid in the summit shelter from the icy wind and sleaty showers (yes it is July!) quickly ate some food and then hammered it back down to the bothy.
We decided that was enough for one day and ran back to Glenmore Lodge this time via Loch Morlich, made a mega quick change because of the midgies and dashed down the road to Aviemore for the shelter of the Mountain cafe for a plate of soup!

The West Highland Way Race 21st June 2008

2008-07-20T21:50:00.000-03:00

95 miles, 14 725 ft

Introduction

I need another goblet. I've got three but that doesn't look right on the table. Four will be just right, then I can move on to another challenge, put this one to bed for good. That is the plan!

Chapter 1 - First We Take Milngavie

Everything was planned to the last detail, I had trained like a madman for six months solid, raced over 300 miles in the last three months... i felt ready for it this year. So off to Milngavie we went in Mark's big white van, I jibbered non-stop all the way, a combination of nerves and too much coffee, then as we were still a fair bit from Milngavie we realised we had slightly misjudged the travelling time. It was about 12.20am when I jumped out of the van and almost ran into the town hall to register, the plan was in bits already, my brain was frazzled with coffee and I had too much to remember! I said a few quick hello's then felt bad as I ignored people in my rush to get ready. Everyone else seemed so relaxed, Kate Jenkins was chatting away, Colin "Bunter" Hutt was chillin' (takes more than a 95 mile run to faze him!) and all the Carnegie's looked so organised!

Chapter 2 - Come In Number 6, Your Time Is Up!

The race started and off we went. The plan was to get near to the front to avoid getting caught in the crowds so I shot off quite fast chatting to Kate, then a few shouts from behind and we realized we had taken the wrong track, damn. A quick detour, a sprint and we were back on the trail. Two minutes later, more shouts, lost again! It's great to be organised!It didn't take long to get into a rhythm, I went through Drymen feeling good, I must have been about 7th or 8th, and pushed up into the forest no longer needing the torch. On towards Conic Hill, this was a section I had been looking forward to, but I didn't feel too good. My quads were hurting a lot more than they should have been, I thought it was because of the cold morning air and so pushed a bit harder to try and get the blood flowing through them. As I came into the Balmaha car park I felt wrecked, only 20 miles down, I shouldn't feel this bad. I had some food then headed on for Rowardennen. This section went by quite quickly, I was running with Kate and Jens and felt quite comfortable, maybe I was through the worst. A bite to eat and a big drink of coke at Rowardennon and it was off up the loch for one of my favourite sections. The rough terrain as you go up Loch Lomond means you have to concentrate quite hard on your footing but this also means it seems to pass quite quickly so I had been looking forward to it. I had lost sight of Kate and Jens when George Cairns passed me going like a rocket, I tried to follow but it just wasn't happening. As the trail was getting rougher I was getting more and more tired and my energy levels had dropped way down, then I started to feel sick. It took all my concentration not to throw up, I felt terrible, had slowed down almost to walking pace and was tripping and kicking stones all the time as I struggled to keep my eyes open. How was I going to deal with this? I started to look around me, maybe I could lie down and get 10 minutes sleep then I'd be ok. I stopped for a second but the midges were so bad that wasn't going to be an option. Inversnaid was coming up soon, I could ask the mountain rescue guys if I could have a sleep in the back of their van! Perfect! I stumbled up the track a bit more until I realised running was out of the question, I was gone. I'd had a bit of a stomach bug the week before and had been in denial as to the fact that it might affect my race but now I was beginning to think my number was up. When I got to Inversnaid I would get the guys to give me a lift to Beinglas, I was completely done, game over. Whw 08 Dnf.
I shuffled over the bridge to the Inversnaid hotel, lowered myself down the steps and staggered over to the search and rescue guys. "Well done, you're looking great" "fantastic, dig in, your catching them up" loads of encouragement from the guys, I couldn't say what I so wanted to... "please take me home, mister..." so off I shuffled until I was out of sight then I walked again, only about 7 miles to Beinglas to meet Simon and Mark then they could take me home. I'll phone Tommy and Ryan who were due to take over support at Auchtertyre and tell them not to bother, damn, no phone signal! Next thing I heard voices behind, more runners. I was being caught-up now, a few went past then someone I recognised, it was Murdo McEwan. "What's wrong?" he said. I mumbled something about being finished and dnf ing at Beinglas before they disappeared into the distance. A few more passed then I started to think, maybe I should jog a bit because it was going to be hours to Beinglas at this rate. So I slowly jogged on until I heard more voices behind, a group of about 7 or 8 was gaining fast, I'm going to lose all those places! No chance! Quickly a jog became a trot then a real, proper run and soon I was flying (well, almost!) I caught all the people who had passed me and got to Beinglas feeling better than I had most of the race. I filled my mouth with potatoes, gulped down coke, got another bottle of juice and shot off in pursuit of the next runner. I caught another couple before reaching Auchtertyre on a mission! Game on!

Chapter 3 - The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner

I felt super-charged as I munched down more mashed tatties and ketchup, a few gulps of coke, full bottle of juice and I was off again. I was even back on schedule as I left the checkpoint! I ran through Tyndrum and up the hill then I caught sight of Kate in front. I seemed to be catching her so I pushed on, company would be nice for a bit. As I approached it was obvious she was in trouble, I gave her a few words of encouragement but I was having a good patch so was going to make the most of it while it lasted. Pushing on towards Bridge of Orchy I could see the 3rd place runner, Alan Reid, in the distance. I was starting to feel a bit "thin" with the faster pace but thought if I run out my last bits of energy and catch him up, I can get a good feed of tatties and ketchup at the checkpoint and I'll be brand new for the climb out of Bridge of Orchy. I caught him just as the trail met the road and ran hard down the hill to get my tatties. As I got in to the checkpoint I looked around for the guys... nowhere to be seen! I saw Stewart, Kate's support who said he hadn't seen them so I quickly phoned Tommy's mobile. "where are you?" I said desperately. "Er, we'll be there shortly..." was the reply. "Ok, I'm going on, meet me at the hotel further on". They had missed the turning off the road and were heading up Glencoe... oops! The great thing about this race is the camaraderie of the runners and support crews, as soon as people saw I was in trouble I was being offered all sorts of food and drink from everyone, I could have stayed and had a feast! Instead I took a bag of crisps and a bottle of water and headed on meeting Tommy and Ryan a few miles on with more much needed tatties and juice, no harm done.

Chapter 4 - Dancing on Ice

Crunch! Crunch! Crunch! Crunch! It sounded like a bunch of squaddies marching along right behind me all the way across Rannoch Moor! It was driving me loopy! I was having a hard time, the rocket fuel had run dry and the rough, stoney track was hard going. My schedule was slipping away and that bloody crunching aggghhh! Seemed like a good idea at the time to fill my camelbak with ice cubes but I should have picked up a set of ear plugs too! I was sure someone was catching me from behind too, I thought I could see a figure in the distance moving fast but I wasn't able to pick up the pace. My mood wasn't good and the going was rough again, "I'm never doing this again" I said to myself, "this is the last and I mean it this time" it was all getting rather black in the positive thinking department! Luckily I had arranged to meet Tommy and Ryan at Blackrock Cottage which is about 3/4 of a mile before Kingshouse, the official checkpoint, so help was close by. As I sat stuffing my face with more tatties and ketchup Tommy tried to rub some of the pain out of my legs and I headed off feeling a lot better. I had lost a place though and was back in 4th but I could catch up if I got things going again.I pushed hard after Kingshouse, trying to make the most of the road section because it was rough going from here to the finish. After meeting the guys at the bottom of the Devils staircase I climbed hard and felt totally gone at the top. My legs were really stiff and I could hardly descend at all so I was moving very slowly, trying to build up a rhythm and get going again. By the time I got to the top of the smooth track into Kinlochleven I knew I had to run fast here, it was easy terrain so if I could get some pace here it would get me going again. I got to the bottom in quick time and felt really energised with the faster pace but I was glad to get a seat and scoff down some more tatties and ketchup, mixed with milk this time to help them go down, Tommy, you're a genius! I was weighed here too and was amazed to see I had lost about 5 kilos!

Chapter 5 - Keep the Faith

I had had a good feed at Kinlochleven because I knew what was ahead. In previous years I had crashed badly on this section. There's a steep climb out of Kinlochleven then the track seems to wind on endlessly into the distance and it's rough too, with lots of lose stones to trip on and keep it interesting. You start to feel like you're getting there too, which keeps you going, but I find I have to force myself to eat and drink as I get nearer to the finish because my instinct is to think that I don't need to because I'll be finished soon but the calories are getting burnt at such a rate that if you're not constantly munching then you're going to be in trouble quickly.I made short work of the climb, having done it in training so many times this year I was on personal terms with every stone. When I got to the top and saw the track stretching out ahead I could see the runner in front about a mile. I stepped on the gas but I think he saw me because so did he, would we burn each other out? I just kept the rhythm going trying not to look up from the tricky terrain too much but when I did I could see that Alan had slowed down and I was going to catch him. As I passed I could see he was having a hard time, I shouted that if he kept going he'd get in under 19 hours, he just nodded and I ploughed on. A niggling thought in the back of my head was would Tommy and Ryan find the Lundavra support point ok. It is quite tricky to find from Kinlochleven if you're not familiar with it, so I kept enough juice and some fruit pastilles back just in case. No need to worry though the guys were ready and waiting as I came through, a swap for a full bottle of juice and it was off up the track for the final 6 miles.

Chapter 6 - Between a Rock and a Hard Place

As I went through Lundavra I checked my watch, 6.12pm. I could get inside 18 and a half hours if I work hard, a pb was in sight. I hit the climb hard but there's a few stiles to get over which are agony and ruin the rhythm but I kept it going as much as I could, always thinking about the big rock in the woods which, once you see it means it's all downhill to the finish... I love that rock! What a feeling when it comes into view, you can't buy that! I came through the woods looking desperately, then saw the stile before the descent, "Where's my rock?" I thought! Surely they hadn't moved it! Then I looked behind me and a sign warning of works on the track had been leaned against it obscuring it from view, phew! As I climbed the stile I looked down at Fort William below and just savoured that sight for a moment, nearly done! Then another surprise. The track had been diverted and there was another wee climb, That's why they hid the "rock of the final climb" it all made sense! I ran hard now towards the Braveheart car park, Tommy and Ryan came up the track a bit then I hit the tarmac for the last mile alone, passing pedestrians who must have wondered what this strange smelling runner with a funny look in his eye was about. I didn't care though as I had enough energy to sprint past the West Highland Way finishing post and along into the leisure centre and finished! 3rd place, 18 hours 27 minutes exactly, a new pb by 22 minutes.
Race organiser Dario greeted me with a quaich full of Glengoyne malt whisky which I promptly downed, not a good idea as I discovered when it made its reappearance 20 minutes later!

Chapter 7 - Goblet of Fire!

After regaining control of my stomach, getting showered and having some food, we saw Lyn come in then went down to the Braveheart car park to watch Pauline and Gail coming in, stayed to see them at the end and then went back to the B&B for a good nights sleep. I was starving again so made myself a pot noodle, the next thing I knew it was 5am and I hadn't even made it into bed before falling asleep. The pot noodle was excellent cold though!The next day it was down to the prize giving to see all the survivors. 5 out of 5 Carnegies! What a result! Then off down the road and back to the real world.Thanks to everyone who supported me, it was a team effort and greatly appreciated, I couldn't have done it without you. By the way, keep the 20th of June 2009 free, 3rd place prize was two lovely whisky tumblers... I'm still short of a goblet!

Richie Cunningham '08

The End

You Have Been Watching...

Simon Templeman & Mark Sadler......................................... First half support and midge warriors.

Tommy "theres been a change of plan..." Lawrence & Ryan MacKenzie.................................2nd half support and chief navigators.

The West Highland Way Race family and all its support teams, helpers, marshalls etc...................... Prime source for inspiration, motivation and encouragement