The start of this annual Corstorphine AC race is the nearest to the house, so felt obliged to enter. It also follows on roads of my childhood and some which I train on today. At least I would know the course.
I cycled to the start on this sunny Wednesday evening and parked my bike in the industrial estate off the Turnhouse Road. I could see that it was going to be a club runners race, with the vast majority in vests. I also spotted a couple of LAMMers, who sensibly (unlike me) weren't running, just helping.
The course starts off with a flat and then gentle downhill before the hills back to Cammo and along Cammo Walk. I was struggling on that last steep climb, but managed to hold my place and came in 109th / 224
34m30s
Wednesday, 6 June 2018
Saturday, 2 June 2018
LAMM 2018 (The Final One)
The SiEntries website had my details from past running events, so they used their mailing list in December 2017 to announce that the 2018 LAMM event would be taking place in Harris. This was going to be a unique event, not to be missed. In organiser Martin Stone's words:
"I feel very privileged and super excited to be organising the 2018 event on a Scottish island again. It's been far too long - 14 years since Isle of Mull and 21 years since the 1997 Isle of Jura Classic. Watch this historic 1997 Jura video Part 1 & Part 2) and feel the vibe of an island LAMM. The LAMM will be the biggest sporting event ever held on the Outer Hebrides - the Connoisseurs Mountain Marathon. It is the first time since 1997 that I have released the location more than 36 hours before the event but this year is far too big a deal to keep the location secret! I want you to have plenty of time to plan and make the most of your adventure on the beguiling Outer Hebrides."
Sally and I were captive and quickly arranged partners to team up with. My previous mountain marathons had all been in Class C, so this time I wanted to up the level to Class B. I entered with Andy J. Sally entered with a friend in Class C.
As 2018 progressed, I made plans for a 'Training Weekend' in April to try out gear and practice navigation. Unfortunately, Andy decided to announce that it was his parents' Golden Wedding anniversary on the same weekend at the LAMM, and that he must attend. Bah!
After some deliberation, a compromise was met. Andy would drop out. Sally's partner would also drop out, but only because she had not made any travel arrangements to get to Harris (from London) and that her fitness level might not be sufficient. I contacted Martin Stone querying how to rejig the teams, but he was unflappable and explained the flexibility of the SiEntries site. I made the adjustment and joined Sally in Class C. Martin then refunded Andy and my entry fee.
Due to the traditional Sunday sabbath on Harris, Martin had decided to hold the 2-day event over the Friday and Saturday. This meant that we'd have to take two days off work, and travel north on the Thursday.
On Thursday 31st May, we left Edinburgh at 9ish and headed north up the A9, stopping at Perth Tiso to pick up a replacement water bladder. We ate lunch in a stationary roadworks convoy on the A82 near Invergarry. Once we arrived in Glen Shiel, I parked the car just short of the Cluanie Inn. The temperature was in the mid 20s. Changing into shorts and running gear, I set off onto the hillside and up the Corbett of Am Bathach reaching the summit in 39minutes. I was peching!
My descent took me off the NW ridge and then back east and south along the glen to the car. Sally waited patiently for the 80mins I was away. At Shiel Bridge we stopped for an ice cream where a loaded VW Passat estate pulled up and disgorged four athletic looking men in their forties. They all stretched their limbs in a way that suggested the car had travelled a long distance. One of them turned out to be Steve Birkinshaw, winner of the Elite class.
After another 90mins we arrived in a sweltering Uig where the LAMM organisation was on display outside the ferry terminal. We picked up ferry tickets and dumped the car in the campsite. Cooked some fresh pasta for dinner and then wandered down to the pier to wait in the scorching sun for the boat. It was obviously late, and the 200 or so other LAMMers were getting restless.
Eventually it sailed in, passengers and cars disembarked, we boarded and set off for Tarbert. We chose to sit on deck watching the sun on the silvery Minch. A couple of Skye beers later, a flock of Puffins escorted us into Tarbert.
We strode purposefully to the school football pitch at the west side of the village, where marshals directed us to find a pitch in a grid system on the flat grass. It was going to be cosy!!! As we put the tent up, the midges made their presence known and out came the midge nets. Next it was back to the village community hall to register and pick up the all important plastic bag boots. We were also given our bus departure time for the morning.
Day One
We were up at 6am the following morning (Friday), and after porridge, tent packed, we headed back to the Community Hall to get some breakfast rolls. Then it was time to depart and we queued for our bus, being handed two enormous maps as we boarded. This was a real pain - on the Highlander we had been given A3 maps, but these were A1. On a bus with rucsacs, walking poles and two pieces of A1 paper, things were not great.
The map was marked with all 70 control points, all numbered. It was a massive area, covering the whole of North Harris. One of the CPs was on the summit of An Cliseam - would we be going up there???
The bus trundled along the road to Stornoway, before turning left onto the single track winder that heads along the south coast of North Harris towards Huisnish. We stopped at Miabhaig, at a car park at the foot of the Glen of the same name. A marshal advised us to get ourselves ready, and then make our way to the start which was 50m up the track. Unfortunately, this was where the planning was slightly spoiled. There were only two classes on our bus, and here at the start point - C and D. Two queues formed, and each pair was allowed to dib at 30 second intervals.
This then meant that once we had spent a few seconds looking at the map for the 1st CP, were immediately in a train of other teams. This was to remain the case throughout the day. Nevertheless, we tramped (no running) over the dry heathery bogs onto the first hillside, climbing in the muggy morning air onto a ridge line. Soon enough we hit the first CP, although there had been a slight doubt with my navigation when it wasn't initially where I'd expected it to be. One team obviously didn't understand the 'leave no litter' rule and had dumped some orange peel beside the CP.
The weather was dry and warm with a good breeze on the summits. After this point, navigation was simple and the hardest aspect was the terrain down in the glens. Some of the heather and grassy tussocks were tough going. Our climb to the 5th CP was the lowpoint of the day, when we had to climb about 200m steeply up some loose ground and we noticed our train had rather dispersed. Doubt crept in that we were on the wrong line, or were they on the wrong line?
After 6hours, we finally made it to the midcamp, running around the coast and down to the beach where the refugee camp was evolving.
The usual midcamp activities followed - collecting water, changing socks, tick inspection, moaning about legs, feet, muscles. Eating. Watching other teams arrive after many hours. Sleeping.
27/71 6hr49m53s
Day Two
We had set our alarms for 5.30am, and as we lay there drowsily, we heard the bagpipes start up just metres from the flysheet.
The teams that had arrived late last night were given the option of an early start in order to try finishing before the award presentation. Fortunately, we hadn't been one of those teams, so took our time getting packed up. The hills behind the camp were shrouded in mist, but it looked wispy and likely to burn off as the sun climbed in the sky. We wandered over to the start point, dibbed and then took the Control Point descriptions over to a tussock to study. I already knew (from identifying other Class C pairs, that we would be going into the clouds to start with, so gave the map a cursory glance before we set off up the hill in a SWesterly direction, with at least three pairs ahead of us.
As suspected and as per the MM day two tradition, the first CP will always have a steep climb to wake you up. I was sweating profusely within minutes, the sweat stinging my eyes as I strained my neck to look up at the terrain above. At 400m altitude, the terrain fell back to a grassy plateau, which in the thick clag felt distinctly like the Cairngorms. The air was still and we could hear voices from both sides. Following the compass, the voices became figures, and soon enough we were in a train with pairs joining from both sides, having made their own way to the plateau.
The front pair were female, with one definitely making a strong effort to reach the CP first. The train duly respected this, and we all queued politely to dib. A quick glance at the map, and we were off on a contouring line around the hillside to the next CP. A pair of Score competitors came storming through and disappeared into the mist.
Then our route descended out of the cloud and there was a long leg across wet grass to the east, descending very gradually. This became an enormous train, with at least 15 pairs in front. Some passed us, we passed some. It was just short of CP#3 that I wondered why my bum felt so wet. Surely I wasn't sweating that much?? No, it was my Camelbak...I'd neglected to tighten it properly so that it was slowly leaking into my rucsac and down my back. 2minute stop to fix it.
Soon we joined some tarmac, and there was the opportunity to run for a couple of hundred metres. You'd think we would run, but we didn't. Just some fast walking. We were not alone. Over a pipe from a hydro dam outflow, then some water from the river before another rough climb up to CP#4 which was on the side of a wee lochan. It was really midgey here, not a great place to stop for some food but we did 😅
Looking at the map, we had a choice to make to get to CP#5 which was at the foot of a ridge on the east side of the hill we were now at the base of. The west side. Go round it? Or go over it? Going round looked like purgatory - although there wouldn't be any climbing, the terrain of thick tussocks and heather would likely mean harder going than the ground on the hills. We chose to go over it and set off into the mist again. This climb was awful, knee high heather initially with midge clouds in your ears. I hated it. But we kept going, and soon were catching and overtaking many of the pairs that had passed us between CP#1 and CP#2 earlier. On the ridge, we chose the path less travelled for the descent (or it seemed that way - nobody in front of us) and dropped out of the cloud into a lovely wee valley before contouring round the hill to the CP#5. This was at one of the weird Beehive huts unique to the Hebrides, and was also a popular CP for the Score teams who were flying through.
At last we were able to descend into the glen and join a stony track heading for the road at Miabhaig where we could see a white coach waiting in the car park. We actually jogged this bit! A marshal told us once we'd dibbed, that was the clock stopped until after the bus ride so we could relax. And we did, noshing as many oatcakes, cheese and Dundee cake as we could stomach. Onto the bus, thankfully air conditioned, and off we trundled to the main road to reach the next stage.
This was a bit weird in a MM, but it was the only way the planners could feasibly get Class C and D back to the event centre within the required distances for a MM. Apparently they had thought long and hard about it, but decided to use the bus.
During the actual event, we weren't complaining. It was great to relax for a while away from the pressures of the clock. Yes, ok we were going to be conveyor belted into another train of teams, but the whole two days had already been like that, and the faces were familiar so we knew each other's pace and targets. After another short break, we reluctantly walked over to the dibber to restart the clock and head back onto the hills.
The sun was beating down hard now, and our route found us making a traversing climb across a hillside of burnt heather to the next CP at a river confluence at 400m altitude. Thankfully, that was to be the end of the last major climb. We grabbed some more water and then set off across the west face of Sgaoth Aird to the Bealach Garbh. In the distance I spotted some figures on the horizon, where I expect we should be dropping down, but the teams immediately in front of us didn't head that way. I was certain they were Class C teams, but why were they going that way. Some doubt crept into my route choice, but the terrain allowed for fast progress and we kept on line.
A few metres west of spot height 438m, a narrow bealach marked where I wanted to start the descent to the next CP. We looked down the glen - no other teams! Even more doubt...have we gone too far west?? Stick to the plan...we stumbled down through the deepening heather, and then in the distance I spotted the orange flag of the CP, exactly where the map told me it would be! Happy Days.
Another drink from the river, and another team joined us (having followed us down the glen). We all set off together and they followed us until we were within sight of the final CP when they sped up and vanished. Off to our left, a few hundred metres south, we could just about see Tarbert appearing from the haze.
It was now a race to the finish and I tried to up the pace. We gradually caught up with another pair, one member who was holding his map over his head. His neck was lobster red, and confirmed he was suffering from the sun. They held the hill gate open for us and we stored through, jogging down the tarmac into the village. Unfortunately, we failed to follow the tape-tags that were leading us towards the finish, and had to backtrack to the correct junction. That felt a bit stupid - having just navigated successfully over the hills of North Harris! Anyway, we trotted behind the school and along to the finish in the corner of the football field.
24/69 5h34m39s
We managed to eat some lunch in the school dinner hall (vegetable curry) and drink lots of diluting juice. Then managed to semi-wash with a garden hose. At 4pm, the winners presentations took place in a packed hall and then Martin Stone announced this was to be the last ever LAMM! I think some people were quite shocked, and it certainly made us feel privileged that we'd managed to participate. With hindsight, I think I was content with Class C. The B-course just would have been too tough in those conditions, and I'd not have enjoyed it so much. Perhaps we should try the Score class next time. If there is a next time.
"I feel very privileged and super excited to be organising the 2018 event on a Scottish island again. It's been far too long - 14 years since Isle of Mull and 21 years since the 1997 Isle of Jura Classic. Watch this historic 1997 Jura video Part 1 & Part 2) and feel the vibe of an island LAMM. The LAMM will be the biggest sporting event ever held on the Outer Hebrides - the Connoisseurs Mountain Marathon. It is the first time since 1997 that I have released the location more than 36 hours before the event but this year is far too big a deal to keep the location secret! I want you to have plenty of time to plan and make the most of your adventure on the beguiling Outer Hebrides."
Sally and I were captive and quickly arranged partners to team up with. My previous mountain marathons had all been in Class C, so this time I wanted to up the level to Class B. I entered with Andy J. Sally entered with a friend in Class C.
As 2018 progressed, I made plans for a 'Training Weekend' in April to try out gear and practice navigation. Unfortunately, Andy decided to announce that it was his parents' Golden Wedding anniversary on the same weekend at the LAMM, and that he must attend. Bah!
After some deliberation, a compromise was met. Andy would drop out. Sally's partner would also drop out, but only because she had not made any travel arrangements to get to Harris (from London) and that her fitness level might not be sufficient. I contacted Martin Stone querying how to rejig the teams, but he was unflappable and explained the flexibility of the SiEntries site. I made the adjustment and joined Sally in Class C. Martin then refunded Andy and my entry fee.
Due to the traditional Sunday sabbath on Harris, Martin had decided to hold the 2-day event over the Friday and Saturday. This meant that we'd have to take two days off work, and travel north on the Thursday.
On Thursday 31st May, we left Edinburgh at 9ish and headed north up the A9, stopping at Perth Tiso to pick up a replacement water bladder. We ate lunch in a stationary roadworks convoy on the A82 near Invergarry. Once we arrived in Glen Shiel, I parked the car just short of the Cluanie Inn. The temperature was in the mid 20s. Changing into shorts and running gear, I set off onto the hillside and up the Corbett of Am Bathach reaching the summit in 39minutes. I was peching!
My descent took me off the NW ridge and then back east and south along the glen to the car. Sally waited patiently for the 80mins I was away. At Shiel Bridge we stopped for an ice cream where a loaded VW Passat estate pulled up and disgorged four athletic looking men in their forties. They all stretched their limbs in a way that suggested the car had travelled a long distance. One of them turned out to be Steve Birkinshaw, winner of the Elite class.
After another 90mins we arrived in a sweltering Uig where the LAMM organisation was on display outside the ferry terminal. We picked up ferry tickets and dumped the car in the campsite. Cooked some fresh pasta for dinner and then wandered down to the pier to wait in the scorching sun for the boat. It was obviously late, and the 200 or so other LAMMers were getting restless.
Eventually it sailed in, passengers and cars disembarked, we boarded and set off for Tarbert. We chose to sit on deck watching the sun on the silvery Minch. A couple of Skye beers later, a flock of Puffins escorted us into Tarbert.
We strode purposefully to the school football pitch at the west side of the village, where marshals directed us to find a pitch in a grid system on the flat grass. It was going to be cosy!!! As we put the tent up, the midges made their presence known and out came the midge nets. Next it was back to the village community hall to register and pick up the all important plastic bag boots. We were also given our bus departure time for the morning.
 |
| Football pitch campsite |
Day One
We were up at 6am the following morning (Friday), and after porridge, tent packed, we headed back to the Community Hall to get some breakfast rolls. Then it was time to depart and we queued for our bus, being handed two enormous maps as we boarded. This was a real pain - on the Highlander we had been given A3 maps, but these were A1. On a bus with rucsacs, walking poles and two pieces of A1 paper, things were not great.
The map was marked with all 70 control points, all numbered. It was a massive area, covering the whole of North Harris. One of the CPs was on the summit of An Cliseam - would we be going up there???
The bus trundled along the road to Stornoway, before turning left onto the single track winder that heads along the south coast of North Harris towards Huisnish. We stopped at Miabhaig, at a car park at the foot of the Glen of the same name. A marshal advised us to get ourselves ready, and then make our way to the start which was 50m up the track. Unfortunately, this was where the planning was slightly spoiled. There were only two classes on our bus, and here at the start point - C and D. Two queues formed, and each pair was allowed to dib at 30 second intervals.
 |
| The start of day one for C-Class and D. |
This then meant that once we had spent a few seconds looking at the map for the 1st CP, were immediately in a train of other teams. This was to remain the case throughout the day. Nevertheless, we tramped (no running) over the dry heathery bogs onto the first hillside, climbing in the muggy morning air onto a ridge line. Soon enough we hit the first CP, although there had been a slight doubt with my navigation when it wasn't initially where I'd expected it to be. One team obviously didn't understand the 'leave no litter' rule and had dumped some orange peel beside the CP.
The weather was dry and warm with a good breeze on the summits. After this point, navigation was simple and the hardest aspect was the terrain down in the glens. Some of the heather and grassy tussocks were tough going. Our climb to the 5th CP was the lowpoint of the day, when we had to climb about 200m steeply up some loose ground and we noticed our train had rather dispersed. Doubt crept in that we were on the wrong line, or were they on the wrong line?
 |
| On CP5, putting on a brave face |
 |
| Heading to CP#6 in the gap |
 |
| CP#6, perched on a cliff top over the Atlantic |
After 6hours, we finally made it to the midcamp, running around the coast and down to the beach where the refugee camp was evolving.
The usual midcamp activities followed - collecting water, changing socks, tick inspection, moaning about legs, feet, muscles. Eating. Watching other teams arrive after many hours. Sleeping.
27/71 6hr49m53s
Day Two
We had set our alarms for 5.30am, and as we lay there drowsily, we heard the bagpipes start up just metres from the flysheet.
The teams that had arrived late last night were given the option of an early start in order to try finishing before the award presentation. Fortunately, we hadn't been one of those teams, so took our time getting packed up. The hills behind the camp were shrouded in mist, but it looked wispy and likely to burn off as the sun climbed in the sky. We wandered over to the start point, dibbed and then took the Control Point descriptions over to a tussock to study. I already knew (from identifying other Class C pairs, that we would be going into the clouds to start with, so gave the map a cursory glance before we set off up the hill in a SWesterly direction, with at least three pairs ahead of us.
As suspected and as per the MM day two tradition, the first CP will always have a steep climb to wake you up. I was sweating profusely within minutes, the sweat stinging my eyes as I strained my neck to look up at the terrain above. At 400m altitude, the terrain fell back to a grassy plateau, which in the thick clag felt distinctly like the Cairngorms. The air was still and we could hear voices from both sides. Following the compass, the voices became figures, and soon enough we were in a train with pairs joining from both sides, having made their own way to the plateau.
The front pair were female, with one definitely making a strong effort to reach the CP first. The train duly respected this, and we all queued politely to dib. A quick glance at the map, and we were off on a contouring line around the hillside to the next CP. A pair of Score competitors came storming through and disappeared into the mist.
Then our route descended out of the cloud and there was a long leg across wet grass to the east, descending very gradually. This became an enormous train, with at least 15 pairs in front. Some passed us, we passed some. It was just short of CP#3 that I wondered why my bum felt so wet. Surely I wasn't sweating that much?? No, it was my Camelbak...I'd neglected to tighten it properly so that it was slowly leaking into my rucsac and down my back. 2minute stop to fix it.
Soon we joined some tarmac, and there was the opportunity to run for a couple of hundred metres. You'd think we would run, but we didn't. Just some fast walking. We were not alone. Over a pipe from a hydro dam outflow, then some water from the river before another rough climb up to CP#4 which was on the side of a wee lochan. It was really midgey here, not a great place to stop for some food but we did 😅
Looking at the map, we had a choice to make to get to CP#5 which was at the foot of a ridge on the east side of the hill we were now at the base of. The west side. Go round it? Or go over it? Going round looked like purgatory - although there wouldn't be any climbing, the terrain of thick tussocks and heather would likely mean harder going than the ground on the hills. We chose to go over it and set off into the mist again. This climb was awful, knee high heather initially with midge clouds in your ears. I hated it. But we kept going, and soon were catching and overtaking many of the pairs that had passed us between CP#1 and CP#2 earlier. On the ridge, we chose the path less travelled for the descent (or it seemed that way - nobody in front of us) and dropped out of the cloud into a lovely wee valley before contouring round the hill to the CP#5. This was at one of the weird Beehive huts unique to the Hebrides, and was also a popular CP for the Score teams who were flying through.
 |
| Passing CP#5, Jasmin Paris in the background |
At last we were able to descend into the glen and join a stony track heading for the road at Miabhaig where we could see a white coach waiting in the car park. We actually jogged this bit! A marshal told us once we'd dibbed, that was the clock stopped until after the bus ride so we could relax. And we did, noshing as many oatcakes, cheese and Dundee cake as we could stomach. Onto the bus, thankfully air conditioned, and off we trundled to the main road to reach the next stage.
This was a bit weird in a MM, but it was the only way the planners could feasibly get Class C and D back to the event centre within the required distances for a MM. Apparently they had thought long and hard about it, but decided to use the bus.
 |
| Sweaty & smiling on the bus |
During the actual event, we weren't complaining. It was great to relax for a while away from the pressures of the clock. Yes, ok we were going to be conveyor belted into another train of teams, but the whole two days had already been like that, and the faces were familiar so we knew each other's pace and targets. After another short break, we reluctantly walked over to the dibber to restart the clock and head back onto the hills.
The sun was beating down hard now, and our route found us making a traversing climb across a hillside of burnt heather to the next CP at a river confluence at 400m altitude. Thankfully, that was to be the end of the last major climb. We grabbed some more water and then set off across the west face of Sgaoth Aird to the Bealach Garbh. In the distance I spotted some figures on the horizon, where I expect we should be dropping down, but the teams immediately in front of us didn't head that way. I was certain they were Class C teams, but why were they going that way. Some doubt crept into my route choice, but the terrain allowed for fast progress and we kept on line.
A few metres west of spot height 438m, a narrow bealach marked where I wanted to start the descent to the next CP. We looked down the glen - no other teams! Even more doubt...have we gone too far west?? Stick to the plan...we stumbled down through the deepening heather, and then in the distance I spotted the orange flag of the CP, exactly where the map told me it would be! Happy Days.
Another drink from the river, and another team joined us (having followed us down the glen). We all set off together and they followed us until we were within sight of the final CP when they sped up and vanished. Off to our left, a few hundred metres south, we could just about see Tarbert appearing from the haze.
 |
| Tarbert appearing from the haze below the final CP |
24/69 5h34m39s
We managed to eat some lunch in the school dinner hall (vegetable curry) and drink lots of diluting juice. Then managed to semi-wash with a garden hose. At 4pm, the winners presentations took place in a packed hall and then Martin Stone announced this was to be the last ever LAMM! I think some people were quite shocked, and it certainly made us feel privileged that we'd managed to participate. With hindsight, I think I was content with Class C. The B-course just would have been too tough in those conditions, and I'd not have enjoyed it so much. Perhaps we should try the Score class next time. If there is a next time.
Sunday, 13 May 2018
Copenhagen Marathon 2018
Kielder in October 2017 had been a watershed moment for me, being my first marathon distance run. I had enjoyed the route and the distance, although did struggle in the latter few kilometres. It wasn't long afterwards that I vowed to try another marathon, on the road this time, to gauge my 'real' speed. Although 3hr54 was a good time at Kielder, I knew that the constant gradients had affected me so wanted to get a baseline time.
I had already made the decision to avoid a Scottish or even UK marathon. I'm not sure why I made that decision. Maybe I felt if it was within a driveable distance then there would be less of a commitment to train for it. I started looking abroad at continental options. My criteria were:
I had already made the decision to avoid a Scottish or even UK marathon. I'm not sure why I made that decision. Maybe I felt if it was within a driveable distance then there would be less of a commitment to train for it. I started looking abroad at continental options. My criteria were:
- a fairly flat route
- minimum of revisited ground (one big loop preferred)
- low risk of terrorist attack
- direct flights from Edinburgh
- 1st half of 2018
There were a handful of options considered, before settling on Copenhagen which seemed to fit the bill in most areas and having previously visited the city in 2003, I knew it was a pleasant place.
Flights and Accommodation
I registered for the race at the beginning of December 2017 after researching flight times and prices. Hotel accommodation was the usual lottery, but I settled on the Andersen Hotel which was advertised as a 'boutique' hotel in the centre. It was located near the central train station so would be easy access from the airport, but also to the race start. We flew with Norwegian Air outbound, and EasyJet inbound.
Training
I then looked at a training plan and signed up for a couple of races in the build up. Firstly the Alloa Half-Marathon in March, then the Balmoral 15miler in April. These would hopefully give me an indication on my fitness and stamina levels.
Unfortunately the enduring winter and the Beast from the East (part 2) resulted in the Alloa Half being postponed so I had to make up my own routes. I tried to do a run on Tuesday, Thursdays and Sundays, with my weekend long runs being over 20km and increasing by 2-3km each week. My final 'long run' was in mid-April, four weeks out from the marathon when I ran along the Fife Coastal Path from Anstruther to Kirkcaldy. It was 38.9km, rather longer than I had wanted to do but I made sure to take regular breaks and gels at every 10km.
On three days I went out for some 'interval' training whereby I ran to a nearby road hill and ran reps between lamp-posts. 4 up, 3 down to the top, then 4 down, 3 up. Although this felt brutal, especially on Clermiston Road, I like to think it was beneficial.
My race at Balmoral the following weekend on 22nd April was fantastic. I started a long way back in the field and spent the entire race overtaking other runners as we trotted round in the shadow of Lochnagar.
On May Day, 2 weeks out, I decided to run to the summit of Arthur's Seat for sunrise at 05:30, then home in time to get to work. That ended up being 17.3km.
Gear
I ended up buying some new road shoes with the Run4it voucher I had received from Balmoral. I had been using a pair of Brooks GTS 14s since the Coll Half-Marathon in 2016 and although they had served me well, I thought I'd like to try a new pair for the marathon. The staff in the Maybury store were very helpful and reassured me that the shoes would be fine as long as I ran a couple of 10kms in them before Copenhagen (which I did). In the store, they watched me running on the treadmill (I'm sure they had to suppress laughter at my weird gait). The next generation of Brooks Adrenaline GTS 18 was their advice. For clothing, I decided to take a technical-tee and my vest to wear depending on the weather, plus my blue Kielder top. I would wear my Kalenji shorts as they caused the least chafing of my three pairs. For fuel and hydration I used a waistbelt to hold four gels, one for each 10km. I carried one litre of water in my Camelbak.
The Race
The hotel was 25mins walk from the start so after a large breakfast of alpen, croissants and other pastries, I set off on my route through the Meat-Packing district to Islands Brygge. It was cool, but bright and blue skies were imminent. As I walked, other competitors appeared from apartments and hotels and soon I was in a line of people heading the same direction with numbers pinned to our t-shirts. Into the start pens, I timed my final pee perfectly, with a queue for the urinal that lasted 10minutes, until 09:20.
I found a spot between 3hr50 and 3hr40 pacers who had helium balloons floating above their shoulders. There was piped music playing from a large amp nearby. Everyone looked nervous. People with earphones checked their playlists, others checked watches, some hugged, wished each other luck for what they were about to go through. And finally we were off!
It took a couple of minutes of shuffling/walking/jogging/walking/jogging before we passed over the start line where an amplifier was bellowing out some thrash metal at a massive volume; I couldn't get going fast enough. Off we went over the Lang Brygge and down the long straight to the Tivoli Gardens where Sally had said she'd be standing. I looked and saw her on the other side of the road. She was oblivious to me so I shouted hard and waved.
I felt good and the atmosphere was amazing with so many people lining the streets. At 3km came the first water station with a spray fountain across the wide street. A lot of people headed towards it, but I felt no need at this stage and kept plugging along. I did take a short sip from my camelbak.
I'll try not to describe every kilometre, but the points I remember were passing Sally at around 12km near Nyhavn when my number had become detached from one of the pins and I was preoccupied by that. On the long run along the dual carriageway towards 15km I could see the 3h30 pacers about 150m ahead and tried to catch them. At 21km I was starting to struggle, and by 30km I was really struggling. I had to stop at every water station to drink and catch my breath.
At 38km, the 3hr40 pacers came whizzing past as I was drinking at a water station. I couldn't believe the pace they were running at and immediately tried to latch onto them, to no avail. They were gone, and so was I. My pace was down to 10min miles now, but I dug in and tried to focus. I think I had one more break and then managed to continue to the finish with the increasing crowds and noise cheering me on. Over the Lang Brygge again, underneath and then into the final straight. Noise rising, people passing me, keep running, focus, keep going, there's the finish, keep going! And thats it! The guy in front of me does a cartwheel over the line, another person is being helped onto a stretcher, someone else has cramp.
A medal is passed over my head and someone else hands me a bottle of water. I stagger forward, away from the line and noise then step over a fallen barrier to sit on the kerb. I took my camelbak off, hat off, glasses off and held my head in my hands. That was hard work!
3hours 41minutes 22 seconds. 1714 / 7886
Flights and Accommodation
I registered for the race at the beginning of December 2017 after researching flight times and prices. Hotel accommodation was the usual lottery, but I settled on the Andersen Hotel which was advertised as a 'boutique' hotel in the centre. It was located near the central train station so would be easy access from the airport, but also to the race start. We flew with Norwegian Air outbound, and EasyJet inbound.
Training
I then looked at a training plan and signed up for a couple of races in the build up. Firstly the Alloa Half-Marathon in March, then the Balmoral 15miler in April. These would hopefully give me an indication on my fitness and stamina levels.
Unfortunately the enduring winter and the Beast from the East (part 2) resulted in the Alloa Half being postponed so I had to make up my own routes. I tried to do a run on Tuesday, Thursdays and Sundays, with my weekend long runs being over 20km and increasing by 2-3km each week. My final 'long run' was in mid-April, four weeks out from the marathon when I ran along the Fife Coastal Path from Anstruther to Kirkcaldy. It was 38.9km, rather longer than I had wanted to do but I made sure to take regular breaks and gels at every 10km.
On three days I went out for some 'interval' training whereby I ran to a nearby road hill and ran reps between lamp-posts. 4 up, 3 down to the top, then 4 down, 3 up. Although this felt brutal, especially on Clermiston Road, I like to think it was beneficial.
My race at Balmoral the following weekend on 22nd April was fantastic. I started a long way back in the field and spent the entire race overtaking other runners as we trotted round in the shadow of Lochnagar.
On May Day, 2 weeks out, I decided to run to the summit of Arthur's Seat for sunrise at 05:30, then home in time to get to work. That ended up being 17.3km.
Gear
I ended up buying some new road shoes with the Run4it voucher I had received from Balmoral. I had been using a pair of Brooks GTS 14s since the Coll Half-Marathon in 2016 and although they had served me well, I thought I'd like to try a new pair for the marathon. The staff in the Maybury store were very helpful and reassured me that the shoes would be fine as long as I ran a couple of 10kms in them before Copenhagen (which I did). In the store, they watched me running on the treadmill (I'm sure they had to suppress laughter at my weird gait). The next generation of Brooks Adrenaline GTS 18 was their advice. For clothing, I decided to take a technical-tee and my vest to wear depending on the weather, plus my blue Kielder top. I would wear my Kalenji shorts as they caused the least chafing of my three pairs. For fuel and hydration I used a waistbelt to hold four gels, one for each 10km. I carried one litre of water in my Camelbak.
The Race
 |
| Ready to go - in the hotel room |
The hotel was 25mins walk from the start so after a large breakfast of alpen, croissants and other pastries, I set off on my route through the Meat-Packing district to Islands Brygge. It was cool, but bright and blue skies were imminent. As I walked, other competitors appeared from apartments and hotels and soon I was in a line of people heading the same direction with numbers pinned to our t-shirts. Into the start pens, I timed my final pee perfectly, with a queue for the urinal that lasted 10minutes, until 09:20.
I found a spot between 3hr50 and 3hr40 pacers who had helium balloons floating above their shoulders. There was piped music playing from a large amp nearby. Everyone looked nervous. People with earphones checked their playlists, others checked watches, some hugged, wished each other luck for what they were about to go through. And finally we were off!
It took a couple of minutes of shuffling/walking/jogging/walking/jogging before we passed over the start line where an amplifier was bellowing out some thrash metal at a massive volume; I couldn't get going fast enough. Off we went over the Lang Brygge and down the long straight to the Tivoli Gardens where Sally had said she'd be standing. I looked and saw her on the other side of the road. She was oblivious to me so I shouted hard and waved.
 |
| The pacers come past Tivoli Gardens |
I felt good and the atmosphere was amazing with so many people lining the streets. At 3km came the first water station with a spray fountain across the wide street. A lot of people headed towards it, but I felt no need at this stage and kept plugging along. I did take a short sip from my camelbak.
I'll try not to describe every kilometre, but the points I remember were passing Sally at around 12km near Nyhavn when my number had become detached from one of the pins and I was preoccupied by that. On the long run along the dual carriageway towards 15km I could see the 3h30 pacers about 150m ahead and tried to catch them. At 21km I was starting to struggle, and by 30km I was really struggling. I had to stop at every water station to drink and catch my breath.
 |
| This was at 29km, feeling it now! |
At 38km, the 3hr40 pacers came whizzing past as I was drinking at a water station. I couldn't believe the pace they were running at and immediately tried to latch onto them, to no avail. They were gone, and so was I. My pace was down to 10min miles now, but I dug in and tried to focus. I think I had one more break and then managed to continue to the finish with the increasing crowds and noise cheering me on. Over the Lang Brygge again, underneath and then into the final straight. Noise rising, people passing me, keep running, focus, keep going, there's the finish, keep going! And thats it! The guy in front of me does a cartwheel over the line, another person is being helped onto a stretcher, someone else has cramp.
A medal is passed over my head and someone else hands me a bottle of water. I stagger forward, away from the line and noise then step over a fallen barrier to sit on the kerb. I took my camelbak off, hat off, glasses off and held my head in my hands. That was hard work!
3hours 41minutes 22 seconds. 1714 / 7886
 |
| Free beer! |
Sunday, 22 April 2018
Balmoral 15mile Trail Race 2018
As part of my marathon training for Copenhagen in May, I included this race as a way to assess my progress. The theory was that I had done Alloa Half in March, then the longer 15miler in April would be a nice distance.
I underestimated the time it would take me to get to the start from 13:00 so when I did get there, the hooter was imminent. I joined the throng of runners, spread out along the single track tarmac, probably about 100m back from the start arch. Off we went, and I quickly realised I was in the slow part of the field. This meant I was able to constantly overtake through the field in front, initially in groups, but as I worked my way forward and the field became more spread out, it was reduced to individuals to pick off.
The route followed the Dee for 10km or so, eventually petering from tarmac to LR track, then to footpath. It wound through the beautiful Caledonian forest, the sunlight dappling through the branches above. Turning east, we started to ascend away from the river and up towards the foothills of Lochnagar. I still was managing to pick people off until the final water station when a couple of runners started to pass me on the descent.
I had been aware of a 'sting in the tail' on the route with a steep hill climb through the woods back to the Castle. It was a sting indeed, and it reduced us to a slow jog. On the rapid careering descent to the tarmac, a Penicuik Harrier came thundering past me and I sprinted (I thought) after him towards the finish line.
I had felt great on this run so was encouraged that my training plan was working. Copenhagen here I come!
1hr 53m 36s
54/497
Sunday, 5 November 2017
Edinburgh Mens 10K 2017
In 2016, I had made my debut at this testosterone fuelled race but felt that I still had more to give on the final couple of kms. Cleverly, the race organisers send out emails inviting you to sign-up for the next event within a few days of competing, with the carrot of early-bird prices.
I felt there was unfinished work so entered again without a second thought.
After the Kielder Marathon in October, I had done a couple of easy weeks, punctuated by a tough hill-run to chase a bus between Hillend and West Linton along the tops.
Sunday 5th November was dry and cool, but sunny so that shorts & t-shirt were sufficient with my windtop. This year, they had laid out four start pens, coloured white, red, yellow & green. White was for the elites, I was in the red.
The usual mad sprint down the Mound and then some jostling into the Princes St gardens before the field started to spread out into the High Street. I noticed at least a couple of female club runners setting a good pace and tried to keep up with them. I managed to pass them before Dynamic Earth, but they overtook me as we joined the Western Approach road.
Passing under the bridge of Morrison Street, I heard an approaching siren from behind, then shouts of other runners warning us to get into the side as an ambulance came roaring past. That added a wee spurt to everyone's pace but the long straight flatness of the old-railway line killed me again. Although I was up on my 2016 time, I still came in well over 41mins.
41m38s 199/1593
I felt there was unfinished work so entered again without a second thought.
After the Kielder Marathon in October, I had done a couple of easy weeks, punctuated by a tough hill-run to chase a bus between Hillend and West Linton along the tops.
Sunday 5th November was dry and cool, but sunny so that shorts & t-shirt were sufficient with my windtop. This year, they had laid out four start pens, coloured white, red, yellow & green. White was for the elites, I was in the red.
The usual mad sprint down the Mound and then some jostling into the Princes St gardens before the field started to spread out into the High Street. I noticed at least a couple of female club runners setting a good pace and tried to keep up with them. I managed to pass them before Dynamic Earth, but they overtook me as we joined the Western Approach road.
Passing under the bridge of Morrison Street, I heard an approaching siren from behind, then shouts of other runners warning us to get into the side as an ambulance came roaring past. That added a wee spurt to everyone's pace but the long straight flatness of the old-railway line killed me again. Although I was up on my 2016 time, I still came in well over 41mins.
41m38s 199/1593
Sunday, 8 October 2017
Kielder Marathon 2017
After the twenty flat miles of the Edinburgh to North Berwick race in May 2017 when I managed to just about cross the finish line running, the thought of another six miles was worth considering. Sally had suggested the Kielder Marathon as an option and having enjoyed our previous cycling visits to the Reservoir, it sounded like something I'd like to do.
Irrationally, I ended up booking a place on the Two Breweries hill race on the same evening. That race was scheduled for 23rd September, only a couple of weeks before the Kielder marathon, and at 18miles it looked like it would fit nicely into a training schedule.
In July after our summer holiday to Lochcarron and Glendaruel, I put a spreadsheet together of a planned training schedule leading up to the 8th of October and race day. I did a little bit of online research to find a schedule that would fit my current fitness level and aspirational finish time and then applied my own tweaks to that. Sadly life and work got in the way in a few places with childcare commitments and a marathon series of working weekends in September to make things awkward.
In July and September, I made two recce runs of the Two Breweries route for three reasons:
Firstly to keep the fitness levels in my training and some interest on the ground. Secondly to check the route of the race in preparation for 23rd September, but thirdly to see if I could actually achieve it within the cut-off times. The first outing from Traquair to Glenrath was dispatched in good time, no routing issues apart from on the first climb to Birkscairn Hill in thick bracken. However, the second outing from Glenrath to Broughton was more troublesome, especially when I got lost on the first hill, took the wrong line up Trahenna and badly sprained my left ankle coming off the latter.
I had a decision to make. Abandon the Two Breweries due to the risk of injury and keep training alone, or stick to the plan. On the week of the Two Breweries race, it was infact work that made my decision for me. I was not going to compete, so emailed the race organiser John Hamer on the Thursday and gave up my place.
My training included one big run each week, increasing by 5km each week to finish with my longest run at 33.7km. I enjoyed the planning and running of these training runs. I used the excellent Map My Run website to define bigger and bigger loops in my lunch hour. The two bigger ones were when I caught the bus to West Linton and ran home over the Pentlands from there. Then a long loop from the office into West Lothian and back after rush hour. I was pretty nackered after that one and was glad the office was empty as I staggered back from the showers.
Finally race week arrived and I limited myself to a single 11km loop on the Tuesday. On the Sunday and Wednesday I went to the swimming pool for some lengths as I was concerned about the lack of exertion. I guess this was my version of Maranoia, worrying about not being ready.
On Saturday 7th October, I drove south via Jedburgh to Saughtree and had a relaxed evening at the excellent Guest House on the old station platform. I made sure to carbo load with a big plate of spaghetti carbonara and apple strudel. In the morning, my pre-ordered steaming bowl of porridge was duly presented and set me up perfectly.
The air was cool - about 6C when I set off to the Border, but dry. There were a few pillows of hill fog rolling over Peel Fell and around the wonderfully named 'Deadwater'. I arrived at Kielder Village and followed the marshall's directions to the car park. Squeezed next to a Mini, the driver emerged and complained that he was having to park so far from the race start.
I grabbed my pre-packed bag, double checked everything and then headed down to the bus. Off we went south down the reservoir road to be dumped at Leaplish. Then our merry band strode through the cool morning air past holiday chalets to the lake shore and the race 'village'. I found a seat in the tea tent and settled down to read my book whilst sipping water and nibbling on a flap jack. I watched the other competitors. I wasn't really sure what I was supposed to be doing at this point pre-race so just relaxed as much as I could.
Eventually the geordie voice over the PA system bellowed that it was time to convene at the start. It was 10:45am. Along a single track road of tarmac we trotted, a lot of nervous laughter and comments. Checking of gear, drinking. I stood in the "Over 3 1/2 hours" area. Midges started to bite.
A quick countdown, and then we were off. A short trot, then walking and then after 60 seconds or so we were over the start line and running!!! This was it!!
The first mile or so actually goes south in a loop around the holiday village, slowly rising away from the lake shore along a single track tarmac road. I was surprised at the initial pace everyone seemed to be setting with hardly any jostling or mad sprinters up the sides. It took some will power to not zoom ahead and I spent some minutes observing the runners nearby to see if they looked like marathon veterans or noobs like me.
Irrationally, I ended up booking a place on the Two Breweries hill race on the same evening. That race was scheduled for 23rd September, only a couple of weeks before the Kielder marathon, and at 18miles it looked like it would fit nicely into a training schedule.
In July after our summer holiday to Lochcarron and Glendaruel, I put a spreadsheet together of a planned training schedule leading up to the 8th of October and race day. I did a little bit of online research to find a schedule that would fit my current fitness level and aspirational finish time and then applied my own tweaks to that. Sadly life and work got in the way in a few places with childcare commitments and a marathon series of working weekends in September to make things awkward.
In July and September, I made two recce runs of the Two Breweries route for three reasons:
Firstly to keep the fitness levels in my training and some interest on the ground. Secondly to check the route of the race in preparation for 23rd September, but thirdly to see if I could actually achieve it within the cut-off times. The first outing from Traquair to Glenrath was dispatched in good time, no routing issues apart from on the first climb to Birkscairn Hill in thick bracken. However, the second outing from Glenrath to Broughton was more troublesome, especially when I got lost on the first hill, took the wrong line up Trahenna and badly sprained my left ankle coming off the latter.
I had a decision to make. Abandon the Two Breweries due to the risk of injury and keep training alone, or stick to the plan. On the week of the Two Breweries race, it was infact work that made my decision for me. I was not going to compete, so emailed the race organiser John Hamer on the Thursday and gave up my place.
My training included one big run each week, increasing by 5km each week to finish with my longest run at 33.7km. I enjoyed the planning and running of these training runs. I used the excellent Map My Run website to define bigger and bigger loops in my lunch hour. The two bigger ones were when I caught the bus to West Linton and ran home over the Pentlands from there. Then a long loop from the office into West Lothian and back after rush hour. I was pretty nackered after that one and was glad the office was empty as I staggered back from the showers.
Finally race week arrived and I limited myself to a single 11km loop on the Tuesday. On the Sunday and Wednesday I went to the swimming pool for some lengths as I was concerned about the lack of exertion. I guess this was my version of Maranoia, worrying about not being ready.
On Saturday 7th October, I drove south via Jedburgh to Saughtree and had a relaxed evening at the excellent Guest House on the old station platform. I made sure to carbo load with a big plate of spaghetti carbonara and apple strudel. In the morning, my pre-ordered steaming bowl of porridge was duly presented and set me up perfectly.
The air was cool - about 6C when I set off to the Border, but dry. There were a few pillows of hill fog rolling over Peel Fell and around the wonderfully named 'Deadwater'. I arrived at Kielder Village and followed the marshall's directions to the car park. Squeezed next to a Mini, the driver emerged and complained that he was having to park so far from the race start.
I grabbed my pre-packed bag, double checked everything and then headed down to the bus. Off we went south down the reservoir road to be dumped at Leaplish. Then our merry band strode through the cool morning air past holiday chalets to the lake shore and the race 'village'. I found a seat in the tea tent and settled down to read my book whilst sipping water and nibbling on a flap jack. I watched the other competitors. I wasn't really sure what I was supposed to be doing at this point pre-race so just relaxed as much as I could.
 |
| A kind spectator took this pic, a few minutes before the start. I was ready! |
Eventually the geordie voice over the PA system bellowed that it was time to convene at the start. It was 10:45am. Along a single track road of tarmac we trotted, a lot of nervous laughter and comments. Checking of gear, drinking. I stood in the "Over 3 1/2 hours" area. Midges started to bite.
A quick countdown, and then we were off. A short trot, then walking and then after 60 seconds or so we were over the start line and running!!! This was it!!
 |
| 1km down, looping around Leaplish |
After we left the holiday chalets, I decided I wanted to increase my pace and managed to skip past some of the slower pairs when we jogged through the car park. Sadly the opportunities to overtake were quickly reduced when we joined the actual Lakeside Way and the narrower gravel path. Looking ahead I could see we were definitely in a bit of a blockage with one runner holding back the crowd as a 50m gap built up in front of them. Losing patience, I joined a couple of runners in the grass and got into the open ground ahead.
As we continued north the field began to open up further and it became easier to pick off runners ahead. Although I wasn't running especially fast, I was definitely making progress through other competitors. At around the 6km mark, I saw a sign for toilets and decided I needed to go. I think I had taken on too much water before the start and could feel it sloshing around in my bladder. Typically, the one portaloo was engaged. There was no way I was going to wait so carried on to the next one at 10km, and the turn south at Kielder Village. This loo was also occupied, so I hid at the side and just got on with it.
The run down the east side of the lake was a real joy. I enjoyed it all, even the steep zig zags near half-way which required some walking. The sculptures dotted along the route held the interest and broke up each section. There goes the massive head of Silvas Capitalis, there go the Janus Chairs, there goes the Belvedere. I had managed to get on the heels of a pair of chatting men who sounded like they knew what they were doing by the snippets of conversation I could hear. I noticed we were consistently overtaking other runners; infact I don't recall being overtaken once on the east shore. At every hydration station I made sure to grab a water bottle or an isotonic carton. One of the stations had kindly pre-inserted the straw in them which was a God send. It made it so much easier to drink than from a bottle.
At the dam I was starting to struggle. This was at around 18miles. Everything I had read about the route suggested the dam would be a respite from the roller coaster lakeside path. Obviously it was flat and straight, but there was something mentally challenging that just made it harder than I expected. Perhaps it was the long sightline with runners far in the distance, and sadly the two men I had been tailing were now a long way ahead. I was slowing.
From studying the route map, I knew the next section would be the hardest not only from a physical point of view with more climbing, but I was worried about the frustrating direction change away from the finish when the lake shore heads east. The expectation of this had already sowed the seed in my mind, and I battled with this challenge. At Bull Crag it all came to a head and the series of 'steep' zig-zags up into the trees were a climb too far. I chose to walk and refuel, ignoring the other runners who passed me by. At the top of the climb, there was a race photographer trying to encourage everyone on. I noticed he didn't raise his camera to anyone who was walking. No surprises there!
The next couple of miles were punctuated by walking up the slightest incline and trying to get time back on the descents. I played cat and mouse with three or four other runners who were struggling like me, but in their own little worlds. When we passed the 23mile marker, it suddenly dawned on me that sub 4hours might be achievable. I did some calculations and realised that if I kept running at this (slow) pace, I would be well within that number.
A female in black passed me at a pace I was not used to, but then round the next corner she was bent double wretching into the grass. A couple of male runners slowed to check she was OK but she waved them on. I gave her a wide berth and plodded past. She then zipped past me again a few minutes later, not quite sure this was the best technique.
One of the cat-and-mice ahead of me stopped to walk on a flat section and as I approached to overtake I shouted at him to keep running "Come on! We can do this!!". He was part of my race, I didn't want to lose that cat.
Supporters on the Lakeside Path started to appear and I could hear faint loudspeaker announcements in the distance. "Not far now!" said an elderly couple on a bend. I must have looked tired. Finally I could see the start line through the trees on my left and I tried to up the pace for the big finish. Through more trees, right turn onto the tarmac and then a downhill dash towards the crowds. They were cheering loudly, jammed tight against the barriers, it was a wonderful sound and spurred me on. I dug deep and tried to focus on the line.
Over the line I stopped my watch. 3:54:12. Wow! Absolutely chuffed with that.
Immediately I was overwhelmed by a wave of emotion at what I had achieved and that I had actually finished this race. I started to well up but held it together as I was passed a medal, t-shirt and yet another water bottle. I walked slowly through the baggage tent to collect my bag, then exited and found a picnic table in the sun to collapse.
Stuffing some more processed energy bar into my mouth I started to cry. I can't really explain it, but I think it was just the realisation of the achievement. I held my head in my hands and had a wee sob, snotters and tears combining with the salt on my face. Fortunately no-one saw me, or rather no-one cared so I didn't have to explain myself.
I pulled myself together, then headed slowly up the hill, crossing the race line and Alison Curbishley directed me onto one of the waiting buses. I lay my head against the glass and closed my eyes. I had done it.
From studying the route map, I knew the next section would be the hardest not only from a physical point of view with more climbing, but I was worried about the frustrating direction change away from the finish when the lake shore heads east. The expectation of this had already sowed the seed in my mind, and I battled with this challenge. At Bull Crag it all came to a head and the series of 'steep' zig-zags up into the trees were a climb too far. I chose to walk and refuel, ignoring the other runners who passed me by. At the top of the climb, there was a race photographer trying to encourage everyone on. I noticed he didn't raise his camera to anyone who was walking. No surprises there!
The next couple of miles were punctuated by walking up the slightest incline and trying to get time back on the descents. I played cat and mouse with three or four other runners who were struggling like me, but in their own little worlds. When we passed the 23mile marker, it suddenly dawned on me that sub 4hours might be achievable. I did some calculations and realised that if I kept running at this (slow) pace, I would be well within that number.
 |
| Not far from here I realised that sub 4hours might be achievable |
One of the cat-and-mice ahead of me stopped to walk on a flat section and as I approached to overtake I shouted at him to keep running "Come on! We can do this!!". He was part of my race, I didn't want to lose that cat.
 |
| I was starting to go a little mad in the last mile or two, with the knowledge that this torture would soon be over |
Supporters on the Lakeside Path started to appear and I could hear faint loudspeaker announcements in the distance. "Not far now!" said an elderly couple on a bend. I must have looked tired. Finally I could see the start line through the trees on my left and I tried to up the pace for the big finish. Through more trees, right turn onto the tarmac and then a downhill dash towards the crowds. They were cheering loudly, jammed tight against the barriers, it was a wonderful sound and spurred me on. I dug deep and tried to focus on the line.
 |
| Crossing the finish line, I was wrecked. |
Immediately I was overwhelmed by a wave of emotion at what I had achieved and that I had actually finished this race. I started to well up but held it together as I was passed a medal, t-shirt and yet another water bottle. I walked slowly through the baggage tent to collect my bag, then exited and found a picnic table in the sun to collapse.
Stuffing some more processed energy bar into my mouth I started to cry. I can't really explain it, but I think it was just the realisation of the achievement. I held my head in my hands and had a wee sob, snotters and tears combining with the salt on my face. Fortunately no-one saw me, or rather no-one cared so I didn't have to explain myself.
I pulled myself together, then headed slowly up the hill, crossing the race line and Alison Curbishley directed me onto one of the waiting buses. I lay my head against the glass and closed my eyes. I had done it.
Sunday, 18 June 2017
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