It's party time in Glenmore

The Glenmore 24 hour ultra race, 1st - 2nd September 2012

Not quite sure why I entered this race a few months ago.  It could have been the promise of a fun weekend, or the lure of Glenmore where I spent many New Year holidays based at the local Youth Hostel with my family when they were younger, or the fact that it provided the opportunity to run somewhere around the magical 100 mile mark.  Above all was the thought that it would stand me in good stead for the 2013 West Highland Way Race that is my single main focus and goal now for this winter and next year.

Support was my youngest daughter Nicole and Sam, her rugby-playing, Everton-supporting fella.  The bribe for 900 miles travelling, several days away and no sleep on Saturday night was Friday night booked for them at Glenmore Lodge SYHA and Sunday at the Coylumbridge Hilton.  Mind you, they were great and seemed to enjoy themselves as much as me.  We drove up in the camper van after work on Thursday and ended up not stopping until reaching Aviemore in the small hours of Friday.  I managed to squeeze into the tiny roof space and we all amazingly managed a good night's kip.

It was lovely to wake up on Friday without having to drive any real distance.  We pottered around all morning and after dropping Nic and Sam off at the Youth Hostel, I made my way to the Hayfield, where there were just a couple of tents and runners, and Mike Adams giving me a warm greeting to set the mood of the weekend.  I set up the gazebo - which incidentally didn't survive Saturday night's wind, and found myself chatting to two lovely local guys, Martin and Ray who both later ran excellently in the G12, as they tried manfully to erect a commercial party tent next to us.

The calm before the storm

The Hayfield had been turned into a race track with route-marking tape by Mike, with tents and small campers (ahem) allowed inside the track, creating a lovely party atmosphere.  We had a great spot just 30 metres after the start / finish line, from where Ada would weave her magic in due course.  Norry and his lovely family came and set up camp next to us, which was really nice.  Then George and Karen, Mike Raffan, Johnny Fling and lots of other lovely people turned up.  It was quite a special atmosphere, everyone happy and relaxed.  I didn't stay up late Friday evening, though, but there were subsequent accounts - and pleasant wafts - of runners partaking in cuisine cooked al fresco and all washed down with Medoc.

Saturday morning was a leisurely affair, with porridge at 8am and I was joined by Nicole and Sam at around 10am, before I was presented with my only prize of the weekend - by John Kynaston for his "Guess the time" competition from the Lakeland 100.  

The race - 1st half

We all lined up at 11:30 for our race briefing from Bill Heirs.  It seemed to be devoid of strict rules and do's and don'ts; rather the attention seemed to be on us all enjoying ourselves and letting someone know if we or another runner was in distress.  Simple and heartwarming. 

Conditions were just about perfect: cool and rain-free.  And before we knew it we were off.  Paul Hart led the way with a sprint that he kept up for the remainder of his race, and I could see quite a few of the 12 hour runners ahead of me - Norry, Sandra, John Kynaston and Donald.  I wasn't sure where Mike Raffan was but assumed fairly reasonably that he'd be ahead of me.  We all did a lap of the Hayfield and then up the slope and away on the four mile anti-clockwise trail run.

Fashion FAIL (me, not Colin)

Nicole caught me wearing this dreadful buff at the start, which I sensibly discarded before meeting all the spectators at the end of the first lap.  No wonder Colin was grimacing!

The first lap seemed to pass very quickly.  I was led to believe that there was a big hill in the middle somewhere, and that it was the same hill I'd struggled up in the Aviemore Half the previous October - albeit in the other direction.  Well  the hill didn't seem too bad, at all.  Halfway up was a mid-lap checkpoint where the marshals discreetly checked off your race number to ensure you weren't cheating, and I gratefully grabbed a cup of water and a cup of High5 solution each time of passing.  I do sweat so much, and it meant that we didn't have to carry water bottles.  Then there was a lovely fast descent back into the Hayfield to complete the four-mile loop.  I was aiming for a lap time of 50 minutes but clocked myself at 37:04 for lap 1.  Oh dear - just over 9 minute miles - but it seemed so easy.

Karen, George and Rob (courtesy of Julie Clarke)

Grant and Mike (courtesy of Bill and Mike)

The rest of the first 12 hours passed quite quickly.  At the end of each lap I shouted my race number to Ada, the amazing official timekeeper, and then ran on to my camper van where Nicole was waiting with whatever I needed.  She was just fabulous and a natural organiser, ensuring my longest pit-stop throughout the entire race was no more than about 3 or 4 minutes.

After around four and a half hours, a familiar voice called out from behind on the hill: "Hiya Minty".  It was Mike, lapping me!  "How are you doing, Mike?", I asked.  "OK, considering I'm leading both races", he replied.  Apparently, Paul Hart, who'd gone out like a train had stopped with an injury after 6 laps, and now Mike was leading the 24 and at that time ahead of all the G12 runners.  Not bad for someone who made a fairly last-minute decision to enter!  Later on in the race Mike would be passed by the amazing Grant MacDonald, who went on to win with a new record 129 miles, but managed to keep going fabulously and hold off the impressive Bob Steel to finish runner up with a phenomenal 121 miles.

The hill - seems fairly benign in the photo (courtesy of Bill and Mike)

My lap times were pretty consistent between 37-39 minutes over the first 4 laps, and then eased out a little to 42-48 minutes for laps 5-11, and then between 51-53 minutes for the next five laps taking me up to 64 miles in 12 hours 19 minutes.

Proud dad (purchased from  Peter Diender Action Heroes)

One of my race highlights was Nicole coming out and running a couple of laps with me.  Bill and Mike are very laid back in their approach to race rules - including support runners - and it was so special to spend 8 miles running the lovely trails of the lower slopes of the Cairngorms with her.  She's only been running a few months and is really progressing well.

Mid evening, I unfortunately came across Norry, being helped back to the Hayfield in a state of some pain.  He was hoping to do very well in the G12 but was suffering badly with cramp.  However, even in extreme pain he had the presence of mind to shout out that I could use his headtorch, as he knew mine was a bit dodgy.  

Sometime in the mid-late evening I spotted Donald ahead and set about catching him up.  Just at this time the wind had picked up and I should have taken it easy, but you know what it's like...  It was so funny, when I caught Donald his face was a picture - I could almost here the cogs whirring "for goodness sake (or something similar) I can't let that fat old bloke catch me up".  He got his act together and left me for dust.  I'd like to think I played a major motivational part in getting Donald his 3rd place in the G12!

My lap times for the first 12 hours:

Official times compiled by Ada Stewart and published by Mike Adams

At exactly midnight I checked and was at the mid-lap checkpoint, so I'd have run just about 62.5 miles by then, which would have seen me on or near the podium in the men's 12 hour race.

The night hours

I managed to keep running (apart from the hill) for another 3 laps, taking me up to 72 miles completed in 14 hours and 10 minutes.  This is by far the furthest distance I've ever managed to properly run, and I was fairly chuffed about that.  Earlier in the evening I'd enquired what position I was in the race, to be told 17th. As it happened, at 72 miles, when I was flagging quite a bit in the dark, cool hours of the night, i was actually in sixth place.  If I'd known that at 2am I'm sure I would have pressed on harder than I did, but working out that I was comfortably ahead of my 100 mile target, and being quite tired and with fairly sore feet, I decided to change to a brisk walk.  I figured that if I could keep as near as possible to a 15 minute mile pace, I would be fine, and this is what I did right through to almost the end of the race.

Each lap I was running on my own, hardly seeing a soul all night, except for Ada and her team and also the amazing graveyard shift ladies at the mid-lap checkpoint.  It was worth entering the race just to feel the positive vibes from these lovely sets of willing officials.  The pinnacle was seeing my name "MINTY" laid out in glow-sticks on the hill some time in the wee dark hours - fantastic.

Morning has broken

What an uplifting feeling it was to see dawn breaking.  I didn't really mind the night but everyone's spirits soared with daylight.  I was still plodding round, and managed to complete each lap  between 1hr 4 and 1hr 21 mins.  Nicole and Sam again were excellent; Sam had been writing down my lap splits and shouting them out to me all through the race, although there was one dodgy time split at around three in the morning - fairly understandably :-)

I was getting very close to my target, and the thought of reaching 100 miles and stopping   had turned into a fixed plan.  I had just no appetite to run any further.  Here are my 2nd half splits:

2nd half race splits

Towards the end of the race I'd been unlapped and then overtaken by Fionna Rennie, who again was showing just how good a long-distance runner she is, finishing with an amazing 109 miles.  I was also overtaken by Ray McCurdy, who'd discovered a second wind after a break!  So as you can see I was slowing down quite a bit, but quite happy with myself and comfortable with my tactics.

Just after I'd completed my 24th and penultimate lap, on 96 miles, Norry came up to me and asked if I'd like some company on the last lap.  I almost bit his hand off, so thankful for the companionship after many hours alone, and we had a good natter about our respective races and training, and he recounted stories about last year's race when he'd crewed for Jeroem, who'd gone on to win the race.  At the top of the hill I sort of managed to run the last mile, but this was proving slightly discomforting - say no more.

Yes! - 100 miles in 22 hours 28 minutes (photo courtesy of Vikki Shanks)

I did put on what seemed like a spurt for the last straight up to the finish line, where after 22 hours 28 mins I received "the horn" from Ada to signify 100 miles completed.  Amazingly there were lots of people cheering me over the line, and it felt fantastic.  My longest previous race was 55 miles and I walked a fair bit of that.  Vikki and Iain Shanks had come over from Stonehaven with their boys and had just arrived 10 minutes beforehand, which was lovely. 

No more laps Ada - please!

Ada suggested in her own diplomatic style that I should continue running, but I was having none of it.  Too many hours spent thinking about the moment when I could stop after reaching this iconic target.

I think the photo tells a fairly accurate picture of how I was feeling at the time!





Then I took it easy and rested my legs in the camper van, feeling ever so guilty that Mike, Grant, Bob, Fionna, Pauline and all the other tough guys were pounding out the little laps right up to the end in order that an accurate distance could be measured for everyone.  Then it was 12 noon and the hooter went.  End of race.

After half an hour or so Bill and Ada presented a medal and lovely bottle of custom Glenmore 24 ale to all runners, and the prizes to all the worthy winners.
  

Prizegiving (photo courtesy of Julie Clarke)

Among my running buddies Mike came 2nd in the G24, whilst Sandra won her first ever race in the ladies' G12 with the fast-improving Jo Rae taking third.  John K came 2nd in the men's G12 with Donald seemingly extremely surprised to win 3rd male, undergoing a very quick reassessment of how his race went!  Fionna Rennie went on to win the ladies' G24, striding out almost as strongly at the end as in the first few laps.

Minty taking it easy (photo courtesy of Sandra McDougall)  

I get my medal and beer (photo courtesy of Julie Clarke)

Reflections

An amazing event!  A course thought-out so cleverly: it has lots of different characteristics, and some views to die for!  Organisation was quietly brilliant.  The atmosphere was warm and convivial throughout the weekend, and the attention to detail was second to none.  It's not just the runners who have to stay awake for 24 hours; Bill and Mike were popping up all over the course during the race, and Ada stayed in charge of timekeeping throughout.  In fact I thought I'd caught her napping as I arrived on one night-time lap, only to see her exiting the ladies'.  Hats off for some phenomenal performances, as already mentioned above.  I really am in awe of what some people - especially Fionna Rennie - achieved in the race.

Next year if I run I have a deal with Ada.  I won't wimp out until I've clocked 108 miles.  Or I may just come up to support.  Whichever way, I don't think I'll be anywhere else but Glenmore on Sept 7th 2013.  Thanks very much to Bill, Mike, Ada and all who helped make it such a special event.  See you next year.

  

Devil Reflections

Devil o' the Highlands 42 mile ultra race, August 2012

This was the first time I'd run this race, so didn't know what to expect.  I'd run / walked the whole course just a couple of months earlier as support for Jonathan Mackintosh in his successful inaugural West Highland Way Race, and I'd run / walked the whole way a few times before, but I'd never managed to run the Devil section hard: always tired out by the time I reached Tyndrum (or even earlier).

I was worried about the uphill first mile - my dodgy right leg usually needing a couple of flat steady miles to stretch out (that's why I post such abysmal Parkrun 5K times) - but I managed to keep up mid-pack without really pushing it, and before I knew it I was nicely into a 9 minute mile pace and enjoying the scenic, relatively easy few miles to Bridge of Orchy.

I'd contemplated running without my bum bag until I reached the Bridge, but as it happened I was glad I'd decided to play safe.  I heard a story (unverified) that someone had been thrown out of the race for not having the mandatory kit, which may or may not be true, but if so, it would be a bit harsh unless the guy was a novice on the course.  As it was, I reached BoO in 1:01, ahead of expectations, and quickly grabbed a couple of bottles, a sandwich and gel bar from Julia, who was braving the midges without donning the pretty seasonal hat I'd just bought for her.

A brisk climb over the hill followed by a fast descent to Inveroran Hotel and my only fall of the race - luckily onto boggy ground rather than the rough stones.  I was having a ball at this stage, despite the increasingly hot sun burning down.

The long run across Rannoch Moor was fairly steady, although I was beginning to wilt a little in the heat.  Mind you, I was knocking off the odd place, overtaking more runners than those passing me.  Suddenly, a mile from the last incline before the descent a vision came into focus!  It was Alan Robertson, who'd run back from Glencoe to lend a bit of support.  What a fillip that was.  If you could choose someone to bump into on a run to lift your spirits it would be Robbo, with his ever-upbeat singing and questionable repertoire of jokes.  That seemed to give me a spring in my step once more, and I had a nice run down to the checkpoint at Blackrock Cottage, in a time of 3:03, where Julia was there to meet me again, still braving the local insect population (ok so the midge hat was really bad).  A quick swap of bottles another sandwich and couple of gels and I was off.

The section past Kingshouse Hotel where the trail veers right off the tarmac and uphill was quite hard, and I was so thirsty I stopped and harangued a support driver (it may have been Paul Hart) at Altnafeadh before the climb for a water refill.  Sorry about that but I was in a state and was fearful of the ensuing ascent without liquid replenishment.  Apart from that, though, I was looking forward to the Devil's Staircase, as I can usually make up time on others on these steep sections.  Though I had to laugh when I read the eventual winner, Thomas Loehndorf's, blog, admonishing himself that he had to walk some of the Staircase.  If only!

The climb was ok, especially as near to the top I came across a lady devil dressed in a kilt brandishing a trident - and offering jelly babies to passing racers - yes really - I wasn't hallucinating.  Or was I?  I read later that it was Fionna Rennie - who was rushing down the hill to try (and fail) to get to Kinlochleven in time to meet her runner!

I managed to run most of the section from the top of the Staircase down into Kinlochleven, but it was slow and ponderous progression.  A few runners - mainly female - who'd paced better, zipped past me, but I got into a decent rythym and passed a couple of guys myself.  When I run this section I always think of that fantastic book Children of the Dead End by Patrick McGill - an autobigraphical novel about an Irish navvy that ends up working on the Blackwater Dam construction that provided the water for Kinlochleven's aluminium works in the early 20th century.  Very evocative and I thoroughly recommend it if you like your British social and industrial history.

Just before entering the village I bumped into John Kynaston again as he was waiting for Katrina to come down off the hill.  Every time I went past John he thoughtfully offered encouragement and asked how I felt and every time I pulled a face and moaned back - out of tiredness, not intentional bad manners, I must add.  It was just my race face - I was actually enjoying myself - but he must have thought I was the grumpiest runner out there, and I contrasted my utterances with the style of Jonathan Mackintosh during the WHW race.  Not once did Jonathan ever complain or feel sorry for himself throughout the 16 hours I was with him.  What class, and something for me to remember for next year, if my dream of running the West Highland Way Race in 2013 is realised.

Anyway, back to the running.  KLL reached in 5:15, with a 4 minute rest there to rehydrate and change my shirt.  Julia did a fantastic job all day, but we'd agreed that she wouldn't try to get the camper van up the narrow road to Lundavra, and so I was a bit worried about lack of water there.  Earlier that day, at race registration in the Green Welly Stop, I'd asked the marshals if water would be provided at Lundavra, and when told it wouldn't be, my suggestion that the race could be run unsupported with drop bags facility as with the Fling was met with a firm rejection:  we've always done it this way, and we're not going to change.  Personally, I think it's a shame that I had to drag Julia on a 900 mile round trip when I am quite capable of looking after myself on what isn't a particularly long or exposed run, compared with some we do.  It also seems rather an environmental own goal to have 100+ cars traipsing round the highlands and chugging up the road to Lundavra and back.  Still, there may be good reason why it's done this way, but I for one think the race could only be enhanced with the introduction of drop bags.  It would also probably allow for more runners to take part, as the limit of 150 seems very low for such a fantastic and popular race.

The climb out of KLL was fine; I don't mind it at all, but was sad to see a male runner was fallen and injured halfway up the hill.  He'd knocked his head and was lying down in obvious pain on the path, but was in good hands so I carried on up the path.  When I reached the top of the hill and started along the Lairig Mor though, I was knackered!  Feeling rather sorry for myself I walked steadily for half a mile until I came across the familiar and very welcome sight of Robbo bounding towards me, complete with refreshments, from Lundavra.  He was less subtle than normal - and cajoled and harangued me first into a trot and then a steady 12 minute mile jog, and the time started to pass quite quickly as we descended into Lundavra, where he had to leave me, but not before fetching me some sugary coffee and Irn Bru from his car.  Thanks a lot Alan, I owe you, if I could keep up with you I'll try and return the favour one day!

Then it was a case of attrition for the four tough miles until reaching the track that flows downhill into Fort William.  I managed 9 minute miles for the descent, but the energy tank was flashing red empty as I grimaced and moaned my way past John K and his video recorder at Braveheart car park.  What do they say: sprint when you see the 30 sign.  No, my watch said I was well within my target of 9 hours, and there was no sprint left in me.  Over the line in 8:40:40 and very happy with that.

On reflection, there is plenty of time to chip away at there in future.  8 hours should be possible with the right training to keep the speed up in the second half of the race after the Devil's Staircase.  We'll see what next year brings.  Anyway, one very happy chappy, a lovely day out with friends, a new race conquered and a decent time.  53rd out of 131 starters, 124 finishers.  Thanks very much to the marshals for a fabulous event and well done to all runners and suppporters, especially Julia for giving up a lovely relaxing weekend to look after her grumpy old man :-)

A Step Up?

Highland Fling 28 April 2012

The Highland Fling 53 mile ultra race along the West Highland Way is an epic journey, geographically and mentally, that shouldn't really be attempted in one day by sane people. I'd imagine many walkers of the route must think that we are quite barmy and possibly a bit disrespectful to the beautiful countryside that we can't properly take in the way we rush along, staring downwards at the trail lest we fall over? Have a rest, enjoy a pint or two along the way (uh-hum, some runners have been known to do this as well). Relax and enjoy? No. I'm an ultra runner and I want to step up from last year's PB of 12:41, so I'm willing to forego my pint for a bit longer and see what I can do about that.

There are so many reasons to adore this race, and some big reasons to fear and at times loathe it. Afterwards, once the dust has settled, everything seems rosy and our minds wander, planning strategies to improve our times next year. We bask in the warm glow of completing an epic physical and mental test, but I don't remember looking at the world through those rose-tinted glasses when struggling to climb up to the viewpoint after Balmaha, or passing the badly injured runner approaching Rowardennan.

So, what did I have to beat?

2011 Fling race splits:

2:03; 2:03 to Drymen
1:30; 3:34 to Balmaha
1:54; 5:28 to Rowardennan
1:54; 7:22 to Inversnaid
2:06; 9:28 to Bein Glas
3:13; 12:41 to Tyndrum

I worked out a plan for this year's race in February based on a combination of my previous Fling times and also the various training runs over the winter months, that I thought was stretching but achievable:

2012 Fling race plan

2:00; 2:00 to Drymen
1:25; 3:25 to Balmaha
1:35; 5:00 to Rowardennan
1:00; 6:30 to Inversnaid
2:00; 8:30 to Bein Glas
3:00; 11:30 to Tyndrum

Since February, I've ignored trails and hills to concentrate on marathon running, as my main goal race of the year was in Paris two weeks ago. That was my 2nd consecutive PB polished off (after the D33) and so going into this year's Fling I felt confident for the first half of the race but thought I'd struggle for endurance later on, and also worried about my lack of hill training.

So even before the benefit of hindsight that a blog allows, I expected to go out strong, start to fall apart in the middle section, and hang on for dear life to the end.

I love the preamble to the start of the Fling. I didn't see many of the 6am starters, as we didn't get going quite as early as I'd hoped. I was wondering whether Robbo (Alan Robertson) had managed to make the start line after all his injury travails, but delighted to bump into him after the end of the race and hear that he had finished well.  Mike Raffan came and had a lovely chat after his epic overnight chaperone duties of running the Fling in reverse for Karen and for George, who I spotted limping quite badly after a fall.  Dave Morrow also popped over to say hello, looking very cool.  (Ian) Shanksi - the most sociable male on the planet - came and had a cuppa as well.  Andy Johns popped over for a hug, but couldn't hang around as he had to ensure he was late for the start of the race. It's not enough just to run sub-9 hours, he also has to miss the start by about a minute!  That takes some planning. John Pickard came over especially early for a chat and a cuppa in the camper van, which was nice of him.  John was in a relay team with Julia, my wife.  We also saw David Simpson and his wife Julie and son and Jonathan Mackintosh and his wife Leanne.  At registration I also bumped into Nick Dunc, who went on to have a fabulous race.

Julia finishing her relay leg (1)  in 1:58 - great time

And so to the start. The previous two years I'd lined up at the back of the testosterone-fueled MV40 pack. But this year I wanted to force the pace a bit in the first 12 miles so I lined up halfway to the front. It wasn't an ego thing, I will always be a fun runner (which I'm reminded of every time i see a photo from a race) but I just wanted to push myself from the start this year.

Section 1 - Milngavie to Drymen

And I did, which, after the normal early race leg niggles, was quite good fun. I'd expected David Simpson to be ahead of me but before leaving Mugdock Park he caught me up. "I went off a bit too fast", I told him. "I thought so, you're breathing a bit heavily" he replied. Oh, I thought, and determined to slow down a bit and I let him shoot off. I ran along with Dave Morrow for a short while, but he said Vikki Shanks had told him not to set off too fast so he retreated back behind me. I had to admit to myself that I was tanking it a bit, but the leg stiffness cleared up and I was running well. As we dog-legged on the 200m road section I saw David ahead and just after we joined the disused railway line I'd caught him up. Now I've enjoyed some very pleasant training runs with him over the winter, and I know that he's a good deal faster than me, but what the heck. I had an enjoyable run along the straight section through Beech Tree Inn, with David tucked in behind letting me open all the gates (I'm only saying that to wind him up - as I said to him at the time I'm built more for opening gates than running through them). We spotted and passed Richard Dennis who had joined us on a training run a few months ago - hey? He's a 3 hour zilch marathon runner. Either he was going very slowly or I was severely overcooking. As time told it was a combination of the two.

I had a ball on that section, but once we left the track and hit the more undulating road I struggled to keep up, so just before Drymen I "let" David go off. He went on to have a fine run, finishing in 10:44.

Drymen: 1:50 (versus plan 2:00)

Section 2 - Drymen to Balmaha

I was on my own pretty well for the rest of the race now, and whilst having company is preferable, I'm quite happy to plod along in my own world. Ascending the path up towards the Grab-a-gran (copyright Robbo) forest Richard ran past me. He seemed a bit low, saying something about it not being his day, so I replied "slow start, fast finish", and boy did he take that mantra and prove it. He finished in around 9:45 which was another big PB I think. I loved the run through the forest, and the climb up to Conic seems to get easier every time I do it. From my mile splits, I ascended two minutes faster than last year, which I'm chuffed about. Runners like me have to be cute (in the "smart" sense), ie. we have to fly through drop-points whilst others stop for a break, ascend hills as quickly as possible and power walk really fast whenever we can't run, to make up as much time as we can compared with the fleeter of foot.

The descent from Conic Hill was an unmitigated disaster. There had been a debate, started by me, about whether to wear road or trail shoes. Those in the know (George, Sandra, etc) had wisely advised trail shoes, but I was thinking I'd wear my road shoes because I'm so much more comfortable in them and thought they'd help prevent my right leg playing up. As it happens, at almost the last minute - the night before the race - I changed my mind. I turfed my (rubbish) Saucony Peregrine trail shoes out of my kit bag and realised that both shoes were split down the sides! Absolutely no way I could wear them, so it was back to the road shoes. Now the fall I had down Conic on Saturday wasn't as spectacular or as far as on the February run - when incidentally I had worn trail shoes - but this was because the slide down was stopped by a large protruding boulder which my left shin smacked into. Ouch. End of race, was my immediate thought. There was quite a lot of blood and a couple of good chunks of flesh left on the stone. However, once a few seconds had passed my mind started to move on and work out a way to stand up, then get down off the hill (very gingerly) and before you know it, I was running fast into the Balmaha checkpoint, where I managed to procure a couple of dressings. I'd even managed to keep to my planned 1:25 for this leg.

Balmaha: 1:25 (versus plan 1:25), overall 3:15 (plan 3:25)

Conic 1, Minty 0.  And the largest of the two holes is covered up!

Section 3 - Balmaha to Rowardennan

Now readers, if you're still awake, at this point I just want to say that the next section is my least favourite of the race. I enjoy the scenery, and it's nice as a training run when you're starting off from Balmaha, but after 20 miles of mainly running, this at times undulating section is quite sapping. there are also two or three really hard, short, steep climbs, that take your breath away. Today felt not too different, but I did notice an improvement over last year's fitness level. Some time during this stage Dave Morrow came sauntering past me, looking very sprightly. He went on to complete in just over 11 hours, with those wise words from Vikki paying off. The really sobering point of the day came just before Rowardennan when running past Ellen, the fallen runner. She was on a stretcher and I didn't know how badly she was injured. I thought it was amazing that Sandra gave up her own race to stay and help look after Ellen. After all that training, what a sacrifice to make. I've since heard that Ellen broke her collar bone, and hope she's able to make a good recovery in due course.

Rowardennan: 1:42 (vs plan 1:35), overall 4:57 (plan 5:00)

Section 4 - Rowardennan to Inversnaid

So, still on course, and taking very little time to pass through the check-points. The next section was quite uneventful, I ran where I could but as the race wore on, more and more I entered into "pragmatic" gear, ie. fast-paced walking on inclines rather than running. A few MV 40s passed me but only a trickle so I was quite comfortable.  Just before Inversnaid I caught up with Vikki.  Poor Mrs S was suffering with her ITB but she still managed a cheery smile and encouragement.  I pushed on and made it to Inversnaid in 1:40, 10 mins slower than predicted, leaving me behind overall for the first time.

Inversnaid: 1:40 (vs plan 1:30), overall 6:37 (plan 6:30)

Section 5 - Inversnaid to Bein Glas

For some reason I wasn't too worried about timings, saying to myself that what would be would be... I think I might pen a song about that one day.  But this next section would certainly find me out if I was running out of steam.  Pragmatic gear went into overdrive at this point - or is that an oxymoron?  Well you know what I mean... I walked a lot of the course at this point, but always keeping a good pace. I noticed, as I caught and overtook some other MV40s, that they were quite a bit slower negotiating the rocks and boulders; as I mentioned before, every little helps (perhaps that could be a new advertising slogan if no-one's grabbed it first).  I arrived in Bein Glas, surprised and delighted that I had caught up on my plan by 4 minutes, arriving only 3 minutes later than planned.

Bein Glas: 1:56 (vs plan 2:00), overall 8:33 (plan 8:30)

Section 6 - Bein Glan to Tyndrum

So, 12 miles in just under three hours to secure 11:30. 3:26 to go sub-12.  Could I do it?  Could I run?  In 2010 and 2011 I hadn't managed to run the eight miles after Bein Glas until the forest descent into Auchtertyre, and my ambition was to achieve that this year. Well, I'll have to wait until next year to tick off that particular box, because again I couldn't must up enough energy to run, apart from the odd shuffle on the odd occasion there was a downwards gradient.  On fresh legs this section is quite runnable, but the course profile shows just how much the net elevation gain is once you leave the Lowlands and move into the Highlands. One bit of good news is that the cows in the farm before Crianlarich (known affectionately as Cow Poo Alley, or something similar) were all munching away on their hay and not wanting to play a game of chicken with WHW runners for a change.

After turning left at the 47 mile fork, I really struggled to climb the initial steep section up into the forest. Then a very kind chap threw me some jelly beans - pretty well the first solids I'd managed all race - which gave me enough boost to continue the climb. At this point I was playing leap-frog with Ada, who was having a good race, and in the end she was too strong and went off ahead. Descending to the main road wasn't much fun for the quads - but it was a whole lot nicer than climbing. All that remained was to shuffle run through Auchtertyre and on to the finish. I tried to end with a flourish but my legs just refused to go fast. I couldn't quite manage the 11;30 but was only five minutes off that, and once I knew that the sub-12 was in the bag I relaxed and "enjoyed" myself for the last three or so miles.

Tyndrum: 3:02 (vs plan 3:00), overall 11:35 (plan 11:30), for a 66 minute PB.  I'll take that!


Well who would look their best after 11 hours 35?

Just a note of thanks to everyone that helped with organising this race. It's very special to me, and I'm always so thankful to all the marshalls and other volunteers that give up a lot of their time to allow us to go out and be silly. You might not think we always appreciate it because of a lack of grace when passing - especially as the race progresses, but although we might not be able to eloquently express our thanks, inside we're really grateful.

Next year? Well the target has to have a 10: in it, doesn't it?

The rest of my blog is devoted to my experiences at the after-party...












... you get the picture - yes, fast asleep whilst the party was in full flow :-(