The weekend started in the usual fashion with a leisurely Friday afternoon drive from East Kilbride to Kennacraig in warm sunshine. Six Harriers shared the one car, Stuart and Maud Waugh, Eddie and Sandra Reid, David Wardrope and myself. Ian Hughes would join us directly on race day from his family holiday at Kilberry on the mainland which is close to the Kennacraig ferry. A lunch stop at Inverary filled us up nicely for the remainder of the trip ahead. The crossing from Kennacraig to Port Askaig was smooth although we somehow managed to be almost first on but last off the ferry and joined the back of the long line of cars on the road to Bowmore where finding a parking space was now an issue. The Harriers were accommodated in three different places around Bowmore (The Lochside Hotel and two B&B's). An excellent dinner in the Lochside (now under new ownership for all of two weeks) was followed by a relatively early retiral to bed for the fully primed team. I went out like a light but Eddie and Sandra in the room opposite apparently found the two bag pipers, amplified accordianist and drummer playing in the hotel restaurant below till the wee smaw hours kept them off their sleep. These townies just can't adapt to the sounds of the country it seems.........
Race day and the clouds had moved in along with a light breeze, perfect racing conditions. After a light breakfast, the Bowmore resident Harriers gathered at around 9:15 for a warm-up run at which it was clear that some problems had developed over night with Eddie puffing, panting and yawning and Stuart hanging back at a slower than usual pace. Only myself (who had arrived on the island with two injuries and an illness already safely declared) and David seemed to be running smoothly. As we warmed up I spotted the silhouette of Ian Hughes on the service bus from the morning ferry so the team was complete.
After the peculiarly Islay formalities of declaring your presence to the race organisers (who were heard telling a competitor who had forgotten to bring his number "if you were flying abroad you wouldn't forget your passport would you?") and declaring our team counters, we headed to the imaginary start line for a 10:45 start. With Robert Gilroy lining up (and declaring to all that he was going for the course record held by Calderglen's Allan McLellan since 1989) I knew that at least I would not have to worry about trying to hang on to the leading pack as Robert would be off like a shot. Despite three faulty starts (one where the hooter blower was taking a picture rather than holding the hooter, two when the hooter didn't work and three where the very international field of around 160 didn't all understand the final instruction "auch oan ye go then"), the race was off with local lad (now a veteran) Marcus Covell making his traditional early break up the main street only to fade once round the first corner 100m later.
Ian Hughes went with the early pace up hill but I hung back until around that first corner then drifted through to second place as we reached the round church. Robert was already gone. It would be a long, lonely race for both him and me as we both ran 13 miles effectively on our own. By the first mile, which felt quite comfortable, I had acquired Eddie's early warm-up puffing and panting and things were not looking good for a finish let alone holding on to second place. Although the breathing did not improve, I managed to keep the pace reasonably consistent for the first half of the race which is predominantly uphill. I had dropped outside of 1:20 pace which was the time I had mentally decided I would be happy with. However, I had forgotten that the link road down to the airport was a full mile long and that it was all downhill and I really picked the pace up and got my breathing under control on that descent. The long airport road then stretched out ahead and I could see the next big climb three miles ahead. However, with a slight wind assistance, I kept the pace going and hit ten miles in under 59 minutes so I was back on schedule for a sub 1:20. With two miles to go the climbs are really quite severe and the pace fell away again but I had enough in hand to coast down the steep main street and around the corner to the finish line in 1:17:57 and a very comfortable second place. Robert had finished in 1:10:19, missing out on Big Al's record by around a minute.
Ian had run a steady race, also aiming for around 1:20 but found the first half and last few miles tough, finishing 8th in around 1:22:16. Eddie sounded to me like he was struggling on the warm-up and I am sure he is in better form than his time of 1:29:20 suggests. Unfortunately disaster struck the in-form Stuart Waugh. He had felt a slight niggle in his knee on Thursday's training run and again during the warm-up but it seemed to ease. He kept this to himself. However at 1.5 miles, something in his knee let go big time, launching Stuart hopping into the air. Thoughts of the team convinced Stuart to try to keep going and somehow he hobbled on to 11 miles in increasing pain before it became impossible to continue (note to all; if anything like that happens to you in a race, just stop immediately, it doesn't matter about team prizes). I hope Stuart gets this injury treated as soon as possible and that it is not as bad as it looked to all of us. Worst of all, with Ian returning to the mainland and Stuart injured, we now no longer had a complete team for the Dashing White Sergeant at the post race ceilidh. Veteran of over 100 half marathons but never Islay, David Wardrope really enjoyed the course and was very pleased with his time of 1:45:00. More impressively, now a vet and having run for years, we were as delighted as David was that he won his first ever prize in a race, completing the Calderglen team that took the team prize.
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| Winning Team |
We are now also able to officially dispel the myth that the course is long. Both David and I independently recorded the distance on our Garmins and we both got 13.05 miles (horizontal distance so undoubtedly 13.1 miles following the road profile).
A leisurely dook in Bowmore swimming pool for Eddie, David and I preceded the 2pm prize giving. Only the strong arm and locksmith skills of Eddie saved me the embarrassment of having to attend the prize giving in my trunks as the locker door jammed with my clothes and hotel key inside it. Crisis averted, we hobbled up the hill to partake of the sponsor's produce.
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| Third, first (behind bottle) and second placed runners |
I have never seen so many trophies and bottles of whisky in one place as were on display at the Ardbeg sponsored prize giving. Wee Robert Gilroy won a 4.5 liter bottle of 10 year old Ardbeg which was as big as him. With me picking up second place and first vet, Ian Hughes collecting 4th vet and Ian, Eddie, David and me collecting the first team, we soon had more bottles of whisky, shields and trophies than we could possibly carry. The prize giving was conducted with perfect comedy timing as always by Margaret, with Kate in the wings correcting errors and a somewhat bemused old lady, Doris, substituting for the unavailable Ardbeg manager handing out the prizes.
The afternoon was a bit driech to say the least so we retired to a local cafe for tea and scones (I know, not as hard core as in the old days) before another excellent dinner in The Lochside and a few drinks in the bar. This took us nicely up to the ceilidh at 9:30. After a half hour the hall was packed and the band subjected all to a 10 minute strip the willow as the second dance which clearly took its toll on a lot of weary bodies. After a Canadian Barn "Recovery" Dance, normal service resumed and the ceilidh was as lively as always. The weary and injured Harriers all retired before midnight (a first I think) and I once again was out like a light (although Eddie claims there was singing going on in the restaurant below his room).
Now able to enjoy a full, cooked breakfast, Sunday started well although the weather was driecher. I had promised a trip to The Big Strand, a beautiful 5 mile long beach just outside Bowmore, so as I never break a promise even if it is pelting down with rain, I found the road to the beach on only my second pass along the airport road. And as the rain had stopped the beach made an impressive sight. The ladies had a paddle in the sea whilst the blokes discussed how good it would have been if we had just brought our running or swimming stuff with us (which was 200m away in the car). As we were on the 1pm ferry, it was all too soon time to head back to Port Askaig where both the ferry journey and the drive back to EK seemed to pass very quickly. We are definitely going back next year, no discussion necessary!!!
1 comment:
Well done to all. Another successful weekend on islay.
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