A race too far

 

Let me start by apologising for the tardiness of this report which can be easily explained – I simply couldn’t be bothered. I had a definite case of post-race blues following this year’s Fling and am only now starting to believe again that my long-term ambition, the WHWR itself, is still possible. Now that I am in a slightly better place, here goes.

 

Hoka One One Highland Fling, Saturday 25^th April

My race weekend started well enough, collecting my number and timing chip at the Lorne Hotel in the west end on the Friday afternoon and enjoying meeting old friends. This distraction presumably also explains how I managed to lose said chip only minutes after getting it and crucially not noticing until we were almost back in EK. Frantic phone calls to RD John Duncan and his other half Noanie eventually led to a very welcome text around seven o’clock that someone had found it on the street outside the hotel and handed it in. A friend, Emma, was going to bring it to the start in the morning, phew!!

At 06:00 the following day, suitably chipped and having apologised profusely (and been warned that in future I was going to be held down at registration and have my chip stapled on to me, ouch), I watched as Ian Rae was given the unexpected honour of starting the 700 or so runners as he is now the only ever-present and this year, 2015, would turn out to be his tenth consecutive Fling finish.

After doing so Ian, John McGregor (in the blue and yellow of his new club, Giffnock North) and I ran the first few hundred yards together before my pace became more sensible and I dropped back not to see them again until Tyndrum ( in fact I haven’t actually seen John since but we have spoken over the phone)

Given that this was my 14^th ultra you would be forgiven for assuming I had a pretty good idea of what I was doing when it comes to the longer distances – not so. As any good coach will tell you, look for the positives, so on that score;

I finished the race, I wasn’t a physical wreck and I managed not to fall over - that’s about it really, now for the negatives; (don’t read this while within reach of prescription drugs, it’s depressing)

Never, ever do something in a race you haven’t practised before – how many times have we all heard that one?  Yet, a few days before, I decide on muesli as my main meal for the first dropbag at Balmaha. A logical choice, I eat it almost every morning of my life and I still intend to use it again but…mistake number one, on the day of the race I somehow get it into my head I’ll be eating my breakfast of choice at Drymen, thirteen miles in to the route which leads me to eat nothing during that first stage (I still don’t know what happened to the banana I had in my hand at the start). Even the unexpected delight of meeting Colin and Genevieve Freeman didn’t jolt my memory, after big hugs, turning down Gen’s proferred jelly babies with a ‘ no thanks, I’ve got a whole bag of stuff just over the road there’.

Ploughing on after only being able to take on water I went up and through what little remains of the Garabdhan forest and eventually up and over Conic (Chronic) Hill itself, reaching Alabama almost twenty miles in and by now searching for a horse to eat (apologies to vegetarians and horse-lovers everywhere), which brings me to mistake number two; having specially bought a tub for the muesli I failed to check it was leakproof (I now have a water-tight screwtop tub for the next time) resulting in a marshall handing me a dropbag which was basically a polythene bag of milk with bits floating around in it. Fortunately the items in the bag were individually wrapped so were rescued but not so the muesli. All that was left was an unappetising dry’ish mush which was made marginally more edible by adding the only liquid I had available, Nuun, an elctrolyte drink. Not a great combination, let me tell you but I had finally managed to get something solid into my protesting stomach. And did it protest! So much so that I didn’t eat again, other than jelly beans, until Rowardennan, another seven miles up the road and the scene of mistake number three;

I should add here that other than my mounting nutritional disasters I was having a ball running with and chatting happily to various pals, Rhona, Lois, Ada, Wilson and ex-harrier Dawn Buchanan who had her very own car full of support/cheerleaders in the form of mum Jean, dad Billy and fiancee Matt. Indeed for most of the race they managed to make me feel as though they were there to support me too.  Anyway, back to Riverdennan.

Trying to avoid sitting on the ground while eating (getting up again is a major difficulty in any ultra) I cleared a wee space on a huge table-like boulder to set out my food and drink. I was aware the remainder of the flat stone was being used as an overflow table for previous runners unwanted dropbag contents but failed to keep my wits about me. You’ve probably already guessed what happened next - while necking my banana milkshake someone grabbed my mandarin orange segments (the one item I look forward to the most) and walked off shovelling them down his gob, leaving me laughing out loud at my own stupidity. However the real stupidity was yet to come for instead of replacing my lost item from among the smorgasbord of goodies lying in front of me I turned on my heel and continued on my way.

Inversnaid was the venue for mistake number four; so busy was I helping other runners’ by handing out Nuun tabs left, right and centre I left my beautifully-chilled bottle of flat coke sitting on the table and ran for at least half a mile before noticing I only had around one inch of fluid left. If you recall it had hardly rained for weeks in the build-up to the race so all the burns where I could normally have re-filled my bottle quite easily were bone-dry. Eventually a friendly walker assisted me by simply handing me an entire bottle, cheers pal. Aren’t folk really, really nice? With hindsight I should have gone back to the checkpoint for my drink as I ended up bonking a few miles later, legs wobbling and head dizzy which led to me sitting down and cramming almost everything edible in my pack into my mouth in an effort to recover from the cumulative effects of my beginners’ errors and on top of that I was now dehydrated too, no longer ‘peeing clear’  

By this point I was a long down mentally and very aware that almost everyone I knew in the race had long-since disappeared into the distance but the belated nutrition, the gifted water, finally finding a burn where I filled my bottle again and a long spell of walking along the infamous ‘lochside’ where running is more of an ambition than an option seemed to rejuvenate me so that by the time I reached the final checkpoint at Beinglas I was nearly back to my normal self. The fact that Billy, Jean and Matt had waited for me even though, as I subsequently discovered looking through the splits, Dawn was there fully thirty minutes before me made a huge difference – thanks guys, your help and support there and at other places helped me drag myself through. Jean told me later she even got to use her skills by bandaging up a couple of runners who had had nasty falls.

Thanks to my improving physical and mental state I plodded quite impressively (for me) to the finish with the enormous fillip of meeting Coach, Geo and Eddie on the hill above Crianlarich just prior to entering the forest. Knowing they were waiting there and also knowing I was way behind the tentative timings I had given Alan the day before undoubtedly acted as motivation and afterwards also gave me a tremendous mental lift as I ran almost the whole way up and down the ‘rollercoaster’ and through Auchertyre to the finish.

Six weeks of no running from November to mid-December last year plus one or two other problems this year meant I hadn’t really expected to run a good time so shouldn’t be too displeased with my time of 13:22:11. It was a full 38 minutes slower than last year and only 8 minutes quicker than my first Fling two years ago. At least I can look at many areas of improvement for next time and, in fact, during my next ultra I will have a team to make sure I eat and drink enough which will be an unusual but very welcome experience. Let's hear it for team Searil! I finished 516^th of 647 finishers, a bit closer to the back of the pack than I would have liked but hey-ho.

Having run the 34 miles to Inversnaid together only then did Ian leave John lying on the ground, beaten and apparently vowing to DNF, with Ian going on to finish in Tyndrum in an excellent 10:36:35. John meanwhile spent some fifteen minutes or so regaining his composure and indeed recovering so well that he ran to Tyndrum nine minutes quicker than Ian and only seven minutes behind him overall, quite astonishing. It should also be noted that John didn’t really train properly for the Fling, his main focus having been the Manchester marathon at which he ran a fourteen-minute pb of 3:01 only six days before -  an improvement of over thirty seconds per mile! Ian and I only hope he never takes his ultra running as seriously. Dawn meanwhile had a absolute stormer of an ultra-debut, coming home to big hugs from her entire crew in 12:36:05, well done you.

As the only one wearing the black and amber during the race I hereby officially claim my spot as leading harrier! And by the way Ian assures me his beautifully co-ordinated all over blue racing attire was entirely fortuitous and was actually the result of just grabbing the first things that came to hand. Aye right.

Matthew Lay from California won the race in 7:04:07, the second-fastest time ever recorded. Paul Navesey was a close second in 7:06:44 and Donnie Campbell (better known as Dr Andrew Murray’s running partner and only a week after running a 130k ultra in Turkey) came home third in 7:17:28. His real partner, Rachael Campbell, won the female race in 8:42:59, only a month after they were married.

I haven’t included any photos as Alan has already done so in his previous report and also I think the EK News has a slightly larger circulation than this blog...

 

Edinburgh to North Berwick Road Race, Saturday 2^nd May

 On the face of it, entering this race, seven days after a 53 mile hilly trail ultra, was a foolhardy thing to do but I had a plan. No, really, I did.

With eight weeks until the big one and knowing I was more than likely to be lazy for a couple of weeks after the Fling I decided a flat twenty mile road race would be perfect for keeping me honest, forcing me out the door instead of having a lie-in and using my muscles in a completely different way thereby not damaging already very tired legs.

It worked! I ran a decent time of 3:07:15, nine minutes slower than three years ago when conditions were much more in our favour, in fact then we had a slight tailwind (apparently very unusual for this part of the Forth Estuary) This year was not so benign and was run into a gale-force wind. The sunglasses even had to come off during the one and only, but very heavy, downpour. Once again I managed to overtake a good number of runners over the last few miles whilst avoiding being overtaken myself. I always like to finish well even if the rest of the race isn’t so impressive.

The race was won in a time of 1:59:00 by Ross Milne of Corstorphine AC and the first lady home was Nikki Gibson of Edinburgh Ac in 2:19:42. I was 138^th from 170 finishers, again a wee bit further from the front than I would have liked.

 

Troon 10k, Wednesday 13^th May

I entered this race for sentimental reasons more than any cogent, though-out racing plan. More years ago than either of us care to remember my wife and I would spend a pleasant afternoon in Troon, I would run the 10k having first entered at the Walker Hall by filling in an A4 entry form and handed over my £4 or thereabouts and cap the day off by having fish and chips on the beach at Barassie watching the sun go down over Arran - happy days. Sadly the weather was not so nostalgic last midweek and Alison decided to stay at home (sensible girl) and so I travelled with a friend from one of my yoga classes and a Motherwell AC member, or MACs as they call themselves.

On what turned out to be a surprisingly dry evening well over 900 runners lined up for the 30^th running of what is probably one of the most perennially popular spring 10ks around. Although grateful for the lack of precipitation all the runners had to endure an extremely strong wind unusually coming from the north-west meaning we were blown along the prom from the gun but had to work very hard indeed on the way home. I grafted all the way round so was mildly dejected to finish in 48:50, which seemed to improve on subsequent reflection. My travelling companion Helen meanwhile struggled home in 57:52, a consequence perhaps of the training required for a 14 mile leg at the Fling relay ten days before. Managing to miss each other completely at the finish area we eventually met up again back at her car fully 30 minutes after I had crossed the line so most of the journey home was spent holding my hands over the car heaters trying to restore some feeling to my fingers!

Photos courtesy of Kenny Philips and Gillian Scott of Scott Sports Photography respectively

 There were 933 finishers and the race was won very impressively by ex-harrier Stuart Gibson who had over a minute in hand over the second place runner. I did see him later in the hall doing his best impression of Alf Tupper getting stuck into a helping of fish and chips (I think there’s a theme developing here, Troon = fish and chips)

All in all maybe not the weather I remember but as always a very well-organised and enjoyable local race. Nostalgia just ain't what it used to be...

Auldhouse Time Trial, Thursday 14^th May

Not too much to say about this as Coach has already reported on our first time trial of the year but suffice to say I was delighted to almost break the 24 minute mark with a strong 24:07, on the day after Troon. 

Penicuik 10k, Saturday 9^th May

This was my 'race too far', the day the wheels came off, big time, as I struggled badly from the 1k to 2.5k marks but still recovered during the run to manage a strong finish. Again I won’t bore you by repeating what Martin has already said in his excellent report but I can confirm the locals were very friendly, that hill was ever so big and the home baking afterwards was wonderful.

To give you a clearer idea of the climbing involved the elevation of our time trial course is 44m whereas the Penicuik race route has a elevation of 138m (according to my GPS)  

Depressingly (there’s that word again) I have just checked and my time of 52:33 is the slowest 10k of my life. With hindsight perhaps I should not have pushed my luck any further after Auldhouse and stayed at home on Saturday but would then have missed a lovely day out, a large part of the credit for which goes to my fellow traveller Martin Howell. Cheers Mart

 

You will all be delighted to hear there will not be any more reports from me at least until after the 20th June, so you can relax until then.