 |
| Team Rae at BoO, with hindsight maybe Ian is looking a bit gubbed at this point |
|
 |
| The five-strong Team Searil at BoO, the sixth (Jim) was taking all the photos |
Despite Ruth’s best efforts I had lost another eight minutes
during this leg on my 2015 time and was now only fourteen minutes ahead
overall, with hindsight the twenty minutes spent at BoO, pleasant though it
was, might have been reduced.
Bridge of Orchy to Glencoe
Although Ian and Frances left the CP ahead of us Gerry and I
caught them within a few hundred yards as he had had to pay the bears in the
woods a visit. Gerry and I pushed on and collected our jelly babies from Murdo
McEwan, on his annual vigil at the top of the hill (this hill, Mam Carraigh, is
far better known to WHWR runners as ‘jelly baby hill’ thanks to Murdo's efforts, indeed some don’t
recognise the correct name when they hear it). Approaching the Inveroran Hotel (we
briefly speculated if Davy and Russell would still be there from the club relay!)
we checked behind and could see Ian and Frances away back near the top of the
hill and passed on this information to Angela, who was waiting for him. Sadly
this was to be the last I saw of Ian and his team as he withdrew from the race
here having run a valiant 62 miles on a dodgy foot, a creaking achilles tendon
and no training for the best part of three months - incredible. Ian has nothing
to reproach himself for, he gave it his best shot and did better than he had
any right to expect given his circumstances, chapeau my man!
Stop Press: Ian ran the Clyde Stride ultra last Saturday and completed the forty mile route in 7:09:17 to finish in 53rd place, clearly on the comeback trail.
Gerry and I continued, fairly steadily if slowly, along the
road to Victoria Bridge and here caught a friend and her support runner which
meant we all had fresh company for the next few plodding miles up onto and
across the moor. It turned out the support runner, although now living in
Tyndrum, was from Westwood originally and we ended up discussing teachers at
Duncanrig we remembered. The girls eventually pulled away from us as I was
unable to run as much I would have liked and we also spent some time when Gerry
made like a mountain goat and scrambled down to the waters edge at Ba Bridge to
get us both some fresh water. Although by now it was approaching seven o’clock
on the Saturday evening there was still plenty of heat in the day and the
refreshing liquid was both necessary and welcoming.
Alison and Ruth were ready and waiting once more as we
plodded up the White Corries (is it still called that?) car park at Glencoe CP.
We were ten minutes down on the leg from 2015 and a mere four minutes ahead overall.
Still not wishing to rush things I spent nearly twenty minutes here re-fuelling
and getting better prepared than last time for the night ahead. I/we decided
discretion was the better part of valour and opted for leggings, winter jacket,waterproof
breeks, buff, gloves and hat. I didn’t wear them all as it wasn’t yet that cold
but it was definitely cooler. The team had a tough job trying to get my
leggings on over my shoes, note for next year – take the shoes off first. I
can’t report what I ate or drank here but whatever I was handed, and said I
didn’t want, I was told I had to eat and
to get on with it. I have no idea if there were still chips available at the
café this year Jim, you’ll need to ask the team!
Glencoe to Kinlostleven
I had cooled down very noticeably and had most of my gear on
by the time Ruth and I reached Kingshouse. Finally beginning to warm up we ran
through here and couldn’t help but notice the large, partly-built bunkhouse
taking shape – this place will have changed enormously by next year. Another
slow plod followed along the glen to Altnafeadh at the foot of the Double Staircase
where I would love to report I bounded up like a hill-runner but the truth is I
walked the entire climb and must have stopped twenty times or so to catch my
breath. Ruth tried to be kind and say it was less than ten but I know better. I
decided part way up that I was going to have a seat on the cairn at the top to allow
my heart rate to slow and avoid the near vomiting from last year at this point,
yet another improvement - marginal gains, that’s the term Team Sky use. Having
allowed a few guys past while sitting down Ruth and I soon re-passed them and
were on our way to Kinlochleven. If you’ve run this section you’ll know how
rocky, uneven and downright difficult to negotiate this part of the way is and
with seventy odd miles in my legs and darkness all around us I did not attempt
to run any of it. The big downhills especially seemed beyond the capabilites of
my quads by now although I was to be surprised in that regard later. Gerry was
waiting for us near the bottom of the pipelines and I think I’m right in saying
we ran some of the way across the river, through the housing scheme (Wade’s
Road, I noticed!) and across the main road to the Leisure Centre. I imagine
support crews of years ago would have given their right arms for the use of the
centre as apparantly the CP used to be out in the open air – in KLL, of all
places - midge central. Aghhh!
Incidentally it was here at KLL as Alison pulled up in the car park after the drive from Glencoe she suggested they get their heads down while they had the chance if Gerry 'could snore for her sleeping'. Cue lots of laughter, she must have been very tired!
I arrived at 01:35 and would have been cheered to learn we
had made it in twelve minutes less than my ‘lean’ section of last
year which put me sixteen minutes ahead overall. I was oblivious to all that at
the time, probably as I was feeling much better and hadn’t once thought about
not finishing. Here I was weighed by Sarah and Julie who were once again
manning the CP (which involves the second-longest stint of any race helpers) and
was for a second time relieved to hear ‘that’s fine’ and was led to a seat and
a bowl of home-made macaroni cheese. KLL was the subject of our major changes to
our planning, hopefully having learned lessons – a ten minutes stay only,
didn’t sit down at all, didn’t eat anywhere near enough and headed off
under-dressed for the ‘summer’ weather we were about to have unleashed upon us.
To quote from our CP notes ‘NB *MUST* spend more time here preparing for the
final haul up the Lairig’. Never mind me, I can recall describing Jim’s gear to
someone a few days later – shorts, a jacket you could spit peas through and a
buff over his head – totally inadequate for a middle-of-the-night ascent from Kinlochleven then up and across
the Lairig Mor in torrential rain. Nor was I much better prepared – bring back
any (horrible) memories Jim? Those elementary (first-timers) mistakes had very
nearly cost me (us) a finish last time out and we were determined not to repeat
them.
As a consequence I spent a full thirty minutes here trying
and narrowly failing to finish my pasta (nice though it was Alison!) drinking
loads of coffee and topping up my waist-pack with enough food and drink to take
me to Lundavra, taking two painkillers as a precaution plus fresh batteries for
my head-torch. The result of which was Gerry and I heading away through the
quiet streets fifteen minutes behind time, again not something I was then fully
aware of.
Kinlochlost to Lundavra
The climb up out of
Kinlochleven may have been a slow and difficult slog but then that wasn’t
really surprising as it was by now some eighty miles and twenty five hours since
the air horn had sounded back at the underpass in Milngavie. Silently grateful
for the pleasant night we had been blessed with (I was almost religiously thankful after last year!)
I followed Gerry up out of the trees and
finally could see the path (it was another clear night) winding it’s way up the
glen ahead of us. It was as the gradient lessened at last that I began to feel
drowsy and eventually (having done a quick Ruth-inspired body scan) concluded
it was the pills which were having an unintended effect - instead of deadening any pain they were
simply shutting my systems down. On reflection later I also realised my body
was craving sleep as it was now 03:00’ish on my second consecutive night
without any. Whatever the reasons I had quite a shock when I very briefly fell
asleep while walking along the track. The realisation of the extent of my
tiredness jolted me awake and everything slowly started to improve from then
on.
I had persuaded Gerry I needed to stop for a seat outside
one of the ruined shielings when another runner and support came along
complaining of exactly the same feeling as I. In one of my more inspired
moments I jumped (slid would likely be a more accurate description!) up off my
ar*e and suggested we walk along together. The fresh company and subsequent
introductory chat helped all of us, particularly Liz, Robert’s support runner,
as she very soon revealed her worries of what she could do should he keel over
in the middle of nowhere.
I had been telling the others about the Wilderness Response
Team who last year had been a very welcome sight about a mile from the top of
the Lairig so when they weren’t where I expected we were all a little
disappointed. By the time the path turned north Robert had to sit down for a
wee while and, reassured by Liz’s by-now more confident attitude we left them
only to run into the WRT set-up a few hundred yards later. They offer a
bewildering array of drinks (I didn’t know you could still get Lilt and Tizer
anymore) including, as I found out later, whisky – just as well I didn’t know that
at the time.
 |
| A welcome sight for weary runners |
It was also lovely to discover that Patricia, a Portugese girl I’d got
to know a little at the 50/100k in Perth earlier this year, was there. Jeff,
the other half of the team, told us the current state of the track was such
that they could no longer get their 4 x 4 down to where they had been the
previous year which allowed Gerry to launch yet another moan about the poor
condition of the way here, he couldn’t believe folk come from all over the
world and are expected to walk on this boulder-field of a route. Girn over we
also told them about Robert coming just behind us and Jeff immediately went to
put the kettle on to make a strong coffee for him – what difference this made to
him we’ll never know for sure but he did finish.
I should mention here that from about half way I had been
worrying every now and again about my ‘lean’. If you read my account of last
years’ race then you’ll remember I finished looking like a drunken sailor and
feeling ten times worse. Every little stumble in a rightwards trajectory caused
me to evaluate just how perpendicular I was. I am pleased to report that,
despite my worries (and that of Alison and Ruth who witnessed it first-hand),
there was no repeat this year, in fact the very opposite. Although I walked the
remainder of the way to Lundavra and up the hill beyond I was to have a very
different finish to 2015.
The CP came into view at around 05:30 (thirty minutes ahead
of last time) and with me in a very decent state, both physically and mentally - nice one Gerry.
 |
| The team at Lundavra at 05:45 on Sunday morning - we've probably all looked better! |
Only a fifteen minute stop here as opposed to 2015’s twenty
five resulted in us heading up and away forty minutes to the good.
Lundavra to Fort William
I was
slowly making my way up the hills as we headed in the direction
of Glen Nevis but, after being overtaken by a couple of runners, my mojo
suddenly returned without warning but with a vengeance. I consciously told
myself to treat the remaining miles as a race (yes, I know, it was always a
race but it is more against yourself than others) and to rouse (use) my competitive
instincts. I still haven’t asked what Ruth and Gerry said to each other as I
suddenly took off (I’m not being boastful here, it’s the best way I can think
of to describe my transfomation). I went from constant walking to, without any
warning from me, to running, first the downhills, then the flats and then, after
ninety-odd miles and two nights on my feet actually running a lot of the
uphills too! It felt bloody marvellous, at times I felt like crying - I was so high. I should point out Ruth was feeding me Alison’s home-made tablet
all the while this was going on in the same way a relay runner passes the baton
to the next runner which meant I didn't have to break stride. As usual I think a combination of reasons were at work here
– I’d got through a second night, my
body clock was moving into daytime mode again, I was strong, well-fed, the weather
was fine (Scots' for not raining!), I absolutely knew
I was going to finish and my team were all with me, both literally and
metaphorically, so why not gie’ it some laldy?
What a way to finish a ninety five mile race, the memory of running strongly down the fire road with Ruth and Gerry beside me will live in my memory forever, overshadowing the 2015 horror show of stumbling and struggling down towards the Braveheart carpark. I must admit I became a bit emotional once or twice while remembering my previous effort but managed, I think, to hide it from both of them although I'm not doing quite as well in that regards as I type this. A slight tiredness overtook me once we were on the dreaded tarmac in Glen Nevis which resulted in some more walking but we ran all the way from the old WHW finish to the Leisure Centre.
I had warned the guys that I didn't want them sloping away into the car park when I finished, as happened last year, so we stayed together while I rapped my knuckles on the car window to waken Alison. Then we could proceed to the front door of the centre as a group - an entirely appropriate reflection of the team effort that had got me there.
I clocked in at 30:43:13 - one hour, twenty eight minutes and twenty eight seconds faster than 2015. Aye, that'll do - the split from Kinlochleven was 1:11:38 better than then so most of the gain was made on that last section, just as we had hoped and planned. Much more important than the time was the fact that the team had got me to FW in one piece, upright and feeling great - well, as great as anyone can feel after covering ninety five miles!
Fort William
A very welcoming shower was had by all, probably the first thing I had had to do for myself since the race
started! This was followed by breakfast at The Great Glen, the Wetherspoons pub underneath the
Travelodge on the High Street. As you can see from the photos one or two of us just couldn't wait.
 |
| At least I finished my coffee before nodding off |
 |
| 'This crewing business was easier when I was younger' |
Sadly Gerry
couldn’t stay in Fort William for long as the following week was the last of
the
school year (Angela and Ian gave him a lift home) so missed
seeing me get the goblet which he, Alison and
Ruthhad worked so
hard to help me achieve.
 |
| Here it is Gerry, with a wee dram of Dalwhinnie single malt, courtesy of Ruth and Jim |
 |
| No spare seats in the house for the prizegiving. The runners are easy to spot, they're the ones wearing flip-flops. |
I really must thank my team/crew - Alison, Ruth and Gerry. Firstly to have a wife who is (nearly) happy
to do most of the preparation, give up her weekend, her sleep, any proper food and put up with my worse-
than-usual tantrums (WHW runners and toddlers have a lot in common) is utterly wonderful and gives me a
reason to go on when my prospects seem bleak. On top of that to have friends like Ruth and Gerry almost
has me in tears thinking about what they are willing to do in order for me to achieve my goal - I will never,
ever think of my goblets as a personal achievment, it will always be down to us - the group who helped and
cajoled me all the way to Fort Bill. Partly it was down to experience, last year was an enormous learning
curve for us and Gerry also has previous, having crewed this race in 1999 for Davie Gray. It's changed a
wee bit since then - only fifteen finishers with a further nineteen runners having been halted at Kingshouse due
to the weather, Davie finished in a very impressive tenth equal.
Some numbers
There were 199 starters, 159 finishers (a new record) and 40
DNFs, please note that almost exactly a fifth of the field did not finish –
this race has a fairly high attrition rate. The winner was James Stewart in
15.15.19, first female and 5th overall was Morgan Windram-Geddes
18.08.20. The race saw the oldest ever finisher and only the second over
seventy finisher (at 70 years and 10 months) in Rob Reid who came home in 29.58.19
for 132nd place and the oldest ever female finisher in 64 year-old
Norma Bone of the Harmeny club in 33.26.37, 154th place – see below
a report on Teletext (something else I didn’t know you could still get).
 |
| Note the quote from Ian Beattie |
Fiona Rennie earned her twelth goblet finishing in 145th
place in a time of 32.12.08, I was 135th in a
time of 30.43.13 see picture below and just ahead of
Fling/WHWR legend Andy Cole who came home five
minutes later.
Adrian Stott of the Run and Become shop in Edinburgh
collected his fifteenth goblet in a
time of
33.28.57 to equal the record for the most ever finishes,
only one more Adrian and the record is
yours alone.
On sober analysis of my splits I clearly ran the lower three
sections of the race much quicker than last year gaining some 46 minutes by the
time I reached Beinglas farm despite the slower route , was this the effect of
having Ian close by and in ‘competition’ for the first time? Perhaps. I then
started to struggle, confirming how I felt at the time, to Auchtertyre losing
24 minutes and, unexpectedly, 8 minutes by BoO and another 10 minutes to
Glencoe. From then on it was all gain,
12 minutes to KLL and 72 minutes to FW. Having had some time to ponder these
numbers I suspect a slightly slower first half might have resulted in a sub-30
hour finish but only another attempt will prove that assertion. Oops, did I
just say that? Please don’t anyone tell Alison.
Splits
|
|
|
2015
|
2016
|
gain/loss
|
|
Overall
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Milngavie
|
to
|
Balmaha
|
4.15.45
|
3.56.28
|
-19mins
|
|
-19mins
|
Balmaha
|
to
|
R'dennan
|
2.12.01
|
1.57.06
|
-15mins
|
|
-34mins
|
R'dennan
|
to
|
Beinglas
|
4.31.33
|
4.19.29
|
-12mins
|
|
-46mins
|
Beinglas
|
to
|
Aucht'tyre
|
2.34.28
|
2.58.15
|
+24mins
|
|
-22mins
|
Aucht'tyre
|
to
|
BoO
|
2.56.33
|
3.04.34
|
+8mins
|
|
-14mins
|
BoO
|
to
|
Glencoe
|
3.29.38
|
3.39.14
|
+10mins
|
|
-4mins
|
Glencoe
|
to
|
KLL
|
4.39.25
|
4.27.27
|
-12 mins
|
|
-16mins
|
KLL
|
to
|
FW
|
7.32.18
|
6.20.40
|
-72mins
|
|
-88mins
|
In conclusion, the afore mentioned John Munro wrote a report of his
race this year and I would like to quote his final words as I recognise some of
my own feelings in his prose.
'While I may not run it again for a while I will definitely
be involved in one way or another. The race itself is one of the great races in
the world. Through familiarity we probably underestimate just how stunning the
course is, but the journey northwards from Milngavie is something I never tire
of.
There is so much more to the West Highland Way Race than the
course. It is the sort of event which always teaches you lessons, lessons about
community, about shared endeavours and about triumph over adversity, about
humility, trust and the importance of friendship. There is something
intrinsically noble about undertaking a grand adventure and there is something
optimistic about running towards something, even if it is slightly quixotic and
even if that something is only a leisure centre door 95 miles away.
Why do you keep running when it gets tough? Well for
starters you are always running towards your crew who have given up so much
time and sleep because they believe in you, how can you let them down? Every
single person in the West Highland Way race family is willing you to succeed, how
can you not go on? Ultimately it is because you have committed to do something
and must see it through. If you don’t see it through, you don’t win the prize
To quote the late David Bowie “We can be heroes, just for
one day”
I can imagine no better place to watch heroes than somewhere
on the West Highland Way in the middle of June.'
And to think I used to say that I didn’t like
the 'added' pressure of running with a support crew – not any more – now I love
it and them. Quite simply, without them it couldn't happen - many, many thanks again guys.
Postcript: someone asked me on the Sunday what my next race would be and, despite racking my brains, I couldn't answer. On checking when I got home I discovered why - there were no ultras remaining on my 2016 schedule! What? How did that happen? Clearly, failing to get into the Devil O'The Highlands (no second triple crown this year) had knocked me for six and had left me incapable of coming up with alternatives. Post WHWR there were no worries, problem solved, I entered two on the same day, both of which I've done before. Run the Blades (50k), this coming Saturday, which is easily my most local ultra only six miles from the house and where Kay will be making her ultra debut (no hiding now Kay!) and the Speyside Way (36.5m) which is a lovely 'wee' race through some prime whisky country - what's not to like?
