So, on the back of my attempt at the Marathon earlier in year and wanting to find out if I had anything else to help me go a bit better – I signed up for the Baxter’s Loch Ness event back in May, just to see.
“Don’t worry Lorraine – I’ll stick to the training plan this time, I’m sure it’ll work” I calmly re-assured my long-suffering wife. “Well, I think you’re a headbanger” was her encouraging retort.
As the weeks and months progressed, I did manage to tick off a good slice of the runs prescribed to me by the Runners World Asics Marathon Runners Training Plan! Crucially though the only ones I missed were the 20’s and the 22’s – shouldn’t matter I thought, a couple of extra laps at the Heritage Park will see me alright. In all seriousness though, I did manage some 16’s and an 18 and just about every other distance short of that together with really getting my money’s worth at this years TTC (cheers Eddie!), my endurance running was beginning to look up compared to the prep I did for Manchester.
Fast forward to the Thursday before the race, I’m driving along in my car and suddenly realised that no number had been posted to me for the event. PANIC. Going straight on their website I learned that registration was on Saturday between 10am and 6pm, ooft, glad I checked that small detail! Nice strategy to get everyone in Inverness on Saturday to boost the local economy, I mused.
Jim Mearns had made a late decision whether or not to enter the event following his WHW medical challenge but had taken the very diligent step of booking accommodation just in case. As it turned out, when he did decide that he was going to give it a bash the event was full and therefore closed to entries. A real pity, it would’ve been good to have ran another (or at least half of another) with him though in the end we simply changed the booking arrangements for me to use the room instead of him. Buddied this time with Mrs H, we set off on Saturday to be on the banks of the River Ness in plenty of time.
Registration taken care off we set off for our accommodation which was only 10 minutes from the event hub, an early dinner at a local Italian eatery and heads (well mine anyway) on the pillow by 10pm. Breakfast, much to the landlady’s disgust, had been arranged for 6am and for those of you who aren’t familiar with the event, read on and you’ll see why.
Usual breakfast before a long run and I was ready to go. Flip belt loaded with all my accoutrements, gels, more different flavoured gels, salbutamol, plasters and some paracetamol (Jim M’s great idea) I was on my way for the 10 minute jog round to the area where it seemed Stagecoach’s entire fleet of Highland based buses were parked. 7.30am departure time, no exceptions, latecomers will not be catered for, was the resounding message!
On my way, I heard my name being hollered. It was Graeme Lindsay, who along with his brother in law, Gerry, had also made the trip north. So, we all walked the remainder of the way and were efficiently herded on to a waiting double decker.
Shortly afterwards our convoy of a thousand buses set-off in the dark on a magical mystery tour of Loch Ness.
Nearing our destination (an hour and 20 minutes later), my immediate thought was that the driver had taken the wrong turn. We were in the middle of nowhere - I kid you not. The rain was battering down, the wind a relentless 40mph coming out of the West and here we were at the start, almost an hour and half until the gun!
I was half expecting to see Tom Weir come over the moor with his wooly bunnet and shepherds crook telling odes and tales of the Jacobean uprising in 1745!
Nearly 5000 runners milling around on a moor on a Sunday morning in weather best suited to penguins - it was a sight, some of the runners actually resembled penguins. There was a queue of about 500 waiting for a complimentary cup of tea and a queue 4 times that waiting to use one of the dozen portaloo’s. Brian Burnett, compere extraordinaire was there braving the elements, on the mike talking gibberish (I’m convinced these people are paid by the word). “It’s not a good look” he proclaimed as he discouraged people from having a pee in the trees! Aye right, well get another 200 bogs then.
I cowered behind an ambulance (funny they should have one at the start line?) out of the wind for 45 minutes before hesitantly making my way down the start line. Bumping in to my old pal Ian Birch of marathon madness, we had a bit of banter as we went and then I met Ian Hughes. Together we walked through the starting line up and down to nearer the front.
10am on the nose (thank the lord) the canon let loose and we were off. Through the avenue of pipes and drums just after the start line – sent a shiver down my spine – and off on the steep 3-mile downhill section which was inviting for sticking in a couple of 6 and half minute miles, but nope, this time I did have a plan and like glue, I was sticking to it.
Keeping a toe on the brake pedal I descended the hill running at the planned 8m/m pace that I had drilled in to my head time and time again. The hill rolled out and we were undulating, Ian was off, away in front, see you at the end then! A real stinger of a climb about 4m really brought my recent TTC experience the fore “kick down to 1st gear, keep jogging” was coach AD’s advice then, and before long we were up and over it.
Through 13m in 1h 44m, the plan was going well, the pace was consistent. Water stations, jelly baby offerings, High 5 Energy this that and the next thing on offer, it was like running through the Barr’s factory. I must admit though they had an Isotonic drink in paper cups which was amazing stuff – like Red Bull for runners. After a mouthful of that – whoosh – re-energised and onwards.
As predicted and as expected my plan played out in that by mile 19 I was beginning to lose the pace and although I had factored it in I had a real wobble at 20.5m just after the big hill (which I managed to jog up most of, just a short walk near the top), having to stop and take off my long sleever whilst talking utter nonsense to a spectator. She was very supportive though “I’ve got a packet of plain crisps there if you want them?” Very sweet of her, I thought better of having a picnic at the side of the road and got on my way again. Her hospitable sentiment paid off and I managed another decent mile followed by a much slower one, then a good one, a slower one and an even jog in to the line.
It’s incredible that when you’re depleted of energy and all the stores have been used up and you literally are willing yourself to get to the end, the things that go through your head just to get you there. I had that very experience and I must say the old autopilot thing worked.
Round the river, over the bridge, along the promenade, the crowds building, Brian Burnett on the mike still wittering on, suddenly I hear Lorraine from the side-lines shouting me on for the last 200m, “I’ll meet you at the inflatable Nessie” she shouted. Eh, oh aye right you are then.
Across the line 3.43.11 on the watch and 3 seconds quicker on their chip, I was delighted to have chipped just shy of 13 minutes out of my Manchester time on an arguably harder course. But this time there was a plan, it wasn’t pie in the sky like the last outing on this distance.
My post long run demons immediately set about me as soon as I stopped running in the form of the lactic bomb that exploded in my legs. But ne’er mind Lorraine did meet me at the big Nessie with a much-needed bottle of Irn Bru. We passed on the purvey that was on offer, to be honest, a plate of stovies was the farthest thing on mind at that point.
Before long and after I had recovered a wee bit, we were in the car with Lorraine at the wheel heading south on the A9 chatting about our wee trip to the Highlands.
Another medal, another T-shirt, another story to tell, another marathon! Done and dusted!
As usual, here’s my usual round -up of the action.
Isaiah Kosgei 1st place
2.29.31
Metro Aberdeen
Katie White
1st Lady
2.42.03
Garscube
Ian Hughes
27 m50
3.26.40
Graeme Lindsay 89 m40
3.33.50
Martin Howell 58 m50
3.43.08
