When Dreams Come True

It’s difficult to describe the events of last weekend. Normally after a race, you can summarise it fairly concisely as the events happened over a relatively short space of time. The UTMB is different. I have been trying to come up with a phrase that would give it credit, that would convey the physical and emotional extremes that it puts you through and the sheer scale of the whole event and the best I can come up with is “EPIC”

I do not intend trying to put down every detail of the race from start to finish, to do so would be a physical challenge in itself and I do not have the appropriate literary skills to do it justice and so what follows is a summary of my race and some of the highs and lows that made this one of the most amazing experiences of my life.

Ready To Go

The start of the race was delayed by 5 hours to allow a storm front to pass over but it was still raining heavily when we set off on Friday night at 11:30pm. 2,300 gortex clad runners elbowing their way through the centre of Chamonix to the cheers of the equally bedraggled crowds until we eventually disappeared into the darkness. Despite the huge number of runners, it is eerily quiet with everyone lost in their own thoughts and the mix of nationalities and languages preventing much conversation.
I trotted along at a steady pace trying to take in the atmosphere and get my head around the fact that this was actually it. This was the race I had been thinking about for 2 years and that had kept me awake at night for the last month as I went over and over the possible outcomes.
The rain continued to fall making the ground increasingly muddy and the first main climb out of Les Houche and down to St Gervais was like something out of It’s a Knockout with runners slipping and falling all over the place. St Gervais was my first taste of a UTMB checkpoint and it was amazing. 3 o’clock in the morning and there is a full on party happening. Music is blaring, there are people everywhere shouting and waving and runners looking startled as they emerge out of the darkness into the bright lights of the town centre.

The checkpoints are all pretty much set up in the same way with two rows of tables, one with food listed as “salty” one listed as “sweet”. There is also tea, coffee, coke, energy drink and soup. They are fabulous and I was initially somewhat taken aback as to what I should eat. I went for the soup in the end and some cake, cheese, ham, dark chocolate and coke (breakfast of kings!) and this was generally the pattern I followed at each one.
Feeling re-energised I set off out of the checkpoint and immediately bumped into Ian King. Ian had started last year but was a victim of the poor texting service when the race was stopped and then re-started the next day. He was back to complete some unfinished business and I am delighted to say that he went on to finish in around 44 hours looking strong.
I was running comfortably and reached the next checkpoint, filled up with what was becoming my standard fare and then ran on. I had lost track of Ian through here and left on my own unsure if he was ahead of me or behind me. The first main climb was looming however and so I found my rhythm and headed onwards and upwards.
The Col du Bonhomme sits at 2,500m and was the first real test of my climbing skills. On the early part of the climb, I was struggling to stay awake and found myself staggering from side to side as I kept dozing off. Luckily, the next checkpoint appeared and, full once more, I continued on the steepening climb into the gradually lightening sky. I actually found this climb not too bad and went over the top feeling quite please with how it had gone. The descent, however was a different kettle of fish and I gingerly plodded my way all the way down the other side for what felt like an eternity with my knees protesting at each drop.
It was now fully light although still cloudy and quite cool with no sign of the sun offering to make an appearance. Into the next checkpoint, fill my boots (not literally) and off out again onto a long road section gradually gaining height. Not long out of the checkpoint, John Malcolm appeared beside me and the two of us shared our experiences so far and pushed along the road steadily passing people the whole way. John and I would end up running together pretty much all the way into Courmayer (half way) from here with each of us taking turns to keep the other going.
We left the road and set off up the next long climb and again I was feeling strong and set a good steady rhythm although John was finding the climb hard and so tucked in behind me. As we got higher, it started to get colder and eventually the snow came on. By the time we got to the top, it was a full on blizzard and I was wearing all my gear including hat and gloves. Not wanting to linger, we pressed on over the top and started the descent down and out of the worst of the weather towards the Lac Combal checkpoint. Just before we got there we met up with George Reid who was having a tough time but still going strong so the three of us came into the checkpoint together.

Just Like Being at Home

It was now around lunchtime on Saturday and the clouds were finally starting to clear to let us see the landscape in which we had been running. It was quite stunning with high peaks all around and hanging glaciers sitting in between each one. It is not easy to concentrate on your footing when you’re trying to take in such amazing scenery. It was warming up now and I started to shed some of my excess clothing as we climbed up to the next summit. Still feeling pretty good I set a steady pace up the climb with George and John for company. Over the top and the long, long descent down into Courmayer.
The descent starts fairly gently down to the aid station aid but then takes a cruel turn and the drop down into Courmayer itself is s series of never ending switchbacks with the occasional glimpse of Courmayer through the forest which never seemed to get closer. Finally we were spat out onto the road and with quivering, tired legs I trotted into the main checkpoint to pick up my drop bag and regroup.
Courmayer is the half way point in terms of mileage but certainly not in terms of stage in the race. Despite that; as I sat eating my pasta (well, we were in Italy now!) I was thinking to myself “15 hours to here, OK, lets double that to make 30 hours and add 2 or 3 hours to allow for slowing down – hmmm, that’s about 33 hours! Bloody hell I’m going well” How naïve I was but in my defence, I was tired and not thinking straight.
I changed my socks and put on a clean shirt before packing up and heading off out the door. I had, however, made one fatal mistake. I had put some Vaseline in my drop back with the intention of reapplying it to certain areas but for some reason decided against it and set off without doing so. I don’t wish to go into too many details but suffice to say, later in the race I experienced some of the worst “butt chaffage” it has ever been my misfortune to suffer!
John had left just ahead of me and George was still in the checkpoint when I left so I was on my own again. On the steep pull out of the town I passed John again and kept up a strong pace up through the forest to the next checkpoint. I was still feeling quite good after my stop at Courmayer so was in and out of the next checkpoint quickly and set off along the runnable path that traverses the valley. It was starting to get cold again as the sun was beginning to set but the view to my left was staggering. Mont Blanc was completely clear and the snow capped peaks surrounding it made an amazing sight in the fading light. The wind was picking up now and with the sun having gone it was getting colder. I tried to pick up the pace to generate some heat as I wasn’t yet back in my warmer gear and found that I was running well and keeping up a strong pace. I dropped down to the checkpoint and set about putting on all my warm gear once more.
By now, I had been going for around 22 hours and although I was still running, I was getting tired, my knees were hurting a bit and I had a couple of blisters forming on my feet and so coming out of the checkpoint I had my first low point of the race. I think it was a combination of the increasing cold and wind and the fading light but for no apparent reason I suddenly started feeling really emotional and before I knew it, the tears were streaming down my face! I wasn’t sad, I wasn’t in pain, I was actually enjoying the race but for some reason, I was crying – go figure.
Anyway, I was setting off up the next big climb but decided that before I did I would call home so I sheltered behind a rock and spent 5 minutes talking to Eve and the kids. It was great to hear them and it gave me the boost I needed to get back in the game.
The light was fading fast and the temperature continued to drop so I put my head torch on and pressed on upwards and onwards. I was starting to flag a bit now and struggled to keep the pace high enough but eventually a glow of light in the distance signaled the summit and after getting my number scanned I dropped down over the top and almost straight away, the wind disappeared. I latched on to another small group who were making good progress down the descent in what was now pitch darkness and despite my increasing fatigue and knee pain, I managed to stay with them as we wound our way down to the next checkpoint at La Foully.
This checkpoint was really busy and, as it turned out later, was where a lot of people decided to drop out. I met up with Jamie Thin and Bob Allison here and we compared our various levels of exhaustion and mood but set off separately.
The next stage to Champex Lac was a very dark section through the woods and my headtorch was used to full effect. However, as an added bit of interest, I had now started experiencing tunnel vision. It was a bizarre sensation and quite worrying at first as I didn’t know whether it was a symptom of something more serious. I decided just to crack on and see what it was like once I got back into some natural light.
After 20 minutes or so I caught up with Jamie Thin and Richard ? and we chatted away as we started the climb up to the next checkpoint, first passing a rather strange mobile disco set-up where our numbers were scanned. We assumed that the food stop would be immediately after but the climb continued and there was no sign of any life up ahead. Jamie and Richard were really struggling by now with both wanting food and sleep so we stopped briefly to take on a gel before carrying on only to come out at the feed station about 5 minutes later.
This is another major checkpoint and as well as the usual food and drink, there are camp beds laid out so that runners can have a sleep if they want. Jamie and Richard both decided that they would go and lie down for 20 minutes but I knew that if I lay down I would struggle to get going again. At this checkpoint, I met up with an English guy called Neil who had done the race last year and was feeling strong so we decided to head off together. Because of the previous night’s storms, they had changed the route at this point and instead of heading up Bovine, we were directed down to Martigny for an alternative climb and an extra 8k. The descent went on forever, and we descended through endless forests dropping further and further before what we knew would be the inevitable climb back up. My knees were really hurting now and the steep descent was hard going but we pressed on and eventually reached the bottom as daylight started to break.
We stopped at the bottom of the descent and got out of our excess gear as the day was promising to be very warm. After a somewhat unnecessary trip through the woods , we started out on what would be the penultimate climb of the day but what a climb! Up until now, the climbs had tended to meander and zig zag their way to the summits; this one however took a more direct route – straight up. For the next 1,000M we didn’t bend or turn but took a direct line which was to prove the final demise of my diminishing strength. Neil climbed strongly and so I tucked in behind him, put my head down and tried not to look up desperately hoping to see the approaching summit.
Eventually we topped out and after a short break, set off down to Trient, our next checkpoint. It is difficult to say which was worse, climbing or descending. I was in a lot of pain when I bent my knees and so climbing was hard going as I tried to lift my feet up and forward and coupled with the effort required to drag my body upwards, climbing was not good. Descending on the other hand was no better, the impact of dropping down each step was also causing my knees a lot of pain and the blisters on my feet; which had long since burst, objected to being forced forward in my shoes on each step. However, I knew that we were getting closer to the end and so pressed on. I can honestly say that at no point during the whole race did I ever contemplate dropping out. As far as I was concerned, that was not an option and as long as I was ahead of the cut-offs and could walk, I would keep going.
We stopped at Trient checkpoint and refueled before setting off on the final climb. My mind seemed to have gone into a state of numbness and looking up at the next climb, there was no dread or concern but just an acceptance of that’s what we had to do so we would just go and do it. I took the lead on this climb with Neil behind and although not fast, I managed a steady pace for most of the way but was now really struggling with the combination of fatigue and knee and foot pain. I was letting more and more people past now and when the summit finally came it was met with both relief and dread at the prospect of another descent. Neil had been holding back to keep me company but it was clear that he was stronger than me at this stage and so I urged him to press on and I would see him at the finish. So for the first time in around 6 hours, I was on my own and to be honest, that suited me now. I needed to really retreat into my thoughts now and try to maintain a focus on keeping moving. The climb had taken just over an hour and the descent took my 1½ hours of painful shuffling and staggering but the final checkpoint finally came into view and I shuffled in with growing relief that it should be easy going from here to the finish.
After a brief visit to the medical tent (remember my chaffing issues!) I set off into the full sun for the final 12k of trail down the valley into Chamonix. I had hoped that there would still be some running in my legs that would allow me to make up some time here and finish strongly but try as I might, I could manage no more that 20 or 30 strides before I had to stop and walk. The path was a very rocky route and each rock had to be carefully negotiated to avoid having to bend my knees up and forward. When this wasn’t possible, I would wince in pain as I stepped up and over. Occasionally I managed something resembling a shuffle before settling back into my metronomic walk - step, pole, step, pole.
My brain had now shut down and I was experiencing some very vivid hallucinations along this final stretch. Mostly heads and faces along the side of the path which I knew weren’t real but I could stare at them and almost felt like I could have reached out and touched them. There were also the minis. I kept seeing a pair of minis parked up ahead on the trail which was extremely frustrating as each time I saw them, I though the end of the trail was ahead and that I would be heading down into Chamonix for the finish only to get closer and realise that there was nothing there but more trail!
After four hours (for 12k!) Chamonix finally came into view and my heart lifted that it was all about to end. This moment that I had thought about and dreamed about for so long was about to happen. Throughout the race I had not allowed myself to think about the end, it was too far away and too many things could happen, so for the past 42 hours it had been one checkpoint at a time. Now it was here. I knew that there would be friends in Chamonix cheering me in and I also knew that, given that it was 5pm, Chamonix would busy with people. As I emerged onto the street and was directed onto the final run in I was struggling to hold it together. Determined to try and run this last few hundred yards I put on some kind of parody of a shuffle as the shouts of “Bravo”, “Courage” and “Allez” came my way.
I turned the final corner in towards the square and Karen and George were there along with Flip, John, Mark and Helen all cheering and shouting. Karen was talking to me telling which way to go and saying what a great job I had done but I couldn’t speak. I knew if I did I would completely break down and so I kept going. Karen handed me a Saltire and suddenly I was running – not fast but definitely running. I could see the finish line now, the announcer was shouting something in French I couldn’t understand but it didn’t matter, I was going to cross the line; bloody hell, I was actually going to do it!
Then it was over.
42 hours 35 mins (701st out of 2300 starters)
As soon as I crossed the line, Karen George and Flip were there to catch me and let me sit down. I felt completely elated but also completely helpless. They ushered me through the funnel, helped my pick up my gilet and get my wrist band cut-off and then gave me a seat and one of the best beers I have ever had.
I am incredibly touched by the support shown by my friends who were in Chamonix with me. Particularly George, Karen and Flip who despite their immense disappointment at not completing the event themselves cheered and shouted me home with genuine enthusiasm – you are special people; thank you.

Told You I could Do It!

Here's to the Dreamers - God bless us all!

I've always managed to live beyond my means. I'm not one to let a lack of ability, or talent prevent me from embarking on a course that perhaps a wiser or more rational head would have decided was folly.

This has manifested itself over the years in a number of ways; buying my first flat when I had no money, singing in a band when I couldn't sing, starting my own business without any real clue about what I was doing and running in ridiculously long races when I don't train enough. However, here I am, 45 years in to this life and when I pause and look back I realise that I wouldn't have done any of these if I hadn't taken that leap of faith each time. To hang on to that unshakeable belief that I could do these things if I really wanted to and to not loose sight of the dream.

I've always been a bit of a dreamer. Not your whimsical, "wouldn't it be great if I could fly!" type of dreamer but more practical, real things that focus your energies and give you a faint glimmer of hope that says "why not? - I could do that!" Life is too short to hang around and wait for things to happen, you need to go out there and get them. You need to make your own luck and have a hand in your own future and to grab the chances that present themselves to you. Enjoy these moments when they come, savour them and embrace them and recognise the fact that you made them happen.

Andy Cole spoke in his last blog about finishing the Ultra Tour of the Lake District 100 mile race and that whilst most people would summon up a run in the last half mile or so to finish strongly in front of the crowd, he prefers to take his time. He wants to enjoy these last few moments, to drink in the atmosphere, to recognise the applause, the enjoy the satisfaction of all the hard work and effort that has gone in to this moment. I like that. I have blogged in the past about "enjoying the journey" and this is exactly it. If my cup of life is filled to the brim then I am going to drink it down and enjoy every drop - and then go back for a refill!

So does all of this have some point? Am I going anywhere with this? Well in a little over two weeks time I'll be in Chamonix for the start of the UTMB, 105 miles and 29,000 feet of racing in what is the premier event of it's kind in Europe. Have I trained and prepared properly? - No. Am I experienced in races of this nature? - No. Do I believe I can do it? - Hell yes!

How can I honestly believe that I can do this? - Well, in my head, many times, I have run down the main street in Chamonix in the early hours of Sunday morning with the cheers and shouts of "allez, allez" and with the finish line coming in to view. I raise my arms as I cross the line; I've done it. So I can dream it and I can imagine it and I have deep, deep down belief that I can do it.

So to the other dreamers who are joining me in Chamonix, who want to grab a slice of life a savour every morsel along the way, I raise my glass and say "Salut - bon chance mes amis!"

Response to Comments

Thanks for all your comments on my last post - very helpful.
I'll take them one at a time if I may:
Tim - It's a long time since I've been referred to as a Youngster and for that, I thank you.
MtM - Wise words as ever and I will continue to seek out some hills - at walking pace.
John K - You're right when you say that if I don't go, I'll never know how I would have done.
Andy C - Your words probably struck the biggest chord with me. My own view has been that running is secondary in this event (except for the fast boys at the sharp end of the race). What is important is the ability to keep on going, to never give up and the finish line will surely come, Determination, I have in shed loads!
Ritchie - I admire your view and your TTFU attitude. There is some merit in that but I am wary of pushing too hard and setting myself back even further.
TM - Beer and whisky are always beneficial!
Debs - It is very difficult not to be influenced by the financial outlays made so far but you are right - what would my position be if these issues were set aside?
So, the upshot of all this is that I currently have no intention of pulling out. I will keep cross training like a demon, Climb hills when I can and keep the physio and stretching going so that hopefully, I'll be back to my ususal mediocre form in no time.
Stuart Mills posted recently about the Ultra Running community and the willingness of it's members to support and help each other irrespective of where you come at the finish line. Thank you to all who commented.

There's no going back now!

I have ran a total of 28 miles in May! - Given that I am in training for UTMB, a race which consists of 105 miles of trail and 29,000 feet of ascent, 28 miles is not very much.
14 of those miles were in the week following the Highland Fling and it was during them that I felt the pain in my ankle which has subsequently been diagnosed as Posterior Tibial Tendonitis. It appears it is a general overuse injury and I had hoped that with sufficient rest, stretching and icing it would clear up in a couple of weeks. Unfortunately, we are now four weeks down the line and after a brief 5 miles last night I can report that it is still painful.
I haven't been completely idle in the last month and I have been cycling and using the step machine in the gym but it's not quite the same. This is the time when I should be out there putting in big miles on big hills - but I'm not, and I'm worried.
With just under 3 months to go till UTMB I am seriously concerned about my ability to finish. So what do I do?
UTMB, for me at least, is likely to be a "once in a lifetime" event. I have paid my entrance fee, I have paid for my flights, I have bought some expensive new equipment so, in short, I've laid out a lot of dosh in order to take part. There is also the issue of the ballot. This year I was successful, next year I may not be. So I am loathe to pull out and see all this go to waste.
I have never yet DNF'd. Now I know that at some point this may happen but not yet and not in UTMB. Should I start and risk having to pull out part way through or should I DNS rather than DNF? I am stubborn bugger and I know that if I start, it will take a serious issue for me not to finish, but at what cost? Struggling on to complete a road marathon is a different kettle of fish to battling my way over some serious mountains after 40+ hours of effort.
So what do I do?
I plan to continue to cross train and hope that my ankle improves sufficiently to allow me some proper hill time prior to August. I'm not pulling out yet but at the moment I am struggling to get my mind to accept what my body is telling me!

More on the Fling

Thanks for the various comments on my last report. Many of them refer to the same suggestion of taking S Caps during the race to help replace lost salts - guess what? - I was!

I took one every hour so maybe that wasn't enough but I hope to find out a bit more after my visit to the Nutritionist on Monday.

From the photo below, you can see from my shirt just how much salt I had lost.

You can also tell that I was not in a particularly cheery, fresh state!

A few other pictures from the day:

Looking calm and relaxed before the start - little did I know what was to come!

Mustering before the start



Managing something almost like a run at the finish.

More of a Flop than a Fling

My fourth running of the Montane Highland Fling and I was feeling fairly positive and determined to get under 11 hours at last. I've never had a good run in this race despite being convinced I should be able to get nearer 10 hours - maybe this year would be different.
My problem in previous years has been debilitating cramp which kicks in around 30 miles or so and sees me hobbling between bouts of muscle spasms in my hamstrings and calfs. I had a new strategy this year and had changed my drink of choice and had even put in some ready salted crisps at the Inversnaid drop bag to prevent the dreaded 30 mile threshold.
The weather was stunning and I set of feeling good and reached Drymen in about 1:55 - slightly faster than I had planned but feeling very comfortable. I trotted up through what remains of the forrest and then started the climb up Conic Hill. As I reached the top and was admiring the view, my right hamstring cramped up! - I couldn't believe it - only 20 miles in and I was suffering already.
The rest of the race kind of went downhill from there! - I was mentally defeated by the time I reached Rowardennan and for the next 25 miles I shuffled along at a snails pace. Every time I started to run at a reasonable pace, my hamstrings would cramp up and then, after a while, obviously feeling left out, my calfs and quads decided to join in.
The heat didn't help I'm sure but I don't think that was the only cause. I had one spectacular moment climbing the hill just after going under the road at Carmyle cottage when my hamstring and quad both cramped at the same time! - It was impossible to stretch either of them as the opposing muscle just screamed in objection!
Anyway, the long and short of it was that I plodded on and crossed the line in a personal worst of 12 hours 5 mins feeling pretty pissed off. The icing on the cake was that I was told that the cold bottle of Coors that was meant to be given to each finisher wasn't there as they had run out!
So what to make of all this?
I'm sure my problems come from my hydration and nutrition strategy and so with this in mind, i've booked in to see a Nutritionist next Monday to get some advice. Hopefully this will give me some confidence back for the rest of the season. Despite running more miles so far this year than in the previous two years, I haven't had many long (25mile +) runs which I think made a difference.
On the positive side, I didn't give up, despite it crossing my mind a few times and although I wasn't able to run, I could have kept walking beyond Tyndrum so, with the reduced pace of UTMB in mind, that's no bad thing. However, what is also clear is that I need to get the finger out and put in some serious hill time and long miles.
As with every year though, the Fling is a fantastic race, superbly organised by Murdo and Ellen (despite running out of beer!) and I'm sure I'll be back next year to try and rid these deamons!

Mike Cudahy - Inspirational Words

I have just finished reading Mike Cudahy's book Wild Trails to Far Horizons - again. For those who haven't heard of Mike, he is one of our greatest "Ultra" runners whose achievements include being the first person to complete the 270 mile Pennine Way in under 3 days (on his 7th attempt) and he completed the "Coast to Coast" in under 2 days.

His book, "Wild Trails to far Horizons" is a fantastic tale of his adventures and achievements and his talent for running is matched by his talent for words. It was after completing his sub 2 day Coast to Coast run in what were challenging conditions to say the least and overcoming the mental battle to retire on a number of occassions that he wrote the following words which I thought captured the emotion and sense of fulfillment that I have shared on completing the West Highland Way. I hope he doesn't mind me quoting from his book.

"Never have I felt such sheer and simle joy at the end of a run. Moments such as these not only provide the answer to why one does things like this but why we are alive at all. One moment of such joy is worth far more than countless years of steady rational living. To have encountered hardship, discomfort, to have experienced one's physical, mental and spiritual limitations and weaknesses, to have found a path beyond them, not conquering them but accepting and yet transcending them, to have been supported, guarded and guided lovingly by friends represents, for me, a joy both sublime and supreme. I ask for no more."

If you haven't read his book - I would urge you to do so and see what running really is about.

Hill Reps

My training for Mont Blanc has begun in earnest and in an attempt to gauge my current "state" I thought I would head off last Friday and do some hill reps.
Now bearing in mind that Mont Blanc has around 29,000 foot of ascent, a few sprints up the hill from my house wasn't really going to cut it so I set off first thing in the morning to Rowardennan where there was a slightly larger hill to use.
It's been a long time since I climbed Ben Lomond but it all seemed very familiar as I headed up through the trees and onto the hillside. Four and a half hours later I returned to the car after two consecutive trips to the summit and back.
On the whole, I felt pretty good. As I suspected, my climbing is fairly solid and I can keep a good pace most of the way up. Where I struggle is on the descents, partly through being a wimp and partly due to my weak ankles but the path is generally pretty good and there were no mishaps.
I used my sons trekking poles for the first time and these were fanatstic for the climb and will be a very helpful addition to my kit list in August.
The main thing that came out of my hill session was that for the next two days my quads were really painful. This is down to the descents rather than the climbing and is something I need to work on over the next few months.
So there we go. The first of many trips to hills and and a taster of things to come. All together now - "Oh, the Grand Old Duke of York, he had....................."

UTMB! OMG! TTFU!

You know what they say, "be careful what you wish for" well, for the past few months I have been wishing for a place in this years UTMB - and guess what; this afternoon I got my wish.

http://www.ultratrailmb.com/

This is fantastic news but it does mean that things have to kind of get serious now. My training has gone really well over the last couple of months and, despite the poor weather, I managed my highest monthly mileage for 2 1/2 years in December! - thank goodness for micro-spikes. January has satrted off well and I've joined a gym to try and put in some strength work.

At the moment my weekly schedule looks something like this:

Monday - 6:30am gym

Tuesday - Steady 5 miles

Wednesday - either run to and from work (7 miles each way) or a 10 mile run in the evening

Thursday - 6:30am gym

Friday - run to and from work

Saturday - rest

Sunday - long run (15 - 20 miles)

This equates to around 50 miles per week and given my other committments is probably about as much as I can manage. I aim to take 1 day off work a month and do a long day in the hills and make one of my Sunday runs a month up around the 25-30 mile mark.

Now that the reality of have a place has sunk in, I'll need to have a look at my schedule and see what changes I need to make. I'll need to calm down first though!!!!!!

Me and my girl

Sunday morning, 7:00am, the first footprints on the West Highland Way and me and my girl spend 2 1/2 glorious hours running through the trails and woods.

An evening run

I had a hard few weeks with work. Clients were being overly demanding, staff were stressed and we were all working flat out. Tonight's run therefore was more for my head than my body.

I set off out of the door and turned up the road heading towards the woods that skirt around the golf course. The sky was still light and clear although the sun was starting to dip and a slight chill forced me to set off at a brisk pace to warm up. My legs felt great and the immediate release out into the fresh air felt good.

The first 1/4 mile is uphill and is always a a bit of a shock to my system as it wakes up to the realisation that it is going running but tonight felt comfortable from the start. I turned at the top of the road and joined the woodland path as it wound its way through the trees, my feet hardly making a sound on the soft earth but my thoughts still wrestling with the issues of the day and the problems of tomorrow. I disturbed a small deer who looked as shocked as me as I rounded a corner and it bounded away effortlessly as if teasing me to chase it.

My breathing was coming easily and steady as I sped along the path by the small loch, my legs had found a rythm now and I started to look around and take in my surroundings in the fading light.

The next two miles were all woodland path, a few steep climbs and one or two descents didn't disrupt my rythym and I kept pushing on, the sound of my breathing and footsteps accompanied by the evening birdsong as they found a roost for the night. There was no-one else around tonight, the usual dog walkers were done for the day and the golfers ensconsed at the 19th hole and I revelled in the glorious isolation as my mind started to clear and focus on the here and now.

I left the woods and turned onto the country lane that leads me further out on my route, a stiff climb up to Baldernock Church and I was breathing hard but clear and strong. My arms working as hard as my legs as I pushed to the top of the hill and headed out along quiet farm roads. I kept glancing over my shoulder to watch the sun as it began to disappear behind the distant hills in a final burst of orange and I returned to my rythym, strong and steady.

Cows glanced up from the adjacent fields to see me run by, expressionless and unimpressed, they returned to their grazing and I turned the corner to start the climb to my turnaround point. The road climbs steeply before giving way to a farm track and I am pushing hard now, legs are starting to hurt and my breathing is getting faster but it feels good; no, it feels great! I push on, harder still as I see the small cairn on top of the hill getting closer. The sun is now just a faint red glow behind my left shoulder but there is still enough light in the sky to make out the path and I bound over the small puddles left by the previous days rain as climb higher and higher before finally arriving at the cairn.

I stand there breathing hard, sweat pouring down my face and look around me to take in the view before darkness fully takes hold. Ben Lomond in the distance one way and the lights of Glasgow the other. Finally, as the sound of my breathes subsides, I am left with complete stillness, there is not a sound to be heard and the breeze that had chilled me when I set off is now completely gone.

I am conscious however of the fading light so I turn and set off back down the path I have just come up. My pace getting faster and faster as gravity takes hold and I am just barely able to make out my footing in the darkness. Onto the road now and throwing caution to the wind I speed up faster still, my legs shuddering with each footfall and my arms flailing like a windmill as I eventually reach the level once more and return to my rythym.

I decide to stay on the road all the way back as darkness has now descended and the woodland path is not a sensible option. The road rollercoasters up and down and I push on hard, totally absorbed now in the act of running. The darkness having robbed me of my sight, I am totally tuned in to what I am doing. Legs are hurting but going strong, breathing is fast but clear, arms pumping as I climb and relaxing as I descend and my mind in its own place, at peace yet completely absorbed.

As I approach the top of my road, the streetlights break my focus and I ease back and jog the last few yards back to my front door. 11 miles done and I am elated, tired and completely stress free.

That's why I run!

RAW

See me eh? two posts within a week.

Saturday saw me at the start line for the 41 mile River Ayr Way (RAW) Challenge. Feeling particularly unprepared, I decided to set off at a nice steady 9min mile pace and see how long I could keep it going for. I had set myself a 7hrs 30min target which seemed reasonable if not too challenging.
The first few miles went by ok and I was running comfortably right on pace. This was my first time on the route and I was pleasantly surprised by how scenic it was. It starts with a lot of open farmland and rough grazing and then as it gets closer in towards the coast, there is a lot of natural woodland and some beautiful trails along the rivers edge.
I kept a nice even pace and despite one minor naivigation hic-cup I was feeling pretty happy about how things were going. In a bid to try and stave off my dreaded cramp problems, I had decided to drink an isotonic fluid rather than water and so I topped up with my individual sachets of High 5 at various stages along the way. I am please to say that I didn't experience any cramp whatsoever - so a bit of a result there!
I went through the marathon in 4hrs 15mins and although going ok I was starting to feel the effects of my lack of training miles. Still, I seemed to be picking off other runners now and again so I was still feeling remarkably upbeat.
By about 31 miles, I started to struggle and over the next mile or so my pace dropped and was interspersed with the occassional walk. I managed to adopt a nice little routine of running 200 steps and then walking 100 and so on. I kept a close eye on my Garmin and just focussed on ticking off the next mile, then the next one and then the next one. This worked really well and my overall pace settled out at about 10:30 and gradually he miles ticked by until I found myself on the long road section by Auchencruive.
By now I knew I was going to make it and so ditched the number counting and pressed on as best I could. I managed to pass another couple of runners in the lat mile or so and crossed the line in 7hrs 11mins.
Overall I was pretty pleased with my performance, not exactly a contender but I think I finished about 35th out of around 80 starters so I'm happy with that.
This was also the last race in the SUMS (Scottish Ultra Marathon Series) and with me now having 4 races completed my name appears in 37th place overall and 10th Male Vet.

So what next? I'm going to ease back a bit over the next few weeks and enjoy some nice easy running. I've got the Saab Salomon Turbo X run in Mugdock Park in a couple of weeks which is a bit of a novelty event run through mud, rivers, steep hils and trails and although 10 miles it is more about the enjoyment rather than a time.

October sees the entries for next years WHW Race opening but my main focus on next year will be on the UTMB. I am hoping to get a ballot place in the January draw so in anticipation, I need to start getting some time in the hills!

Where the hell have you been!

I have not disappeared off the face of the planet - I am alive and well and active, I just don't seem to have had time to put much of my life down on "paper" as it were.

Anyway, this is just a brief note by way of a catch up but I promise to be slightly more proactive in the blogging stakes.

Much has happened since the WHW Race in June. Still on a high, I had two fabulous weeks in France, resting, drinking large amounts of wine and I even managed 3 runs. A week after I got back I was on the starting line for the Clydestride and finished in just over 7 hours but was once again plagued with cramp from about 30 miles onwards. Not sure what I'm doing wrong here as I was eating "S" Caps like sweeties but they didn't seem tobe making a difference.

Bit of a rest through August having had to pull out of the Speyside Way due to other commitments but then completed my 21st running of the Glasgow Half Marathon in a time of 1hr 34mins. I has set off on a sub 1hr 30min pace but after about 3 miles I realised it wasn't going to happen to eased off and came in 3 mins slower than last year. I'm sure I've got a sub 1:30 half in me if only I got round to training for one!

My planned 4th run at the Longmynd Hike was scuppered due to an over subscribed entry and the usual woeful race admin not sending me the email alert to let me know entries were open. As a last minute decision, I have therefore decided to run the River Ayr Way Race (RAW) tomorrow which will give me 4 counting events for the SUMS (Scottish Ultra Marathon Series). I feel particularly undertrained for 41 miles but I plan to set off really gently and plod round in somewhere near 7hours 30mins.

That's you pretty much up to date. It feels good to be back in blog land so watch this space!

WHW Race Report

So there I was, lined up on the start line outside Milngavie Train Station for the 3rd year in a row, ready to start the journey to Fort William, 95 miles away in what I hoped would be less than a day. After a short briefing and a speech by Adrian Stott, the horn sounded and we were off into the dark of Mugdock Park.

My preparation had been about the same as previous years with me just coming under 1,000 miles for the year to date and managing my last long run 3 weeks before the race. The main difference this year was that I had managed to stay injury free so far and, other than the remains of a lingering cold, I was feeling pretty good.

The first few miles ticked away easily under remarkably light skies for 2:00am in the morning and I got to Drymen in just over 2hours exactly as planned. I met Eve and Cameron who would be my back up until Rowardennan and after a quick rice pudding and some words of encouragement I was off heading towards Conic Hill.

By now; 3:00am; it was light enough to turn my head torch off and I chatted away to some other runners as we headed through the forrest and caught our first sight of Conic Hill silhoueted against the skyline. I took it nice and steady up and over and got to Balmaha feeling good although the thighs felt the effects of the 20 miles covered so far. Another quick pit stop and I was away.

I have always hated this section to Rowardenan. I don't know why because it is stunning running alongside the loch as the sun comes up and there water is as smooth as glass. There is a lot of climbing on this section which surprises a lot of people and so my plan today was to take my time, just think about the 10 feet in front of me and try to find a rythym that I could keep up. It seemed to work as I came into Rowardennan fairly unscathed and met Eve and Cameron for the last time. Well, I should say I met Eve as Cameron was fast asleep in the car and it seemed unfair to wake him. They were going to go home after this, hand over to my second team and then, after a couple of hours rest come up and see me into Bridge of Orchy before going on up to Fort William for the finish.

The midges chased me out of Rowardennan and I started the long drag up the hill by the lochside trying to walk hard on the climbs and run everything else. In contrast to the previous section, I really like the stretch coming into Inversnaid and I was enjoying myself on the twists and turns along the water's edge and before long I arrived at the hotel and picked up my drop bag. It's always difficult trying to decide what to put in a drop bag as you tend to be making them up 24 hours before you need them and you need to anticipate what you'll want to eat and drink. As it turned out, my fruit bowl and mars bar was a winning choice and I devoured the lot, thanked the check point marshalls and set off.

By now the sun was up and we could see the hills across the loch being bathed in sunshine. I could tell it was going to be warm but for the moment, I remained in the cool shade of the trees and I skipped along over the roots and rocks that form this stretch up to Bein Glas Farm. This is the stretch that I had been hit with cramp during the Highland Fling and so I was very wary and nervous that the same thing would happen again. As it turned out, I didn't experience any cramp all day!

I arrived at Bein Glas on schedule but now starting to tire and met my 2nd support crew of Alistair, Donald, David and Pete (2 brothers, father and father-in-law). I asked for my hat, sun cream and a lucozade alert - none of which they had. It must be said, that they weren't on my list for that pit stop but I'm allowed to change my mind! After a quick dash back to the car, Donald arrived with the request and suitably attired, I set off once more.

It was now starting to get warm and I could feel the affects of the 40 miles covered so far and plodded along the route to Derrydaroch struggling to keep some pace going on anything but the longer descents. After climbing up the other side of the main road onto the "coo poo" path I managed to rally a bit and trotted through the gate and into the forrest above Crianlarich. The field was well spread out by this time and only occassionally did I get sight of other runners in front and I was playing yo-yo with a couple of guys as we went over the roller coaster of the hills through the forrest.

I came out onto the main road and managed to trot into Auchtertyre feeling OK. After being weighed (2kg down) I met my crew and tried to find something to eat. It is usually at this point that my stomach objects to anything going in and I really couldn't face eating anything. In the end I opted for a pork pie!

The next stretch to Tyndrum is only three miles but over that stretch I felt as though someone had pulled a plug and all my energy just drained out. I went from feeling fairly positive going into Auchtertyre to complete and utter exhaustion and depression by the time I got to Tyndrum. I sat down outside Brodies Store and for the first time that day, felt that maybe I couldn't actually do this. If I closed my eyes I would have been asleep instantly and I felt I didn't have the strength to stand-up let alone run. My team rallied round and we decided that I needed to try and eat something so after a few minutes I got up and accompanied by a marmalade roll, headed slowly up the hill out of Tyndrum. Over the next few minutes I slowly munched my way through this roll and plodded, head bowed, along the path. It is only through experience of running ultras that you get to know what your body can do and that if you have a bad spell, the best thing to do is to just keep moving forward and you'll come out of it. Sure enough, by the time I went under the railway line 2 miles along the path, I was feeling so much better and actually managed to run the whole section from there into Bridge of Orchy. I passed a few others along here including one chap who was running the whole way with his dog!

I finally arrved at Bridge of Orchy and, much to the surprise of my support crew, I was smiling! Eve and Cameron had arrived 5 minutes earlier so it was great to see them as well and I took a seat and topped up my supplies. The plan from here was that I would run over the hill to Victoria Bridge and Alistair would join me for the run across Rannoch Moor, however, after checking with the Marshalls, we were told that as I was still within 4 hours of the leaders I wouldn't be allowed a support runner until the White Corries. I was OK with this but I was more disappointed for Alistair who had been looking forward to his first chance to get out onto the route that day.

Up and over the hill out of Bridge of Orchy and after a quick hello the my crew at Victoria Bridge I set off across Rannoch Moor. My feet were starting to hurt by now as the route was so dry the paths were rock hard and my trail shoes were struggling to absorb the continued pounding and rocky nature of the trail. I plodded across the Moor constantly searching out the smoother side of the path and trying to keep sipping water from my camelback. The sun was high in the sky and the strong wind had been a constant companion now for the last few hours. It was helping to keep me cool but had the effect of speeding up the dehydration process many time over. Despite wearing sunglasses, it aslo seemed to be trying to dry out my contact lenses and the vision in my right eye was anything but 20:20.
I climbed out of the far end of the Moor and found Donald had run up from the checkpoint to meet me and run the last mile or so down the hill. My feet struggled to find a comfortable spot and each footfall was met with a wince as the previous 70 miles were now taking their toll.
I collapsed into the chair at the White Corries and forced down some soup and half an energy bar. As I sat there I spotted John Kynaston and Andy Cole heading out, both looking strong and steady. Alistair had decided to run the next section to the bottom of the Devils Staircase with me and so we set off slowly down the steep hill towards the Kinsghouse Hotel before the frustrating up and down path that seems to serve no other purpose than to add to my mounting woes. Running when I could and walking hard we reached Altnafeidh and Donald took over to accompany me up and over the Devils Staircase. Progress was slow but steady and after only two brief stops we finally reached to the top with stunning views in every direction. Despite the struggle up the hill, I would rather have gone back down and done it again than head off on the never ending descent into Kinlochleven. Resigned to my fate, we set off and I decided to try breaking into a run to see how my legs felt. They felt OK! This was a surprise, so we kept running and remarkably I seemed able to keep a steady pace going the whole way down to the fire road. As soon as we reached this road, we stepped it up and kept a good pace going all the way down into Kinlochleven, completing one of my strongest stages so far. Quite where it came from I don't know but it seemed to disappear just as quickly as soon as we reached the checkpoint and once again, I collapsed into the waiting chair, exhausted.
I was weighed again here and found that I had dropped 5kg; one more than I was allowed but after a quick "re-weigh" it seemed that we had misread the scales and I had actually only dropped 4kg! - It seemed I was allowed to carry on.
Alistair and I set off on the next stage and we plodded our way up the climb out of Kinlochleven and up onto the Larig Mhor. We were passed by three of four other people on the climb who all seemed to have far more in their legs than me. Reaching the top, the wind had now died down and the sun was staring to set, I was still able to marvel at the views all around. This stretch has been one of my least favourites in the past because you are able to see the trail winding away in the distance for what looks like forever and the conditions under foot are probably the worst on the whole WHW. The path is covered in fist sized rocks that shift and roll under each footstep. Bad enough on fresh legs and walking boots but a nightmare on trashed legs, blistered feet and trainers.
The one upside of this however is that you can start to sense that you are close to the finish - just 13 miles to go and it's all over and there is the faintest of magnetic pulls forcing you forward towards Fort William. It was a case of head down and crack on and we managed to run every downhill and several of the flat sections all the way into Lundavra. The path along here is surrounded on both sides with large rocks that are covered in black and white moss and lichen. The fading light, my lack of sleep and exhaustion and my dried out contact lenses meant that everyone of these rocks took on a new persona. I saw countless sheep (there were none) a white landrover (there wasn't one), a team of dwarf american footballers (now it was getting weird!) and countless faces. I decided to keep these images to myself to avoid worrying Alistair but it certainly kept up the interest as the stage went on.
We had planned a quick stop at Lundavra but by now I had realised that if we pushed on hard, we had a chance of getting in under my pb of 23hrs:30mins so we stopped long enough for Donald to join us and then it was off on the last stage.
As we reached the forrest we decided to put on the head torches and as in previous years, Donald led off, I was behind him and Alistair brought up the rear. We pushed on as hard as we dared through the darkness with me stumbling over rocks and roots as my legs struggled to co-ordinate with the terrain. Eventually we emerged from the forrest and onto the fire road for the final 2 or 3 miles in to the finish. The time was still possible but it was going to be tight so gingerly, I tried out a run once more and to my surprise found a new level of energy. The pace remained solid all the way down the road and we passed Andy Cole about a mile before Braveheart Carpark going steady and on course for his first sub 24 hours.
I kept looking at my watch and each time I increased the pace. This was crazy; I had just run 93 miles, an hour or so earlier I could barely walk and yet here we were stomping along at an ever increasing pace and feeling strong and totally focussed.
Braveheart carpark arrived and as we ran through the rest of my crew were waiting to see us. Cameron was going to join us for the run in and I shouted at him that he better be feeling fast because we were shifting!
Onto the road and the pace picked up again, a quick glance at the watch told me we had about 7 minutes to spare and I looked ahead desparate to see the 30mph sign that marks your arrival into the town. Finally it came into view and I kicked for home. Cameron had dropped off by now and I was flying flat out towards the Leisure Centre, with one eye on my watch. I passed three other runners as I sprinted into the carpark and shouted an apology at them as I sped past before bursting through the doors in a time of 23hours 25 mins!
It was a fantastic moment and I was elated and exhausted in equal measures. I shook Donald and Alistairs hand to thank them for their efforts which seemed like a wholly inadequate gesture but was as much as I could manage.
The prize giving the next day was excellent and gave an opportunity to catch up with other runners and for each one to receive their goblet in front of their peers. The new race committee have done a fantastic job in keeping the race going and maintaining the WHW Family feel - so well done to them all.
As before, my support crews were fantastic and so thanks to Eve, Cameron, Pete, David, Donald & Alistair - keep your diaries clear for next June!

WHW Race 2010

(Coming into Bridge of Orchy - 60 miles: picture by Davy Hall)

A brief post to say that I finished the Race in 23hours 25mins - 5 mins inside my PB.

I realised coming into Lundavra with 7 miles to go that it was going to be close and so we pushed on hard through the forrest finishing with a mad 6 minute mile pace charge along the road out of Braveheart carpark.

Thanks to all my support crew and especially Alistair and Donald for pushing me on over the last few stages.

A stunning day with breathtaking views from start to finish - never have I seen Scotland looking better.

Full report to follow

It's The Final, "sniff" Countdown!

I've got a cold - normally that's no big deal. Take some lemsip and just ride it out; it'll be gone in a few days. The trouble is that in 3 days time, I'm running a 95 mile ultra marathon through some of Scotlands finest but toughest scenery!

It's not a big cold, just a runny nose and a bit of sore throat but not the kind of pre-race build up I was hoping for. The plan was to run an easy 5 miles or so tonight to keep the legs ticking over and to gather my thoughts for the big day but I think it best if I stay indoors and keep popping the Echinachia (?)

I ran a strong race in the Milngavie & Bearsden 10k at the weekend finishing in 42mins 45secs; 10 seconds faster than last year and good enough for 10th place and now am trying to rest the legs and get my head ready for this weekend.

I try to avoid too many detailed race plans as I tend to find that, on the day, I race as I feel irrespective of what I've written down, but there is a need to have some form of strategy and plan so; in no particular order, here are my intentions:

• I'd like to get inside 23 hours - last year I ran 23:30 and 24:45 the year before so I know sub 23 is in me. It would be nice to finish on the same day I started.
• My pace chart shows me setting off slower than last year until about Auchtertyre when I start to overtake my timings. I need to average 14.5min/mile overall to hit sub 23.
• I need to try and avoid the cramp that has plagued me in the last two Highland Fling races (but not in the WHW?) so regular "s" caps, soup and some ready salted crisps on stand-by. The forecast looks like its could be hot so plenty of water as well.
• I want my suppport runners to push me on a bit harder in the later stages (Donald, Alistair - are you reading this?). Particularly along the larig mhor and down into Frt William.
• If I can take 1 minute off each pit stop, I'll gain an extra 10 mins without any running!
• Patience - this is very important as it's going to be a long day. I know there will be times when I get downhearted but I also know that these moments pass and I just need to keep presssing on.
• Enjoy it!
• Stay positive as this helps to keep the mind and body going.
• Don't stop - sometimes easier said than done but the bottom line for this race is to keeping moving forward, keep putting one foot in front of the other and no matter what else happens, I will finish!

So there we go, the final run in to my 3rd WHW Race and I'm still nervous, exited and worried but I can't wait to get back out there again and put my body and mind on the line and, with the help of my fantastic support crew, experience another amazing journey to Fort William.

Pass the Lemsip..............

70 Wild Miles 'n stuff

It's been a while since I put pen to paper (so to speak) so I thought I'd provide a quick update of what's been going on.

A few weeks ago, myself and a couple of pals spent a very pleasant few days biking in the Vercors in south east France courtesy of the extremely laid back Phil Smith at Gastrobiking

http://www.gastrobiking.com/

The idea is to climb a few cols have some cake, descend a few cols, have some more cake and ride back to base before having yet more cake - oh, and a few glasses of wine. If you fancy some fantastic riding over some of the "Tour" routes in glorious weather, Phil is your man.

Back home and into some serious training to get ready for the WHW race, I managed some good runs and did my final long session a week ago from Tyndrum to the White Corries and back. 36 miles, under 11 min mile pace and feeling good at the end.

Last weekend saw me and two pals team up once more for 70 Wild Miles. A team triathlon event organised by Click Sargent based in and around Glen Coe. The event consist of a 43 mile bike ride from the White Corries to Taynuilt. This is followed by a 10 mile Kayak up Loch Etive and then a 12 mile run up Glen Etive. Not surprisingly, I did the run section and our team came 2nd overall in the team event - a fanatstic result. Personally I ran OK but struggled in the heat and didn't feel quite as strong as I would have hoped but still managed to record the 5th fastest run of the day!

Me approaching the finish

Graeme "TM" Busby (Kayak), Me, Peter "Boris" Gorrie (Bike)

Not bad for a bunch of old guys in their 40's!

So the focus is now very much on the WHW Race which is now less than 2 weeks away. The training is done and all I can do now is to try and rest up and get my head togther for what will be a very long day. As always, the plan is just to finish but I do have a schedule for a sub-23 hour which it would be great to get near. More on my pre-race thoughts on a later post.

I have one more race before the WHW Race which is this weekends local 10k. Part of the Bearsden and Milngavie Highland Games. I have run this the last few years and it is hilly wee course that catches a lot of people out. I always get to the start line saying that I'll take it easy with the following weekends race in mind but as soon as the gun goes off, the red mist descends and I charge off at a ridiculous speed which sees me gasping and panting after two miles. Still - it's all good training.

So that brings you up to date - a bit of a brief summary really but duty calls and there is business to be done. I'll post next week prior to my main event of the year.

If you want to get a head................

Get a hat!

Ultra running trend setter Andy Cole has taken sartorial elegance to a new level by sporting a very fetching flat cap during his outings into the wilds of the British countryside. Andy claims it has numerous benefits including thermal, waterproof and UV protection qualities as well as being rather dashing!

This got me thinking as to what other types of headwear may be suitable for my own race calendar this year. There is clearly a desire to gain some technical advantage by the correct selection of headwear but perhaps we should go further and try and celebrate and embrace the cultural associations that go along with the relevant race.

Here are some suggestions:

The Mighty Deerstalker - bit of an obvious one here and, considering the type of race, of no practical use other than allowing you to blend in with the other 999 people wearing the same thing.

The Highland Fling - This race presents a number of options, some of which are perhaps more obvious than others. The race is understandably proud of it's Scottish roots and and prides itself on its informal approach so I would suggest the following:

Note the extended peak and rear neck protection to prevent excessive exposure to the frequently experienced suuny conditions on this race.

The red "bobble" providing easy identification for waiting support crews and the added ability to blend in seamlessly with the groups of young chaps enjoying the outdoor camping life at Salloch Bay.

West Highland Way Race - a surprising selection for this race but one which I think you will agree is perfect for any prevailing weather conditions that you may experience:

The wide brim provides excellent protection from rain, hail, sleet, snow and sun - all of which can be experienced within the duration of the race. Perhaps, it's biggest benefit however; and I'm quite pleased with this; is midge protection! Anyone who has experienced the joy of passing through Balmaha or Rowardennan in the wee small hours of mid-summer morning will appreciate the benefit that this form of fashion accessory will provide

Clydestride - this is a new race that follows the clyde walkway from Partick in the west end of Glasgow to New Lanark. The race presents some notable cultural challenges and the ability to blend in with ones environment should be considered a high priority when passing through the East End of Glasgow. I think I have come up with the ideal solution however that provides both practical and cultural solutions:

It is imperative however that when sporting this particular fashion accessory you ensure that your camelback is refilled with the appropriate isotonic replacement drink of choice. I understand that Achilles Heel and Run-4-it are able to order in the requisite quantites of Buckfast.

Finally, some local jargon may assist your passage through this tricky race route with phrases such as:

"How you, ya fanny, geez a sook o yer ginger!" or "I can see yer baws in they shorts!"

Speyside Way Race - this is my first venture onto this race and one I am very much looking forward to. The choice of hat is a tricky one but given the nature of the location I would sugest the following as an ideal choice:

There is ample space to attach your flies as one of the principal rules of this race is that you must catch your own food en-route. The welcome waters of the river spey will give ample opportunity to ensure a plentiful supply of salmon although the accompanying Ghillie may be deemed to be illegal support on this particular event.

So there you have it - your perfect hat choice for this seasons races. Whilst I cannot hope to follow in the fashionable steps of Andy Cole, I hope I have gone some way towards helping my fellow runners in this difficult process.

On a final note, should your budget not stretch to race-specific head gear and you are looking for one hat that can cover every eventuality, I can do no better than suggest this:

I know - there's no need to thank me.

Montane Highland Fling

Saturday saw me running my third consecutive Highland Fling and my fastest yet (by a whole 6 minutes!)

I set off in the second wave consisting of all the male vets. The older vets and ladies had set off an hour earlier and the young guys were to set off an hour after me. I had no real race plan other than the loose targets in my previous post, but as I headed out of Milngavie and through the woods I felt comfortable and was looking forward to the day ahead.

My early pace was a bit quicker than planned and I reached Drymen in just under two hours. I ran straight through and as I joined the forest drive at the top of the path I was joined ny Ian Rae and Keith Hughes. We chatted away with some good banter all the way up conic hill at a pace that was a bit quicker than I had planned but the company was good and the running felt fine.

Keith picked up his drop bag at Balmaha and kept walking whereas I stopped to eat and had a quick chat with Ian Beattie. I thought that would be the last I saw of Keith but we kept crossing each other all the way to Beinglas.

I always hate the section from Balmaha to Rowardennan and I was determined this year to try and get there feeling ok. I kept the head down and plodded on and about 2 miles before I got there I was passed by the eventual race leader who had started an hour after me! Rowardennan arrived and whilst I wasn't feeling great I was OK and after a quick refuel I was on my way again.

I quite enjoy the lochside section and despite the growing fatigue, I kept a steady pace and arrived at Inversnaid tired but pleased to be 33 miles in with 20 to go.

I suffered my first batch of cramp as I stepped over the rocks and roots of the next section and cried out in pain as a knot the size of a golf ball formed in my right hamstring. I managed to stretch it out and I was able to get going again but I was concerned that this was the start of a repeat of last year. I had been taking "s" caps regularly so far but the clear skies and warm sun meant I had been sweating hard and clearly hadn't been replacing enough salt.

The cramp seemed to stay away however and I plodded on towards Beinglas where I would meet up with Pete (my father-in-law) and my two boys. This gives me a huge mental boost and allowed me to swap my long sleeved Helly Hansen top for a short sleeved one. I left Beinglas feeling ok but very wary about the constant flickering of my hamstrings, calfs and quads all of which threatened to go into a cramping spasm any moment.

13 miles to go now so I knew I was going to make it. I had been on my 11 hour schedule up till now but I knew from past experience that this next section is where the wheels can come off - and they did. The threatened cramps now started to appear and I had to adopt a curious straight legged shuffle to avoid too many bouts. I had been running with a guy called Liam since Beinglas and we had chatted away quite happily. As I started to slow up Liam pulled away and I thought he had gone for good but as I turned a corner I saw him lying on the grass by the side of the track trying to stretch out a cramping muscle. I clearly wasn't the only one suffering today!

Up and over the roller coaster hills above Crianlarich and I'm telling myself that I'm almost home - "just a 10k to go - come on Graeme!" I push on, running when I can, walking when I can't and have a brief strong spell coming out of the woods and into Auchtertyre. I meet my support crew briefly and then decide to push on and give it all I've got to the finish in Tyndrum.

I emerge out of the woods into Tyndrum and can see the finish arch ahead. As I pass the piper 100 yards from the finish, I have to stop again to stretch out my cramping muscles but then finish with a smile in 11 hours 16 mins in 113th place (out of about 350)

As I sup my cold bottle of Coors and chat to many familiar faces waiting at the finish, the memories of the pain and suffering are already starting to fade but then I look across the road to the West Highland Way path as it heads up the valley towards Bridge of Orchy and think to myself "only another 42 miles to go!"

Pre-Fling Thoughts

Saturday sees me taking part in my first Ultra of the season with the Montane Highland Fling. A 53 mile trail race following the West Highland Way from Milngavie to Tyndrum. I'm starting to get that wonderful pre-race feeling of exitement, fear and anticipation as the day gets closer.
I don't have a particularly detailed race plan but given that this is my 3rd running of the event I have had a chance to consider some problems that have dogged me in the past and hopefully, I will avoid on the day. So, in no particular order, here are some thoughts, targets etc.

• Start off slow
• Take "s" caps every hour to prevent a repeat of last years cramp
• Drink a little and often
• Eat a little and often
• Get to Rowardennan feeling good (never managed this so far!)
• If I have to walk; walk fast!
• My main goal is just to finish, but I would like to get close to 11 hours and so my splits would work out roughly: Drymen 2hrs, Balmaha 3hrs 15 mins, Rowardennan 5hrs, Inversnaid 6hrs 40mins, Beinglas 8hrs 25mins, Auchtertyre 10hrs 25mins, Tyndrum 11hrs.
• Enjoy the event

That's kind of it really. I don't want to overanalyse every aspect of the race as I'd rather just set off and deal with how I feel on the day. There has been a lot of talk on various blogs about different pace strategies with scatter graphs, percentages, in depth analysis and comments. I'm sure this is all very important and interesting if you're up there contesting the podium positions but for all the rest of us it all seems a bit anal and unnecessary. Just get your gear on and go and run and don't forget to smile occassionally, it definately helps.

So for everyone else who is running on Saturday - the best of luck and don't eat all the stovies at the finish before I get there. If you're not running - get your gutties on and get out there, you've got just over 12 months to be ready!