DEBS ON RUNNING

Shake a leg

2012-01-31T22:59:00.000Z

Hello! I know, it's been a while. January was such a quick month, although it was like the perfect race - started slow and rusty (with a dismal performance in a short road race) and finished on a high, with some confidence-boosting sessions and long runs.

I was full of great intentions about posting my vague plans for 2012, but really even I don't know. All I know so far, is that I'm going to do the Glasgow to Edinburgh Ultra on March 31 (57 miles on the canal) and the Grand Union Canal Race on June 2 (145 miles on canal). Then it's a bit up in the air thereafter. To be honest, if I don't throw myself in a canal it will be miracle.

I'm going to focus on the two races and fore go the temptation to complete the required four races in the Scottish Ultra Marathon Series...for now! I toyed with the idea of doing the Highland Fling. Actually, I'm still toying, but there's been chat about an organised training run to cover the last 70 miles of the GUCR at the end of April, which will be more beneficial.

I'll have to admit, I'm genuinely worried about my lack of navigational skills. I've ordered the maps, but really, I'd rather not have to faff with them on race day. Especially in the dark when I'm 100 miles down. Refer to previous statement about throwing myself in the canal.

So, this year there will be more focus and more time recovering from races and training for the next. Not just race, recover, repeat a la 2011.

Which brings me nicely on to my next random purchase (Well, it was a gift from Santa): A vibration plate. Firstly, lets ignore the sh*te about it burning calories and melting away fat. Personally, I don't buy it. And regular readers of the blog will know I'm a little bit gullible when it comes to the latest fad and gadgets. This random purchase is for muscle recovery. After using it for a month, I can safely say I LOVE IT. I've been using it daily and I've had no muscle fatigue or stiffness.

I don't do any of the fancy moves that you're supposed to. I literally just stand on it.. clenching my jaw so my teeth don't rattle. There's no contortion, sweating and panting. Just lots of jiggling. Apparently, these are the benefits of using the vibration plate on a regular basis. I'd take some of them with a pinch of salt.

■Accelerates metabolism thus increasing calorie burn
■Reduces the appearance of cellulite
■Increase muscle strength and flexibility of motion
■Strengthens bones and enhancing your body posture
■Increases blood circulation and cellular oxygenation
■Reduces back pain and overall stiffness of the body
■Reduces production of the hormone Cortisol (the stress hormone)
■Stimulates lymphatic drainage, detoxing the entire body
■Enhances athletic strength increasing explosive power
■Boosts natural level of human growth hormone (HGH)
■Increases bone mass and density
■Combats osteoporosis
■Enables you to perform multiple exercises using only one machine
■Allows each and every muscle group and body part to be targeted
■Improves core strength and stability
■Accelerates recovery and regeneration from sports injuries

Happy Old Year

2011-12-30T14:59:00.007Z

As I might not get another year like it, I thought I'd best write it all down. And possibly frame it!

Anglo Celtic Plate 100K: I was lucky enough to be selected to run on the Scotland team. I'll never forget my first Scotland vest, and I'll never forget this race. It was probably the hardest race I've ever done, but it was great to try a classic distance and push myself out of my comfort zone. I just missed my sub:9 hour goal, but was happy to finish in 9:03. Maybe that's just the incentive I need to give the distance another bash.

Highland Fling 53 miles: I wasn't holding out much hope for this race, as it was only a matter of weeks after the 100K. Plus, I hadn't really done that much hill and trail training, as I was predominately focusing on road. I was fairly relaxed about the race and went out with the suck-it-and-see attitude. I followed splits (devised by Sonic) that had me running 10 minutes slower in the first section than the previous year. It started rusty, came together in middle and fell apart at the end. I was delighted to finish second female in 9.39. As the event doubled as the UK Ultra trail championship, I also went home with that silver medal. And the bronze team medal. One event, four medals and a new PB. Not bad for a day's work. Sonic is now my official split co-ordinator :-)

West Highland Way Race: This was my key race for the year and I was ecstatic to achieve my dream sub:20 hour goal. 19:39 to be exact. I finished third female and 13th overall. After three WHW races, I vowed not to sign up for next year's. Not because I didn't enjoy it, because I did. OK, maybe enjoy isn't the right word, but you get the gist. I just want to try something new. I'll always be happy with my time, but I know I'll go back and try it again some day.

Clyde Stride 40: Probably not my wisest move just four weeks after the WHW, but I signed up with a view to completing four of the races in the Scottish Ultra Marathon Series (SUMS). It was a bit up and down. Some parts I felt great and in others I was burst. All in all a good race and I finished second behind Lucy Colquhoun in 5:56. My main goal was sub:6 so no grumbles from me.
T

Devil o' the Highlands (43 miles): This was my first ultra back in 2007, so it's always been quite special. Although, to be honest, this year I was only in it for the SUMS point. As it turned out, it was by far my best race of the year. You know when people talk about how some races just "click" or "come together on the day"? Well, this one did. I finished second behind Lucy (who incidentally smashed the course record by over an hour!) in 6:56. Again, my ultimate goal was sub:7.

SUMS award: Guess what? I finished second behind Lucy :-) Julie once hit the nail on the head when she said "if she wasn't so nice, you'd hate her". Wise Julie also said, "finishing second to Lucy is a win", so I'll take it.

Commonwealth Mountain and Ultra Running Championships: I guess you'll know I ran on the Scotland team at the 24 hour race, because I haven't shut up about it. I finished 4th female. 1st for Scotland (overall). Broke the Scottish 200k record and was part of the team that took bronze. It was worth the destruction.

Sponsorship: After the Highland Fling I was contacted by Montane, as they wanted to give me some shiny new gear as a way of saying congratulations for being 2nd in their sponsored race. Result! Then a few months later they asked me to come on board as their first ultra-running female sponsored athlete.

Garscube Harriers' Meritorious Award: I won the award a few years ago and I was honoured enough to receive it again. As far as I can see by the listing on the trophy, I'm the only member to have won the award twice.

International Association of Ultra Runners Athlete of the Year nomination: It's a pretty safe bet that the uber-awesome Miss Hawker will walk away with this one, but I'm still in shock about making the shortlist.

Marcothon: Well tomorrow's the last day. And there will be nearly 1000 nutters (including those who haven't fessed up to bowing out) celebrating their last run. It will be a fabulous end to an amazing year. Although I have to do a 5k first. Yikes.

Happy New Year everyone.

The final countdown

2011-12-22T14:39:00.005Z

The end of the Marcothon is nigh. I can't believe we're on day 22 already. Apart from a couple of hangover torture miles, there's been a limited amount of whining from me. Well, in my humble opinion. In fact, compared to last year, it's been relatively easy. Even the hurricane didn't faze me. I did, however, consider dusting off the treadmill in the garage, but thought it would be less painful to take my chances with the Bawbag. The police car that tailed me for about a mile of said run was probably a sign that I should have got the duster out. Or the flattened coke can that flew at me like a frisbee. Thankfully my ninja-like skills saved me from death by coke can decapitation.

After the hurricane, we had ice. Then a big dump of snow, which eventually turned to ice. Last weekend brought glorious winter sunshine and now we have rain. I'm pretty sure we could change the Marcothon to some kind of multi-activity event or a Decathlon.

The photo was taken on Sunday down Ayrshire way on my last run with the GM for 2011. It was a glorious day, so crisp and clear. Very icy though, so the kahtoolas came in really handy. Tomorrow, I drop the GM off at the airport so she can fly to sunny climates for a romantic festive holiday in South Africa. Jealous much? She's so psyched, she could probably fly there herself.

The support on Facebook continues to be overwhelming. People who have signed away 31 consecutive days and run the risk of falling out with their spouses/partners/families on Christmas day and they probably don't know where the event name came from. Incidentally it's an abbreviation of Martin-Consani:-) Obviously I'm joking, but it's clever, he? ;-) Some folks might even think it's a memorial race!

We've also had another wee bit of publicity. Ruth Walker from the Scotland on Sunday is an enthusiastic recruit. Click on image right.

We had a kind invitation from one of the organisers of the parkrun in Falkirk to attend their 5k on New Year's Eve which went something like... "I know you have probably had many requests for what I am about to ask, but here goes..."... ha ha you wouldn't believe how many requests we've had... That's poetic license by the way, Dave. So we've decided to make this the grand finale and have tried to encourage as many Marcothoners along as possible. Given the logistics, it seems to be the most central. Well, for those living in Scotland.

Hope you all have a fabulous Christmas.

Here's a special sing out from Cairn and Lucy. Yes, there's no end to the talents of the world's bronze medal holder. And when I picked her up en route to the party, she appeared with a homemade Christmas cake too.

IAU Athlete of the Year Nomination

2011-12-07T15:39:00.028Z

The Marcothon is a great thing, but the messages/notifications have clogged up my personal email account. So much so that I missed an email from Nadeem Khan from the International Association of Ultrarunner (IAU) to say I had made the shortlist for Ahtlete of the Year. I didn't even know until Richie text me to mockingly ask for my autograph. I thought it was strange that I hadn't been notified...and trawled through my email to find it was sent last week. Doh!

I'm still getting over the shock, but this year just keeps getting better. See below (or click on this link) for info.

List of Athletes of the Year Nominated for 2011

2011 was an outstanding year for ultrarunning as it was evident from the performances of our athletes. The following athletes have made the nomination list that has been forwarded to the Member Federations and the IAU Executive Council to be voted on. The results will be announced in the third week of January 2012.

They will select their top 3 athletes (male and female) and these top 3 athletes will receive points (5 points for 1st, 3 points for 2nd, 1 point for 3rd) and the overall score for each athlete will be compiled.

Congratulations to all the nominated athletes!

Nadeem Khan
Director of Communications
nadeem.khan@iau-ultramarathon.org

Nominees for Athletes of the Year Award 2011

Men (in alphabetical order):

Eliot Kiplagat Biwott KEN 1st 50km World Trophy Final 2:54:53
Patrick Bringer FRA 3rd Trail World Championships 6:47:50
Giorgio Calcaterra ITA 1st World 100km Championships 6:27:32
Erik Clavery FRA 1st Trail World Championships 6:39:07
Ivan Cudin ITA 1st Spartathlon 2011 22:57:40
Andrew Henshaw USA 3rd World 100km Championships 6:44:35
Kaito Iwayama JPN 3rd World Trophy Final 2:59:12
Kilian Jornet ESP 1st Ultra-Trail du Mont Blanc 20:36 :00
Rainer Wilfried Koch GER 1st Los Angeles to New York 522:55:56
Jason Loutitt CAN 2nd Trail World Championships 6:40:32
Andras Low HUN 25th Ultrabalaton 212km 25:53:05
Ian Sharman GBR1st Rocky Racoon 100 Miles 12:44
Pieter Vermeesch BEL 2nd 50km World Trophy Final 2:57:23
Michael Wardian USA 2nd World 100km Championships 6:42:49

Women (in alphabetical order):

Lindsay Anne Van Aswergen RSA 3rd 100km World Championships 7:42:05
Meghan Arbogast USA 5th 100km World Champs (World’s Age Best) 7:51:10
Marina Bychkova RUS 1st 100km World Champss 7:27:29
Monica Carlin ITA 1st 100km del Passatore 7:45:28
Lucy Colquhoun GBR 3rd Trail World Champss 7:57:20
Angela Gargano ITA 1st 12 Hour Belgrade 96km
Maud Gobert FRA 1st Trail World Champss 7:41:31
Emma Gooderham GBR 1st 50km World Trophy Final 3:17:30
Anna Grundahl SWE 1st 24 Hour Bronholm 221.681km
Susan Harrison GBR 2nd 50km World Trophy Final 3:25:05
Lizzie Hawker GBR World’s Best 24 Hours Outdoors 247.06km
Sumie Inagaki JPN World’s Best 24 Hours Indoors 240.631km
Mami Kudo JPN World’s Best 48 Hours Outdoors 368.687km
Szilvia Lubics HUN 1st Spartathlon 2011 29:07:45
Debbie Martin-Consani GBR 5th 24 Hr Commonwealth Champs 208.057km
Cecilia Mora ITA 2nd Trail World Champss 7:50:02
Kami Semick USA 3rd Comrades Marathon 6:26:25
Joanna Zakrzewski GBR 2nd 100km World Champs 7:41:06 & 3rd 50km World Trophy 3:26:37

Do I feel like a fraud? Hell yeah, have you seen who's on the list? But hey, I'm the happiest little fraud in the world :-) By the way, I was fourth in the Commonwealth Champs (not 5th) but I doubt that would make a difference. I'm off to frame my email... :-)

The four seasons fun run

2011-12-06T08:30:00.002Z

The Gibbering Midget and I decided to get in a long run (35-40 miles) before the winter set in. I'm not sure why, to be honest. Even when we were firming up plans last week, neither of us could think of a logical reason as to why we were doing it, or who's daft idea it was in the first place. Although the smart man's money is on it being mine. I think it stems from last year's month-long ice rink leading to no speed or long runs and then having to crank up the miles from January to run the 100K in March. This year, I'd like to keep ticking over. I'm not even convincing myself here...

Anyway we're not sensible enough to back down, so plans were made. We were to start at mine in Glasgow, head over to Balloch, then on to the West Highland Way to Milngavie and back to the start. A nice 37 miles circuit, with a bit of everything - roads, hills and trail. On paper, perfect. Although it's all runable so it's pretty unrelentless at points.

Of course, it was pitch black when we started at 7am on Saturday morning. We toyed with the idea of taking the canal path to Dumbarton - which would involve headtorches - but I wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea, so we decided to grin and bare the pavement alongside the street-lit dual carriageway of the A82. At least I thought we had made the decision. It later transpires that the GM had two buffs over her ears and had no idea what I was asking her and just nodded in agreement!

The first 10 miles were character building to say the least. It was dark and sub zero with a ice cold wind. And then the sleety rain started. Add in dirty spray from the passing lorries and buses and it was a a brutal experience. My legs were so wet and frozen, they could barely move. It was really just heads down and move forward for about 90 minutes. Thankfully, in our heads, we knew this was always going to be the nastiest part. It's a grim prospect even on the nicest of days.

After huddling in a bus shelter to refuel, we headed over the Balloch horseshoe to Croftamie. In true Scottish weather style, the sun came out revealing breathtaking views over to the snow-capped Ben Lomond. And then, of course, the grey clouds appeared and it p*ssed of rain again.

When we hit the West Highland Way, I was starting to wilt. I can't quite put my finger on it as to how I felt. It wasn't fatigue, fuelling issues or muscle pain, I just felt flat. I've felt the same for a few weeks. Just flat.

Wading through ankle deep ice cold water for a few miles didn't really help either. It was completely flooded around Beech Trees. And there was no point pussyfooting around the edges, as wet feet were inevitable. For fellow WHW runers who haven't been on the Way for a while - like me! - then there's been some resurfacing around the bottom of Dumgoyach. That's the nasty muddy bit between Carbeth and Beech Trees. And there a new lane which bypasses the farm. The WHW is turning into a cycle path and I'm not sure I like it. The mental gates were bad enough. Anyway, I bet Rosie Bell wishes this was done last year, as she wouldn't have lost her kneecap during the Fling. Still officially the worst running injury/accident I've ever seen.

After the magical powers of a Red Bull shot at Carbeth Huts, I started to perk up for the last four miles on trail. Believe it or not, we were actually blinded by the sun heading through Mugdock Park.

Then we stopped at Milngavie for some Coke before heading on the five miles home. We were still in really good spirits and just as things were looking up for the final stint, the hailstones started. Remember how I said the route had a bit of everything...? Road, trail, hills, wind, rain, sleet, hail, floods, sunshine and rainbows.

My Sunday run for the Marcothon was rusty to say the least. I managed a spaced-out 3.5 miles and that's only because I misjudge the distance of the route. Now that we have the snow and ice here, I'm glad I got that long run in after all.

Congratulations to everyone who got a place in the West Highland Way Race. I feel a bit like Cinderella not going to the ball, but I'm really looking forward to trying something new. Plus, even if I never did it again, I'll always be pleased with my time from this year. I'll be there for the race though - Sonic's on back-up payback time!

Poll for Marcothon Tshirt

2011-12-02T10:30:00.001Z

The lovely Lee Maclean is trying to organise dri fit Tshirts for participants - who will, of course, be finishers. Could you please let me know of this is something that you would like to purchase. Vote on poll below please.

Poxy plans and the Marcothon

2011-11-29T08:22:00.008Z

One sure way of getting out of a 10K race, is your Son breaking out with chicken pox. I was supposed to be in Bournemouth over the weekend, visiting Brother Sonic and the gorgeous Gillian. And, of course, running the Boscombe 10K. Unfortunately the nursery called on Thursday morning to say Cairn had spots that were spreading like wildfire. He was sent packing along with two of his chums.

Last year we applied for the same race, but then the flights became crazy expensive, so we decided to bank the trip and do the 10K in East Kilbride on the same day. That was to be the first day of the terrible winter weather, so that idea was canned.

Next year I'm not making any plans for the last weekend in November. It's doomed.

All was not lost though, as I finally got stuck into that house spring clean that I've been talking about since, erm, spring. Anything to stop me overdosing on the Disney Channel. And my Mum took wee poxy for a few hours on Sunday morning, so I could run with the GM. Call it respite. For him.

Given the weather forecast, I thought we'd need full waterproofs and bricks in our shoes, but we were pleasantly surprised. Don't get me wrong, it was bloody awful. Just not as bloody awful as we expected it to be. At one point I was quite toasty and even contemplated removing some layers...until some t*sser purposely drove through a massive puddle and cover us in a tidal wave of icy cold water. I was so angry, I even used the c-word. Even though the industry I work in, being called a c-word is actually a term of endearment!

So, this week (Thursday, December 1) sees the start of the Marcothon. Nearly December and no sign of snow/ice yet. Touch wood. There are over 500 recuits on Facebook. Apparently there are lots of followers on Twitter too. Although I don't really understand Twitter, so you'll have to advise me on that.

Here are a few of my favourite posts on Marcothon Facebook page:

"The event of the year is back. Can't wait" Graeme Lawson, "Even If I have to limp it" Need Neilson, "Oh dear god, not again! What am I saying? Of course we're in" Sweatshop Glasgow, "Defo! Bring on the snow, none of this warm autumnal nonsense" Toby Messenger, "Great idea. I'm keen" Andrew Murray, "A fun idea. Got to give it a go" Tony Gilmour, "Discussed this with the wife who said it was a good idea as I might even lose some weight" James Savage, "In 24 years of running, I've never run7 days/wk so this should be interesting" Zoe Thornburgh, "It was a great incentive last year and met so many people. Looking forward to giving it a god again this year" Fiona Macdonald, "Third attempt. No excuses. I will finish the Marcothon" Norman Mcneill, "Last year if helped me regain my fitness and set a new half-marathon PB" Harvey Whittington "Will help me get my butt out there in what is normally a cold dark month" Ian Beattie, "Christmas day is brilliant to run. I do it every year and love it. It's so quiet it's as if you own the city" Leanne Hamilton, "Can't wait for this. I start a new job with a long commute and it's exactly what I need to avoid picking up bad habits" Lucy Blake, "Hell's teeth. If you lot are, I are" Rich McLeod, "It's December, must be Marcotime" Stan Bland, "Can't wait to go for runs in snow after nights of Christmas partying" Niall Mcleod, "It's just the challenge I need to get back to the discipline of running regular again" Kirsty Davies Snare, "As a non-runner just now sounds like a great challenge to get me running again" Alan Lindsay, "Why not? Except for business, Christmas events, two children and bad weather...I don't have any ideas why this wouldn't work" Harald Jasser, "We have a whole batch of runners from Forward Fitness Glasgow doing it" Elle Morrison, "Delighted to report the cast and crew of Batman Live the World Arena Tour are signing up in aid of Luekaemia and Lymphonoma Research" John Conroy

There's also a nice wee bit in the Scottish Running Guide.

Not long now, folks. I've got my Kahtoolas ready. Last year, I managed to get my hands (well, feet) on a pair the day before the ice melted.

At £45 they're not exactly cheap, but I found a very similar alternative on ebay for less that £12. I bought a pair for my Mum and Sister - for just generally getting about on the ice - and they look like a pretty good deal to me.

A girlie weekend

2011-11-23T21:42:00.012Z

Last Saturday morning, I met with the Garscube gals (and two token chaps) for a 10-mile trail run around Mugdock Park.

I probably only make club training about twice a month on average, so it was nice to catch up with some old faces and meet some new ones. Although I always feel like the new girl these days.

The run was due to start at 8:30, but there were a few minor delays. The carpark to the visitor centre was closed, so we abandoned cars outside. Then it was open, so we all moved. Then two gals were running late after an alarm malfunction - that wouldn't happen on JK's shift :-) Then we had to wait for a few to use the powder room. I decided against it as I'm so used to peeing outdoors these days, that I don't feel the need for a "make sure". Actually, I'll stick my neck out and say I actually prefer al fresco peeing over public facilities. It's also quite liberating :-) Just as well really, as I can barely make it round six miles these days.

The lovely Karen Mac was official tour guide for the day. Thankfully, as I had no idea where we were. And having to watch my footwork meant that I wouldn't be able to retrace my steps for re-run of the route in future.

We all stayed together, so it was nice to chat to people I wouldn't normally get a chance to. A people chain of beautifully co-ordinated outfits (again, you wouldn't ge that on JK's shift) all zig-zagging though knee-deep muddy fields. Although I'm not convinced it was just mud in parts! There was lots of Squelching, shrieking and whooping.

It was jam-packed 10 miler - hills, fields, fence hopping, mud, streams, road, trail, more mud - and lots of water!

An off- road run that doesn't require an outfit change before getting in the car or pre-washing your socks, isn't quite an off-road run.

On the Sunday, I went for a hilly 14-mile road run with the Gibbering Midget - thanks to my wonderful Mum's babysitting services. The difference with running hills on the road, is you've just got to man-up and run up 'em. There's no plodding and admiring the views like you do when you're off road. Although the last hill nearly had me on my knees, it was a grand day out.

Something worth sharing

2011-11-18T17:56:00.001Z

Compiled by Julie, self-confessed "watcher of the trails" this is a lovely thought-provoking and inspiring list of observations...just in case you're not an avid reader of the WHWR blogroll, here it is...

In no particular order, these are the things I've learnt from runners and running.

Falling over hurts.
Getting back up hurts more.
Getting back up and running again hurts less.
Everybody has bad days and bad races.
Upright, outside and running is a damn good place to be.
Running through puddles doesn't stop being fun past the age of 5.
Ex-boyfriends are like jellyfish.
Good shoes are not a luxury.
Midgies are evil.

Sore legs are not a reason not to go running.
Don't ask an ultra runner to decide if you're hurt or have a whingery. They don't understand hurt.
The human body is capable of impossible things.
Running 3 minutes for the first time is harder than running 30 minutes for the first time.
Rain is a reason to go out running, not a reason to stay in.
It doesn't matter how long or short you run; sooner or later your bowels will catch you out.
Runners want other runners to do well.
The inside seam of your leggings will give way at the furthest point from home.
Only normal people have ten toenails.

It's possible to start running with tears pouring down your face.
It's not possible to keep crying when you're running.
Learning to stretch is not optional.
Being hugged by a hot and sweaty friend at the end of their race is wonderful.
A race has a winner but never a loser.
Never say never again.
Adrenalin and joy will keep you awake for a whole weekend.
Running is addictive.
Despite being an incredibly selfish sport (in terms of time and effort committed to training and racing), ultra runners are generous and open-hearted. Mostly. I'm sure there must be the odd bad egg.
Fetcheveryone.
A mile is a very long way.
Second place to Lucy counts as a win.

Legends work in supermarkets.
True love will climb Conic Hill to deliver blueberries.
Your soulmate will walk you across the Lharig Mor in the dark and cold.
TTFU.

It helps to be able to see where your feet are going.
Stopping and restarting is much harder than keeping going.
Here's to the Dreamers - God bless us all!
Run as fast as you can for as long as you can may work for Stu Mills; for most of us, negative splits are the way to go.
The longer the race, the less you compete against others and more against yourself.
A good support crew is priceless.
Too much water is more lethal than too little.
Some people race and some people run.
Being sick when you run is not a big deal, continuing to be sick when you stop is.

There is at least one person who can run 90 miles on a broken ankle.
There is at least one person who can run 15 miles while having a heart attack.
Runners don't stop because they get old.
Sometimes you run away, sometimes you run home, and sometimes you run in circles.
Jelly babies are a recognised food group.
Dates and crisps are not.
Keep putting one foot in front of the other and you'll get to the end.
There are more uses for vaseline than you really want to think about.
Ultra runners have an inordinate capacity for food and alcohol.

Hazel McFarlane runs ultras. She's also blind.
Only yoofs and wannabe rappers have white trainers.
The body can't remember pain. The mind will rationalise it.
There will always be someone who can run faster or further than you.
But maybe not both.
And maybe not today.
Finishing last is better than not starting.

Always run from the heart.
No regrets.

The long and short of it.

2011-11-13T22:43:00.002Z

I have been running. Honest. Unfortunately my enthusiasm for blogging has gone into hiding with my mojo for running. Only one post in October - and even that was a picture of a pot of urine.

So, here goes. I took 10 days rest after the 24-hour race - enforced rest, as I was destroyed. I went out for my first run on the second day of holiday in Madeira. It wasn't pretty, but it wasn't awful either. Nothing hurt, but nothing moved properly. More like arms and legs flapping in robotic motions. It got better as the days went on and I managed four runs over the week. Given that Madeira was unseasonable hot, I had to get up and get back before the sun came up. It was tough enough, without adding 30 degrees to the equation.

And hilly! Wow, it's a hilly place. And I'm not talking about the mountains, just the roads. I'm sure even my car could get up those inclines.

Madeira is really beautiful, and staying five-star was total bliss. Although I'm not sure the hotel were quite prepared for the en slot of Cairn. He doesn't come with volume control. Or how much Sonic can actually eat from the buffet breakfast. Still we managed to bring down the average age of the island quite significantly.

Sonic managed to get in some hill reps with a heavy pack...

If you're bored, the holiday snaps are on flickr. Click here.

I'm back to running six days a week - Friday is my rest day - and doing two speed sessions. It's coming back slowly, but surely. Some days I feel great and other days are just plain rotten. Most days, my heart's really not it.

Last weekend I had two good runs. One on the Kilpatrick Hills with the GM and Mr and Mrs Pacepushers. Despite having the frozen car, it was a glorious morning. Really crisp and clear - just the way I like it. It was great to get my trail shoes on again, as the last time I was off-road was the Devils race in August.

Moving forward, I doing a 10K at the end of the month in Bournemouth. That will be, erm, interesting. Over the last few years, the only 10K I've done it the Glasgow Women's 10K and that always falls just after the Highland Fling.

My plans for 2012 are still a bit up in the air. I've decided against doing the West Highland Way Race again this year. Three goblets is surfice for the time being. I've got a place on the Grand Union Canal Race in June. That's 145 mile from Birmingham to London on the - yes, you've guessed it - the Grand Union Canal. This has come as a bit of shocker to my club mates, as I'm usually the first to whine when club runs are on the Forth and Clyde Canal. I've been known to liken it to treadmill running. Anyway, I now just remind them that what I've mentally endured this year with lapped running, the canal is a joy!

Marcothon 2012

2011-11-01T16:41:00.003Z

Can you believe it's November already? That's exactly one calendar month to the start of the third Marcothon.

There are already 300+ people signed up on Facebook from all over the world - and it's growing daily.

The rules are simply, you must run every day in DECEMBER (any other month doesn't count). Minimum of three miles or 25 minutes – which ever comes first. The challenge starts on December 1 and finishes on December 31. And yes, that includes Christmas Day.

It's not a competition. Just a personal challenge or an incentive to burn off a few mince pies. So, who’s up for it the Marcothon 2011?

Don't try this at home, folks

2011-10-13T21:17:00.002+01:00

Following my recent race report, I've been accused of making the 24-hour sound "quite nice". In reality, the aftermath was much less pleasant than the event itself.

When I finished the race, I was congratulated by an official from UKA ...only to be informed that I was selected for random drug testing. I thought this would have been a simple affair. Wrong. I was whisked off to a campervan, where I had to be helped up the two steps. Sonic was required to join me as my official witness. I had to fill in numerous forms, sign confessions, declare all medical consumption and wear surgical gloves to open and close various tubs and tubes. Then the representative had to escort me in the portaloo to watch me wee. Quite literally watch me. I would have been mortified, but I was totally passed caring. At first I thought I was going to have stage fright or be too dehydrated to perform, but when it started flowing I didn't think I would stop. So I was standing squealing and cursing as the tub overflowed and covered my clothes. After wearing the same pants and tights for 24 hours, I doubt it would have made any difference.

Anyway the result was so horrifying it deserved a picture for the blog. This is quite special, don't you think? More water, less coke maybe?

(Yes, this was my first post-race pee!)

After my ordeal was over and I was seated and covered in a blanket to control the shivering, I watched the GM violently puke in a bucket before her lifeless body we carted off to the hotel. She has turned a cartoon-style colour of green. I thought it was quite comical that Val and Sue (team Scotland volunteers) had to strip her and put her in the bath. Until of course Sonic had to get me out of the bath, dry me and put my underwear on. Ah, the romance.

After I was escorted to bed and slept for about 20 mins (damn that adrenaline!) - and the majority of that was spent trying to turn over - we went out for nice Italian meal. It more a case of devouring every carb on the menu. We were so scooped, we couldn't even finish a GLASS of wine. I've never been know not to finish a BOTTLE of wine.

And this, dear reader, is the classy restaurant exit of the international athletes...

That evening my calves and ankles became one - and ballooned quite specularly. Sonic woke at 3am to find me clutching the door frame of the bathroom and wailing about how it took me 30 minutes to get there. I needed assistance for quite a few days and got lots of bizarre looks when shuffling about the streets.

My legs took about a week to resume normal shape and my "cankles" were the joke of the office for a few days. Thankfully, they took pity on me and published a nice story. I think the Editor felt obliged :-)

Last arrow in my quiver

2011-09-30T08:06:00.004+01:00

"It'll be FUN!" That's what the chipper Canadian girl said as we waited outside the portaloos before the start of the 24-hour race at Commonwealth Championships. As the GM and I looked at each other, she finished: "FUN stands for F**king Unbelievably Nasty". And that statement became the event strap line.

Ultrarunning isn't fun. You don't play ultra-running like you play football or hockey. It's all about the journey. And if the journey is blessed with a scenic backdrop, then it's a litle more pleasant.

On Thursday, when we made the trip down to Llandudno, North Wales the views across the hills and open water were spectacular. So why did I travel 300 miles - to an area I instantly fell in love with - to run a one kilometre loop around a central reservation in a housing estate? Two reasons really 1) I actually wanted to run a 24-hour race 2) I had the honour of being selected for the Scotland team.

In summary: I finished 4th lady with 208.57 kilometres (or short of 130 miles in my speak). 1st lady being the global phenomenon that is Lizzie Hawker, who broke the world record. I was first Scot - and that includes all the boys - and broke the Scottish 200K record. Together with the Gibbering Midget (who broke the Scottish 100m record) and Pauline Walker (who retains her 24-hour record) we took bronze for the ladies team.

Click here for full results

Team Scotland: The before, the after and the happily-ever-after...

Sharon AKA the Gibbering Midget (204km), me (208km) and Pauline (193km)

Jk put together a fantastic video of the race. See below. Lucky for you and me, that saves me writing a real race report :-) Let's be honest, 24-hours around a 1K loop is never going to be a right riveting read.

Some things I noted...

Blast Off: The race goes off too fast - even if, from the outside, it looks ridiculously slow. Australian, Jo Blake went off like sh*t off a shovel (as my Granny would say) and left me feeling way out of my depth. The uber-experienced, William Sichel told me that the race completely changes after four hours, and he was so right. I have never seen the wheels far off anyone like that before. And by hour 12 it was a whole different set-up. Although the neightbourhood had started to resemble a scene from Dawn of the Dead. Given the average age of a Llandudno resident, this probably wasn't out of the norm.

Walking isn't cheating: It's planning. Towards the end I was walking way faster than I could possibly run. I ran for the first 50 miles and then played some games: I'd run for 20 minutes and then walk for two minutes. Then I would run 3/4 laps to the feed station and then walk to the top corner. Later in the race it was run for 100 counts, walk for 50. And in the last hour - when my calves had exploded and my hip flexors had their own pulse - I just gave up all hope of running.

The laps weren't that bad. Actually they didn't bother me at all. Mainly because the race is about time, not distance. The clock that didn't move on the other hand...aaahh! It was a LONG 24-hours. If a marathon is a games of two halves: 20 miles and then the last six, then this race is certainly 20 hours and then the final four.

Lapping, not napping. I've never been one for faffing about at checkpoints. The longest I stopped for was to put my calf guards on. Although with Fiona Rennie within earshot screaming "keep moving!" there was little danger of over staying my welcome.

Who's where?: I had no idea where I was in terms of position, so I relied on Sonic for information. I seemed to spend a few hours at a time playing catch up an individual runner - but never the same one. It was good though, as I pretty much got to know everyone in the field. Well, apart from the unsociable ones. I ran a good bit with Sharon Gaytor, before she pulled away. Her race didn't quite so to plan and I caught her a few hours later. Sonic was on hand to give me the required information: "Come one, you're going to catch Sharon Gaytor on the next lap. She's totally burst" I had to giggle and point out that her husband was standing right next to him. With absolutely no one else about. I don't think they were bessie mates after that.

Some blether on the weather: To be fair, we were really lucky. Not a drop of rain. It was fairly breezy though. And muggy. One straight was warm with a tailwind and the other was straight into a headwind. It was essentially blowing hot and cold every three/four minutes for 24 hours! Although I'd packed for all eventualities, I wore just my vest the whole time.

Keeping the points in check: When you're used to fuelling at 10 mile section points, seeing the feed station every kilometre throws you a bit. Sonic was even coming behind the tent to see if I needed anything, so I was seeing him every three minutes! I kept telling him to go and sit down. At one point I felt like I'd taking in too much, so tried to stick to every five miles (I still can't work kilometres!) It will probably come as now surprise to you that my food intake was pretty poor. I had a few bit of tablet, a couple of sandwiches, handful of sweets, two Goodness Shakes...and then mainly survived of coke. I've learned that I can take Gu gels, as I long as I throw them back and take a gulp of coke. We came home on Monday with so much stuff, I'm sorted for Halloween. Although Sonic's been trick or treating all week!

It kinda hurt. But as I sit here almost a week later, I've forgotten all the nasty stuff. Yes, it's like childbirth. And as with childbirth, it's going to take all the king's horses and all the king's men to put me back together again. But hey, it's the best time to happen. I'm not only done in, I'm done. That's all from me this year, folks. The quiver's empty.

I'm off on holiday on Monday - to Madeira. I had a big f**k-it moment when I booked it, and we're going five-star. Before we go, we're off to Inverness for the Loch Ness Marathon this weekend. Cairn's taking one for the team and doing the Wee Nessie again.

___________

HUGE thanks to Sonic for putting up with me for the whole 24-hours. Considering how short the laps are, it must be been pretty relentless. I thought I was on my best behaviour, but he had a different opinion. I guess there were a few diva moments then.

Thanks to Team Scotland - Adrian, Mike, Val, Sue, Ken, Fiona, Les, Tim, JK and anyone else who chipped it. Also, thanks to the organisers, lap counters and everyone who came out to cheer us on (an up!). The support was amazing - especially the random strangers who got caught up in the excitement. I lost count of the amount of times I heard gasps of: "They're do what?"

You get what you pay for

2011-09-10T15:40:00.002+01:00

It's been a while since I bought a useless random purchase. Recently I've been thinking of investing in step machine/staircase/stepper (delete as appropriate). My useless random way of thinking, is that I could condition my legs for the hills without the need for hills and/or childcare. Simples? Advice anyone?

I'm really looking for a backup plan in case we get another winter like last. Long suffering readers of this blog, may recall that winter on the hills is not a good combination for me.

Anyway, this hasn't gone further than my crazy thoughts and quick look through the wonder and joy that it Amazon.

First to note is that such a machine isn't as readily available as they once were during the height of the craze. Secondly, the extremes are quick comical. Yes, you do get what you pay for.

How about the StairMaster Stepmill Stepper. Yours for a mere £7194.

I've got one of these in the house already. It's just not motorised. One end of the extreme. It's not really in my budget. Especially considering - let's be honest - I'd barely use it. It would be more cost effective to march up and down the stairs in my office building.

Then there's this budget contraption. The Sitting Stepper - Personal Portable Mini Step Up Exerciser, retailing at £8.99.

Surely they've got a cheek adding "exerciser" into the product name?

The latter is hilarious. What a great cardio workout from the comfort of your sofa. I can sonic's face now. I could even do it at work. You know how I'm always moaning about time constraints. A wee Loch Lomond screensaver on my PC and I'd be half way up Conic Hill.

Yep, I'm still looking....

Back-to-backs

2011-09-08T21:30:00.000+01:00

Well, that's my last weekend of training done and dusted. Signed off with two very pleasant 20-milers.

On Saturday morning I met with the GM, Emma and Nicola who are training for Berlin and Chester marathon (respectively). Yes, I managed to drag three childless gals out for an early start. Well, with the exception of the GM, who makes larks look like students.

A dull, but flat, out-and-back on the canal. We stayed together for the first few miles and then Emma and Nicola pushed on to do a 13-mile marathon tempo. Thus reminding me why I'm too lazy to run marathons. The GM and I just stayed in our steady groove. With another 20 miler looming, we didn't have the luxury of going all out. That was our excuse and we were sticking to it.

I was so nice to have the GM back in action - and injury free - and it was good to have a proper chat about plans and strategies for the 24 hour race. Although we spent more time discussing outfits for the closing celebration party.

The most entertaining thing about hanging out with the Gibbering Midget, is that she gibbers so much that nothing goes round the brain first. Like when discussing nutrition for the race, she duly informed me she's "right fond of the coke just now". Not quite as priceless as the time she annouced to a packed train "Since the WHWR, I just can't stop bonking. I was even bonking going round Tesco the other day". You could have heard a pin drop. Even over my snorting.

On Sunday morning, I had arrange for Cairn to go to my Mum's for a few hours and I ran the 20-miler down Ayshire way. A very late start for the GM and I, at a very civilised 9am.

I know sometimes the untrained eye can get the GM and I mixed up, but when we rolled up in the matching cars (yes, same make, model and colour) pink Adidas tees, nike sleeves, Gore visor and Brooks Adrenaline trainers, we can't quite understand why. The only difference was I'd swapped the Nathan bottle belt - which I'd used the day before - for a back pack.

So, that's it. No more big runs left. Just a 15-miler this Saturday. I wonder what complaints taperitus will throw at me.

I've got my post-race active recovery sorted out. Treated myself to a new road bike. It was in the sale, so it was practically free. Hopefully I should have it by the end of the week.

My Ironman quest starts next month. I might have made a dent in it by 2020.

What type of runner are you?

2011-09-07T08:02:00.000+01:00

The torture tour of Glasgow

2011-08-31T20:30:00.002+01:00

Appropriate training for a 24-hour race is a wide open to debate. As with all ultra-running training it's very much a personal thing. It's not as if you can google a tried and tested training schedule, download it, stick it on your fridge and get cracking. Believe me, I tried it. My three back-to-back long runs plan came from some random forum on some random website about some random guy who had run some random 24-hour race. To me it seemed like a good idea, so I pinched it. I don't even think I read anymore of the discussion on the matter. That was weekend training part one.

Weekend training part two was a plan devised in my own crazy thoughts. I may have mentioned it once or twice before, but I don't like surprises. Ignorance is never blissful. So I thought it would be a good idea (remember it's personal thing) to schedule in a 24-hour WALK. I ran this idea passed a few people. Everyone seemed intrigued, but no one said it seemed logical. Team selector and uber experienced ultra-runner Adrian Stott, even called on the guidance of William Sichel for his thoughts. He said it wasn't necessary, but could see my reasoning. There was a lot of chat on the damage that it could cause to my heels, which I didn't take as serious as I should have.

The original plan was to take the ferry over and walk around the Isle of Arran (55 miles) with the GM - who's also on the team for the 24-hour race. But then the GM got injured and that was knocked on the head. Unfortunately it wasn't knocked out of my head. A plan's a plan. Although without my trusty sidekick, a nice scenic route and the sense of achievement, I started to back track a little. I wasn't brave enough to walk round the island alone and I certainly wasn't comfortable with trawling the streets of Glasgow on my tod in the wee small hours.

So the torture tour started at 6am, just before a beautiful sunrise. I wasn't going to be rigid with plans, times or distances, as I was just going to see how it went. It was all about time of foot. Ok, I was back-tracking a lot.

I won't bore you with the details of where I walked, as I've tried to erase it from my mind, but it started on a loop round Milngavie then covered the west end, southside, out to Braehead, back through the city centre and back round the west end.

Throughout the day, all was going well. Although walking routes you tend to run takes FOREVER. Maybe popping into shops when something caught my eye didn't help. Although it was nice to finally get round to browsing in Run Urban, the new running shop on the southside. Plus it gave me a goal to walk the 23 miles (via the long way) to get there.

After about 30 miles the thunder and heavy rain started. I love running in the rain, but I don't share the same enthusiasm for walking in it. Then my heels started to rub and blister. I generally don't heel strike when I run, so the different walking action was taking it's toll on my feet and hips. And it was helluva lonely out there.

I decided to cap it at 50 miles. The idea of walking into the night - in Glasgow! - was not very appealing. 50 miles or 16:30 hours on foot was a good start. Plus, I helped with the economy. The good thing about urban walking is that you don't need to carry too much in supplies. Just me, my gadgets and some extra clothing. En route I purchased Meal Deals from Tesco and Sainsburys, sweets and juice from Asda, coffee from Costa and to finish off the culinary tour, a pizza from Morrisons. I should be a secret shopper. I had to run for a mile or so to get to Morrisons before it closed. The jogging motion felt soooo good and all the discomforted instantly disappeared. That's a good sign after 16 hours. Although after being on the go for so long, I would highly recommend avoiding the self-checkout tills. It nearly got a good kick.

To be honest, I didn't think walking 50 miles could hurt so much. My hips ached and I'd suddenly developed "cankles". But hey, no running all weekend. Although being a sofa athlete and watching various races unfold was just as exhausting. Well done to Matt, Paul and Lucy for the top three at Speyside. Huge congratulations to everyone who conquered and fought well at the UTMB. That looked epic and provided edge-of-the-seat drama for a couple of days. Then Mo Farah narrowly missing out on gold at the World Championship 10,000 nearly tipped me over.

Every picture tells a story and this one is filled with emotion.

So, what's your picture story, Richie? Is this how babies are made? After a top 50 finish in the UTMB as well. Now that's endurance :-) Congratulations guys!!

Exciting news!

2011-08-24T20:32:00.002+01:00

Do you like the new logo on the right? Well, I love it. I was absolutely delighted - and even more shocked! - when MONTANE asked me to be their first female ultra-running sponsored athlete.

When I stopped jumping up and down and shrieking I answered their initial interview questions for their website and marketing material.

Click here to read the interview

Before the news had time to go to my head, I had to get training for the 24-hour race. It started the weekend after the Devils with an 18-mile road run with the lovely Emma. Great company, but let's just say I've had easier runs. An out-and-back on the Clyde Stride route, right through the Pipeband Championships at Glasgow Green. The only time I like the sound of bagpipes is during a race, because it signifies the end or at least the end of a mile. Any other time, I fail to understand how it can be called a "musical" instrument.

Last weekend, I took Friday off work - which is a shame because I LOVE, LOVE my job* - to get in some long runs. I remember when days off were about colossal hangovers and shopping and sunny days were about more than the sheer excitement of getting as much washing on the line as possible. All part of the ageing process, I think.

Anyway, I did 20 miles on Friday morning. 20 miles on Friday afternoon. And another 20 miles on Saturday morning. All on road and on the dullest of routes. All in all, I was pretty pleased with the runs. And even more pleased to have finished three long runs before noon on Saturday. Trainers away and the weekend was all mine. I took Cairn to the park, did some shopping, made homemade seafood for dinner and settled down to watch X Factor with some vino. On any other day, this would have been my idea of heaven. Another part of the ageing process, I think. But after the over-exertion I couldn't really face food even left half a glass of wine. Granted I'd had two glasses prior to my early retirement, but still, It's unheard of.

On Sunday my legs felt fine, but my body felt like someone had sucked out my soul. Combination of many miles, wine and the possibility of some germs, courtesy of Cairn. He's had some kind of lurgy for the passed couple of weeks. Snotty nose and raspy throat. The nursery called me on Wednesday afternoon asking me to pick him as he had a "raging fever". I called the doctor's surgery en route to collect him for an emergency appointment. He looked pretty sorry for himself when I picked up him, but then went skipping into the surgery and proceeded to entertain the packed waiting room with renditions of "Old McDonald Had a Farm". When called for the appointment, the doctor looked over her glasses and said: "Is this the emergency appointment?". I did stutter something about it be billed to me differently, but I guess I'm now on his file as "includes neurotic Mother". You gotta love kids. He was back at nursery the next day.

So far this week has been a bit stop-start, but I think I'm back on track. Last couple of weeks of training before - guess what? - tapering again.

Very best of luck to everyone taking part in the UTMB this weekend. JK set up a site to follow friends of the WHWR throughout the races. Click here.

* I've recently found out that my Editor's wife has discovered my blog :-)

Let the devil take the hindmost

2011-08-12T07:44:00.001+01:00

Saturday saw me lining up for my fourth Devil o' the Highlands. It was to be my fifth ultra in just over four months. Not a big ask for some of the nutters I know, but for me it was out of my comfort zone.

I managed to secure a last minute place in the race. Basically just for the Scottish Ultra Marathon Series points. I guess that makes me a pot-hunter :-)

There was no real opportunity to train for this. Ever since my 100K race in March, my sequence has been race, recover, taper, repeat.

Friday wasn't the pre-race preparation and restful day I was hoping for. Flat tyre, poorly child, Sonic trailed dog sh*t through the house and although I'd planned a day off work, that was knocked on the head. And I still had to pack, drop Cairn off at my Mum's (early start, busy roads/checkpoints and the midge fest that is the highlands, is not the best place for a two-year-old) and travel up to Tyndrum.

Sonic (still injured and resigned to back up again, much to his delight) and I were staying in a Hiker's Hut (emphasis on the "hut") at Pinetrees Caravan Park. Tyndrum was pretty jammed-packed, but I'd managed to get a cancellation. Last minute was certainly the theme for this race. All for an extra hour in bed no stress travelling to the race start. I do get quite freaked before races. I'm a space cadet at the best of times, but pre-race I'm pretty vacant and walk about like a startled rabbit. I suppose it's my way of dealing with nerves. Not having the journey was one less thing to tighten my strings.

I was up at 4am for porridge and coffee, dressed and off to registration and race briefing. It was wasn't long before we congregated round at Brodie's Store ready for the start at 6am. And then we were off...

I ran with JK for the first few sections. Actually, by his own omission, he attached himself to me like an umbilical cord. It was great though, as I haven't really had the chance to run with him much this year. The miles just zipped passed. As planned, I just kept to my own pace and let others go tearing off. I did have a silent giggle watching people pelting up the hills.

JK was running without a watch, so I tried to make a conscious effort not to mention time or pace. I did slip up on the approach to BoO by airing my disbelief that it wasn't even 7am. Although I'm pretty sure he could see the screen on my Garmin, if he wanted to. They're not exactly the daintiest of watches.

Before long, we had reached the first support point at Bridge of Orchy. I planned to just pick up some tablet to eat heading up the hill, which I did. I always walk most this section, safe in the knowledge that we would soon pass the people who had chosen not too. Which we did.

The lovely Davie was on snapper duty at the top of the Orchy Hills and I joked that I was still trying to shake JK off. I really enjoyed the descent into Inveronan. The last time I was on this hill was after 60+ miles and my glutes weren't happy about the downhill pounding.

Heading round to Victoria Bridge, JK informed me that Sonic was going to meet us at the gate. Just as well, as I would have been in panic mode looking for him. Well, panic mode looking for my supplies.

In this race, in that location at this time of year, the runners get a better deal. The midges were awful. You know it's bad when they annoy you while running. I picked up some fluid, a gel and some sweets - which I didn't touch, but carried for the next 30 miles.

Moving on, I nearly tripped over Helen Lees who had stopped to tie her shoe lace. It took me a few miles to discover why. I was carrying twins :-)

It was such a lovely morning and Rannoch Mor was glorious. We caught up with a few runners over the six mile stretch and started to gain on the gals who were sitting in 3rd and 4th position. I wasn't even remotely bothered, as I was sticking to my plan. My plan was based on staying comfortable, not time. Last year in this section, I felt awful. This year was a different story. I'm not quite sure where I was getting the energy from.

We caught up with the GM just before the descent into Glencoe and I ran with her down to the ski centre. That was the last I saw of JK. Maybe it was the GM's mooning that tipped him over ;-)

The GM stopped to meet up her support and I pushed on to Kingshouse, where I had arranged to meet Sonic. I think even he was surprised to see me coming down in second place. I moved on quickly as nature was calling. Rannoch Mor is so exposed that there's no where to hide. I was now is urgent need of a hiding place.

As usual the section to the Devil's Staircase was trickier than I remember. The whole race is based on going up to come back down, so why do I always resent it so much on these three miles?

It was starting to heat up as I stomped up the hill. Norry was soon to overtake me. Giving the way he ascends, he'd be better off walking the race. I overtook another few runners on the way down to Kinlochleven - including Norry. I must have been quite sneaky, as he nearly shot out of his skin when I passed. I think I had the same response when Helen appeared by my side just before the town.

With Sonic on super-slick support, I was in and out of Kinlochleven in no time. JK's daughters later joked that Sonic had laid out all my food, drink and gear and all I picked up was a jelly bean :-) Actually it was a gel. I still had a full supply of jelly beans.

At the top of the last killer ascent, Helen and I were neck-and-neck. We were passing quite a few walkers and one lady asked Helen is she wanted a plaster for a her knee, to which she replied it was a just a graze and didn't hurt. I hadn't noticed, and I don't think she even realised that she would later need stitches. She was starting to mirror my moves, so I was having flashbacks from the WHWR with Adam. I know in a shorter distance on any other terrain, Helen would whip my ass. She even looks like a good runner. But in this race, I was going to have to rely on the miles in my legs to pull away. Of course, the miles in my legs could also go against me.

I started to build some distance, but there wasn't much in it. Although I felt good on Lairig Mor, the heat was starting to get to me. I was stumbling on the rocky path. As soon as the sun went behind the clouds and the breeze picked up, I felt reborn.

I was probably only a few minutes ahead of Helen at Lundarva and moved in and out swiftly. I saved my precious Coke for this checkpoint, which went down a treat. I passed a chap from Helensburgh, who looked burst. Looking back on the race splits, you'll see why. I was going to tell him I remember him for missing the start and racing to catch up at the Rouken Glen x-country, but thought it wasn't the time for humour or chit chat.

I knew I would have to work hard to get under 7 hours. That was all I was looking for after all. I felt pretty light and pushed on the hills. Thankfully the conservative start had left a bit in the tank. The newly cleared forest adds to the competition in this race, as runners can now see each other. As I hit the trail, I looked back and say Helen. It was just what I needed. I quite literally flew down the track, watching every minute tick by.

I saw the lovely Mrs JK just before Braveheart Carpark. I think I might have gasped something incoherent. By the time I hit the carpark I knew the sub 7 was a sitter, so I was more comfortable. I even had a few walking breaks. Hey, you've got to save yourself for the final sprint. Plus, sort you hair and wipe away the boggies for the pictures ;-)

I finished second lady (13th overall) in 6:56:35. Considering it was my 5th ultra this year, it was by the far the best I've ever felt in a race. Just one of those lucky days when it all comes together, I guess. I progressively moved up the field leg position at the three checkpoints were 23rd, 12th to 10th.

So for a last minute entry, it came with lots of benefits 1) Second lady - and my fourth podium finish in the race 2) A personal best 3) New club record 4) New ladies record for the Triple Crown and 5) I'm now leading the SUMS overall - for now! All in a day's work.

Click here for full reults. Huge congratulations to everyone who finished. Special mentions to Matt Williamson who was 1st (told you so, Matt), the Crazy German 2nd and the amazing Lucy Colquhoun who was third overall, 1st lady and smashed the ladies record by 64 minutes to finish in 5:47. Lucy was so far ahead that trekkers kept telling me I was leading :-) I don't think they believed anyone was that fast when I corrected them. Even Sonic thought she might have pulled out.

Thanks to Garry and Gemma for putting on a great race (and giving me a late place) and all the stewards on the day. Standing on the A82 on a sunny Saturday morning has got be over and above the call of duty. Thanks also to the lovely the man from the Wilderness Response Team who gave me water on Lairig Mor. I wasn't until after the race that the reality of cheery chap manning a tuck shop on remote Lairig Mor sunk in. Somehow in the heat of the day, that seemed pretty normal. Thanks to JK, Davie, Julie and Suse for the pictures and Team Kynaston for the videos. Thanks to JK for "keeping me honest" at the start and Helen for pushing me for the sub:7.

Huge thanks to Sonic for his superb back-up - again! Even after months of injury and no running he's been much more sane and tolerable than I would ever be. Although when I'm feeling a little low or flat, I buy new shoes. He bought a sports car! I'm holding out for an injury some time soon.

So, that's it. I've hung up my trail shoes for the rest of the year. I've been lucky enough to be selected for the Scotland 24-hour race team at the Commonwealth Mountain and Ultra Distance Running Championship in Wales next month. I'll be pavement pounding for the next weeks. Recover, taper, race...and then it's all over,

Forget raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens....

2011-07-27T20:40:00.003+01:00

...these are a few of my favourite (ultra-running) things...

Hydration packs: If you're anything like me, you'll probably have a collection of backpacks and bottle belts. All with pros and cons, but your "perfect solution" hasn't been invented yet. The Nathan Trail Mix Bottle Belt is as close as I've got to my perfect solution. I've worn in on various training runs and races - including two 95-milers - and not have a bit of bother with it.

My latest "perfect solution" purchase is The North Face Women's Enduro Boa. Once you get over the initial shock of paying for it - retails at a healthy £85 - you will realise it's not your run-of-the-mill pack. I find it hard to find rucksacks to fit me (resulting in some serious abrasion) because I have narrow shoulders and zero boobage, but this fits like a glove and redistributes the weight just right. Plus the anti-slosh control (which essentially means there's internal wiring, controlled by a knob, which tightens the bladder) so no more annoying sound. The downside is the exterior storage pocket is made of mesh, so useless if it rains.

Waterproofs/windproofs: I've never been a fan of running jackets, but the man from Montane convinced me otherwise. As the title sponsor of the Montane Highland Fling, they sent me a box of goodies for being second lady. I know the Montane Featherlite range is highly rated among the hill running fraternity and now I know why. As the name suggest, it weighs next to nothing and takes up next to no space. Previously it was the rustle-factor that put me off waterproofs, but this is the same as a long sleeve - with added benefits

For the feet: I've dabbled with a few trail shoe brands over the years - including Brooks, Saucony and Asics - but I'm now a firm Inov-8 convert. Now I run in Roclite 275 GTX. They are lightweight (my old Asics Trabucos were like bricks) and provide good underfoot cushioning. The negatives are (in my opinion: the fabric tends to "burst" well before the end of the shoes shelf life; they ain't cheap; and I don't really see the need for Goretex (which adds to the expense) in trail running shoes. If it's wet, your feet will get wet anyway; And unlike bigger brands, don't change their products/colours often. Do you have any idea how troublesome it is to get gear to go with green shoes? Think pink and blue, Mr Inov-8 please.

I ordered Injinji socks from the US and few years ago, but thankfully you can now get them in the UK. I wear them on long runs and races and think they help a great deal. There's a little pocket for each toe, which eliminates skin on skin contact between your toes to prevent blisters from developing.

My latest little diamond of a find, was Flexitol Blistop. It was specifically designed to protect the feet from blisters and sprays on a like transparent second skin. After reading a review in Running Fitness, I used this for the first time on the West Highland Way Race. Anyone who was there (or has read my race report) will know how wet the conditions were. Sometimes it was like wading through rivers. My feet really only blister when they're wet. And in same spots over and over again. Well, I sprayed this very liberally (best to do it outside, as it's potent) and only got one small blister. I didn't get any on the Clyde Stride. When I say liberally, I mean the packaging says it provides 42 applications, but only TWO for me. It's worth it not to have problems with your feet during a race.

I may have fallen out of love with them a little bit earlier in the year, but I still rate lock laces for comfort and ease of changing shoes. Just don't wear them on a hilly run in the rain, as they allow wet feet too much movement. The result is very bashed toes. I'll stick with them in my road shoes in future.

I DO believe the hype about compression gear. I like Skins, 2XU and New Balance have a nice new range. I just wish someone would come out with something a little more girlie. Raidlight have got the right idea - their ladies range comes in nice girlie colours with lovely flower motifs. I know that sounds really lame, but it's quite boring when everything looks the same. Only problem is that even their smallest size tights are quite baggy. I like lots of support.

Love or loathe them, arm sleeves are the best things ever invented. Well, in my world they are. They're perfect for Spring and Autumn, when it's too cold not to start with sleeves and too warm to keep them on. Plus, you're not in and out of your rucksack on a long run, when the weather turns. I really like these sleeves by 1000 Mile as they've got the thumb holes. There's something quite strangely comforting about thumb holes, isn't there?

The gadgets: Although I love them, I don't have much luck with ipods. Actually, I think this I'm on my 6th or 7th. I doubt it will be my last, but so far it's the best. It's tiny, clips onto my waistband and has a multi-touch display and an inbuilt radio. I do like listening to the radio, especially in the morning.

My luck with Garmins, is not too dissimilar to that of the ipod. I've had a few Garmin Forerunner 205, but upgraded to the 310xt last year. It's fairly similar to the 205, but with a longer battery life - approx 18 hours, not the 20 hours it promotes. The best thing about this 310xt is it's ability to get a signal. Great for me, as a lot of my runs start in built up areas. Previously I could spend 10 minutes loitering on street corners outside my office. I was once propositioned on a dark winter's morning. How do think I paid for the upgrade? Just kidding :-)

Food on the go: I know this is very much a personal choice and what works for you might differ from run to run. I find it quite difficult to eat during races, but this is what works for me on runs. Wine gums are my sweet of choice just now. I used to opt for jelly babies, but went off them after a while. I'm also partial to a Midget Gems and Skittles. All of which are hard to eat on road runs and races, but great for a munch whilst stomping up a hill.
I also like gold old Scottish tablet. I tried it for a first time couple of years ago and thought it had magical powers. After I introduced the GM to wonder drug, she had to go one step further a discover Mrs Tilly Vanilla Fudge and Tablet. I kid you not, after 22 years of friendship, this is by far my favourite thing about the GM :-) Now we start most training runs with:..."just you, me and Mrs T".

When it comes to fluids, unfortunately I'm not a "could-murder-a-glass-of-water" kind of gal. Truth to be told, I rarely drink water. Ever. On runs I prefer sport drinks such as Lucozade or Powerade (whatever happens to be on offer when I do the shopping) and dilluting Ribena.

For a quick fix I like flat coke - sometimes with gas for a good burp :-) and for an even quicker fix, a Red Bull Shot. Looking back at this list, I feel suitable ashamed. What a load of rubbish. The funniest thing is going to do the shopping pre-race day and getting some really strange looks at the the supermarket checkout. Especially when you throw in a couple of Slimfast Shakes for emergencies.

My legs have threatened to cramp in a few races this year. All hot races. Zero Sport Hydration Salts are an anti cramp formula of electrolyte tabs and magnesium. They're tasteless, so you can pop thme in water or your sports drink.

From the medical cabinet...I have been regularly using (not just when needs must!) the same sports therapist for the last couple of years. He advocates pre-race deep tissue massages and applying Deep Heat prior to long runs and races. These days people smell me before they see me. And if, heaven forbid, you're in the same car as me, as you'll be breathing out of your eyes! For pain relief I like Nurofen Express. Gaviscon double action for indigestion, Sudocream to prevent skin abrasion and Resolve Extra for stomach issues (and hangovers!).

My nearest and dearest know I'm quite fanatical about suncream. I think it's stupid and childish knowingly let yourself get burnt. Especially when you know how much your skin can take. After spending 18 years in desert climates, my skin has had enough abuse for one lifetime. These days, I've been know to put protection on my skin when's raining...just in case. Let's be honest, in Scotland the weather is pretty changeable. Anyway, Banana Boat Sport is fabulous. It's non-sticky and sinks in within seconds, so there's no mess. It's also waterproof and lasts all day.

Last but not least, my other favourite ultra-running things are Mark Johnston's evil speed sessions and Nathalie Jones' nutritional plans. And, of course, the Ambassador of Deep Heat's (AKA Jan Mieszkowski) deep tissue massage.

Anyway, I've been meaning to write this blog report/list for ages, so here it is. If anyone has done something or would like to do something similar, please let me know as I would like post a link.

Fried on the Clyde

2011-07-22T20:49:00.000+01:00

For me, there are four great things about the Clyde Stride 40: 1) It starts about two miles from my house 2) It starts at 9am, so I can get up at my usual 3) There's a drop-bag system - so no hassle with back-up - every 10 miles 4) And there are no uncomplicated, unnecessary race rules.

So after sussing out the course, I spent the days prior to the race checking out the forecast. After the unseasonably hot conditions of the Fling and the monsoon that was the WHW, I thought I deserved a break. The forecast was for no wind and light rain. Perfect.

The weather forecast lies. Fact. After some torrential downpours in the wee small hours, the clouds broke and the sun came out just in time for kick-off.

I arrived at race registration just after 8am. I had the joy of being allocated the number 69 (which was supposed to be 74), much to the amusement of bystanders. Mrs Mac (Race Director) had reallocated numbers to accommodate late entries the night before. I'm sure my number was computer generated, but Mrs Mac's joker-style response evoked my suspicion :-)

Participating in the race were lots of the usual suspects and even more new faces. Like me, there a few runners not-so-fresh from the WHWR. Nothing to moan about though, as the uber-awesome Lucy rolled up only days from her bronze medal at the IAU World Ultra Champs. Mmm I wonder if there are any other sports where the world champion's pre-race preparation involves darting across some waste ground - in the ghetto that is Partick - to pee behind a tree :-) Can't judge though, as I had to do the same thing four times. I'm not sure whether it's pre-race nerves or my pelvic floor not being what it used to be.

Mrs Mac gave out the race instructions and set us off. I'm going to guess there wasn't one person in the field who went off too fast. I reigned it in and settled into my usual plod. Ironically, focusing on not focusing on other runners. Even though my legs were tired, I still had to make a conscious effort to slow down. Not too slow though, as it's a flat road out to CP1 (Cambuslang) and I knew my pace would drop off for the off-road sections.

I was sauntering along through Glasgow Green, when I heard the remakes about "big-bottomed girls getting in the way" and knew the lovely John Kennedy was approaching. I ran (on and off) with John for the next 23 miles.

At the first checkpoint, I picked up a bottle of water and some tablet (which I actually ate). Mrs Mac was shouting "here comes 69", so I skooshed her with some water. Julie was on rubbish collecting duty and I skooshed her too - an innocent bystander - before I threw my bottle with a little more force than I thought I had - must be the new push-up app I'm using :-)

On to the next section, it was starting to heat up. The worse thing about running next to the river on a hot day is the beasties. I think I consumed my annual protein requirement in one morning. And I lost count of the the amount of times I had to pick things out of my eyes and ears.

After about 11 miles I could see the Gibbering Midget and I was closing the gap, which wasn't a good sign. The ITB had been playing up. Although she assured me she was doing ok, if guessed there was more to it. I pushed on before shouting a group of runners who had managed to go off course, even though there was a massive sign and they were actually running away from the river.

I ran in a group consisting of John, Bob, Richard and Bill for the next few miles. I made the innocent mistake of asking muscle-armed Bob if he works out. Cheesy I know, but I just wondered if it was down to being a farmer. Well, this gave John ammunition to mock for longer than my tolerance level would allow. He was nearly in the river :-)

Entering Strathclyde Park, Sonic was waiting with my drop-bag. I moved on quickly and then realised down the road, I'd forgotten what I actually wanted to pick. No worries though, as I wouldn't have eaten it anyway :-)

Heading through Strathclyde Park, I can safely say I was burst. I was hot and wilting. I just stuck my head down (it's easy to hide under a cap) and weakly waved at people cheering. Thanks to the kind cyclist who offered me a piece of his orange :-)

There are quite a few sets of steps on the course and First set of steps to climb were actually steaming. I kid you not. Thankfully there was intermittent cloud and tree cover for the rest of the day.

Crossing the field (why did I ever think this was mostly road?) I saw Bill jerking with cramp. I'm surprised it took him that long. For a skinny guy, he can fairly sweat. I could actually see the salt running out of him. Three relay runners came sauntering passed me. I felt a bit desperate asking them if they were in the relay, but you really couldn't tell who was relay and who was going to the full hog.

A short distance on and the great Richie C was resigned to walking and was throwing in the towel. I doubt it was because he's human like the rest of us - because we know he's not - but he's got bigger fish to fry this year.

I tried to eat some jelly babies, but was boking, so just tried to keep me fluids up.

I spent the next few miles watching Bob's back, disappearing through the tree-sheltered river trail. I was to overtake him at the next checkpoint, but I didn't see him when I did it, so always assumed he finished before me.

At Mauldslie bridge, the GM - who had also thrown in the towel - was waiting with Sonic and Cairn. I knew this was a B-race for her, so knew she wouldn't be too disappointed. She enthusiastically told me I was in second position. With relay runners flying about at the start and out of checkpoints, I never quite knew where I stood. Actually I didn't even believe it until Mrs Mac confirmed it at the end.

I felt pretty strong from then on in. Strangely the second half of the race was better than the first. Probably still slower and I had a fair few low points, but I didn't think anyone was going to pass me.

The route is fairly undulating (code for f-king hilly) after this. In wetter conditions, I'm sure it's pretty muddy and slippy too. With 9/10 miles to go, I passed another runner and my calves started to play up. I knew I was losing a lot of salt, as I could feel and see it on my skin. Thankfully my calves didn't full-out cramp. They just spasmed and tightened. Even so I couldn't risk changing my stride and proceeded to run up all the inclines.

I passed one of the relay runners that had passed me. She was doing a double section and from what she mentioned I think the doubler was more through necessity rather than being planned.

From there on I started to count down the miles. I was over it. It was such a relief to get to Muirkirkbank (2.5 miles to go!), although the journey to the otherside of the town was a whole lot longer than I expected. Back on the trail and up the final nasty hill. I was so glad that I was anal enough to finish off this section the week before, as I knew to look foward to the downhill bit.

On the descent, the lovely Jamie Aarons was out for a jog. She kindly asked if I wanted company for a bit and it was like music to my ears. We ran and chatted (although I think I just puffed!) and she left me to it at the last staircase. I knew the sub:6 hours was on, but I had to work hard. And I did. I gave it everything that was left in me. Granted that wasn't much, but it did the job.

I finished - and then lay sparked out on the grass - in 5:56. 2nd girl and 15th overall.

Well done to everyone who finished. When you look at the profile, it's cheekier than you think.

Guys results:
Paul Raistrick 4:44:44
Grant Jeans 4:53:47 2
Gavin Harvie 5:14:49 3

The relatively unknown (not anymore!) Paul took hot-favourite Grant Jeans to set a new course record.

Bob - do you think he works out?

Ladies results
Lucy Colquhoun 5:18:00 (5th)
Debbie Martin-Consani 5:56:55 (15th)
Judith Dobson 6:16:56 (19th)

Our champion, Lucy. Weighing in at 55lbs :-) I need to lay off the Mrs Tilly fudge

Thanks to everyone who put up with me on the day - especially John Kennedy. Although he "doesn't read blogs", so maybe I should get him back for his frequent jibes about the size of my butt :-) To Sonic and Cairn for patching me up and being my incentive to move my big butt to the next checkpoint. To all the fabulous stewards. Thanks to Davie, Karin and Suse for the pictures. And special thanks to Mrs Mac for putting on a great show. Although it is wrong to confess that I was slightly disappointed to see how well the course was marked? :-)

Clyde Stride recce

2011-07-11T08:35:00.003+01:00

I signed myself up for the Clyde Stride (40 miles) this weekend. I doubt there's anyone out there who doesn't think this is a silly idea. Well, apart from Race Director, Mrs MacPirate.

To be honest, when I was doing half-arsed job of helping out and an even more half-arsed job of support - let's just say I was there! - at the race last year, I didn't think it was my cup of tea. Too flat. Too much road. And I'm just too lazy to run non-stop for that long.

Now that I covered most of the route, I take it all back. Once to get out of Glasgow (Shock! Horror!) it's actually really nice.

(The race starts in Glasgow and follows the Clyde walkway to New Lanark)

Call me unadventurous, but if the race is within ample travelling distance from your doorstep, it's worth the effort to move a few training runs. Like I did before the River Ayr Way Race last year, I like to cover the course before the race because:

1) In ultra-distance races - especially off-road - I believe the runner is responsible for their own navigation. There's only so much organisers and stewards can do to keep you on track. If you need someone to hold your hand round every corner, then best stick with the ParkRun. If you get lost, you've only got yourself to blame.

2) I'm not one for surprises. I like to know where I'm going and "see" the course before race. It's good to know where the nasty and nice bits are. I understand this is personal and lots of runners like to experience something new on the day.

3) Logistical errors add to the stress and in some cases can even ruin a race. How many navigational-fuelled tantrums have you seen on a course? Jeez, I've seen a few dummies spat on a 10K road race!

4) I can leave the maps behind and just concentrate on running and enjoying the race.

So, I split the course up in four training run chunks. All have their own little dramas. I've gone wrong in all them. When I retraced my steps and got back on course, I've always wonder how I managed to go off in the first place. Silly errors. You understand my recce requirements now?

The first run was to Cambuslang, which involved a detour around the Commonwealth games athletes village. Getting lost in Parkhead was not ranked high on my list of extreme adventures - but I did. I think I may have taken the longest way, but I got there in the end. Diversion signs are brilliant, until they just stop.

Second was Cambuslang to Bothwell Bridge, when I managed to veer off within about half a mile. I clutched the route description and map and followed it to the tee. When you're by yourself, you never quite know if you're going the right way. Thankfully with the river by my side, I knew you couldn't be that far off. But was it the right river? After circling a woodland area, I found the next section passed the David Livingstone bridge. I was approaching a nice couple out walking their dog and stopped to confirm I was on the right trail. The chap starting giving the "quickest way" direction until I cottoned on to the fact, he was sending me along the expressway. Quickest way indeed, but I took my chances with my instincts. And I was right. Although I did have to ignore the keep-out/danger signs and sneak through the scaffolding holding up a bridge. At Bothwell Bridge I took a wrong turn and followed the cycle route signposted to Strathclyde park. Huge mistake. After a mile or so, I realised the mistake and just about turned to the nearest train station. Lessons learnt.

Next run was Blantyre to Muirkirkbank and then on to Lanark Train Station. This time I had the GM for company. Two non-map readers are better than one. It was a scourching morning we when arrived at Patrick Train Station at 7am. As we approached the station, a group of young lads were exiting. Obviously the spill out from the night before. I would say they were about 13-years-old, but as Glasgow males are generally below average height, they were probably about 25. One turned to the GM and said: "nice shorts, hen" and then rendered her silent with "they'd look better on my floor!". Brilliant!

The run was great, but it was always going to be tall order two weeks after the WHWR. Navigationally (I'm not sure that's a real word), it was pretty uneventful. A few brief pauses to check maps.

Once passed Strathclyde Park, there are lots of Clyde Walkway signs, but they're in the most obvious places, where you couldn't possibly go anywhere else!

(picture pinched from google images)

I'd sold this run to the GM on the basis that it would be about 18miles (ish). 20 max. So when we were still running through woodlands at 19 miles, with no signs of exiting, I could feel the eyes burning in the back of my head. Her knees were playing up and she'd lost the will to live. Or at least she'd lost the will for me to live. Once through Muirkirkbank we asked a chap for directions to the train station. When asked if it was far, he paused and said: "eh, about three....(F**k I'm in trouble)...quarters of a mile". Phew!

I know I'm anal, but last week I went out to do the last few miles to cover the route. It should have been a two miles out and back (four in total) but I took a few dizzy turns and then couldn't find the finish. I could see it, I just couldn't get to it. After passing the same builders three times, I caved and phoned Mrs MacPirate. I'm glad she saw the funny side. And at least it's one less lost runner on Saturday. Although I won't recommend that anyone follows me.

So, it's taper week again. Good luck to everyone running on Saturday. I've just seen a picture on Facebook of Mrs MacPirate out vandalising the countryside, so it should be well marked.

The Dream Nineteen

2011-06-29T22:14:00.006+01:00

I really wanted a sub:20 hour West Highland Way Race. Strange to think that when I first attempted this crazy race in 2008, all I wanted to do was break 24. This year's training and build-up races (if you can call a 100K road race and the Highland Fling build-up races) had gone well and I was fired-up and mentally ready for it.

When it comes to ultra-running, I think you’ve got to rely on a large dollop of luck and factors that are out with your control. And thankfully lady luck was on my side. I started feeling fit and injury free, the conditions suited me perfectly (apart from a few brief interludes) and my long-suffering crew were the best. The ingredients for the perfect race recipe. My race was less than perfect, but it ranks highly on my all-time favourites. I’ll TRY to keep it brief, as I realise I’m a bit late in the day to come at this. Jeez, the ladies winner has already completed three races since last weekend, but we know Kate the Great is part machine.

This was the fourth time than I’d experience the bustle of Milngavie at 1am. First time as a 30+hour completer, once on support duty and last year finishing in 20 hours. I’d like to think I’ve seen the race from a few perspectives. Regardless of how many times you see the start, it’s still quite overwhelming. I liken it to watching someone give birth on TV. It all comes flooding back.

The lovely Alison B and George were my back-up for the nightshift. After registration, weigh-in and race instructions the countdown began.

I started off slower than slow. Quite uncomfortably slow. I ran with Bob Steel (who had to finish the race to get back home to milk his cows at 4am) and Donnie Campbell (who was running an additional 90 miles to Skye to raise money for a local hospice). I felt like a total lightweight.

The field starts to split up pretty quickly, into pockets of runners. Focussing on footwork which is navigated by torchlight means the miles tick by and I was at Beech Trees in no time. The whispering cheers (now that’s an oxymoron) of support crews is always quite comical. Although I doubt the local residents get any sleep with the pitter-patter of hundreds of feet, torches and car doors and gates slamming shut anyway.

On to the narrow track to Drymen, I lead a group of headtorches. No faces, just torches. The front runner always get the raw deal, as the gates are hard work. No one took the hint when I was running on the grass verge to allow people to pass. No problem, but an acknowledgment or a thank-you for holding the gates wouldn’t have gone a miss. My two-year-old has better manners!

Getting to Drymen is like a vampire movie. When the sun comes up everything is calmer and more rational. Leaving Drymen I caught up with Richard Gilbraith. Fresh (or not-so-fresh as it turned out) from his amazing performance at the Marathon de Sables. It was nice to chat for a while, as I’m starting to soften to the idea of taking on this classic race...someday a long time away!

I’ll spare you the graphics, but my stomach had been playing up from the word go and a few miles from Drymen the emergency stops started. And pretty much continued until about 70 miles into the race.

The carpark at Balmaha (19 miles) was as crazy-busy as Milngavie. My plan was to drop off and pick up as quickly as possible at all checkpoints. George is super-slick on support. He’s quite literally all over. Amazingly committed and enthusiastic. He ran out to meet me, guided me to the car, spun my around refilled my supplies and sent me on my way. I’d asked for some Resolve to help settle my stomach. He cleaned out sports drink bottle, mixed it out, drove along the lochside and ran back to give it to me.

I played leap frog with Bob and chatted with Marc Casey for most of the way to Rowardennan. Looking back now, apart from a few more emergency stops, this section was pretty uneventful.

Into Rowardennan (27 miles), I saw Jamie sitting down next to her support team. Her ankle had let her down and she was calling it a day. She still flashed her All-American smile and shouted encouragementI changed into new trail shoes. I knew the course would be really wet and mucky up until that point and the next few (long!) sections would be drier. I was basically trying to keep my feet dry for as long as possible. Probably not the best idea to change into shoes I’d quite literally bought a few hours before the race. Thankfully I’ve never had any problems with new shoes. And they were a carbon copy of the ones I was taking off.

From Rowardennan, I stayed in third position, with the Gibbering Midget in second and Kate Jenkins in first.

I took a sandwich and sweets and hugged my crew. It would be a long time before I saw them again. I hooked up with Ross - who had to apologise for hurling abuse at me after initially mistaking me for the GM – and ran with him for the next 5/6 miles. After an hour of clasping a dough ball sandwich, I gave up and threw it for the birds. We later caught up with Andy, who like Ross was settling unfinished business from 2010. After a bit of chatting they discovered the reason they DNFd last year, was because they were racing each other into Bridge or Orchy and completely blew up. They mentioned they both just wanted sub-24. When I told them I was looking for sub:20 hours and they’d smash their expectations, they dropped back a bit.

Into Inversnaid, the lovely lady from the Trossachs’ Search and Rescue Team replenished my baby wipes supply. Thank heavens. It was like déjà vu catching JK. On his backside. Eating. James Quigley – and now fellow Garscubian - was there too. I picked up some supplies as quickly as possible to escape the midges, and headed out with JK. Passing JK on the lochside is becoming a bit of a habit. It would have been nice to run with him for longer, but he was starting his own battle. He went on to finish his fifth race, but not without a fight.

I really like the Lochside section and it was good to run with Graham for a while. WHW supremo George Cairns was his support for the day and his wife (Graham’s wife that is) was giving him leg massages at checkpoints. I felt a bit cheated :-)

Beinglas Farm (41 miles) – or Stargate as I call it – was quieter this year, as there was a drop bag operation in place to discourage support vehicles. It was lovely to see Ian B there and even nicer that he helped with my supplies, as my hands were no longer working. I took another sandwich – which again was fed to the birds - and headed up the hill with Dale and Drew, passing a less than cheery looking Mike R on the way.

This section is always a lot harder than it looks, but it was a comfort to know that I would see my crew again soon. And with the new additions Kas, Jill and Emma who were taking over from Alison and George.

Heading towards Coo-poo junction Kevin caught up with me. I was to see a lot of Kevin for the next 50 miles! It was Kevin’s 5th (and final, according to Mrs Kevin) attempt at the race, so I was glad to see 50 miles worth of him.

I then caught up with John (with the Geordie accent) and ran with him for a couple of miles. He had to call it a day last year, because of a stress fracture. I lost him on the descents. I was later to discover his knees were given him jip and caused him to slower considerable from there on in. He finished nonetheless.

Heading towards Auchtertyre Farm (50 miles), the long-awaited support point, I saw Big John (nobody knows why his name is affixed with “big”) from Sonic’s support sitting on a gate. Similar to the position I saw him in at the finish of the Fling, except this time he wasn’t shouting only a few hundred metres to go. I asked how Sonic was doing to which he wrinkled his nose and shook his head. I wasn’t long before I saw Sonic off the course all layered-up.

Readers of Sonic’s blog will know that it was a bit touch and go for him. Injury and a series of knock-on-effect injuries had him side-lined for a few weeks. He had barely run a step this month. The race was hugely important to him, but I’m sure not whether I thought it was brave or silly to start. Starting a 95 miles injured or not being 100% fit and focussed is a bit like drink driving. You might get away with for a bit and maybe even have fun, but you will soon be caught out. It was his first DNF, so I knew it would be hard decision for him. I was glad to hear, that at 48 miles, he’d called time (…before his wife caught him!)

I saw Emma as I approached Auchtertyre and it took me while to focus on what was on her T-shirt. This was the best surprise EVER. I could have cried when I saw them all. I gave me a right giggle and a much-needed boost.

I said my farewells to George and Alison – and probably didn’t thank them enough – and headed on the 2/3 mile “nasty section” to Tyndrum where I was planning on stopping for a proper supply top-up. It was no surprise that I was struggling to take on food. Kas had gone for a run, leaving Emma and Jill trying to force feed me and threatening the wrath of Kas. Even that didn’t work. Although Kas has a heart of gold, she’s got a tongue that makes me look like Hannah Montana.

I can’t even remember what I took, but I’m pretty sure I didn’t eat it. There were a couple of runners behind me, including Kevin. I was hoping he would soon pass me as I was in need of a comfort break. He must have thought my rubber necking was my competitive streak. The gap wasn’t closing, so I had to try to be as discreet as possible and hoped he too was starting to suffer from blurry vision. I doubt it was discreet at all.

Passing over the railway bridge I meet Gail and Steven coming in the opposite direction. It was so lovely to see them I stopped to chat for a minute and let Kevin soldier on.

On to Bridge of Orchy (60 miles) I checked in with Sean Lord-of-the Bridge and picked up a bottle of something and maybe some sweets. Who knows? The conditions were fairly mild, although wet and Sean has warned me that the hills and Moor would be cold and to take a jacket. I told him the gals were meeting me at Victoria Bridge and disappeared before he could make me change that decision.

The lovely Murdo was waiting at the top of the Orchy Hills with his old faithfully saltire, supply of jelly babies and never-ending smile.

The descent into Inveroran was fairly tricky. Not just because the rocks were wet, but I couldn’t get my eyes to focus properly. I ran with Dale on the road round to Victoria Bridge car-park. This bit is probably my least favourite bit on the whole course. And from the look on Dale’s face I guess he was thinking the same. Either that or his inability to shake me off was his least favourite part! My money’s on the latter.

Emma had come along to the corner to ask what I wanted in my bottle belt. It was pouring with rain and she ran back along with her hood up, zig-zagging across the road as a van was trying to pass. I nearly fainted trying to shout at her, but she couldn’t hear a thing. I’m not sure if she knows how close she was to being squashed.

On arrival, Kas was being her usually sympathetic self and cursing, shrieking and threatening blue murder if I didn’t eat. Her no bullshit approach to support is just what I need. I took some of her homemade banana cake and walked along whilst Emma tried to detangle the headphones for my ipod. I chuckled when Emma whispered: “Jill and I ate your sandwiches, so Kas wouldn’t shout at you”. You gotta love it. The banana cake was going down quite well to which I said: “Don’t tell Kas, but this is actually quite nice”. As we giggled, you could hear the shrieks in the background “Has she thrown that away? Has seen thrown that away?” That was my cue to get my butt moving and get out of there.

I really enjoyed the Rannoch Mor section. Nine hilly miles of vast exposure is not really the best on a driech day, but I’d added a new playlist to my ipod which put a spring in my step. Again, playing leapfrog with Kevin and Dale. Graham was not too far in front either.

Looking back, this was probably one of my favourite sections. Prior to race day, I hoped and prayed for no sun and I really got my wish. I’m not one for running with a jacket on, but I wore mine for the last 35 miles. I actually love running in the rain, so the conditions suited me. This was to be the calm before the storm. The descent into the ski centre (71 miles) was pretty jerky as my toes were bashed to bits. Flat were ok, but the downhills squashed them to bits. New shoes were no problem. Putting lock laces into the new shoes was a big mistake. They allowed too much movement. I think it would have worked OK if my feet were drier. Oh well, we live and learn. I just wish I hadn’t learnt this on race day.

Summer in Glencoe...

After Sonic’s retirement, my crew had now become equipped with some Walkie Talkies. Emma met me at the corner of the detour of the ski centre checkpoint and signalled to Jill and Kas that I was looking for 1) banana smoothie 2) babywipes 3) banana cake. Brilliant, eh? Until Emma came bounding across with only a slimfast shake :-)

My plan was to carry nothing and pick up some supplies at the bottom of the Devil’s Staircase. The four miles there were pretty uneventful, but I felt like I had 70 odd miles in my legs.

Jill with Babywipes: I think I might have made a bit of a drama about this :-)

I thought Jill had come along to meet me, but really it was to warn me that Kas was on the warpath. On arrival I was instructed to “stand there and not move until you’ve eaten this sandwich”. I wish there was a video of me running along Altnafeadh with Kas chasing me. I can still hear Emma and Jill laughing. Thankfully I wasn’t caught chucking the food to the birds, although I’m sure I could hear Kas shouting for some time.

(Kas on the chase!)

If I thought the ascent was tough work, the descent was even worse. I can safety say, this was my only real “struggle point”. But I wasn’t alone on this one, so I won’t moan. The path had turned into a river and I had no confidence as to where my feet were landing so was resigned to doing some ridiculous hopping and jerking action. I wanted to run, but I would have been better off walking. My feet were slipping about in the shoes so much and regardless of the amount of times I tighten the locks, the elastic laces allowed too much movement.

As I gingerly pussyfooted my way down into Kinlochleven, Kevin came passed and asked how far away it was. When I informed him it was about two miles, he had a mild tantrum about being able to see to the town. I felt the need to apologise, but it was still two miles away

I was bit grumpy on arrival at Kinlochleven and I managed to nearly strangle myself with tangled earphones. I think I must go into some kind of trance/tunnel/state of shock, as I don’t really remember being there. Although I remember I nearly left without anything and then repeatedly asked for my rucksack - which sent my crew in a frenzy – when really I wanted the bottle belt I’d left on the table. Oops!

On my way into Kinlochleven, Adam was on his way out getting stuck into a bag of chips - only in ultra-running. I caught up with him on the hill out of the town.

I’d spent most of the day catching up with guys that the Gibbering Midget has left in her wake. Some of their comments were quite comical. Adam summed it up quite nicely when he described her as “awesome and just keeps going” and “in the midst of all this awesomeness, just talks non-stop”. Although Adam got dealt another short-straw, as I asked him about million questions across Lairig Mor. I did say I wasn’t being nosey, just taking the focus off the situation.

I’d like to think I kept Adam going, but I think he was more hell-bent on not letting another girl beat him. He echoed me step for step. I ran. He ran. I walked. He walked. I didn’t even attempt to shake him off. It was actually quite nice to have some company for the final leg. And the fact that he was more gubbed than me perked me up a bit. Sorry, Adam!

Lairig Mor was long, but I was in better shape than I was last year when my ankles felt like I’d done a round with Kathy Bates. This year, my body was ok, but my fuelling was letting me down. I probably took on 2000 calories max and that was mostly sports drink and coke.

I stopped at Lundarva to change my socks and put on my road shoes. I’ve done this on a few races, so thought this was a good plan. Bad move as it wasted time and made my feet feel worse, as the socks were tight round my toes. Plus, Adam thought he was making a sly get away. Wrong! I caught up with him within half a mile.

I really enjoyed the woodland area all the way to the track. I could see two runners in front (Kevin and Mark Caldwell), but I didn’t have the inclination to care. I was just happy doing my own thing and working through it.

Starting on the track on the descent to Fort William, was like trying to wind up and old clock. There were various involuntary sounds and then I eased off and I was on the home straight. I focussed on staying positive and took the advice from Andy Cole and used the time to reflect on what I have achieved.
(Photo by Colin Knox)
Adam and I barely muttered a word of the next couple of miles. It should have been uncomfortably silent, but neither of us cared. Just before the beautiful sight that is the Braveheart Carpark, Emma was on the track full of excitement. She disappeared with the walkie-talkie shouting: “Right, girls, we’re bringing our runner back to the Mothership for a massive PB”.

Hitting the pavement for the final stretch was amazing. Especially when it was only 8.30pm! My gals passed in the car like a mobile hen do - complete with matching tshirts - screaming, cheering, honking horns and flying flags.

I was willing the 30mph sign to appear, mainly because Adam kept asking me how far to go :-) Some walkers were coming towards us in the opposite direction forcing me to jump on and off the pavement, which seemed a little cruel. As we rounded the bend I could hear and see the mini gathering outside the pub. I practically ran across the roundabout and along the road. Sonic’s crew were on the left and my crew on the right. I think I was smiling from ear to ear, but I’m not sure my facial muscles still worked.

Finished in 19.39:57. 3rd gal and 13th overall.

I may look totally shocked, but I was ecstatic. I’m now on the list of girls who’ve run sub: 20 hours.

I said I would try to keep it brief. I lied. If you’re still with me, thanks for reading. I’m glad I wrote this down now, but does anyone else get emotional writing race reports? Jeezo, I’m getting soft in my old age.

I don’t even know where to start with my thank you bit. First things first: My crew. Again, you were truly amazing...and so entertaining :-) Sonic and Team Sonic for chipping in at the end. The organisers, stewards, race officials, medics, search and rescue teams without them the race wouldn’t exist. It’s not like a 10K when you volunteer for a couple of hours. This is a full weekend’s commitment.

Congratulations to everyone who finished and who put up with me. Well done to the champions who put up a brave fight and those that were sensible anough to postpone their success for another year.

Some great performance from Richie (his second, well-deserved, win), Thomas (the diva moments were worth the huge PB), Kate (7th win. Yes, 7th) and the GM (who put the shitters up Kate to finish in an AMAZING time of 9hr 11) Click here for full results

The GM (2nd), Kate (1st) and Me (3rd)

I may have suggested I’m not doing the race again. Not because I didn’t enjoy it, because I loved it. I’m just not sure I can better it. Anyway, I’ve forgotten about that announcement already. Same time next year, folks?

Western States 100 video

2011-06-09T20:14:00.000+01:00

I stole this from Dan Doherty's blog. Great viewing.

Taper time (again!)

2011-06-03T08:59:00.003+01:00

Last weekend saw the start of the three week taper. And the end of the bargain Citylink bus tickets. Being from a rival newspaper, it pains me to say the Daily Record struck gold with their £2 ticket deal.

Saturday, the GM and I finished the last piece of the WHW puzzle, by running from Kingshouse to Fort William. We drove up to Kingshouse, ran the 23.5 miles to Fort William and got the bus back. Simples? Not quite.

I don't want to wibber on about the weather (again!) but anyone who's been on the Scottish hills, knows it can make or break your day. On Saturday, it did both. Intermittent is a good word to describe it. Flipping from icy cold rain to glorious sunshine. But always with a strong head wind. Character building I'd say.

When we left Kingshouse, the driving rain would strip the fake tan off you ;-) There were lots of walkers huddled waiting to embark on their day's trek. All goretex up. You should have seen their faces when the GM rolled up in her signature pants and socks. One mile down the road - whilst being stoned to death by hail - We stopped to layer up. Then continued to run while shielding our faces, which were being battered from the left. By the time we'd reached the Devil Staircase (only a few miles away) the sun had come out and we were sheltered from the wind... and guess what?...we were nearly fainting in the heat. Only in Scotland, eh? Layers off and we settled into the run from there.

(Overlooking Kinlochleven. I really need to work on my photo posing)

After I got over the initial shock, I really enoughed the day. Sometimes, you've just got to put your head down and get on with it. The day zipped passed and we were at Lundarva in no time (well, actually, lots of time!) and in need for a full-fat Coke break.

Every run needs a bit of drama and this is when the GM lost the clip for her one-strap rucksack. After some searching we were resigned to fixing it with my hair band. I did remind her that she wouldn't have that kind of back-up if she'd chosen to run with that big guy again :-)

I really enjoy the woodland sections above Fort William (only on fresh legs, of course) so it was a bit of a shock stepping into a vast open space where all the trees had been cleared. I had seen Richie's pictures, but I couldn't work out where it was. No wonder. It looks completely different and very surreal. Quite sad too.

There were lots of walkers out on the Way that day. Mostly walking in the "wrong direction". You could tell it was panic training for the Caledonian Challenge. I felt like an air steward for most of the day. Good morning. Hello. Good morning. Hello. I'm glad the Caledonian Challenge is on a different day from the WHWR now. I loose social skills around 50 miles. Just ask my support team.

This was the first time this year that I'd actually run into Fort William. And it's hard to believe the next time I'll be doing it,is at the end of the race in two weeks time.

We ran straight on to Morrisons. Eager to get changed and pick up some supplies for the bus. I've decided I'm going to rename the ladies toilets in Morrisons to the Hall of Horrors. I don't think I've look at a mirror in there and not got the shock of my life.

We'd timed it quite nicely for the bus. And no Glasgow-bound Citylink bus trip would be complete without a couple of vocal chaps with Tennants tinnies. Whilst passing the mighty Munros one commented that it would be "great to get up there with a massive cargo" (that's a large supply of alcohol to non-natives). During a mobile phone conversation the other summed up the day's condition quite nicely by saying "...it was nice. Then it was shite. Then it was nice. Then it was shite". I wish the BBC would offer up this kind of straight-up weather forecast in future.

We got off the bus at Kingshouse into another hail storm. The GM started to run towards the car and I followed suit - mainly because I had the car keys. The vocal chaps on the bus must have got the last laugh watching me trying to run down the hill in full waterproofs, stiff legs and swinging a Morrisons poly bag with eight cans of Pepsi Max and that day's paper. You can't buy class.

It was a huge relief to get into the car and leave the storm behind. Even more so to get the heating on full and start heading home. The GM was certainly enjoying the comfort and sunk back and said: "couldn't you just go for a wee nap?" To which I had to reply: "Not really, sweetie. I'm driving"

Good thinking, citylinking

2011-05-28T07:03:00.001+01:00

As the month of May is nearly behind us, this is a quick summary...

I was fairly pleased at how quickly I recovered from the Fling. I even managed a PB at the Women's 10K the weekend after and finished 119th out of over 10,000 finishers. Which probably says more about the runners (eh, walkers) than my athletic ability. I agree that is wasn't the best recovery strategy, but the race is really special to me. It's the reason I started running in the first place. My ninth in a row, so I would have crawled round on my hands and knees if required. Thankfully there was still a little bit of zip in the ol' pins. And that's my annual 10K over with for another year. Way too much like hard work for me.

The piece de resistence of West Highland Way training was centred around a two-day run, covering the 72 miles (of the 95 route) to Kingshouse. Milngavie to Beinglas on the Wednesday (41 miles) and Beinglas to Kingshouse (31) on Thursday. Sometimes the logistics of a point-to-point routes are more taxing than the actually running itself. This year I booked good ol' Citylink bus back each day, which worked out brilliantly. The downside is being restricted to specific timing as the Citylink service is a pretty irregular service - from Kingshouse there was a bus at 2.30pm and 7.30pm - and standing about chittering waiting on a non-punctual bus service.

Originally I planned the week off work, but a major project launch put a swift kick to that. I try to be as disciplined as possible when it comes to training (when the body's willing) so I just had to work round it. Which meant five days off became two, I had to carry two phones, stop for regular email/phone breaks and work in the evening. But hey ho, it meant I could get out on a trails for two days, so it was worth it.

The Gibbering Midget had also taken two days off. I train so much on my own these days, that it really makes you appreciate some buddy support. The miles always tick by. Plus, we pretty much done all our long together, so we're in sync. There's the unspoken way we know when to pick up the pace, knock it back, walk the hills and start again. And regardless of how many times we tell each other we're going to take it easy, it's always eyeballs and elbows out for the last mile.

Both days just flew in and were really enjoyable. The weather could have been kinder, but it could have been a whole lot worse. In true Scottish style, we were hit with all conditions. Head down driving rain and wow-wee-check-out-the-view blue skies. Unfortunately our feet were sodding wet for most of it. I think my feet practically came off with my socks. Oh well, my summer sandals have been redundant for a few years now.

The plus-side was my legs felt fairly good at the end of it all. Much better than they were after the two days last year. I was kinda wishing we could have done the final sections on the Friday. But when I was watching the hail stones pelt off the streets from the comfort of my office, I got over that quite quickly.

The glorious weather continued into the club's annual training weekend at the Trossach's Tryst in Callander. This year Coach Lesley joined us, so there was more training and less partying involved. As I'd done my longs on Wednesday and Thursday and Sonic was running on Friday and Saturday (see what I mean about having to be disciplined), I intended on doing a few leisurely jogs, but mostly spending some QT with my boy. Last year the weather was glorious - actually too hot - and we went on nice walks, ate ice-cream, went to the park and splashed about in the Loch. This year we had bouncing rain, so we were pretty much housebound and stuck watching reruns of Toy Story. My three mile run on Saturday evening turned into seven miles, in a vain attempt to ward off the cabin fever.

On Sunday morning I ran the 12 miles from Callander to Aberfoyle on the number seven cycle track. About five miles of it is all up hill, but it's worth the puff as it's a glorious route. Lots of wow-wee moments. The terrain is just perfect to consistent running and working hard. And as I'd started early I had the place to myself. The other guys started later and went in the opposite direction. I think I took the easier option :-) At least I had a warm-up

Anyway, now I'm off to meet the GM to run from Kingshouse to Fort William. Last piece of the puzzle.

The from-the-horses-mouth version.

2011-05-06T08:37:00.004+01:00

Last week, I felt rough. Really rough. I was almost tempted to throw a sickie for the first time in my 11 career in newspapers. Apparently this is a good thing when you're tapering, but I'm not sure why. Thankfully on Friday I had a day to rest and chill out in front of the TV to watch the Royal Wedding. This banner - spotted in the crowd - was quite apt. I think it's safe to say that when two names: Kate Jenkins or Lucy Colquhoun appear on a starting list, it's a given who is going to win. Even fresh from a ridiculously swift time at the London Marathon a couple of weeks ago, Kate was still on top form.

I was pretty nervous before the race. I'm not sure why as, like many others think, the race is more of a means to an end. A tuner for the West Highland Way race in June.

The day was forecast to be unseasonably hot and unfortunately it didn't disappoint. Thankfully the gals and the ol' boys are allocated the 6am kick-off spot. The early rise was a small sacrifice for starting in cooler conditions.

As per my previous post, I was following splits devised by Sonic. My aim was to focus on the pace for the first section (12 miles to Drymen) and then just wing it from there - in the hope that I wouldn't burst too early.

So when the gun went off (or maybe someone shouted ready-steady-go, I don't remember) I tried to zone out and keep a steady/slow average pace. Last year, in all ultras, I got too worked up about who was around me. I continuously reminded myself that I can only control my outcome, not the outcome of others (I'll save my bedtime reading for another post). It wasn't quite a mantra, just something I kept at the forefront of my mind.

En route to Drymen - on a fresh, dewy morning - I chatted to quite a few runners: JK, Jane (who had also run the 100K last month), Elaine, Helen, Ian, Malcolm and John Kennedy - who in the photo below has just commented on my big butt :-)

I think I might have been 11th gal (or thereabouts) at Drymen, but still bursting with energy. OK, I was a minute ahead of schedule, but that wasn't a big drama. Ssshh don't tell Sonic, but I had to faff about in the last mile to slow down my average pace :-)

I headed out of Drymen with Jane, Helen and John Kennedy and eventually caught up with the Gibbering Midget, who looked like she'd lost heart. It's a long way too go if you don't have the drive and have been dealing with illness for the previous month. The group split up and I stomped up Conic Hill and took it easy on the descent. Later in the day, I head the GM had taken a tumble and that was the final straw. Sonic and Cairn (who I hadn't even seen that morning) were waiting at the bottom. I picked up a few supplies and moved on swiftly.

The section from Balmaha to Rowardennan was really tough for me last year, courtesy of the overzealous. This year, I really enjoyed it and picked off a few runners in the process, who I guess were cursing their overzealous start.

I meet Sonic and Cairn about a mile from Rowardennan. Sonic had informed me that JK was about 20 seconds in front of me. But later JK informed me that Sonic had told him I was 5/10 minutes behind. I think somewhere in the middle lies the truth :-)Anyway when I arrived in Rowardennan, JK was perched up on a rock enjoying a snack. In his blog, JK mentioned that I barked at him for sitting about having a picnic, but I kid you not, he was lounging about like Huckleberry Finn.

I picked-up, topped-up and moved on up. You get the drift here. I'd rather walk, than stop at checkpoints. Within minutes JK and Claire has caught up and it was nice to run and chat with them for about five miles. Claire - who is a hardcore Ironman - was running her first ultra, just weeks from finishing London in 3:03. With a 10K PB of 35, she's certainly no fairy. Like JK, she was also from Liverpool. Also an Everton fan. And also teetotal. I know, the world's only teetotal Scousers. Who would have thought :-)

Although it's notoriously tough and fairly technical, the lochside is my favourite section. I like all the skipping and hopping. It wasn't a conscious effort to push on but I left Claire and JK about a mile before Inversnaid. To be honest, I thought they weren't far behind and would catch up. I passed another girl before arriving in Inversnaid.

You got it, I was in an out in a flash and overtook another two guys within the first mile. More hopping and climbing and I reached the top of the loch unscathed. There were a lot of walkers and I got lots of cheers and claps, which really perked me up. On the hill up towards Dario's post, the air was so still and the heat was quite overpowering. I said a wee hello to our absent friend and then - as if by magic - a lovely cool breeze enveloped me.

Heading towards the fence before Beinglas is when the first vet male runner (on the 7am start time) passed me. Given the rate he was going at and where he passed me, he might have been better in the elite male start at 8am.

At this point, my quads were starting to spasm. I've never really suffered from cramp before, until my calves did the same thing in the 100K. I wasn't really sweating, but I knew my face was in danger of exploding. I go a rare shade of purple when I overheat.

I took the steep descent into Beinglas Farm fairly easy as cramping quads is not something I ever want to experience.

Sonic wasn't on support duty for the day (the drop bag system is too slick not to use) but I'd asked him to be in Beinglas, as I'd packed for all eventualities. As I was running towards the checkpoint, I could hear rapidly approaching footsteps behind and knew instinctively that they belonged to Sonic. He picked up my bag and tried to undo the knot - slowly! After I spat the dummy, a Marshall came over and grabbed it off him to control public domestic. Later I did apologise to Sonic for my outburst, although I've since remembered he nearly took my out throwing his bumbag at me at the D33. Mmmm. I suppose the key to support is to take things with a pinch of salt.

I wasn't really sure of position until it was confirmed as I left Beinglas that I was second place.

I still felt good, but I was (surprise, surprise!) struggling to eat. I was, however, drinking a shed load of Lucozade and Coke. But as the section started to get hotter, all wanted was water. And the mix of gas and sugar was having an unladylike effect on my stomach. I'll spare you the graphics, as you know I don't do toilet chat, but there was quite a few emergency stops.

The lead runner, Andrew James, passed me on the steep hill just before Carmyle Cottage. I was doubled-over and watching in awe as he literally bounded up the hill. He was certainly a man on a mission. And his mission, in the form of record-holder Jez Bragg, followed in close suit. The men's race was always going to be exciting, but I would have expected to see "Our Jez" in pole position by then.

On the way up to Crianlarich I had a great view of the chase. But I also had a great view to see if someone was chasing me. I wasn't really concerned about my finishing time, just maintaining my position. And with the WHWR only seven weeks away, I couldn't afford to be buckled.

Although I played a better race card, it certainly wasn't perfect. When you factor in a 100K race, a toasty day and a dollop of complacency, I took too many breaks (and emergency stops!) in the last section. I suppose in hindsight you can always work harder, can't you? But I'm glad I didn't rip the ass out of it, as I've been back training no problem this week. Actually on Sunday I spent the day gardening and dismantling a kitchen.

Given the dry conditions, I was amazed at the number of runners who finished with bloody knees and elbows. Is there anyone who didn't fall? The worst I saw was Rosie Bell, who practically took her kneecap off very early on in the race. Given that I can barely walk along with street without falling over these days, I was amazed I stayed upright until Crianlarich. I'm now black and blue, but I must have been so wasted that I didn't feel at thing. Maybe it was the shock of falling hands-first, elbow-deep in a large puddle of cow piss!!

One day: Four medals. A finisher medal, silver for both the UKA and Scottish Ultra Champs and bronze for the club. All in a day's work.

Allen Smalls (3rd), Andrew James (1st) Jez Bragg (2nd)

Thanks to Murdo and crew, Sonic and Cairn, the amazing stewards, everyone who put up with me on the day and the pictures (pinched from Davie, Muriel and Jude)

The Scottish Athletics version

2011-05-03T16:33:00.002+01:00

MONTANE HIGHLAND FLING 53 MILE TRAIL RACE - INCORPORATING UKA AND SCOTTISH ULTRA TRAIL CHAMPIONSHIPS

The 6th running of the Montane Highland Fling attracted a record filed of over 400 starters for the annual 53 mile race on the southern half of the West Highland Way trail. The large field necessitates staggered starts and the super vets and ladies were first off at 6am. Kate Jenkins (HBT) led from the start and by the time they reached Balmaha below Conic Hill on Loch Lomond side, had a clear lead.

Men’s course record holder Jez Bragg (North Face), victor here in 2009, was back to attempt to reclaim his title and when the main men’s start set off at 8am he was prominent in a small group that included Andy James and Stuart Mills(Brighton). At Balmaha (the 18 mile point ) Bragg seemed to be pushing things on in an attempt to break the group up.

The long and demanding stretch up the picturesque side of Loch Lomond to the checkpoint at Beinglass Farm(41 miles) left Jenkins with a clear almost 30 minute lead ahead of Scottish 100km international Debbie Consani (Garscube) in the women’s race.

The mid day temperatures were proving challenging and when James and Bragg appeared together after five and a half hours of running, it was James who looked the stronger as he momentarily stopped to grab his Drop bag of supplies and fill a water bottle, before pushing on and opening a 100 metre lead on Bragg, who took a more measured Check point approach, knowing a good hour and a half of running still lay ahead. He took a few moments to ensure he was well refuelled, also asking the checkpoint marshals to pour water over his head to combat the heat.

Jenkins, although slowing considerably on the last stretch up to the picturesque highland village of Tyndrum, still maintained a clear lead over Consani. The former record holder for the full 95 mile West Highland Way just missed the nine hour barrier with 9.04.24, the third fastest ladies time on the Highland Fling trail and with it claimed the UK and Scottish titles. Consani, just over a month after completing the UK 100km champs, showed her consistency by comfortably taking second place (9.39.32) and improving on her 2010 time by ten minutes, ahead of Clydesdale’s Heather Caulderwood (9.42.59).

In the men’s race it was Andy James who proved the stronger arriving at the finish in a new course record of 7.12.08, just over 3 minutes ahead of Bragg (7.15.12) who was also inside his former mark of 7.19.09. Colchester’s Allen Smalls came through strongly for 3rd and first vet. James, winner of the Lakeland 50 last summer, had come to the race hoping to run inside seven and a half hours but not really expecting to win.

Matt Williamson (Bellahouston Road Runners) after a steady start came through strongly in the second half of the race to take the inaugural Scottish ultra trail title in 5th place overall (7.46.11) ahead of the experienced Richie Cunningham (Carnegie)7.58.23.

With the Scottish team title decided on cumulative times of 3 team runners, Hunters Bog Trotters took the men’s medals and Helensburgh, including Ellen McVey one of the key race organisers, were a popular winner of the ladies team prize.

Full results at http://www.highlandflingrace.org/

Results:
1st Andrew James 7.12.08 (course record)
2nd Jez Bragg North Face 7.15.12
3rd Allen Smalls Colchester (V40) 7.43.31
4th Julian Rendall Thames H & H 7.45.33
5th Matt Williamson Bellahouston RR 7.46.11
6th Stuart Mills Brighton (MV40) 7.51.36
7th Ritchie Cunningham Carnegie H (MV40) 7.58.23

WOMEN
1st Kate Jenkins Hunters Bog Trotters 9.04.24
2nd Debbie Martin-Consani Garscube H 9.39.32
3rd Heather Caulderwood Clydesdale 9.42.59
4th Helen Lees Giffnock North (FV40) 9.51.51
5th Michelle Hetherington Helensburgh (FV40) 9.55.19

Chip off the old block

2011-04-29T13:53:00.002+01:00

You're right, Richie, Cairn's working on the spreadsheets.

Good luck to everyone running the Highland Fling tomorrow.

118: Got my number

2011-04-26T21:12:00.002+01:00

Seen as I've been assigned such a comedy race number, it would be rude not to partake in Saturday's Highland Fling. I've had a few good runs over the last week and a few stinkers too. I've got no idea how my legs will be, but I'm really looking forward to it. Sonic has had to pull-out - see his blog for details - so some one's got to take one for the team. Cairn's not quite ready for his first ultra yet. Although he did manage a couple of miles on the Kilpatrick Hills on Easter Sunday. We're not pushy parents, he's just not up for being strapped in his back pack for too long.

Cairn's quads must have been sore, as he was using JK's descending the Devil's Staircase approach.

On another note: At Garscube Harriers' AGM I was awarded with the club's "Most Meritorious Performance" Award...for the second time. I also won it in 2008. It came as a massive shock, as the engraved names would suggest that no one has won it twice.

So I'm now officially resting for the Fling. Last run tomorrow. This year, I'll be following a race plan and splits devised by Sonic, instead of my usual lets-just-wing-it strategy. So, this year my plan is to get to Drymen 10 minutes SLOWER than last year. Nervous about that? You bet he is :-)

To fling or not to fling, that is the question

2011-04-21T20:33:00.000+01:00

I'm torn on this one. Do I do the 53 mile Highland Fling next weekend? Obviously my head wants to do it, but my body is dragging on the idea some what. I know it's a bit of an ask considering the 100K was only five minutes ago - a race, which incidentally, pretty much broke me - but it ranks pretty high on the wish list.

I'm sure I've recovered or at least on the mend. With less than five weeks between races, there's about a 20 minute window for training in between recovering from one race and tapering for the next next. With this in mind, I probably tried to get back into running quicker than my legs would have liked. I attempted my first run four days after the race. Officially the most ungraceful run ever. I liken it to drinking a bottle of wine and trying to run for a bus. My arms and legs felt like they weren't connected to my body and my eyes were rattling about in my head. And I don't know where to begin with the aches and pains. My calves were a mess. I lasted four miles and walked the last one. Broken. And back to square one.

After that I took another few days off and started back on the Monday. A easy week and then a cracking run on the West Highland Way. I wasn't sure if my legs were up for it, but it was so good to be back on the trails that I loved every minute of it. Twice up and down Conic Hill gave my quads a good kickin' too. It had only been two months since my last real off-road run, but it's amazing how quickly you become un-hill-fit.

Last week, I did my first speed session and it wasn't as nasty as i anticipated. If anything, it was just what I needed. That coupled with a great 18-mile run on Kilpatrick Hills on Friday and my mojo is resumed.

So, as it stands, I'm about 80% sure I'm doing the Fling.

This year - the UK's biggest ultra - will be the UKA Trail Championships and the Scottish Ultra Trail Championships. Looking at the starters list, the men's field is quite spectacular. It will be really interesting to see this one unfold. The Highland Fling is the perfect race to separate the men from the boys, so to speak. It's long enough that you can't wing on marathon training. It's short enough that you can't rely on luck and good fuelling. Hilly enough to knee-cap and road runner and flat enough to disadvantage the mountain-goats.

Anglo-Celtic Plate 2011 (100K)

2011-04-01T22:00:00.000+01:00

I've spent most of this week trying to compose this post, so I'm just going to summarise some thoughts and lessons learned - otherwise it could take me longer to write than actually run. You would have thought I would have had loads more time on my hands this week, but in reality it's just taking that bit longer to do basic tasks. Starting with 20 minutes to get down the stairs on Monday morning.

Well, I survived. Just. My hips have just about forgiven me and my calves have almost stopped screaming. In a nutshell, it was tough. Really tough. Although I'm still traumatised, I'm elated. I'm glad I pushed myself to try something new and it was an honour to wear the Scotland vest.

I finished in 9:03:09 which is an average pace of 8:44m/m

Click here for 50K and 100K results

You could skip the drivel and just click on JK's video below, it's much more entertaining. Don't forget the tea and biscuits though, as it's 35 minutes long.

Pre-race: I didn't taper as much as I should have, mainly because this race wasn't the be-all and end-all of 2011. I'm still not sure of my race plans, but I don't like to put all my eggs in one basket. Like most long-distance races, the training takes over your life, but when it comes to crunch time you always think it's never enough.

Expectations: Non really. As it was my first 100K on the road, the jury was out. 100K veterans are fairly keen to tell you their horror stories, which not only involve pain and fatigue, but tears and lots of vomit. I thought physically I could hold it together, but it was the mental aspect that I was most concerned about. My dream time was sub:9, but realistically I was hoping for 9-10 hours. I'm less analytical than may better half - who is still scrutinising D33 splits - but the Crazy (Scottish) German sent me a link to runningforfitness.org for a race time predictor based on my 2008 marathon time. I'd like to think I could better that now, but I based it on fact rather than fantasy.

Competitors: Although I was told I "looked nervous" quite a few times on race morning, I think I was more overwhelmed than anything. Looking at the starters list from other teams (I resisted the temptation to google them, as to not freak out), I knew I would probably come in last of the country runners, so I just concentrated on running my own race.

Course: 42 laps of a very flat 1.5mile loop in North Inch Park. In hindsight, I learned that laps aren't actually that bad. I'm not saying it didn't do my head in. Far from it. But it didn't really take it's toll until I was 30 laps down. Although Adrian informed us at the pre-race briefing that counting laps was just mental torture, I just couldn't help it.

Conditions: Perfect. We couldn't have asked for a better day. Glorious, fresh and sunny. The flip-side to the rare sight of spring, was that families, dog walkers, skaters and cyclists were out in the hoards. There was even a football and rugby game going on in the middle of the course. It was like running in a goldfish bowl, with nowhere to hide. I even saw one of the English girls getting hit square-on by a rugby ball. Thankfully most people were really courteous and accommodating - or maybe it was fear of the snottering zombies coming anywhere near their kids.

Pacing: Started out very conservative, running with the uber-experienced, Pauline Walker at the back of the pack for about the first couple of hours. I pushed on and started picking off a runners in the open race. I haven't seen the splits yet, but from the laps times that Sonic supplied, I was steady at the start, picked it up in the middle and then the wheels started to come off in the last 10 laps. I wasn't alone, as I was passing runners who had lapped me a few times at the start. During the last five laps, I was pretty sure I wasn't going to get sub:9, so lost my drive and just concentrated on finishing. If only I knew how close I would be to it. To be honest, at the time, I gave what I had.

Pauline is the Scottish 24-hour record holder (130+ miles!) and nothing sort of phenomenal. Where most runners fell across the finish line like something from Dawn of the Dead, she crossed and sauntered along like she had just strolled out of Marks and Spencer.

Food: I still can't get my food right. Even more so on a race that requires a bit more constant effort. I managed two bars of tablet and then would only consider coke and sports drink after a few hours. Sonic tried to get me to eat a sandwich, which I spat out in front of a horrified family. Actually the vast majority of the things he gave me, ended up in the bin. I ran out of energy after about five hours and just got through on determination.

Cramps: This isn't something I've ever suffered from. My legs didn't cramp, but my calves were pulsing for the last couple of hours and I keep expecting them to spasm. It wasn't sore, just concerning. Actually my legs felt OK most of the time. I was trying to pull myself together by reminding myself of this. Pete - there was a lot of foul language and warrior talk.

The finish: This probably ranks has one of the happiest moments in my life. Not for the achievement, but for the total relief.

Team Scotland: The guys did really well. Craig Stewart won the race and helped secured the first team prize. As I was lapped quite frequently by all five guys, I can safety say they are all awesome. In the girls team is was no surprise that Gail Murdoch was first, with a massive PB to boot. Followed by Izzy Knox and then me. The Gibbering Midget had to pull-out after falling ill, which was awful. After training with her for the last few months, it was so sad to see her so upset. She's a real trooper though, so watch out for some unfinished business on the Highland Fling later this month.

And now to the thank you bit. There are so many people, I don't know where to start. Thanks for to the organisers and timekeepers, especially Val and Adrian. Thanks to everyone who came out to support and pick me up, especially JK, Katrina, the Pacepushers, Lady Sadie, Davie, Tim and Izzy. Huge thanks to JK for the video, which is the perfect keep-sake.

My biggest thank you is to Sonic for his top-notch back-up and for the support during training. Apparently back-up is "way harder than running". With short laps, I'm sure it's pretty relentless. I hope holding in that pee for nine hours doesn't cause any lasting damage, Sonic. Although I'm sure that's dramatic license. I've seen the video, remember :-)

Thanks, Anita

2011-03-26T11:01:00.001Z

Another amazing creation.... I love it. Thanks, Anita.

All in a week's work

2011-03-24T21:15:00.000Z

How do you taper? There is lots of conflicting advice, isn't there? This year started with cram-training because I was scared of undertraining. Then with the rapid increase in miles - mainly road miles - I was concerned about overtraining. Then I hit taper and someone mentioned the concept of de-training and then there was more panic.

Personally I like to knock back on the miles, but stick with some speed work. Not de-training, but possibly overtraining? Who knows?

Mon, March 14: 8 x 3 mins (60 sec)
6.58,6.52, 6.59, 6.29, 6.32, 6.55, 6.44, 6.41
Tues, March 15: 6 miles easy
Wed, March 16: 3 x 10 min (2 mins)
7.10, 6.58, 6.51
Thurs, March 17: Club session with 2 x 2 mile tempo
Fri, March 18: Rest
Sat, March 19: Rest
Sunday, March 20: Get this. I did 42 laps round the pond in Victoria Park. Even the ducks wanted to throw things at me. I thought it might help get my head round the repitition. It didn't. 12.5 miles all in. Although I felt so good doing a normal long run and being home for 10am.

Mon, March 21: 15 x 1 (30 sec)Average 6:30 - although the last one was 5:57!
Tues, March 22: 5.5 miles easy
Wed, March 23: 8, 6, 5 (90 sec) 4, 3, 2, 1 (60 sec)
7.11, 6.50, 6.58, 6.44, 6.43, 6.52, 6.07
Thurs, March 24: 5.5 easy

That's all from me, folks. I've hung up my trusty Garmin and my ipod for the foreseeable future. I just need to stop eating my supplies for Sunday now.

D33 in pictures

2011-03-19T21:08:00.014Z

Congratulations to all who completed today's D33 Ultra on The Deeside Way in Aberdeen.

Click here for some race pictures

The race was won by Grant Jeans, who broke his own course record, in 3:29. Scott Bradley put in stirling performance breathing down the neck of the course record holder in 3:30. My Sonic came third, taking 20 minutes off his PB, in an amazing time of 3:38. In the girls race, Lucy Colquhoun took pole position in 4:05. Our all-American girl, Jamie Aarons was second in 4:24 and Claire Imrie third in 4:35.

Mothers' of multiples: I salute you.

2011-03-18T20:13:00.000Z

I almost choked with laughter reading Andrew Lemoncello's weekly training diary. It all sounds very lovely. A wee run in the morning. Nap. Wee run in the afternoon. The bagel run on a Thursday sounds particularly exhausting.

Granted, Mr Lemoncello, you can run faster than I drive. But just by way of contrast, here's a day in my life. Wednesday being the example.

I got up before 6am to hit the pool before work. 100 lengths - front crawl no less. And it's a 25m pool, in case you think I'm splashing about in the spa. Ironically, I view this as my morning "off". I say this in the loosest term, as it means I do and sort everything the night before. Sonic has to dress and feed himself and Cairn, but still manages to be spectacularly late for work. 11.30am is the record so far. For a 9am start.

I'm out before 7.45am and at my desk for 8.30. First meeting is at 9.30 and the morning goes a bit t*ts up. I was supposed to meet the boys with the jet-propelled legs for a lunchtime speed session, but a few dramas later and I'm ten minutes late. Oh well, a lonesome 3 x 10 minutes with two minutes recovery. 8 miles all in.

Back to office, quick shower and I slide back into my office trying not to draw attention to the fact that I've been out for 20 minutes longer than the allocated lunch hour. I hope my employers are as lax about the concept of "lunch hour" as they are about the concept of "9-to-5".

Afternoon of juggling my department of one, which not only covers my own position but anything that no one else knows how to handle - namely readers of our beloved newspaper. I have many bizarre conversations which I tip-toe around in fear that a recording will reappear on some radio wind-up show. Note to self: Call switchboard to remind them that Newscastle is in fact not in Scotland.

Although I try to leave the office at 5:30, I'm bombing to the car at 5:50pm to pick up Cairn at nursery - which closes at 6pm. Sometimes I get the sweet satisfaction of not being the last parent there. Rarely though. I'm sure there's a Dad there that tries to race me.
On the five mile journey we sing songs from Cars (I’ve lost control of music choice) and get super-excited at the site of trains, buses, planes, ducks, trees and clocks. Quick detour via the petrol station and Tesco and I arrive at the front door laden door with shopping/gym/nursery bags, with my head doing 360º to make sure Cairn doesn’t make a run for it. And we’re home. Phew!

First of the evening duties is Cairn's dinner - home-made of course - which has to be eaten with the Buzz Lightyear Spoon and splashed on the carpets and smeared his hair.

Then it's bathtime, but not before I scrub the bath that Sonic used to clean the mud from his trainers that morning. The pre-bath ritual usually involves me chasing him (Cairn that is, not Sonic) and removing items of clothing which are deposited around the house. There's often a screaming match as I try to coax him into the bath. Once he's in and realises that soaking the floor is really good fun, there's often a screaming match as I try to coax him OUT of the bath.

I dry him whilst he clings to my neck and try to pin him down so I can apply lotions and put his pyjamas on. I liken it to trying to put shoes on an octopus. Then he has a bottle of milk, which he drinks very, very slowly, as he has wised-up to the fact cartoon viewing is over when it’s finished. Despite watching Cars/Toys Story/Thomas for the 715th time, it’s still compelling viewing for a two-year-old. NB: I also lost control of TV viewing.

When I tell Cairn it’s bedtime, he jumps round the sofa and hides behind the curtains. I draw him out by telling him there are "spiders in there!” to which he shrieks and crawls out. I rue the day that the spider trick doesn't work.

Story. Bed. Bliss? Not quite, now I have to answer all the missed calls from office and proof pages for the next day’s paper, which can keep coming until 10pm.

I make dinner, which is pre-packed vegetables with baked potato - nuked in the microwave - accompanied by a tin of tuna. Healthy, nutritious and requires limited involvement. Whilst said dinner is nuking, I clean the kitchen floor and sort out clothing for the next day.

After dinner, I’ve got a basket full of washing to do. Two runners and a toddler keep the laundry cycle pretty fluent. Then I tackle an ironing mountain, which is more challenging that some of the hills I run up. The only saving grace is that I can catch up with missed episodes of Glee.

Bed at 10.15… Me and Mr Tim Noakes… before it all starts again the next day. Thankfully I’m in taper for next week’s 62 mile race, as high mileage weeks are way more dramatic. Night, Mr Lemoncello. Good luck with your 26 miles. Look how we’ve reversed the digits

There's an old saying that goes...

2011-03-14T22:14:00.000Z

If you want to run faster, you have to, erm, run faster. Simples? Well, these days I've been running slower and getting faster. Go figure.

I generally run 5/6 days a week and include a swim session mid-week. Friday is my beloved rest day. I do an easy/steady run on Tuesday and Thursday and weekend runs are as they say on the tin: long and slow. Now I reserve my effort for the spped sessions I do on a Monday and Wednesday. Focusing on two days really seems to be working for me. There's a little bit of zip in my happy-plodding pins.

Here are a few examples. Some of you speedsters may snigger, but this is good for me.

MJ's Wednesday session:8 mins (90 sec rec), 4 x mins (60 sec rec) and 8 mins: 7.08, 6.51, 6.51. 6.32, 6.27 and 6.52

Club Monday fartlek: 3mins, 4mins, 5 mins, 3mins, 4 mins, 5 mins: 6.58, 6.39, 6.53, 6.40, 6.57, 7.00

MJ's Wednesday session: 5 x 5mins (75 sec rec) 6.58, 6.47, 6.44, 6.47, 7.01

So basically by running slower, I'm running the fastest I have have ever run. But guess what? In two weeks time, I'll be back to square one. Simples?

Waterboarding, anyone?

2011-03-09T20:39:00.000Z

As some/most of you will know, my next race is the Anglo Celtic Plate in Perth at the end of the month. Some of my trail-loving friends may find it hard to comprehend the idea of 100K on the road. Flat road at that.

To be honest, it's not something I would have willingly signed-up for, but to wear the Scotland vest is not an opportunity I can pass up on. But for those who remain aghast at the concept of 62 miles on tarmac, please allow me to delve into the true layers of horror.

Firstly it's a 1.49 mile lap. Now, I'm not good with maths (terrible, in fact) but I knew that was a lot of laps. 42 in fact. Ultra-running supremo, Jez Bragg informed me that it was "42 opportunities to eat, drink, change kit, lap up the atmosphere from the roaring crowds". Personally, I think that’s 42 opportunities to throw myself in the river!

Then I was informed all GPS and pacing devices are prohibited. I haven't run without a Garmin - even when I was preggers - for about five years. I'm not sure my feet will work without it. Thankfully we're allowed to wear a watch and I had the sense to go pace the course last month.

There are also strict rules about feeding/supports stations. Runners must pick up and drop off at the tables only. Support can't move along with the runner, which is incidentally what I was going to get Sonic to do.

The race starts at 7am on a Sunday morning. Now I quite like an early start, especially for travelling home afterwards. But the day chosen for the race is the day the clocks go forward, so really it's 6am in my head. I probably won't sleep for worrying about what the real time is.

And finally, runners are also prohibited from using ipods, MP3 or similar devices. Of course I discover this three days after buying a new ipod nana with inbuilt radio - specifically for this race. All not lost, as I'm sure I will make good use of it. But really? 62 miles of just me. Alone. With only my crazy thoughts.

Next time I'm going to opt for waterboarding as a more humane and civilised form of torture.

...and then the postie delivered my lovely new kit, and all is forgiven and forgotten. I've put in the miles (I think!) and I can't wait.

Taper time, folks. Don't you just love it?

Ginger Ninja's tour of Scotland

2011-02-26T08:38:00.000Z

This was to be the pièce de résistance. A 45 mile run on the number seven cycle route from Prestwick to Glasgow. Not exactly inspired, but it ticked all the boxes. Flat (well, for Scotland), tarmac and long.

The downside to road running is the lack of wow-wee scenic moments, but the advantage is you don't have the same logistical/travelling issues. For a point-to-point run, you can just jump on one of the frequent trains, go as far as you want and run back. Simples. For WHW runs, half the battle is the organisation.

I got the train from Glasgow and the Gibbering Midget got on at Kilwinning. The route we were running, winds pretty much parallel to the train tracks. It was quite unnerving to know it took Scotrail's finest 50 minutes to cover the same distance we would be running.

Off at the breezy coastal town of Prestwick, first stop was the al fresco powder room, as the GM duly announced "sitting on vibrating things make me need to pee". You gotta love her innocence.

We started running on the promenade along the beachfront...until it run out. We knew we were heading in the right direction, so made a detour along the beach and then across the golf course (all part of the adventure) until we got to Troon. Then it was clearly signposted and we were on our way.

Despite previously posting the weather forecast, we were really lucky. A bit breezy by the coast, but when is it not? Lots of glorious sunshine and only a few showers. And as a double bonus, apart from a undulation between Irvine and Glengarnock, it was pretty flat. We thought we'd won a watch.

The GM had stashed a drop-bag of supplies at Glengarnock (25 miles), so we had a pit-stop and a refuel on sandwiches and coke. Followed by unladylike belching and yelps as we got going again.

On through Lochwinnoch, Howwood, Johnstone and off at Paisley. We took the most direct along Glasgow Road passed Bellahouston Park.

Still feeling good, but we didn't taking into account that is was high-school throwing out time. Gobby wee boys and muffin-topped giggling girls were quite testing when our tolerance levels were at an all time low.

Just before 4pm we hit 45 miles at the Squiggley Bridge in Glasgow's city centre. 6 hrs 41mins. Average pace 8.55m/m. I doubt there will be many times we can say we ran through three Scottish counties. Starting in South Ayrshire and taking in North Ayrshire, Renfrewshire and finish in Lanarkshire. Magic.

The Clock Keeps Ticking

2011-02-24T20:54:00.000Z

Just finished reading Sharon Gayter's biography. It's a great read for anyone interested in distance running. It's also a really good story, even if you're not that way inclined.

After reading this, I'm quite glad I'm doing a 100K road race. It's a classic distance for an ultra-runner. Something quite measurable. I'm also half-heatedly started searching for a 24-hour event. Although next month's race may knock that idea on the head.

A lot of you will know some of the Scottish nutters mentioned in this book: Adrian Stott, Alan Young, Don Ritchie, Murdo McEwan, Pauline Walker, William Sichel to name a few. Murdo - what is that flapjack recipe laced with? Gotta get me some of that :-)

So far, I've had another good week. On Monday night I made my debut appearance at the club's fartlek session. It starts quite prompt at 6.30pm, which is usually a bit tight for me. I work at home on Mondays (which, in reality, is a lot less pleasant that it sounds), so I rely on Sonic getting home from work in time. Anyone who knows Sonic, knows punctuality is not is forte. Except on Monday he made a special effort. Although it did involve a faster warm-up to get there by the skin of my teeth.

I really enjoyed the session 3mins, 4mins x 4 - with 2 minute recovery. A more generous recovery than I'm used to these days. Coach Johnston doesn't believe in such lenghty slacking-off. I forgot to set my watch for the first rep, so just didn't bother for the rest. I pretty much gave it my all, so Tuesday's 8-miler was a bit rusty.

On Wednesday it was back to Coach Johnston whip-cracking speed session. 6 x 5 mins with 75 second recovery. 6.59, 6.58, 6.47, 6.44, 6.47 and 7.01.

Today I'm enjoying a wee rest day and a pasta lunch at Jamie's before embarking on a 45-miler with the Gibbering Midget tomorrow (Friday). Check out the weather forecast. Should I blame Sod's Law or Sharon Law?

It was worth it to Perth it

2011-02-22T08:38:00.005Z

After last weekend's exertions, I assumed I'd feel a little worse for wear at the beginning of the week. Not just fatigued, but I expected to hurt. Apart from looking and feeling like I could be cast in Dawn of the Dead on Monday morning, I was generally OK.

On Tuesday I did an 8-miler. No idea what pace it was, just nice and easy and comfortable. I suppose I was assessing the damage. Everything felt fine, so on Wednesday I decided to do the session with the boys with the jet-propelled legs. I started a wee bit early with the view to them bombing passed me somewhere near the end. I must have felt ok as I never even caught a glimpse of the boys with the jet-propelled legs.

8mins (7:08), 6mins (6:55), 4min (6.38), 3mins (6:50), 2mins (6:41), and 1min (6:10). I was pretty encouraged about how comfortable this felt.

On Thursday night I went along to the club, which was billed as an easy run ahead of the National X-Country. A show of hands at the pre-run briefing highlighted that only three of the 60 or so there were actually doing the Nationals though. Thanks, guys. I ran up to the Garscube estate and back home afterwards to clock another 6 miles. I sauntered round the 6 mile route with the lovely Emma. You know you're not exerting yourself when you spend the time house spotting/nosing and talking wedding chat. Emma, one half of Garscube's answer to Barbie and Ken, is getting married in May. It's the week after the women's 10K, so we talked about having Emma and club girls dressed-up as bride and maids.

Friday, rest day. On Saturday morning,the GM and I headed to Perth to recce the 100K course. It was an early rise, as we had to get the laps in before scooting over to the National X-country in Falkirk. Yep, a 170 mile round trip to run 10. It was kinda like Thelma and Louise, but with the life sucked out of it. And that was before we step out of the car into horizontal sleet. Deeply unpleasant. After seven laps I'd lost the will to live. Speaks volumes, doesn't it? Only 35 to go.... It was worth the trip though. I like to know the course, to go over it in my (crazy) head. And as Garmins are prohibited on race day, I can work out pacing according to lap times. Allegedly.

It's safe to say, it's a pretty flat course...

Then it was off to Falkirk to meet up with Sonic and Cairn. I took some pix of the Men's' race. Click here if you fancy a peek.

The races are seriously competitive, with the creme de la creme out show. It was the first time I'd been to the event and it was awesome viewing. Comical to see that the further up the front the runners are the skinner they are, the less clothes they were wearing (in close to freezing temperatures) and the more snot and gob they had on their faces. But my god, they can fairly shift it. It's not for the faint hearted. Seeing some of the facial expressions made me understand why Gary-Next-Door (and captain of Clydesdale Harriers) says ultra-runners "show no emotion". Granted, it's less fierce, but when I'm blubbering, hallucinating and hurting from the eye-lashes down, I tend to display a lot of emotion. And a snotty nose is the least of my worries.

Sonic ran a belter and came in 90th overall.

On Sunday morning, it was Sonic's turn to be up and out sharp, as he had planned a Kilpatrick hill run with JK and Bob. Normal people might kick-back with a fry-up and the Sunday papers, but I used the morning to get on with a long-list of domestic chores.

When Sonic got back, I went for a steady 10-miler round the west end. Poor Cairn really is a relay baton these days. He probably thinks his parents have separated and nobody has told him.

Thankfully the sun made a rare appearance on Sunday afternoon, so we got to go to the park. You know your son hangs out at too many races, when he shouts "Ready. Steady. Go!" at all the runners passing by.

Road to Nowhere

2011-02-17T22:23:00.005Z

When the folks in the office asked about my plans for the weekend and I replied: "mainly running" I was met with the usual eye-rolling response. To be honest, I don't think they understood that I would quite literally be, eh, mainly running.

One of the big plans for training for the 100k, was to do two fairly lengthy back-to-back road runs. Granted I've done a lot of training on the roads, but nothing over 20 miles. I was quite apprehensive about the weekend. Not because of the distance, but what the terrain would do to my pampered pins.

On Saturday's 37 mile circuit, we kinda cheated and took in about 9 miles on the WHW, but ran up all the cheeky hills - and the "b*stard" ones too. It turned out to be a cracking day and we knocked out the miles quicker and more comfortable than expected.

36.5 miles. Time 5:28. Average 9.03m/m

Sunday's run from Kilbirnie (after leaving Cairn at Gran's for the morning) to Glasgow was a bit rusty to start. Even the Gibbering Midget wasn't gibbering. The weather wasn't the best and the thought of 20+ miles on the number seven cycle track didn't have a huge appeal, but needs must. After about 6/7 miles we got into our groove and, again, the time zipped by. We finished quite strong and in high spirits, so that was a real confidence booster. Road running isn't quite so scary after all.

20.5 miles. Time 3:08. Average 9.17m/m

The GM and I run really well together and I doubt the weekend would have been remotely enjoyable without the support. I know I hold her back most times, but she never lets on. She is the epitome of mind-over-matter. She does have quite spectacular fuel dips though, but a quick sugar stop and she's off like Cocaine Kate. It's quite awesome. Definitely made in Scotland, from girders.

I'm working well with my nutrition plan. Previously when I'm down, I'm out. But I'm focusing on keeping topped up from early on. Making a conscious effort to take in some sports drink and sweets every six miles and not waiting 'til I'm seeing stars. At which point, I can't eat anyway. So far, so good, but I suppose race day will be the tester. Any advances on four jelly babies over 53 miles would be a bonus.

You don't have to be unhinged, but it helps.

2011-02-09T08:40:00.004Z

Well, it's been all go in the Consani household. Sonic is now being sponsored by The National Stadium Sports Health and Injury Clinic and I've been selected to run in the Anglo Celtic Plate International in Perth in March. Essentially that means Sonic has full use of their facilities and gets to run to exhaustion, half-naked, whilst wearing a mask and I get to run round in circles for 100K. Magic.

So, the last few weeks I've been cranking up the miles. Of the pavement plodding variety. Apparently it's frowned upon to stop for a photo opp and a pick 'n' mix. Thankfully the Gibbering Midget is also on the team, so we've been training together. For club and country, we've had to tone down our specialist subjects of: boys, clothes and make-up for more somber discussions on training plans, routes, logistics and splits. Dear god, we're starting to sound like Sonic and the Crazy German.

To be honest, I'm kinda winging it. I've known about the race for a few months, but never thought much of it. With nine weeks from selection to race day, there's only so much I can do. And that's got to include a 2/3 week taper.

I've had a few great runs and a few bombers. 35 miles being the longest so far. Thankfully that fell into the great run category. I even attempted some circular repeats - this is now my technical term for running in circles. I found a one-miler close to home and ran round it 10 times. Man, that was tough. For once I found it hard to control my pace. The overwhelming urge to get it over with definitely outweighed the enjoyment.

I figured some of the training I would be doing could be quite monotonous, so I decided to put some audiobooks on my ipod. The first book being Michael McIntyre's biography. It's well worth a read, or in my case a listen. I was chocking with laughter whilst running round in circles last Saturday...nee naw, nee naw.

So back to winging it: This weekend the GM and I are running 35 on Saturday and 20+ on Sunday. You don't have to be unhinged, but it helps.

Ultra-running: For fat people who can't run very fast? Indeedy

2011-01-31T21:50:00.000Z

Thanks to Murdo for sending me this. Made me right giggle, so it did. And saved me actually writing a proper post.

I am an ultra-runner

2011-01-14T23:03:00.000Z

Running Vs Jogging

2011-01-14T21:50:00.001Z

The Nutrition Transition

2011-01-13T08:48:00.001Z

I'd like to think I'm a healthy eater. I like fresh, colourful food and (unless full of beer) greasy make me queasy. I'm not a must-have-chocolate-everyday kind of girl and crips just don't cut. My downfall is sweets. And picking. BC (before Cairn) I was out most evenings, generally training, but now I spend most evenings at home - too close to the fridge. It's not usually out of hunger or boredom, more just because it's there. If it wasn't for the fact that I work full-time, you could probably run reps round me!

I make more of an effort with food, but I know I'm not a healthy drinker. And that's not including the wine. I hydrate on coffee, tea and Pepsi Max. I very rarely drink water. Not because I don't like it, I just don't get to the "oh I could murder a glass of water" stage.

When it comes to eating and drinking during training and races, that's where I really suffer. I could probably list from memory exactly what I ate during the four ultras I did last year. For example, during the 53 mile Highland Fling, I ate the grand total of four jelly babies. I overcompensate with Lucozade and Coke, which generally leaves my bagged-up. You know I don't do toilet chat, so that's as graphic as it's going to get.

So in a vain attempt to start the year's training/races on the right foot, I went to see dietitian Nathalie Jones, who's based at Achilles Heel on Sundays.

There's just so much conflicting advice out there: You need carbs for energy, but carbs make you fat. You need protein for recovery, but runners eat too much protein. Sugar's bad for you, but sports drinks will make you run longer/faster/better. Runners need dairy to fend off osteoporosis, but milk gives you runner's trots. Run on empty to train you body not to hit the wall, don't run on empty or you'll risk muscle breakdown and long term fatigue. It's a mindfield out there. And that's before you take into account fad diets and bogus supplements.

Prior to the appointment I had to submit a training plan and food diary. Basically everything I ate over four (average) days. It's amazing seeing what you consume in black and white. And more so, I was very conscious of how much I pick and eat mindlessly. And that was me "randomly selecting" the good days :-)

The one-hour appointment with Nathalie was very insightful. The plan essentially goes back to basics and seems relatively easy to follow. OK, I've only been doing it for three days. No calorie counting or weighing, thankfully. It's all based on portion sizes. Upping my carbs and dairy and using protein for after exercise.

I'll actually be (well, consciously) eating more than I'm used to and should keep my weight steady, without having to have really good days to compensate for the really bad days. Losing 5/6 lbs would be a bonus though.

Let the fun and games commence

2011-01-07T19:21:00.003Z

The Marcothon is finished. The parties are over. My house looks like Hamley's. I've acquired a muffin top. And I'm on the wagon. It must be a New Year then.

It started so well, with a nice big thaw of the snow and ice. Yay! And now it's creeping its way back in. My long-overdue return to club training last night, involved six miles of treacherously icy pavements, with some gobby neds in Maryhill thrown in for good measure. Oh joy.

I hope it doesn't overstay its welcome this time, as I really need to get some sort of training - which doesn't involve plodding - in. I did my first session in over a month on Wednesday. I would say speed session, but I fear you may laugh. Let's split hairs and just call it a session with effort.

The last (published) of Johnson's Joggers training plans went out the window - along with my mojo. But I'm all fired up and ready to start my new schedule. I'll post it later this week, but here are the lunch speed (ok, effort) sessions.

w 08/01 - 18, 8, 6 (90 secs)
M 10/01 – 8 x 3mins (1min) [canal - kelvin]
W 12/01 – 2 x 1 mile hill loop (2mins) + 7 x triangle hill sprint (continuous)
M 17/01 – 20min tempo + 6 x 200m [kelvin & kelvingrove park]
W 19/01 – 4 x 6mins + 1 x 3mins (90secs) [canal - kelvin]
M 24/01 – 15 x 1min brisk, 30secs steady fartlek [kelvin]
W 26/01 – 3 x killers [kelvingrove park]
M 31/01 – 4.8 mile out & back tempo [canal]
W 2/02 - 2 x 8mins (90secs) + 4 x 2mins (75secs) [canal - kelvin]
M 7/02 – 2 x 1 mile hill loop (2mins) + 8 x triangle hill sprint (continuous)
W 9/02 - 3 x 12min (2min) [canal]
M 14/02 – 15 x 1min brisk, 30secs steady fartlek [kelvin]
W 16/02 - 8, 6, 4, 3, 2, 1min (90secs after the 8 & 6 then 1min) [canal – kelvin]

I still haven't really done any long runs, which I'm getting slightly concerned about. I had a second stab at the Mingavie-Drymen out and back (24 miles) last week - with Sonic, the GM, JK, Crazy German and unstoppable Mister C. Disaster number two. The big thaw hadn't quite reached surburbia. It's only five miles up the road, but it was like stepping into a parallel universe. Exaggerated by the sight of Richie in a pair of Pantyhose. Under Armour, Rich. The clue's in the name :-)

So on to the West Highland Way we went, which was the first mistake. It was like a rink. Second mistake was going with a Kahtoola/yaktrak clad group. My ice grippers were worn down after a month of pavement pounding and were what I described as "f*ck all use to anybody!". After a very frustrating seven miles of cross-country/field running, I threw in the towel and about turned. A wise choice, as without the grip 14 miles was tough enough. I was feeling pretty sorry for myself and my legs were knackered.

I was glad to get to the car and remove my sodding-wet socks and shoes. A great excuse to put on my lovely new Hunter wellies. Hey, it's been a least two postings since I mentioned new shoes.

I picked up Cairn earlier than expected (bonus) and decided to go shopping (double-bonus). Can you imagine the above outfit teamed up with a skelping red face and a pair of wellies? Now imagine the look on the faces behind the Estee Lauder counter at Frasers when I appeared waving an over-eager credit card. I'm sure Cairn was just pretending to be asleep.

I got home to discover the postman had tried to deliver my new Kahtoolas. I would have been miffed if it wasn't for the fact that when I went to collect them, the company had sent a pair of large microspikes in error - which, again, would be "f*ck all use to anybody".

All was not lost though, as a self-administered big dollop of TTFU and I went out and ran the missing 10 miles. I would not be beaten.

Then came the Marcothon Grand Finale. I was kind of sad to see it end, as it was what kept me (and many others) motivated throughout the weather chaos. I met and was encouraged by lots of great people along the way - the usual maddies and some real troopers. I organised a last-minute small group run in Pollok Park, which was a nice way to end it.

We even had a Marcothon proposal! See the Subversive Runner's blog for more details.

My first run in 2011 was on the Kilpatrick Hills with the Gibbering Midget. The aim was to meet in Old Kilpatrick at 8am. The GM was out on the vino the night before, so I was half expecting a call off. I was woken by a text message, which I thought was said call off, only to read: "Is everything OK?" and I then noticed it was 8:15. F*********ck!! Even Cairn, who's my back-up alarm, was still sound. I was up, half-dressed and out in minutes. I didn't even brush my teeth, but used the mouthwash from the glovebox (ok, it's an Aygo, so it's more of space where the glovebox should be) which I swirled round my mouth and spat out the window. If I had been more awake, I would have realised when driving at 50mph that it was obviously going to come back in and hit me. I got there just before 8:30, minty-fresh and slightly startled. First stop was the al fresco powder room.

Thankfully the run was well worth the panic. Amazing views and the terrain wasn't the usually marshland, so I finished with semi-dry feet. And ready to murder a coffee.

Happy New Year everyone :-) My (small) Kahtoolas arrived today.

Merry Christmas

2010-12-25T23:34:00.000Z

It's a Marcothon, not a sprint

2010-12-23T08:59:00.008Z

We're now into the fourth week of our winter white-out and according to the forecast it's here to stay for the foreseeable future. Joy. It has pretty much disabled the entire country. And in true British-style, the weather is the favourite topic of conversation. Michael McIntyre summed it up during the Royal Variety Show last week, when he said the snow has become the news. National news: It's snowing. Sport: It's snowing. Weather: Well, it's snowing. The news where your are: It's snowing there too.

Who would have thought we would - well, most likely - finish the Marcothon in the same conditions we started? At first we all moaned about the snow. Then it stopped snowing and left an ice rink. Then we wished for the snow to come back. Now all we need is rain, which will no doubt give us something else to moan about. In true British Style.

Day 23 of the Marcothon and although I'm underwhelmed by the prospect of stepping outside most days, I'm overwhelmed by the response and enthusiasm of those involved. Nearly 300 recruits. There have been a few DNFs - although I'm sure there have been a few more than those who have confessed to bowing out. No wonder, it's been a tough one. There have been daily postings of hangovers, tantrums, tumbles, triumphs, struggles and lovely winter wonderland photos. Pictures which always look beautiful on screen. Not so beautiful when your ears are in danger of falling off.

There has been a little bit of rule bending, but who cares? It's all about the personal achievement and pushing yourself a little more than you normally would. Especially in the lowest ever temperatures recorded in December. Well, in Scotland anyway.

To be honest, if it wasn't for the Marcothon I don't think I would have bothered. I know it's good training, especially for mental toughness, but I'm also looking forward to:

1) Running under 8m/m
2) Not having to stop to help someone push their car
3) Turning corners without slowing to a shuffle and holding onto to a fence/lamp-post
4) No impromptu Saturday Night Fever moves, when my foot slips from underneath
5) No involuntary whooping and squealing
6) No more jaw-drop gazes from eyes that are just willing you to fall
7) Not having to start-stopping 10 feet from the kerbside
8) Wearing road shoes. Or anything that doesn't involved studs, spikes or grip
9) Being able to feel my face. And being aware that snot is running down it
10)Realising that shorts over tights is a ridiculous look. But my ass is freezing.

Not only has the Marcothon attracted record-holders, ultra-distance race winners, and even some running "celebrities", there are some real humbling stories. Ann McLachlan was stuck in hospital and used the four-hour a day when she wasn't linked up to a drip to complete the distance/time by stomping round the hospital wards and stairwells. How's that for dedication? One chap started the journey on a treadmill on a oil rig in the north sea and another hasn't even done a 10K - yet!

Given the conditions, it's just head's down and plodding. No sessions and no big runs for me. The most I've run is 17 miles with the Gibbering Midget. Even then we planned to run 25 miles on an out-and-back from Milngavie to Drymen. We almost threw in the towel at the car park, but managed a slippery seven miles before we about turned and did a circuit round Langbank. We did have a hoot though. You know you're out with the GM when you say something positive like. "Look on the bright-side. It's not raining. It's a beautiful day. And your glittery eye-shadow looks fabulous". Given that we both had Christmas nights' out that evening, we'd both gone a bit OTT on the fake-tan and turned up like satsumas. Although the GM looked immaculate as always, which might have more to do with her post-run liaisons :-)

That's packed-ice underfoot.

The Gibbering Midget: Outfit by Adidas. High Viz tights: Model's own.

The nightmare before Christmas

2010-12-01T23:53:00.001Z

Planes, trains and buses have ground to a halt. Cars have been abandoned. Road, airports and schools are closed. Shops have run out of basic supplies, people have become prisoners in their own homes and the ecomony is losing millions by the day. But it would take more than freezing temperatures and white-out conditions to stop runners grinding out out the miles, eh? Tough or mentally-insane? I say a healthy serving of both. Where there's a will there's a way.

Ill-equipped and scantily-clad, snow or now snow, the show must go on. The Marcothon has now commenced. As of today (the first day) there are 267 runners on Facebook signed up to run every day in December. Plus, I know there's quite a few anti-social-networkers on board too.

Looks like it's going to be a real challenge after all. I may need an extra serving of TTFU. Apparently winter 2009/10 was the worst for 30 years. Now 2010/11 is forecast to be the earliest and worst winter conditions for some time.

Saturday brought us the first dumping of snow, which meant I missed out on the Hugh Wilson 10K in East Kilbride. After searching for webcams, we found the conditions were worse there than in Glasgow. We later heard the race went ahead, but there were too many logistical and babysitting issues to bother with a race that involved running in ankle-deep snow. I was secretly relieved.

I opted for 10 miles round the west-end. Every cloud has a silver lining, as I got to try out my lovely new Inov8 Roclites.

Great grip and much lighter than my Trabucos. Only problem is they don't go with any of my outfits. But I've got a solution for that...:-)

Over the last few days - as the snow and ice continues - I've swapped them for my x-talons. Wearing them is probably the closest I'll get to "normal" running, so I'll stick with them for the time being. Hopefully not for the next 30 days though. I don't love them that much.

It may be hard to believe, but I've actually been enjoying running this week. I've kinda got my head round the fact the snow and ice could possibly be about for the rest of the month, so best to suck it up and get on with it.

So far, I haven't slipped. Yet. And I've managed to dodge the snowballs. Thus far. On Monday night, I passed a group of local neds One of them threw a snowball, which landed about two metres from my feet. Probably not my brightest move to say: "you throw like a girl". Next thing there were six 13-year-olds tearing down the street armed with snowballs. You know the sorry state of youth today when I was running on foot-deep snow on the pavement and they were running on the road, and I'd out-ran them within 200m. Another non-smart move was to turn round and give them the two's-up, before smugly sauntering on. I don't think I'll be doing that route for a while...

Some running chat

2010-11-23T07:01:00.000Z

As per previous posting, I'm still following Mark Johnston's training plan Monday-Friday. And basically doing what takes my fancy on Saturday and Sundays.

Here's the phase two plan. Dubbed phase two because it's - obviously - my second burst. Tuesdays and Thursdays are 7-8 miles steady with the speed sessions on Monday and Wednesday

W 17/11 – 6 x 4mins (75secs)
M 22/11 – 10 x 2mins (1min)
W 24/11 – 20min tempo + 6 x 200m
M 29/11 – 7 x triangle hill sprint (continuous) + 2 x 1 mile hill loop (2 – 3mins) W 1/12 – 3 x 8mins (2mins)
M 6/12 – 15 x 1min brisk, 30secs steady fartlek
W 8/12 – 3 x increasing pace killers (2mins)
M 13/12 - 1min, 2min, 3min, 4min, 5min, 4min, 3min, 2min, 1min (1min)
W 15/12 – 7 x figure of 8 hill reps [kelvingrove park]
M 20/12 - 4.8mile canal out & back tempo
W 22/12 – 8 x 3mins (1min)

'Spose I better feedback on phase one...Click on image below.

Thanks to everyone who shared my humour on Sonic's roller stunt.

Since I started this blog way back whenever it was, I've always been quite overwhelmed by the amount of people who read and comment on my drivel on life's ups and downs.

Annoucing I was pregnant - 25 comments
Cairn's first picture - 13 comments
2nd female and 2nd fastest female time ever in DOTH - 6m post-baby - 22 comments
10 hours PB on WHWR 2010 - 24 comments
1st female vet in Scottish Ultra Marathon Series - 4 comments

Post a video of my husband falling off bike - 27 comments. And that doesn't include the emails, texts or facebook messages.

Go figure!

Well now I know what appeals to you, here's a snip of a conversation I had with Sonic on the way to work this morning:

Sonic: I need to run under eight hours for 100K
Me: Well if you run two 3:10 marathons, that gives you 1:40 to run nine miles
Sonic: I think two 3:30 marathons would do it.
Me: That only gives you less than an hour to run nine miles, when you're knackered.
Sonic: OK, but what if I run the nine miles first?

Too funny

2010-11-16T20:59:00.004Z

For Sonic's birthday, I bought him rollers for his bike. This was the first bash. Excuse the language and his vain attempt to stop me from blogging this. Bare with it. The grade-A strop at the end is worth the viewing :-)

With age comes sense?

2010-11-15T22:53:00.002Z

At the grand old age of 35 and seven months old, I'm now closer to 40 than 30. Does that make me a proper grown-up? Nope, thanks to my maturity by-pass, I'm suffering from yet another colossal hangover today. On a school day as well.

To set the scene, the Gibbering Midget and I set out in the early dark hours for our long run. I'm not one for eating first thing, let alone 6am on a Sunday morning. So, 19 hilly miles on a empty stomach.

We started at Knightswoods and headed up to Milngavie, onto the West Highland Way and cut off at Killearn and took the track back to strathblane. It was a cracking morning. Nice and fresh. It's just the best time of year for running. I love the autumnal colours and the views of the snow-capped mountains in the background. Yes, I was close to hugging a tree.

There was method to the madness in our route choice, as Sonic was meeting some of the Garscube boys at Strathblane later in the morning.

One Cairn handover and I was off to blitz the house and prepare everything for a surprise birthday party for Sonic. Who's incidentally closer to 40 than me :-) It's a good job the weather has been close to freezing for the last week, as the garage has made a great makeshift secret fridge for party food and drink.

Still too busy to eat.

The usual recruits arrived at 6pm. The upside to being the hostess is direct access to an abundance of food. The downside is direct access to an unlimited supply of wine. The GM duly informed me that even time I came out of the kitchen I was a little bit more sparkled. Unfortunately, it's an unrequited love when it comes to the grape. Will I ever learn? Doubt it.

Happy 36th birthday to Sonic. Who incidentally ran 36 mins dead at the Bella 10K on Saturday. Spooky, eh?

Who's up for the Marcothon 2010?

2010-11-04T08:35:00.000Z

This all started in 2009, when Marco (aka Sonic) challenged himself to run every day in November. As my wee Granny would say, I “can’t see green cheese”, so I decided to follow suit and run every day in December. I posted the challenge – and dubbed it the Marcothon - on Facebook and on my blog and before I knew it there was a group of runners equally eager to embrace the winter conditions of December 2009. And they were tough conditions!

The rules are simply, you must run every day. Minimum of three miles or 25 minutes – which ever comes first. The challenge starts on December 1 and finishes on December 31. And yes, that includes Christmas Day.

It's not a competition. Just a personal challenge or an incentive to burn off a few mince pies. So, who’s up for it the Marcothon 2010?

Join the gathering of Marcothonians on Facebook

The mucky season

2010-11-03T21:15:00.000Z

I'm now three cross-country races down. Who would have thought the girl with an adversion to such a pursuit, would willingly volunteer? I'm assured it's great training, although I remain unconvinced. Stoatin' about in an uncontrolled manner is something I'm well-trained in, but there's usually a few vinos involved.

So, since my last post, I've done Dumbartonshire CC Relays in Helensburgh and the National CC Relays in Cumbernauld. I loved the route in Helensburgh. A nice hilly trail. Perfect. Of course, everyone else seemed to dislike it. Weirdos.

The Nationals in Cumbernauld was torture. Not only was the course brutal, but I'd been on a work leaving do the night before and mucho juniper juice was consumed.

Look, someone stole my neck!!

We're now into November and I've still clueless about what I want to do for the rest of the year. I'm still half-heartily training for an imaginary 10K. And the most I've run since RAW is 15 miles. I don't lack motivation, just direction.

Back to the future

2010-10-13T21:18:00.003+01:00

For reasons which escape me, I've gone full-circle and I'm now training for a 10K. I'm not sure which 10K yet, but it will/could be sometime in November. That's even if I do a 10K. Let's just say, I lack direction just now. But I kinda like it that way for a bit.

I'm following (ish) Mark Johnston's - leader of Sonic's lunchtime group - training plan during the week. And just doing what ever takes my fancy at the weekend. Monday/Wednesday are speed sessions, Tuesday/Thursday are eight miles steady and there's an optional "strides" session at Glasgow Green on a Friday.

M 27/9 - 20min tempo + 6 x 200m [kelvingrove park]
W 29/9 – 10 x 2mins (1min) [kelvin]
M 4/10 – 6 x triangle hill sprint (continuous) + 2 x long hill loop (2 – 3mins)
W 6/10 – 5 x 6mins (90secs) [canal – kelvin]
M 11/10 – 15 x 1min brisk, 30sec steady (continuous fartlek) [kelvin]
W 13/10 – 5.5 mile tempo [canal – kelvin]
M 18/10 – 3 x killers [kelvingrove park]
W 20/10 – 5 x 1km (90secs) [glasgow green – grass and tarmac option]
M 25/10 - 20min tempo + 6 x 200m [kelvingrove park]
W 27/10 – 4 x 5mins (90secs) + 4 x 2mins (1min) [canal – kelvin]
M 1/11 - 6 x triangle hill sprint (continuous) + 2 x long hill loop (2 – 3mins)
W 3/11 – 3 x 12mins (2m30s) [canal – kelvin]
M 8/11 – 15 x 1min brisk, 30sec steady (continuous fartlek) [kelvin]
W 10/11 – 8,6,5,4,3,2,1min (90secs after 8 & 6 then 1min) [canal – kelvin]

Last week, I resurrected the Baby Jogger training. None of this faffing about running ultra-distances - time to get some really tough runs in. The Baby Jogger has been hiding in the garage since we moved house in March. Mainly because divvying up running time between us is not as difficult as originally anticipated and Cairn isn't exactly the daintiest of infants.

Last year, taking Cairn for a spin round the country roads of Alexandria was quite a joyous experience. If anything, tackling the undulating routes always kept the farmers entertained. Cruising through Knightswood doesn't have the same appeal. Granted I headed up to the canal path, but I had to pass the high-flats on Lincoln Avenue on the way. That raised a few eyebrows. I'm sure the observers would have muttered their opinions, if any of them could actually speak English.

On to the canal, the idea was to do six miles (three miles out and back). But my delightful son decided to drop his favourite blanket (the only thing he sleeps with) at the turning point, so I ended up doing 12 miles! I'm sure he was giggling like Mutley.

On Wednesday, I went out with the boys with the jet-propelled legs for the (as above) 5 x 6mins session. Dear god, I was practically on my knees by the end of it. Thursday night was 6 miles steady with the club. I wouldn't recommend doing this after a few glasses of wine at a work lunch.

On Saturday, I'd signed myself up for the West Districts Cross-country in Rouken Glen Park. In my defense, at the time I didn't realise it was a relay. That came as a bit of a shock. Not only was I running a cross-country race, but I had to RUN as my team position depended on it. In fairness, I think I was only there to make up the numbers, but it was quite daunting to see that every other Garscube girl was considerably faster than me. Considerably.

I've always kinda mocked cross-country. I've never quite understood how people could take it seriously. I'm not sure whether it was the shock from going from ultra-training to racing 2.6 across muck, but I was well and truly f**ked. I literally thought my eyes were going to pop. As I lay sparked out on the grass, I vowed never to mock cross-country again. Respect.

Jill (18.50), Ailsa (18.42) and I (20.04) finished 15th overall.

Team shot above. Cairn and Dr Crazy German below.

Click here for full results, if you're remotely interested.

On Sunday, I took part in Milburn Harriers 10 (and a wee bit) mile handicap race. The course follows the Balloch Horseshoe, which is one of my favourite routes. I love the rolling country roads and amazing views. I could have easily talked myself out of the race if it wasn't for that fact. Plus, Sonic had gone out on the hills with the Crazy German at 6am, to allow time to get to Alexandria to takeover Cairn watching duties. In true Consani fashion, he made it in the nick of time.

At my allocated starting time, I was set off with two Milburn blokes. They went belting off, like they were being chased by the Vale's finest. Great. Day-two of a weekend's ass-whipping. Fortunately for me, by mile three (and where the hills began) the gap was closing and I passed them both at mile four. I was glad I stayed steady at the start, as I felt great on the second half, picking off runners as I went. NB: This only ever happens to me on very long races or handicapped ones.

I fnished the 10.2 miles in 1:19:36, which I was quite pleased with. Especially considering the cheeky hills. Splits ( 7:48, 7:52, 8:52, 8:03, 7:58, 7:53, 8:00, 7:16, 7:07, 7:55, 7:18) Average 7:52m/m

Cairn's debut performance

2010-10-06T20:05:00.010+01:00

The Wee Nessie - for pre-school kids - as part of the Loch Ness Marathon and Festival of running.

Before you report us to the appropriate authorities, please note this was just a bit of family-fun.

Who's dulcet tones do you hear from the crowds?

Given the wet conditions, this could have doubled-up as his first cross-country race.

Not such a RAW deal after all

2010-09-24T08:24:00.001+01:00

I made no secret of the fact that I wasn't up for the River Ayr Way (RAW) Race. I was only in it to complete the four races required to qualify for the Scottish Ultra-Marathon Series.

I had my eye on fourth position, which would mean the 1st lady vet. I know, I'm a bit of a charlatan considering I had only just turned 35 when I did my first race this year. And the organisers are changing it to 40 for next year.

After a disastrous training run on the route two weeks before the race, I just had to screw my head on and get to the end.

The first 20 miles - of the just shy of 41 mile - I was a bit up and down, but after I left the Catrine checkpoint I felt reborn. The miles just kicked off and I really enjoyed the last 20 miles. Weird, eh?

It was by far my favourite race this year. The first, The Highland Fling - I blew up. The West Highland Way Race - well, it's 95 hilly miles. Enough said. The third, the Devil o' The Highlands - was just nasty from the start and then I fell running full pelt down a hill. RAW was the way I liked to feel during all races. Maybe it was the conservative start. Or maybe I ate so much the day before I should have really turned at the end and ran back to try and burn it off.

JK basically wrote my race report for me, so click here for the full account.

I got the points I needed to take 1st lady female...just. I didn't realise how close it was until the awards ceremony. My 1617 to Gail Murdoch's 1616. Thankfully most of the races are on trail, as Gail would run circles round me on the road.

The biggest challenge was trying to get my shoes on for the SUMS ball. My feet were soaked within one mile of starting the race, so my blisters had blisters.

Congratulations to all who completed the series. Especially Sonic who finished third in a hugely competitive field.

1st male Grant Jeans
2nd Jack Brown
3rd Marco Consani

1st female Lucy Colquhoun
2nd Sharon Law
3rd Jamie Aarons

1st male vet George Cairns
2nd Thomas Loehndorf
3rd Gavin Harvie

1st female vet Debbie Martin Consani
2nd Gail Murdoch
3rd Rosie Bell

1st male supervet John Kennedy
2nd Bill Hutchison
3rd John Kynaston

1st female supervet Elaine Calder
2nd Marion McPhail
3rd Jane Grundy

The (less) grand finale

2010-09-16T08:23:00.002+01:00

Wow! Has it been that long since my last post? And I haven't got that much to say. I've made a half-arsed attempt at training for the River Ayr Way Race this Saturday. I'm only doing it to make up the fourth event to qualify for the Scottish Ultra Marathon Series. I'm guessing the majority of the field are in the same frame. I'm kinda cursing my DNF at the D33 now, but needs must.

So what's been happening over the last month? Still can't believe it's been almost a month since my last drivel-session. Well, I recovered fairly well from the Devils race - once the bruising and swelling had gone down and I could bend my knees again. I'll never again underestimate the importance of fully functioning knees when looking after an exuberant toddler.

Then there was the trip to Chamonix to support the troops on various races on the Tour du Mont Blanc circuit. Anyway who follows ultra running will know all the races were stopped/suspended/re-arranged. A lot of whw blogs have gone into detail, but I'll spare you. Despite only being on the sideline, it did put a bit of a damper on the holiday. Quite literally, courtesy of the monsoon conditions.

Here are some pix of the sun shining.

When it raining, it was bloody awful. Especially in a region that's so geared up for outdoor activities.

The morning the CCC started, the GM and I ran from Chamonix to Les Houches and I don't remember ever being that soaked. No wonder there so many who bowed out of the race - even before it was eventually stopped for less-able runners.

Thanks to the Crazy German for providing a comedy lifeline and DNF-ing at 5K. Although he maintains "it was six!". After he successfully completed the WHW on this third attempt, I've been a bit low on the ground on mocking material. Thanks, CG, for taking one for the team. The Courmayeur 5K will always have a special place in my heart :-) The comedy highlight was the night the UTMB started. Whilst running to a restaurant to escape the torrential rain, the GM shouted "Come on, Thomas. We'll get you up to 10K today".

Let's just say, I better not DNF this weekend.

I've been lucky enough to cover the full course on two training runs, so I've ironed out the logistical nightmares. I just need to find my mojo.

Speak of the Devil

2010-08-18T08:26:00.003+01:00

The Olympic Creed is one of my favourites: "The most important thing is not to win but to take part, just as the most important thing in life is not the triumph, but the struggle. The essential thing is not to have conquered, but to have fought well."

Well, my participation in the Devil o' the Highland (43 miles from Tyndrum to Fort William) was a struggle and a mini-triumph.

Despite my own mini-triumph in the WHWR seven weeks prior, I felt I had recovered well and was more than up for the race. To be honest, I was probably a little more top heavy on positive thoughts than I was on talent.

The race commenced with the usual pre-race briefing and bang on 6am we were off. The instant incline is always a bit of a lung warmer. You can tell ultra-distance running is becoming much more competitive, as the first few miles were a little more frantic than I remember.

The route to Bridge of Orchy was pretty uneventful. I'd settled into 5th/6th girl place by the time I'd reach the first back-up point. The lovely Allybea had "volunteered" to support and the aim was to pass through checkpoints as quickly as possible, so I grabbed a bottle of Lucozade and a gel and headed up the hill.

A few folks were running up the hills and although my heart was itching to follow, thankfully my legs were refusing point blank.

The highlight of the race was the views on descent into Inveronan. The sight of the mist over the water was nothing short of magical. It's just a shame that the arrival into a midge hellhole cancelled out all that beauty. Heading up the Drover's Road was pretty tortuous. The long precession of twitching, cursing runners must have been quite comical.

I was fuelling up on the mass consumption of midges, which was just as well because (as bloody usual!) I couldn't face food. All the way across Rannoch Moor, I felt really queasy and threatened to puke. There was nothing in me and was continuously overtaken, so by the time I had hit the ascent out of the Moor I had sunk back to 8th (lady) position. In my head I knew I would catch a few on the downhills, but my heart was jittery at the prospect dropping back so much.

I possibly passed five runners on the one mile descent to the ski centre, clocked in and headed off to Kingshouse to meet Allybea. I actually thought I was going to pass out en route. It was definitely one of those seeing-stars moments.

Quick fluid top and a wee cheeky caffeine shot and life was a little rosier. I still had to dig in to get to the top of Devil's Staircase. But I shouldn't have had to dig so early on. Well, 3-4 hours in. Maybe it was the comedy value of watching the gals in front tearing up the hills that cheered me up. Or the super-smiling twins cheering at the summit. Even if their kind offer of sweets and chocolate nearer sent me over.

Over the top and off I went. Within a mile or so I had passed quite and few guys and gals. The warrior within had stirred and I had moved up to third lady. I was flying. And on the final stretch going into Kinlochleven, I quite literary was. At the steep bit just by the pipeline, I tripped. Not quite sure of the sequence, but I took the knees out of my compression tights, skint my hands, rolled and banged my shoulder and hip...and ended up splat on my back on top of my bottle belt. And as if I wasn't feeling uncomfortable enough, my calf cramped. So there I was in star-shape on my back with my leg at a 90 degree angle and all I could think about was not losing any places.

I managed to pull it together, although I arrived in Kinlochleven a little shaky. Even Pete's fist shakes and shouts of "you're a warrior" seemed a bit out of context considering I was hobbling and bleeding. When I met Allybea I was wiping blood and mud of myself and cursing the "f-king road-runners" that I had to stay ahead of.

I passed another two blokes up to Lairig Mor. Instead of the notorious soul-sucking ability the Lairig Mor was array with smiling walkers, who cheered me and shouted encouragement when I passed.

I could see the Gibbering Midget (2nd lady) about a mile in front most of the way across, but I knew I'd never catch her. And I was pretty certain that nobody would catch me, so I took the foot off the gas and just concentrated on sustaining my position for the SUMS points.

I'd winded myself when I landed on my back during my fall, so I could only manage shallow breaths. My hands and knees were stinging and I was generally willing it be over. Lundarva came and went with a change of shoes and a bottle of coke. Thankfully Alison and Caroline confirmed I was third lady - as the medic on the Mor told me I was 5th!

To be honest, I don't really remember must about the final journey to Fort William. Other that hurting, moaning and generally spitting the dummy. I pretty much walked the last mile from Braveheart carpark, as - quite literally - even breathing hurt.

There was no joyous finale, I just crossed and slumped on the grass. I had kept my position and finished third lady and 19th overall in a time of 7:23. Slower than last year by about 15 minutes, but hey-ho, it was less upbeat and slightly more dramatic.

Thanks to Alison for top-notch back-up and to all those who organised the race and helped out.

Congratulations to all who conquered and all who fought well.

If you can't beet 'em, join 'em.

2010-08-05T20:25:00.000+01:00

If the latest news reports are anything to go by, then drinking beetroot juice can "boost stamina and help people exercise for up to 16% longer"

"Apparently a UK University team found nitrate contained in the vegetable leads to a reduction in oxygen uptake - making exercise less tiring. The researchers believe their findings could help people with cardiovascular, respiratory or metabolic diseases - and endurance athletes". The research was conducted on a group of cyclists and suggested that drinking half a litre of beetroot juice a day for a week enabled them to cycle 16 per cent longer before getting tired out. They found that drinking beetroot juice doubled the amount of nitrate in the blood of volunteers, and reduced the rate at which muscles used their main source of energy...or something of that ilk.

Do I buy it? Kind of. Will I try it. Hell, yeah.

I know a few folks - none who of whom are sane of mind though - who have embraced these findings and are necking the stuff by the bottle. Obviously the Subversive Runner skimmed passed the bit in the research that says it works best with regular TRAINING and a healhy diet.

Well, I've been regular drinker since way back last Sunday. It's not too offensive. Really it's like drinking the juice out of a jar of beetroot. I don't really know why I thought it would taste any different from that.

Sonic has been consuming too. Not purchasing, just consuming. He followed his first trial by saying he'd "rather drink his own pish". Subsequent glasses of the fine beet later and he informed me he thought he's "shat a tampax". Readers of his sporadic blogging will know he's fairly graphic in the details of waste disposal regardless of the amount of times I tell him: "I don't do toilet chat".

One thing for sure is that our "pet" mice won't be jumping on the wagon. The last moose aboot the hoose managed to work its way through a lucozade gel and half a bar of tablet before trapping itself in the dust bin. When Sonic took it down the street to its new home on the green I was standing on the street shouting "You can't take it all the way down there. What if its family live in our garden. Have you not seen American Tail" Which was met with my rendition of Somewhere Out There.

Anyway, now we've got another mouse...

Kilpatrick Hills

2010-07-31T20:58:00.006+01:00

Did my last long-ish run before the Devil's this morning. Kilpatrick Hill circuit is now my pre-race ritual.

We had a freelance photographer following us, as he's putting together a portfolio on ultra running. More specifically for the build up to the Devil's race.

Nothing really to report, I just like this picture that Sonic took. The best thing about Scotland is having such fabulous hills and trails within minutes of the city.

Warriors!

2010-07-29T21:54:00.000+01:00

I did my last (oh and second) run for the Devil's last weekend. Two weeks ago I ran Tyndrum to Kingshouse and on Saturday there I covered Kingshouse to Fort William.

Lord knows I don't need to familiarise myself with the route. It's second only to my daily commute. But somehow, it my strange little world, it seemed like a good idea to do the full route as two training runs.

Cairn got to spend the day with Gran, so Sonic and I could run together - but, you know, no where near each other. We met up with Tim and Ross and hoped to catch up with Sue and Mandy en route.

One of the main reasons for this run, was to try out the terrain in road shoes. I've always worn trail shoes. It's ok for the first few miles, but I didn't have the same confidence coming off the Devil's Staircase. OK for holding back on the quad-knackering pace, but I was putting on the "brakes" which would made it worse. Didn't help that I was chasing down three boys - two of whom were trying to stick with Sonic. Actually Sonic was being rather reserved. So reserved in fact that we actually got to Kinlochleven only metres apart, which made me think he wasn't taking it seriously enough. Or maybe it's role reversal!

I think it's the one and only time that I didn't bomb on the soul-zapping Lairig Mor. I caught up with Ross about half-way. He's about eight foot tall, so got up the hills in about five steps. He was suffering with vaious ailments from the week before's Clyde Stride. Imagine! So I dropped him and pushed on.

I got to Lundarva in three hours dead, and then had an overwhelming urge to beat my time from last year (I did this route two weeks before too). A wee bit of tablet and Red Bull shot (you can take the girl out of Glasgow...) and I was re-born.

I was trying to keep steady, but ended up pushing more that I probably should have. There may or may not have been a wee bit of warrior chanting going on. I finished in 4.08, so six minutes faster than last year.

So, yep, all good. Nice wee confidence booster. Shame I've knackered my quads in the process. Coming down the stairs this week has been a bit nippy.

I've had few good swims and a couple of rubbish runs. Yesterday I did a session of one minute intervals to try and get the ol' trunks moving. And tonight it's an out-and-back with the club, which essential means running like the clappers for a few miles. Turning around and running like the clappers on the way back.

I'm loving swimming right now. I started in April (ish) when I could just about muster two lengths of front crawl. Yesterday, I did 52. My ultimate goal is to some day (far, far away) do an Ironman Triathlon. I think I've got the running bit covered and the swimming is in progress. But I'm lacking in the cycling discipline. Unless of course you count my one and only cycle of 2010, when my main goal was not to get hit by a car. So, I've started reading about Ironman Triathlons. I nearly keeled when I found out it was 112 miles on the bike. WTF? Maybe I should have found this out before my crazy thoughts went on overdrive.

Back in the real work...Work has been pretty adventurous. What I love about newspapers is that no two days on the job are the same. This week I've been dealing with our Everyday Heroes project. I got the pleasure of phoning Mark Cooper to tell he had won the Sporting category. Mark completed 50 marathons (Amsterdam to Barcelona) is 56 days to raise over £30,000 for the charity that helped his late Mother. He's a super nice guy and was really overwhelmed by his award. No stranger to a challenge he's also setting out this weekend to break the Hadrian's Wall record - hoping to cover 84 miles in less than 17 hours. When I told Sonic of this feat, I could see his crazy thoughts going into overdrive...watch this space.

Following on from my conversation with Mark, I spoke to a one-legged man who asked if he could call me back as he was going out for a four-hour swim and didn't want to miss the tide. What a humbling experience that was. Note to self: Must stop moaning about sore quads.

Clyde Stride

2010-07-17T19:24:00.012+01:00

I'll leave the official blog reports to Mrs MacPirate (Race Director), the Subversive Runner (her bitch) and all the fabulous starters and finishers who took part in today's inaugural Clyde Stride 40. No doubt everyone has their own stories to tell.

Only in ultra racing could a course be describe as "too short and too flat" in a negative way. Only over such a distance could the winner take a FIVE MILE detour and still come in first. And the lead lady stop to help a lost dog and chap on a door to ask for directions. It's all part of the adventure.

I helped out at the start and then supported the Gibbering Midget and took lots of photos on the way (well, of anyone who was before and slightly after the GM!).

Click here for race pictures.

The Gibbering Midget ran with the super-smiley Jamie Aarons most of the way. Check this out, her ears were actually bleeding at the end.

Just kidding, she collided with a tree branch. I shouldn't joke as I've since heard she had to make a trip to A&E for a couple of clips as the bleeding wouldn't stop. Remember what I said about everyone having their own race story.

Well done y'all. Especially Mrs Mac. It was a pleasure to be a part of it...and even more so being on the sane side of the fence.

A Wee Devil

2010-07-16T22:29:00.000+01:00

Last weekend I had my first post-race outing on the West Highland Way. In preparation for the fast-approaching Devil o' the Highland Race (August 7) I did the first half of the course from Tyndrum to Kingshouse.

Sonic and Cairn had "volunteered" to come along, with the view to Sonic running back from Kingshouse to Bridge of Orchy. Leaving poor little Cairn to play team relay baton again.

It went fairly well. Legs good, breathing good, hills not too taxing. I pretty much ran all of the way apart from the hill out of Bridge of Orchy. Times fairly similar to where I was last year. All in all I was quite pleased. Also quite pleased when it was over too (see attached video)

Then it was Sonic's turn to go. Donning one of those outfits that only ultra-runners would deem acceptable for public viewing - complete with Skins and knee-length compression socks. I took great delight in mocking him about his hairs sticking through his socks. Bit of banter back and forth and I nipped it in the bud with a sentence I hope never to use again: "I don't give a f**k what Richie does, you're not shaving your legs".

And here's Sonic playing about with his new iphone. Unfortunately for Cairn, he takes after me and goes bright red when he's hot.

Other stuff

Sunday: 12 mile walk with Cairn. He was in his buggy, before you call the Social
Monday: 4 mile walk + 50 lengths of the pool
Tuesday: 8 mile with 5 mile tempo (7.24, 7.25, 7.32, 7.29, 7.18 ave 7.26)
Wednesday: 5 mile with 6 x 500m reps
Thursday: Club run. 8m with 2 x 2 mile intervals. Killer! 7.17, 7.07 recovery jog and then off again 7.20, 7.03
Today: 50 lengths of the pool.

Yesterday I went to see the Polish Ambassador of Deep Heat to assess the damage in my legs. Not to bad...until he found a knot in my hamstring, which he would not give up on. There was a fair amount of colourful language used. At one point I thought he was going to have to drag me by my ankles to get me back on the table. It's got to be good for you, eh? Because it certainly isn't pleasant.

The Daily Mail Song

2010-07-06T23:15:00.000+01:00

As a humble servant of Her Majesty's Daily Mail, this appeals to my sense of humour.

Ready Steady Cook

2010-07-04T20:19:00.009+01:00

It's been a while since I had been at club training, due to a combination of recovering from the Fling, the Polaroid races being on Thursday nights and tapering for the WHW.

Since the arrival of Cairn, I do most of my training on my own, so it's always nice to have some company. The session was billed as a steady seven miles, so I thought that was do-able. Quite a hilly route, but manageable (ish) at a steady pace. If only someone had turned down the heat. Steady pace was fine, legs were fine (ish) but after four miles I thought I was going to spontaneously combust. Giving the shade of my fellow runners' faces and the lack of chat, I think it was the general consensus.

It was probably one of the few times I actually welcomed a post-run ice bath.

Yesterday, I did the Kilpatrick hill route with the Gibbering Midget. I always maintain hills are a good tester for fitness and general physical well-being. I'm glad to report, we were pleasantly surprised. A bit of edging-each-other-on in the last few miles and I'm sure we got a route PB.

Cairn and I spent a leisurely afternoon in Largs with my Mum and Sis. Cairn was very excited about seeing the ferry. Shame he wasn't so excited about going back into his buggy. Public toddler tantrums can really test your general mental well-being.

Today, I did a 4.5m easy from the house. My legs felt like someone had put bricks in my shoes and my ankles are still dodgy, but thankfully it got better as the run went on.

Life after death

2010-07-01T23:30:00.000+01:00

Although I don't think I'd take my chances with a three-legged donkey right now. Unlike this crazy fool. Click on pic below.

I took a few days off after the race. Swam or walked every day to try to keep things moving. I'm not sure what things, but I remember someone gave me this advice once! :-)

I went for a 4.5m run on Saturday afternoon, which wasn't pretty. I left the house and trotted along the street feeling quite light and fresh, until I hit an incline and my legs turned into a bag of spanners. It was quite muggy, which certainly didn't help. But hey, I was glad to get the first run over with as that the real tester. No damage, just generally tightness and my ankles still feel a little dogdy.

Sunday morning I did another 5 miles. I'd left my car in Bearsden after a BBQ the night before, so it was a good excuse to run out and get it. The route was fairly hilly, but I felt OK. Thankfully the morning was consirably cooler than the previous afternoon.

Tuesday lunchtime I tried a tempo (5m ave 7.29m/m). Maybe not the wisest choice, but there's only so much plodding about you can do. Started out quite rusty, stopped for a quick chat with JK, picked-up in the middle, really struggled with the heat and ended up with a face like a Halloween cake. So much so, that the folks in the office kept asking me if I was feeling OK all afternoon.

Still alive after ninety-five

2010-06-25T21:18:00.008+01:00

I know it's been nearly a week. I know you've read more than your fair share of race tales and I know JK has blogged 12 times, produced a video, slideshow, results spreadsheet and an updated all time list...but here's my version.

We arrived in Milngavie just before midnight. I registered, got my weight card and met with Kas, who had "volunteered" to do the nightshift.

The race start is quite an experience. It's only once a year, on the longest day, that the sleepy suburb of Milngavie is awoken to the sights of a kilted-man standing on top of car shouting instructions and rules to hundreds of people in skin-tight clothes, knee-high socks and startled eyes under head torches.

Bang on 1am, we were off. 95 miles over rough terrain in the Scottish Highlands. Senses alert. Eyes firmly focused on the dimly lite trail ahead. The smell of fear and apprehension. The deafening sound of silence, with only the faint muttering of a few nervous runners and the swishing of bottle packs and rustling jackets.

The first section definitely sets apart the men from the boys, so to speak. The latter go tearing off, frantically weaving. With the slightly more sensible smug in the knowledge that it's not going to last. Running through Mugdock Park, there was a bloke on my left shoulder panting like he was hyperventilating. I wanted to tell him that he was possibly going off too fast, but couldn't. I'm not sure whether I didn't want to come across as arrogant or I didn't want to ruin my chances of putting him into the ground later. I never did find out who he was.

A few miles later, I ran with Jason for a while and then Rosie Bell - last year's second female - trying to keep as steady and easy as possible. I know I'd gone off too fast in The Fling, which is ok (ish!) for 53 miles, but would be detrimental for 95.

I had bought a new head torch a few days before the race. A Petzl Myo. Obviously because I only used the one I bought last time (Petzl Tikka) three times and I hadn't quite spent enough money on the race!! But wow, what a purchase it was. I was even using my torch to help light the way for Rosie.

At the 10 mile mark, Helen Johnson caught up and the three of us chatted and enjoyed the pending sunrise before arriving in Drymen just before 3am. I waved off a top-up of supplies and kept going. I felt quite bad getting Kas to meet me there, but we both knew it was only for emergencies.

I passed a few and lost a few runners on the way to Balmaha. Including a Dutch guy who was already annoyed with the hills. It always bewilders why so many Dutch people (from the land no hills) come over for the WHW. It must be the national form of self-harming. Or many it's corporal punishment.

I continued to chat with Jason and we passed Drew. Boys will be boys and they hooked up and pushed each other on up Conic Hill. I took it easy on the uphill and more so on the downhill. I couldn't afford to take the same tumble I did during the Fling.

Quick top up in Balmaha and it was on to my second least favourite section of the race. Thankfully I had company to keep me entertained. And lots of cheers from Team Kynaston to keep me going.

Regular readers may remember the drama when I "nearly died" when I got lost in waist deep snow earlier in the year. Well, I was following kicked-steps. Sonic had met the step-kicker (a more equipped runner) en route to save me. And that random runner was Dave - who appeared behind me en route to Rowardennan and introduced himself. Fours hours later and he probably wished I had died on Conic Hill, as I was close to killing his ears. Hey, anything to take the focus off the legs.

I really enjoyed the section from Rowardennan to Beinglas. It was a gorgeous morning and the views over the loch were amazing. It wasn't without drama though. Before Inversnaid, I noticed there was a stream of blood down my shin and attached to that stream was a little black slug-like creature. I flicked it off and more blood spluttered out. Could there really be leeches in Scotland?

I was glad to run into Beinglas Farm. The stargate of the WHW. Reaching the end of the bridge is like stepping into a new world. Life always begins after Beinglas, doesn't it? Even though it's not even half-way. I replenished supplies, changed my shoes and headed up and up and up.

At the previous checkpoints I'd lost Aileen (last year's third place) at Balmaha and Rosie (last year's second) at Rowardennan, but I had no idea whether they were in front or behind. In the back of mind, I was still chasing them. When heading towards Coo Poo Junction (near Crianlarich) I saw a red and a yellow top (colours both donned by aforementioned girls)in the distance. That certainly put a spring in my step. I passed seven blokes - two of thom overtook me again later - and discovered the colours I was chasing was neither girls.

Heading towards Auchertyre, the sun was coming out in full force. I reached the farm and was greeted with lots of cheers. After getting weighed (I'd dropped 0.5kg) I changed back into my road shoes, as the inside of my foot was aching with the lack of support. I didn't want to stop as I wanted to take some time to meet the girls who were taking over from Kas in Tyndrum.

(Heading into Tyndrum with Dave and his sore ears!)

Food wasn't going down so well, so I put in an order for smoothie and cold Irn-Bru. Yep, you can take the girl out of Glasgow, but not Glasgow out of the girl.

Out of Tyndrum the headwind was quite forceful. I was starting to walk the hills and run the downs. I could feel a nice blister forming, but knew I'd scheduled in a sock and shoe change at Bridge of Orchy. I was pretty much on my own for this section, apart from a hiker who insisted on telling me about his double hip transplant. Charlotte had run up to meet me, but I was paranoid about support runner rules, so sent her on.

I checked in at Bridge of Orchy and tried to deal with the burning blister. Kas was in charge of plasters and asked me where the blister was, to which I replied: "Eh, the one you can see from space!" which she greeted with a slap round the back of my head.

Into my third change of footwear - my trail shoes - and it was up the Orchy hills. It's just a short two mile section, so it was nice to run with just a bottle in my hand - free of a belt. Mark was still there tagging on, and I apologised for the fact that he had to stare at my butt for so long.

At the top of the hill we were greeted with a smiling Murdo, who was flying a flag and dishing out jelly babies. He told me I was in 23rd position and 5th lady.

I usually love running off the hill down to Victoria Bridge, but this time I had to take it quite easy. Not because my legs hurt, but because my brain hurt. I couldn't get my eyes to focus and register on the path ahead. Mark went hurtling ahead and I sauntered on down to meet my crew.

Loaded up again and with my ipod for company, I embarked on the Drover's Road up to Rannoch Moor. I had downloaded three new albums for moments like this, but then discovered I forgot to transfer them from itunes. Doh!

I passed Mark again, following the JK attack of hills. I ran for 50 breaths and walked for 20 all the way up to the Mor. I was bursting for an overdue comfort break, so I had to gain some distance on the slowing Mark and the fast-approaching Kenny. I managed to find a big rock and spare everyone's blushes.

Although I had eaten quite regularly since the start, I knew I wasn't taking on enough. Just small flapjacks, tablet and mini bars of chocolate. All of a sudden I was ravenous and bonking. I only had a few miles to go until the ski centre checkpoint, but the hill out of the Moor took everything I had. Charlotte and Jill had run up to meet and a mumbled something about bonking/need food/anything. Charlotte - who had become the team go-for, well that's what she gets for earning herself an elite women's place in London Marathon! - was off like a shot.

Quick refuel at the (unnecessary detour!)at the ski centre and Charlotte the Go-for ran down with me to the A82. My lovely midwife, Lesley was cheering me on. I still find it quite funny that her husband is part of this scene. It doesn't seem that long ago that she was cheering encouragement for a completely different reason.

I passed through Kingshouse and on to the Devil's Staircase. I could see two white t-shirts (one of which was Dave's) and a dark one in front of me, but as usual I lack the competitive steak along with the inclination to care.

Heading into Kinlochleven, I was fading rapidly. I had to shout a runner who had gone off in the wrong direction. He started ranting to me about lack of signposting and I somehow wished I'd left him! The cheers through the town really pulled me together. Although I could have done without another detour to the checkpoint.

Arriving, I met Peter Duggan. Forget the race camaraderie, he nearly fainted when he saw me. Apparently he thought he "buried" me 50 miles back. Pah! You were confusing ambition and capability there, Pete. I thought I felt bad, but he bent over and gaunt like Gollum! Mentally he was razor sharp and hell-bent on beating me. Shame I didn't know about this driving force until after the race.

It was lovely to see the Pacepushers at the checkpoint and slightly nerving to see Dr you-will-die Ellis. I had to whisper my request for painkillers, whilst devouring the best sandwich I'd ever tasted. I probably hung about a bit too long - although I was prancing about to stop my legs from ceasing - as I was dreading the Bermuda Triangle that is the Lairig Mor.

Any then it was on to my FIRST least favourite part of the West Highland Way. The dreaded Lairig Mor. Even before I started the climb, I was exhausted by the mere thought of it. The ascent wasn't so bad, but I stumbled across like I had been shot. My muscles felt ok, but my ankles were suffering on the rocky path. But hey, it was always going to hurt. It's a very hilly 95 mile run, not cocktails on the beach.

I was half-heartedly using JK's splits throughout the day. I was sitting somewhere between 20 and 21 hours, but losing time rapidly. Thankfully Lundarva appeared quicker than normal (or maybe I just think that now). I passed a runner, who was resigned to walking and then the beautiful vision that was my crew came into view. I shouted ahead to get my road shoes to discover my voice was breaking, which was a bit of a shock. Charlotte the Go-for was charged with getting my shoes from the car, whilst Kas screamed at her to hurry up, Emma snapped with the camera and Jill expressed her delight in seeing me in daylight and on the same day.

Just seeing the gals lifted my spirits and hearing their cheers spurred me. Up the hill, round the corner and there was the mighty Ben Nevis. Despite numerous training runs, I always love the sight of the (even in June) snow-patched mountain. Although I can never get my head round why - if Fort William is at sea level - the route still continues to climb.

My ankles were a mess, but I just ran what I could. A few days before the race I had read in a book from my extensive running library that if you feel unmotivated or need to dig deep during a race, you should tell yourself you are a warrior. I know I will regret saying this, but going through the pine forests and onto the track I was hobbling and muttering "I am a warrior" over and over again. I know, WTF? Anyone catching a sight of this would think Pete was quite sane! :-)

I was continuously checking my watch , trying to get my brain to work out the distance and time. Just before Braveheart Carpark (which again appeared quicker than normal) Charlotte the Go-for appeared. I muttered a few expletives as a shuffled/jogged it in. In my best pathetic voice I told Charlotte: "I really want to get under 21 hours, but I caaaaaaaaaan't". Just before the entrance to the carpark, She just looked me straight in the eye and said in a matter-of-fact way: "You can do it". The rest of my crew were waiting as I'd asked them if we could all run the glory leg together. I'm not quite sure where it came from, but something snapped and I had a massive surge of energy. I was totally numb and focused, much to the amazement of my crew who were SCREAMING at me. Passing cars were were even beeping.

The funniest bit was Kas shouting that she couldn't keep up as she had been up all night, shouting "track" to Athole to get out of the way and Charlotte continuously reminding me the finish wasn't at the sign. I ran straight through the roundabout, along the pavement and into the carpark. My legs were moving too fast for my brain to register the parked cars, but I made it in time. 20 hours and 58 minutes and 36 seconds.

The female field was awesome this year, with the top three being under 20 hours. The Gibbering Midget was fourth (first last year) in 20:12 and I was 5th female. 20th overall.

It's all the support! Love my gals to bits.

Huge congrats to all who finished and all who postponed their success for another year. Sonic finished in 5th position in an amazing time of 18:47. Ritchie finally finished in pole position. The Crazy German FINALLY made it to Fort William on foot and finished just behind Sonic. Looking at the splits, I want a supply of whatever drugs he took in Fort William. JK had a brave fight, but has probably spent more time blogging than it took him to run. Thanks to everyone who put up with my drivel - Jason, Rosie, Helen, Gavin, Dave, Drew, Mark, Kenny and anyone else I've missed. Thanks to the committee, organisers, stewards, supporters and anyone who has made dreams come true.

I don't think I'll ever get another ten hour PB, so I'm just going to bask in this one for a moment...before sucking it up and getting into training for the Devils race in six weeks.

Ps: I pinched the first two pix from JK.

WHWR 2010

2010-06-21T16:02:00.001+01:00

Report, full results and pictures to follow...but in summary: Finished 95miles in 20 hours and 58 minutes. 5th female and 20th overall.

Pre-race rituals anyone?

2010-06-14T08:40:00.000+01:00

I usually just take two days off before the race. Hey, if it's good enough for Paula, then it's good enough for me. But prior to the last two good races (Devil's and the Fling) I've run the nine-mile circuit of the Kilpatrick Hills the weekend before. Given this morning's torrential rain and grey skies, I was tempted to just stick to the roads. But would that be tempting fate? A ritual is a ritual after all.

So off I went. Me, myself and I. Zero visibility and even less in navigational skills. As I set off into the mist, I promised myself that if I started to get a bit sceptical about the route, I would turn back. I know I've done the circuit a few times, but it's amazing how disorientated you can become in the mist. And lord knows I could do without the drama this weekend.

Being overly cautious about every step, kept me quite steady. Although the eeriness of it all made me want to push on. Even the sheep were freaking me out. When two runners appeared through the mist, I nearly keeled with shock. More so because they asked ME for directions.

Thankfully the faint path is more prominent than I remember. There were a few brief moments of panic, but all and all it was drama free. I was sodding wet and pretty cold, but at least I wasn't lost. Bonus.

So Kilpatrick Hill run? Tick. Now I just need step reps as my final session, a sports massage and two days of nothing.

What are your pre-race rituals?

I know JK does The Braes, WHWRunner and the Crazy German drive their long-suffering wives insane and Sonic (suddenly) develops a lactose intolerance - although he hasn't quite worked out that biscuits have dairy, but peanut butter doesn't.

The next step: Sobriety.

2010-06-10T07:26:00.001+01:00

That's me on the final leg of the taper. I've been on the wagon since Sunday. No more sanity-saving vino until after the race. Life may seem a little uninteresting, but I suppose sobriety is ok in moderation - for a cause.

Since our last chat, I've had two cracking runs on the WHW.

Kingshouse to Beinglas - Monday, May 31
30.8 miles. 5:25hrs.

Last Monday I was out with the Gibbering Midget. Kingshouse to Beinglas. We got the bus up and ran back. It was a lovely day, possibly a little on the hot side, and very busy. I always find running in the opposite directions to hikers a little disconcerting. So many eyes and not enough people to sneak up on.

The run to Bridge of Orchy was great, but I bonked on the way to Tyndrum. Not sure whether it was fuel, heat or pace, but it's quite nasty going the other way. At Tyndrum we chatted with a bloke who was walking the full distance from Landsend to John o' Groats. With all his gear. And a full charity collection box. That was my cue to TTFU. I gave him all the money I had, which forced The GM to buy my supplies of tablet and sports drink :-) Bing! After that, I was back on form.

We ran, walked, chatted, stop for sheep herding (obviously) and were generally quite chipper all the way over to the A82 crossover.

We embarked on a stomp up the steep hill, briefly chatting to the oncoming hikers. Until one unsuspecting fella said: "Should you not be running?". The GM half-jokingly tore half his ear off...and then went on about it for half an hour. Thereafter, anytime we saw hikers, she made me run up the hills. I was glad to get to the top of the Crianlarich, as I was burst.

(me using the photo opp as an excuse for a breather!)

Great downhill all the way to Derrydarroch and then it was back up again. When we hit the steep ascent, I suspected the worse when I saw a group of guys lounging on the grass verge. At the incline the GM slowed to a stomp, to which I said: "Phew! I thought you were going to go for it then." She replied: "Hell no, none of them were good-looking". Fair play. Hail! Hail! The ugly boys.

Arriving at Beinglas, we stopped to buy some water (again, courtesy of the GM) and walked over to Drover's Inn. I remembered my sports therapist had been banging on about leg raises after runs, so I promptly lay at the side of the road with my feet on the fence. I encouraged a reluctant GM to do the same. Little did I know she was going to sit on nettles. So within minutes so was jumping about, squealing and yanking at her hotpants - much to the enjoyment of passing motorists.

Kinlochleven to Fort William Saturday, June 5

This was the annual Garscube WHW relay race. The GM and I were doing the last leg in final preparation for next weekend's race.

It was a bit of a scorcher and I had watched the previous leg runner burst in the heat, so I was a bit nervous when it came to my turn. Did I tell you I don't cope well in heat??

The intial climb up to Lairig Mor was quite taxing - but the GM went off like a rocket. After a few miles I got into my rhythm and kept pretty much the same distance all the way to Lundarva.

I expected the Way to be packed - with hikers finishing after starting at the bank holiday - but it was empty. Only four rubbish mountain bikers that I kept passing on the ascents.

I struggled from Lundarva to the woods, as I had run out of fluids and was suffering in the heat. It was a walk/shuffle all the way until I hit the shade of the pine trees, when I got my second wind. Unfortunately this allowed the GM to really widen the gap. She finished in 2.25 and I was 2.33. I felt great and (in the words of JK)really enjoyed my run.
___________

So that's it folks. I did a wee tempo and some reps this week. Club run tonight. Possibly 10 miles at the weekend and some steps at the beginning of next week. Then it's game over. In the meantime I will continue with my sobriety. It's just a bit rubbish waking up the morning and knowing that's the best I'm going to feel all day :-)

Need some inspiration?

2010-06-02T23:44:00.000+01:00

The countdown begins

2010-05-28T22:51:00.000+01:00

Only three weeks to go, folks. I've pretty much done all I can, so now I just need to get myself mentally prepared. As Henry Ford once said: "If you think you can do a thing or think you can't do a thing, you're right". Never a truer word said.

So since we last spoke, it took me a while to get back my mojo back after the two day run. The mind was willing, but my legs told me to feck off.

We had the club "training" weekend in Callander last week. I took the conventional route and drove the 30miles with the car bursting at the seams. Sonic ran there. Go figure.

The weekend is always more social and less boot-camp. There's certainly more input (food and drink) and less output (running) for the duration. Big family feasts, late night drinking, bit of a sing-song and lots of chats.

My favourite conversations of the weekend were with Ladies Captain, Irish Maz and Men's Vice Captain, Joe.

Maz, dear sweet Maz, after years of running and leading trophy-winning ladies club teams into races finally (you could actually hear the penny drop) discovered the difference between the gun time and chip time. I kid you not, she actually wondered why the official time was always slightly faster than her watch time.

But Joe? Crazy, crazy Joe. To set the scene, there's a new whippet fast French guy who has joined the club. He has one of those accents, that you're not quite sure if he's putting it on. Anyway we were discussing what a great asset he is to the club, when Joe announced that he was welcoming him by speaking French to him. "Really, Joe, you can speak French?" To which he replied in the super-enthusiastic way that only Joe does: "Yeh, really". After I asked him what he had said to him he said "Je voudrais un baggette avec jambon and fromaige". No joke, he told him he would like a ham and cheese piece. WTF? No wonder the wee guy runs so fast.

Who would want to take time out and run when there's such great entertainment. And there was the small matter of the hottest day of the year. Not being a bit fan of running and heat, it was only my conscience that got me out. A nice easy five miler along the lochside.

On Sunday I ran on the cycle route from Callander to Aberfoyle. Great track with lots of cheeky hills to warm up the lungs. It's pretty much up and up. I was looking forward to the sharp down bits, but unforuntately I took the wrong turn and Sonic had to come and pick me up off the main road. Typical, eh? What goes up, must get lost.

Things have been a bit perkier this week. Good tempo on Tuesday (ave 7:22), 400m on the grass track on Wednesday morning and eight miles easy today.

My last long run with be on Monday - Kingshouse to Beinglas (31 miles) and then it's officially taper time.

Cairn's been sorting out the support vehicle.

Pièce de résistance

2010-05-20T23:12:00.000+01:00

That's it. I've completed my highest mileage week in preparation for the fast appropriately 95 miles of joy. Big tick. But after running 73 miles over two days, you would have thought I'd have slept like a log. No such luck, I was up at 3am reading blogs and faffing about on Facebook and Ebay. I even woke Sonic up to tell him about Mrs Mac's FB status about a runner on the Cateran Trail ultra who stopped at mile 46 for a coffee and a cigarette! Brilliant. Frustratingly post-long-distance-run restlessness is becoming part and parcel for me. After the Devil's last year, I had about an hour's sleep. It didn't help that my ankles felt like I done a round with Kathy Bates. I had a house full of insomniacs after the Fling and I was up and down most of last Saturday and Sunday night.

Does anyone else have problems sleeping after long hours of running? After a wee google search, here's the theory:

The physical and psychological stresses of training beyond your individual threshold may stimulate the sympathetic nervous system, leading to irritability and reducing the quality and quantity of sleep.

Yep, I'm none the wiser too.

Anyway, here's how my week went:

Tuesday: 8 miles with 5 mile tempo (7.31, 7.09, 7.12, 7.08, 7.02 ave 7.13)

Wednesday: 8 miles steady ave 8.28

Friday - Milngavie to Beinglas 41.5 miles.

Booked myself on the 3:30pm Citylink bus back. I Started about 6.30am - allowing myself nine hours to complete the route. I did it in 7:19 in the Fling, but was aiming for 8:30 as part of the two-day run.

I was slightly nervous about doing this run alone. Me. Alone. With only my thoughts. The Gibbering Midget and I had planned this weekend a few months ago, but she had to start early and do an out and back, as she had a hospital appointment for her Mum in the afternoon.

The GM was the only runner I met on the whole journey - just outside Drymen. It was quite comical, as we were pretty much wearing the same outfit. Black 2XU compression tights, black tee, Nike sleeves and Nathan backpacks. She was wearing her signatory black buff and I, of course, had a black cap. The ginger ninjas indeed. En route to Balmaha a wee man shouted "Hello again!" I had a wee chuckle when I thought he must have been thinking I'd tanned a shed load of jelly babies since our last encounter.

It was a fabulous morning for running. Bright and fresh. Here's the cracking view over Loch Lomond.

I was having a slight panic about the potential to getting burned when, right on cue, the torrential rain started. By the time I got to Rowardennan, you couldn't see the loch for grey clouds. You gotta love the Scottish weather.

Generally I had quite a good run. I'd be lying if I said I was over the Fling though. I'm glad I gave myself loads of time, so I could take a 15 minute break at Rowardennan and stopped to talk to a few elderly trekkers at Doune Bothy. After seven hours on my own, I was almost talking to the birds.

I finished in 8:29 (who says you can set your heart by my pacing?!). Plenty of time to wander round to Drover's, get sorted and catch the bus. Glad I booked the bus though, as it was packed. Felt sorry for the poor woman sitting next to me all the way back to Glasgow though, as after 41miles over the lochside, I smelt like a goat!

The GM called when I was on the bus - at the dodgy mobile signal bit(again to the annoyance of the woman next to me). We were both complaining about having to carry so much gear, so I mentioned that I was going to talk nicely to Sonic to see if he will support us on day two...then we got cut off. Back in range I got a text from Sonic saying "Sharon has texted to see if I will support you both tomorrow". You gotta love her :-)

Saturday - Beinglas to Kingshouse

And then there was day two. After the previous days's lonesome adventures, the GM and I were both glad of the company. And, of course, having Sonic and Cairn on support.

Driving up to Beinglas farm we saw a chap with two young boys who were dressed head-to-toe in hiking gear. I commented to Sonic that I hope Cairn turns out like that. Although after naming him Cairn he will probably rebel and take up Badmington or cricket or something. Heading up on to the track we had a brief conversation with the boys' Dad. I told him that I hope my son becomes an adventure-type and he said to check out their website. So here it is, Ryan Gosling - the youngest attempt at a Munro round.

And then we had to run. I knew I would be a bit rusty, but the whole run to Tyndrum was pretty nasty. Some drugs, coke and tablet at Brodie's and I was off. Knackered, but a bit more chipper. Ironically my best section was from Bridge of Orchy - courtesy of a Red Bull shot. You know you're an ultra runner when it takes you 20 miles to feel right.

Generally my legs felt ok. My quads were slightly trashed, but my glutes were the worst. I expected to finish with a Kylie bum, but given that most of pain was caused by the vibration of the jiggly bits, I knew that wasn't going to happen.

It true Scottish style we started the run peeling off layers in the heat and finished getting pelted with hailstones. Oh well a nice 7m/m finish into Kingshouse put some zip back into her legs.

And now for the sad bit...

Some readers may know the GM's Mum has been unwell for a few months. During our run on Saturday she had an operation. The GM made numerous calls throughout the day to check progress and got the all clear on the way home. Later that night, after the GM's visit, she took a turn for the worse and passed on Tuesday evening. I'm sure her Mum is catching up with her lost son and watching over her girl.

Just in case you thought I was becoming a serious runner...

2010-05-12T22:33:00.000+01:00

...Let me remind you how shallow I am. New pink shoes. Woohoo.

Not sure they're going to help me much with the small matter of a 75 mile (two-day) training run this weekend. But at least they'll match my face.

Glasgow Women's 10K

2010-05-11T08:54:00.001+01:00

Got myself a wee PB, so I did. 46.41. Nothing to write home about, or blog for that matter, so I'll just give you the brief facts.

Position: 201 out of nearly 11,000.

Splits: 7:12, 7:26, 7:24, 7:34, 7:49, 7:13, 6.51 (that's just for the last 0.29 though)

Report: My legs generally felt ok, until I hit a hill. See mile 4/5 above. That'll be the Fling effect. Or maybe because I'm used to walking and snacking on hills. That'll be the ultra-distance running effect.

Congrats to: Gibbering Midget for donning the Garscube vest, Dr CG for a kicking ass and being v colour coordinated, Mo and Anna for letting me look at their backs the WHOLE way, Debs G (20th)for reminding me why I don't join Johnston's Joggers, Linda K for a fab top 100 poisition, Mrs JK for showing JK and the little JKs how to do it..and to everyone to finished or helped make the event as amazing as it is.

Click here for more pictures. And here for results

Thanks for Sonic and Cairn for support.

Back in the saddle

2010-05-06T08:04:00.000+01:00

My main goal from the Fling was to recover quite swiftly and get back into training. After a few restless nights (damn adrenaline!), few days of achy legs and a couple of swims, I went back to club training on Thursday night. Let's just say it wasn't finest athletic performance. My legs felt OK, but they didn't feel connected to my body. I was stumbling, tripping and kicking my ankles - all things I do when I'm tired. Not sure whether I was trailing my feet more or the fatigue had effected my foot-eye coordination. For a bit of distraction, my breathing was way worse than my legs. I felt like I was running up hill, even though we were on the monotonous flats of the canal.

Thankfully I felt better towards the end. And on Saturday I had a great run with the Gibbering Midget. We started at Kinghouse and headed up passed the Glencoe Ski Centre. What started as a "let's take is very easy", moved on to a trot up the hills to a full-out race across Rannoch Mor. Both of us feeling quite sprightly. After a night of beer-guzzling in the Clachaig Inn, we weren't so sprightly on Sunday morning. My hangover was short-lived as I was thrown into the frenzy of a lively three-year-olds' birthday party at one of these crazy house play centres.

Monday I took an extra rest day as the family were coming over for lunch. It was just the kick up the ass we needed to get the house (almost) finished.

Tuesday was legs were twitching to go, so embarked on my usual southside tempo route. Two mile warm-up, followed by five at tempo and one for a wee cooldown. Splits: 7.37, 7.21, 7.17, 7.16, 6.59. Took a wee bit to get the ol' pins turning over, but did you notice I did a mile that began with a 6? Did you?

Yesterday morning I did 500m reps. 'Twas OK, but my legs felt it towards the end. Tonight I'm up at the club for a 6m steady, then two days of nothingness before the Women's 10K on Sunday. Talk about one extreme to the other. I can't say I'm overly bothered about it, I would just like to do it every year. Last year it was my comeback (post Cairn) race. If I can enjoy it half a much as I did last year, then I will be happy.