tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17807244783190939732024-03-13T08:21:27.324-07:00Ultra Running DiaryThe Deer Runnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08691843397271916672noreply@blogger.comBlogger182125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1780724478319093973.post-16170439839255557822019-05-25T06:19:00.001-07:002019-05-25T06:20:05.442-07:00Cateran hill race and Ultra<p dir="ltr">I took the Friday off work, more because of the hill race that evening rather than prepare for the ultra.<br>
I arrived at the Spittal in plenty time expecting to help the race organisers but all was done including marquee set up. <br>
This meant a relaxing afternoon chatting to early arrivals.</p>
<p dir="ltr">The forecast heavy rain started and I began to regret entering the hill race. I didn't expect such rubbish weather and only brought one pair of running shoes. It was cold and snow could be seen at the peak of the hill we were due to run, however, this was all training for the 6666.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Needs must though, I certainly wasn't going to back out now. Once in running gear and at the start, the sun broke through the clouds making perfect conditions for the 5 mile race.</p>
<p dir="ltr">The instructions from George were simple, follow the markers and I'll see you back here. At 1900 we were off (after pushing a car out of the muddy field). It's a rude start, a sprint along the road and straight onto the Cateran downhill finish, only we were going uphill. With no warm up my breathing was all over the place, running as much as possible then walking when it became too much. We passed Mike and Flora who were at the point of return when coming back off the hill. As it happens, Mike didn't see many runners return on the proper route as quite a few of us missed the markers on the hill.</p>
<p dir="ltr">The top of the hill is Lairig Gate then turn left and follow the crest of the hill. At this point runners were spead out, the runner in front of me was too far ahead to see and follow. There was a layer of snow and the mist moved in. I thought Lairig Gate was the peak but no, there was more climb ahead. I followed the footprints which whittled down to one set, not only that but there were no markers, I had missed the turning point. I stopped to chat to the runner behind, we decided to follow the one set of footprints down, they finally disappeared. Before long we could see the Cateran camp site way over to the left. From here it was every person for themselves as we headed back as the crow flies.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I managed to get back on the Cateran trail before crossing the finish line half a mile over the 5. This hill race turned out to be good fun, a one off as a thank you from the organisers to the marshals who have helped out at the Cateran over the years.<br></p>
<p dir="ltr">I wasn't sure how to do the Cateran, my PB was 11 hours 45 minutes but I didn't want to go after this. I wanted quality over speed in training for my main event in June. I decided to run as I felt, keep it comfortable and more importantly finish injury free.<br>
After a cold night the day was bright and clear, perfect for running one of Scotlands best long distance trails.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I ran with various runners, quite a few doing their first ultra distance. Don't take things too seriously, a reminder from marshals at various checkpoints in fancy dress and costumes. I was feeling exhausted and a bit low on approach to Blairgowrie before being escorted accross the road by a chicken, this sort of thing that brightened my day.</p>
<p dir="ltr">On exiting this checkpoint I bumped into a familiar runner, Minty. Perfect, good company which made the miles go by. We stuck together then was joined by Mike. Once again it was a perfect race, beautiful scenery, lovely weather and great company.</p>
<p dir="ltr">For the past 9 years I have been part of the Cateran Ultra in one way or another. Seven finishes, one DNF at the first double and one marshalling when injured 2017. George and Karen were organising the Cateran for the last time before handing the race over, I must admit to being a bit emotoinal on approaching the finish line. A finish routine would be good so all three runners decided to have an argument as to who crosses the line first before joining hands and crossing together.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Twelve hours 37 minutes, I'll take that as part of my build up to 6666.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Now I need to say thanks to George, Karen and the marshals for organising the superb Cateran Ultra.<br>
Thanks to Karen and George whom I first met in 2010 and encouraged me to enter the Cateran, the catalyst for me continuing to run ultras over the years. Enjoy your rest and I'll see you at future running events.<br><br><br><br><br><br><br></p>
The Deer Runnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08691843397271916672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1780724478319093973.post-74232448137993887742019-05-06T13:56:00.000-07:002019-05-06T13:56:03.725-07:0028 seconds.The Fling was my first event of the year and I was feeling quite good. So good that I found myself in the 10 to 12 hour starting pen for the race. I knew just over 12 hours was my PB, that was back in 2013, what I perceive to be my best year of running. Could I dip under 12 hours six years later? It would be a huge boost to moral with the 6666 fast approaching.<br />
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So off I went at a much quicker pace than normal, hoping to make time on the flat run to Drymen before hitting Conic. I ran between 9 1/2 and 10 minute miles, the rain forecast held off before inevitably arriving and soaking the field.<br />
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After Drymen, I continued to run uphill to the forest before walking some of the steeper slopes. <br />
Once at Conic a runner was following closely behind, time to test the hill training I thought. I felt strong climbing and passed about a dozen runners before descending to Balmaha. <br />
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A good start to the race but all was not well. A pain in my right heel had me limping out of the checkpoint and I wondered if it was going to be an early finish. Forefoot striking was painful so I was forced to flat foot strike to make progress. I decided to nurse the foot to Rowardennan and assess the situation from there.<br />
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Although in pain, I decided to hold off on the paracetamol, I wanted to make sure pain didn't spread to my achilles tendon which would disrupt future events. I needed to reduce my pace which was just as well, I felt tired after starting so quick. <br />
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At Rowardennan I decided to continue on, the pain remained in my heel so if I could just get to the finish like this it would be a good result. On the uphill out of Rowardennan I hooked up with another runner. Dave felt the same as me, started the race too quick and ran out of energy. The cold and wet conditions were not helping but someone to chat to made the miles go by.<br />
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The technical section was wet and muddy, this slowed us down even more but we soon made it to Inversnaid where I swallowed a couple of pain killers to see me through.<br />
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The conditions were miserable but the view from Darios post was as spectacular as ever. Once fed and watered at Bienglas I looked at my watch. Ten past three, 2 hours 50 minutes to get under 12 hours. It was going to be tight Dave and I agreed but we were not going to get stressed, we would just take it as it comes.<br />
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The Falls of Falloch were spectacular, in full spate with the wet conditions. A smooth new path at Cow Poo Alley sped us along to the roller coaster section before the last four miles to the finish.<br />
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It became obvious we weren't going to make it under 12 hours but it wouldn't be much over. I had it in my mind my PB was around 12 hours 2 minutes (I should have checked before the race). In fact, back in 2013 my PB was 12 hours 4 minutes and 37 seconds.<br />
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We were piped in to the famous Highland Fling red carpet finish. The brilliant team here took care of each and every runner, making sure all was fine and fetching hot drinks.<br />
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My chip time for the 2019 Fling? 12 hours 5 minutes and 5 seconds.<br />
I'll take it though, it means my fitness is back to what it was and gives me confidence for the big one in June.<br />
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Thanks to John Duncan and his team for yet another superb event, one not to be missed on the ultra calendar.<br />
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The Deer Runnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08691843397271916672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1780724478319093973.post-43578057212359033942019-04-14T01:54:00.001-07:002019-04-14T01:54:33.110-07:006666<p dir="ltr">I missed the D133, a virus threw a spanner in the works during the week leading up to the race. A bitter disappointment considering the training I put in over the winter. Well done to all who took on this event in such challenging conditions.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Missing my first race made me determined to look for a main goal for 2019. As posted before, I was undecided between east to west or the Grand Raid 6666. I can now report the Grand Raid won, hopefully I'll toe the line at 0600 on the 08th June.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Antoine Guillon is the race director for this 72 mile ultra, with 21,000 feet of ascent and 32 hours to complete, needless to say I'm feeling a wee bit apprehensive. With the southern French heat, this could make things very interesting for my first event outside Scotland.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Watching Youtube videos brought it home to just how relentless this race is. I'm aquainted with some of the route but not all. The start and finish is in the Orb valley, a place called Roquebrun. The route is circular passing through beautiful countryside and over the Caroux range of mountains.</p>
<p dir="ltr">So, challenges for me?<br>
Ascent and descent - I've done more hill training in the past couple of weeks than I have ever done, indeed, I am updating this blog at Bennachie before doing another 15 mile circuit and 5,000 ft of acsent. Videos show participants using running poles but I've never used or own a pair. Is it too late to practice with such aids? I'll have to decide soon if I'm to use them or not.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Heat- South France June, the temperature could hit 30 degrees, how on earth can I train for that kind of heat in the North East of Scotland considering I sweat excessively at anything above zero.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Navigation - I have the route downloaded on my Fenix 3. I don't know how well marked the course will be, I found out about this event a few years ago by finding an old marker tape out on the trails. Luckily I think the night section will be on trails I am familiar with.</p>
<p dir="ltr">So that's it for now, I'll update the blog on my progress as the event gets nearer.</p>
<p dir="ltr">PS. As far as I can tell, I think I'm the only participant from the UK to enter.</p>
The Deer Runnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08691843397271916672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1780724478319093973.post-66866794624301255032018-10-15T06:46:00.000-07:002018-10-15T06:46:36.535-07:00Tribute<span lang="EN">I’m not sure if blogs are as popular as they once were and with the hits on my introverted un-promoted musings already low, I was in two minds whether to resurrect this or not. Anyway, I am on holiday and with some time to spare, I’ll give some updates on my ultra running escapades albeit with one reader missing. <br />
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<br /><br />
As I write this I’m sitting indoors, the windblown rain is cascading down the window. Usually I’d be out on the trails with the sun beating down, soaking up the southern French scenery. We’re here during Autumn for the second year in a row. We’ve been lucky with the weather so far but with two days to go, wind and rain has moved in. My favourite trail run, a 13 mile round trip to Naudech was postponed due to mist, it’s now cancelled due to the storm, I won’t be at one of my favourite running places looking down on the valley this year. In case you are wondering, my blog picture was taken at Naudech during 2011. <br />
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So where have I been, where am I at and where am I going?<br />
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<br /><br />
Last year I had a new running partner, I began training with Lynne, we entered a couple of events together. 60 miles at Glenmore 24 and the Tunnel Trail Run at Peebles where we ran together, Lynne upping her mileage, me strengthening my ankle.<br />
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As my ankle recovered I went back to ultra events, Jedburgh and Glenogle to finish off the year.<br />
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I’ve not completed many long distance runs. It’s easy to look back and forget the dedication and training to complete two West Highland Way’s and one Cateran 110. There were DNF’s as well but the same amount of work went onto them as well as the successful finishes.<br />
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Lynne, Skye and various other friends and family supported me over these long distance attempts of course but there was one person who knew me better than the rest. She knew her “Loon” inside out, was there alert, diligent and ready at every checkpoint at every long distance race including the demanding Cateran 110, and I don’t mean demanding for the runner but demanding for the crew. <br />
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My mum took to ultra crewing like a duck to water, catering and welfare was a speciality, even dished out the boot of a car. She was a hard working woman, was married to a self employed husband and selflessly brought up five boys. <br />
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Heather was good hearted and enjoyed crewing my ultras, having a sixth sense and knowing what was required, from a change of socks to a couple of pain killers. The West Highland Way 2016 was the last event my mum crewed, a disappointing DNF at Glencoe where she knew her loon had had enough and was going to pull out. <br />
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<br /><br />
And now to December, a dark period of time and one of the reasons I’ve left my blog for so long.<br />
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My mother lived life to the full despite the cancer diagnosis. She had successive operations and always bounced back, her cheery and upbeat outlook in life seeing her through. <br />
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An admission to hospital where an operation was required, business as usual we thought, we were used to Heather taking things in her stride, thinking she would be out and back on her feet in no time. <br />
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It wasn’t to be, on 31<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">st</span></sup> December we lost the most kind hearted, generous, good natured, fun loving and caring person in the world.<br />
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2018, a year to recover from shock. I entered my usual familiar ultras, the D33, Fling, Cateran, Great Glen and G24. I didn’t run any of the races particularly well but was just happy to be fit enough to complete them, no matter what the time. I also crewed Wilson on his second successful completion of the West Highland Way.<br />
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Dramathon, Jedburgh and Glen Ogle on consecutive weekends will finish 2018 and leave a few months of winter training before a new season.<br />
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Decisions, decisions. The 2019 D33 has the option of D99, a farewell gesture from the race organisers, is the longest ultra race in Scotland. Then there’s the Stupid double, a 133 mile run to be completed within 31 hours. I’m holding back before entering this, I’ll decide towards the end of the year which race to enter depending on how my training is going.<br />
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Once again, I’m not entering the WHW. I have my eye on a race right here in southern France. The Occitane 6666 is a mountainous 72 mile ultra with 7,000 meters of climb. Held in June, I’m apprehensive due to the terrain and heat, both of which I’ve experienced while running in these parts. Participating in this one will be a logistical challenge due to limited holidays, flights etc.<br />
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What about my ultimate ambition? East to West Scotland remains on my wish list but don’t know if I’ll ever be fit enough. Family holidays take precedence over this so I hope it doesn’t become a pipe dream.<br />
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It’s time to bring this post to a close. I started this Blog back in 2011, partly to chart my first West Highland Way race and partly to allow my friends and family to follow my training and running adventures. My folks would diligently follow my posts, remarking on how well (or bad) things were going, the scenery and sometimes the posts involving family. <br />
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This post was always hanging over me, reminding me to pay tribute to my mother, just as I had to my father in 2015. So here it is, posted in my blog forever, I love you mum. <br />
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The Deer Runner. </span><br />The Deer Runnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08691843397271916672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1780724478319093973.post-16381607701038160772017-08-04T15:16:00.000-07:002017-08-04T15:16:12.006-07:00West Highland Way Race 2017 (support)I've known Wilson for a while, not drinking buddies as such, or running buddies for that matter, we never quite managed to meet up and run despite living comparatively close to each other. Our paths crossed at the SUMS awards last November while waiting to be served at the bar. Wilson said he had applied to run the WHW race, his name was in for the ballot. I said I'm available to support and something just clicked, we shook hands on what would become an incredible weekend in June.<br />
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<u>Out but not out</u><br />
<u><br /></u>
The WHW ultra is so popular it uses a ballot for entry. More and more people are putting their names forward during the month of November. While popularity and the rise in participation of ultra events is a good thing, the more hopefuls in the draw, the less likely your name is coming out. Early December is a nerve wracking time, if you're serious about giving the race a good go your training has already begun, despite the possibility of not gaining a place. Yes, you've guessed it, Wilson Dornan was not confirmed as a starter for the race, a disappointment that is difficult to hide in these days of social media. All was not lost though, Wilson did get on the waiting list, he would get in if runners failed to confirm and pay for their place. <br />
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<u>Good news bad news</u><br />
<u><br /></u>
Wilson kept me updated, he was quite far down the waiting list, eventually the iphone alerted me to the message "I'm in". Excellent news, I knew what I would be doing in June and could imagine myself supporting Wilson then getting to run some of the West Highland Way. Regular readers (about 10) of this blog knows what happened in January so no need to go into detail on this post. Eventually I had to advise Wilson I can't run but will still support the whole route, I felt I had let him down and was worried he would struggle to find a runner.<br />
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<u>Ultra Fame</u><br />
<u><br /></u>
It didn't take long, another message from Wilson advised he had a couple of runners, not just any runners but Sarah Louise Grigor and her partner Chris. I knew we were in for a tough weekend but hearing Wilson had arranged the back-up and expertise of Sarah and Chris meant his chances of completing the ultra increased significantly. Things were looking good for team Dornan. <br />
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<u>Training</u><br />
<u><br /></u>
I was unable to train with Wilson but was glad to see Alan Cormack accompany him on hill runs as reported on social media. I was at the Cateran where Wilson crossed the line in just over 14 hours so the miles were being done and he seemed on target in getting ready for the race. The hurdles to overcome and take part in the race would come from elsewhere.<br />
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<u>Life</u><br />
<u><br /></u>
Nothing is guaranteed, life throws in some ups and downs for us all. Wilson was no different, during the months leading up to the race I began to doubt if he would make the start line. Both parents ended up in hospital at one stage, I knew the race was approaching and if still on he would need a meeting with his support. I didn't want to be the one to suggest a meeting, I wasn't sure if all was well or if he would be running.<br />
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<u>Game on</u><br />
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Wilson messaged, all was well so I suggested a meeting, we needed to get a plan together. I met with Wilson and his partner Hazel. With no motor homes allowed till after Bridge of Orchy, my camper van would be Dornan HQ until Glencoe. Hazel, Sarah and Chris would be at Glencoe, ready to support till Fort William. I passed on some hints and tips to Wilson and asked for a detailed plan which duly arrived a few days later.<br />
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<u>Departure</u><br />
<u><br /></u>
I didn't have spare days to take off work, we planned to drive to Milngavie on the Friday evening. Wilson took the day off however and used it to rest before taking on the WHW race. I picked Wilson up along with his son Jak who would assist during the weekend. We stopped in by the hospital on our way, Wilson needed to visit his mother before making our way south. We were up against time but managed to stop for some food to make sure the fueling got off to a good start. The evening was fine, I knew sunshine, showers and high winds were forecast, little did we know how bad it would get.<br />
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<u>Registration and selfies</u><br />
<u><br /></u>
I'm writing about Wilson as if you know him and if you're in the Scottish ultra scene you probably do. He is the type of guy who posts on FB and gets hundreds of likes and lots of comments. He knows a lot of people, registration consisted of Wilson saying hello to just about everyone he bumped into and getting some great selfies including one with last years winner James Stewart. Jak must have felt like the paparazzi following Wilson and taking pictures with his phone. It wasn't long before it was time for race briefing which included the famous line "there will be weather". This got a small cheer from the crowd who probably didn't realise just how much weather was coming their way. Jak and I bade farewell to Wilson and made our way to the High Street.<br />
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<u>The European Cup</u><br />
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Jak was tasked with taking a video of the runners coming through. He'd been playing a lot of football on his phone, at one minute to one I advised him to get ready. I've only got 1 % of my battery left he said, but all was okay, his team were in the European Cup semi final. I used my phone to capture the runners coming through and heading off towards apocalypse.<br />
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<u>What? No midges?</u><br />
<br />
Where's your midge net? I asked. I haven't got one Jak said. Pffft, wait till we get to Balmaha I said, you won't believe what it's like, I've got a spare net. We set off with me following the sat nav. There was no hurry, the Oak Tree did not open it's doors till 0200. We found a space in camper van city and had a roll and coffee, I do like sitting in the Oak Tree with fellow support teams in the early hours of the morning. We got some rest, I set my alarm in plenty of time for Wilson arriving at Balmaha. The alarm chimed, wearily I got up and put on the midge net expecting the onslaught. Tentatively I opened the camper door and looked around. Not one net was being worn by support crews, the high winds kept the biters away. The first checkpoint is always a bit of a worry, Conic Hill is in the way and your runner needs to exit it safely. Wilson arrived at 0520, I was glad to see him, 40 minutes before cut off. I was perfectly happy with that. I followed the race plan, fed Wilson what was advised on the sheet and said farewell, until Bienglas Farm anyway. He was in good spirits and looked in great shape. Wilson had a drop bag for Rowardennan which meant quite a long stretch before he would meet his crew again.<br />
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<u>A phone call</u><br />
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After a rest at Balmaha Jak and I made our way to Bienglas Farm. That was when the weather started to close in, the wind started to rise, we could only just glimpse the other side of the loch as we made our way north. Race organisers request support crews arrive at Bienglas Farm roughly at the time their runner comes through. We arrived slightly early, enough time for some breakfast and a seat in the bar. Jak answered a call, I was not sure who it was so didn't take any notice then the phone was handed to me where I saw "Dad" on the display. My heart sank, was he injured? Has he taken a tumble? He's went through a rough patch, didn't feel great between Balmaha and Rowardennan. He picked up a bit but he was not sure of the mileage to Bienglas Farm, he was getting different distances from runners and was sounding down. I asked if he was at Inversnaid yet, no was the answer, he was about 33 miles in. I advised him to keep going, don't worry or listen to other runners, just keep going and get to Bienglas Farm where his crew would see to him, there's plenty of time. <br />
<u><br /></u>
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<u>A close shave</u><br />
<u><br /></u>
1300 is the cut off at Bienglas Farm, not a minute more. Jak and I stood waiting at the checkpoint, watching and cheering runners through. The checkpoint emptied to just a few support teams. I had left the phone call saying there's plenty of time, I was now eating my words. 1230 passed, now I was getting worried, I strained to see back down the trail, looking for the familiar orange jacket. At 1240 I was seriously worried, I wanted to run down the track, meet him and escort him back before 1300. I couldn't remember the race rules and how far support could meet their runner outside the checkpoint. Was it 200 yards? Half a mile? In desperation I asked one of the marshals who wasn't too sure. Two minutes later, sure enough orange appeared on the track much to his support crews relief.<br />
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<u>No time to hang around</u><br />
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Considering the phone call Wilson was in good enough shape. He needed all his time though so we gave him a quick 5 minute turn around and gave him some stats - 10 miles with just over 3 hours to cut off, keep it steady, see you at Auchtertyre.<br />
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<u>The weather gets worse</u><br />
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Auchtertyre is an exposed field, the rain meant support vehicles needed pushed out of the mud. I manage to park away from the mud right next to the checkpoint shelter. The wind was strong, the direction it was gusting meant runners were travelling straight into the gale. Sporadic showers came and went. Crew sheltered in the lee of vehicles to service their runners, it was cold. Jak watched a film while I sat and watched runners check-in, weigh-in, see their support and leave. It was so bad outside I prepared the van for an indoor service, Wilson may need a change of gear.<br />
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<u>Another close shave</u><br />
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It was getting to be a familiar feeling, sitting in the camper van willing Wilson into the checkpoint, this time a 1600 close off. I had binoculars and found myself looking through them down the open field hoping to see the bright colour once more. There were plenty of yellows and blues, mostly walking into the wind but I had to wait before Wilson appeared, he was running at this stage, something very few were doing because of the strong wind.<br />
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<u>No time to hang around</u><br />
<br />
Again he was in pretty good spirits and shape, he was dry so didn't need to change, his jacket was fine for the conditions so we fed him and gave him another relatively quick turn around. We gave more stats - 10 miles to Bridge of Orchy and 3 1/2 hours to cut off. <br />
<u><br /></u><u>A surprise for Wilson</u><br />
<u><br /></u>
With nothing better to do, Jak and I decided to meet Wilson at the crossroads in Tyndrum. There was good news, Hazel and Sarah managed to find a parking space on the outskirts of Bridge of Orchy, (unfortunately Chris couldn't make it), reinforcements were in the area. We parked at the Tourist info and walked to the road crossing. Rather than stand and wait, we ran / walked back along the way to meet our runner. At the large gate we met up where Wilson was suffering with a tight hamstring. We gave Wilson the good news that his support were at Bridge of Orchy which gave him a lift. I left them to make their way to the crossroads while I ran back to the van for freeze spray. Treatment was administered at the crossing before Wilson departed for Bridge of Orchy. Jak and I drove up the hill, parallel to the West Highland Way, tooting the van horn at every runner we could see, including Wilson.<br />
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<u>The Deer Runner versus Rannoch Moor</u> <br />
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It's a beautiful landscape, a vast wilderness, but we have history. <br />
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Back to 2012 and my first WHW race, another wet one. I arrived at Glencoe - cold, wet and broken after enduring 12 hours of rain and hallucinating on the Moor. It took my support a lot of work to rejuvenate and get me going again. That race was a draw - 1 each.<br />
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I returned to the race in 2013 and had a ball, cruised all the way over the Moor and into Glencoe feeling great, the score was now 2 - 1 in favour of the Deer Runner.<br />
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2016, not so good, I took a beating over the Moor, after suffering with high temperatures all day, the setting sun and the Moor destroyed me, I withdrew at Glencoe exhausted and bordering on hypothermia. The Deer Runner 2 Rannoch Moor 2.<br />
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So, the score was 2 each, all square but I was concerned. I knew how desolate Rannoch could feel and I knew this was the stage which Wilson had not done a recce on. This part<br />
of the race can play with your mind, it can undermine you and make you want to withdraw. Not only that but Wilson was going to be heading onto the Moor in what was probably the worst conditions the race has known, I couldn't let Rannoch Moor win, no way did I want Wilson to feel the way I did and withdraw from the race. I considered leaving my van at Bridge of Orchy and accompanying Wilson over Rannoch Moor but with my ankle I would be a liability to the runner and the race<br />
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<u>Plans over coffee</u><br />
<u><br /></u>
After meeting Hazel and Sarah, team Dornan were at full strength, Wilsons dream of completing the WHW race took a step closer. I discussed my Rannoch Moor concerns with the crew over coffee in the hotel. Sarah decided she would be ready to run from Bridge of Orchy if required, Wilson would have to make the decision on whether he wanted company over RM when he arrived at the checkpoint, it was his race after all. The rain was pouring down when we made our way to the checkpoint gazebo. Hazel went to meet and escort Wilson in, I heated a portion of Hazels famous Mac n Cheese on the stove. It wasn't long before Wilson arrived, no cutoff concerns this time. Wilson was fed the warm dish then asked if he would like Sarah to accompany him over Rannoch Moor. I breathed a sigh of relief when Wilson said he would love Sarah to accompany him over RM.<br />
It was quite a long stop and it was needed. Sarah got ready to go, Wilson changed into gear more suited for adverse conditions including a more suitable jacket and waterproof trousers. At seven o'clock Wilson and Sarah left Bridge of Orchy and headed into what would become known to Team Dornan as Storm Bastard Rannoch.<br />
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<u>Mac n Cheese at the Ritz</u><br />
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We were at Glencoe, it was feeding time for the rest of the crew. I named Hazel's motor home the Ritz. It was freezing outside, some after race reports said 2 degrees and it felt like it. Hazel, Jak and I sat in central heated luxury and ate M & C with garlic bread. I returned to my van for some rest, listening to the howling gale and heavy rain outside wondering if the weather was going to give the runners a break. It was getting dark, just after 2200 I decided to get out the van and wait for their arrival. I couldn't wait, I started back along the trail willing to meet them at every turn. I passed David Searil who was struggling and determined to walk the rest of the race. Not long after I was relieved to meet our runners, in good spirits despite the stormy conditions and head on wind. For obvious reasons this was another long stop, we needed to make sure Wilson was changed into fresh clothes, fed, warmed and given first aid to aches and pains.<br />
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<u>Night lights</u><br />
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Wilson was very stiff and sore when he left the checkpoint, something I can relate to. Hazel and Jak departed for Kinlochleven to get some kip, I decided to stop at Altnafae. I wanted to give some support before they tackled the devils staircase. I wasn't expecting problems but would be available if any arose. I found a space in the layby but couldn't settle. Vehicles passed with their lights dazzling my mirrors. I decided to get out into the strong wind and rain, it was way too early, I wasn't sure when they would come through but didn't want to miss them. I stood with my brolly and a torch, peering up the trail. Some runners had very bright torches, I knew Sarah had a powerful torch, I convinced myself every bright torch coming my way was Sarahs. The wind tried to relieve me of my brolly, David Searil came through and I wished him well, other runners and support came and went. Finally they arrived, all was well, I could hear Sarah encouraging Wilson every step of the way.<br />
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<u>Lost but not lost</u><br />
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I drew into a space at Kinlochleven community centre car park, set my alarm for 0400 and settled down for some kip. The rain was relentless, beating on the camper van roof, the runners were getting no respite. My alarm went off and I was looking forward to a coffee in the community centre. I exited the van into the rain and made my way to the entrance. Hazel was standing in the street, looking worried and on the phone, my heart sank. I was dreading bad news, Hazel approached, advised they were lost then handed the phone over. It was a rude awakening, with blurry eyes I looked at my watch, 0415. Sarah was on the other end, they hadn't reached the water pipes and thought they took a wrong turn. Before this a runner was ahead, Sarah and Wilson tried to warn them they were on the wrong track. I needed to think, it was four years since I was last approaching Kinlochleven and now getting lost threatened our race, the clock was ticking towards the 0500 close off. I advised them I was not aware of a wrong turn, it just goes downhill towards Kinlochleven, I'm running up to meet you. In a panic I set off as fast as my ankle would allow, our race couldn't possibly end here, it would be a massive disappointment. Through the streets I ran, onto the trail and up to the large water pipes which were so elusive to our runners. My heart was in my mouth, conscious of the time, looking ahead and willing them to be there. Much to my relief they appeared following the pipes downhill. They were never off trail, the pipes were farther than expected, a new forest road across the valley added to the illusion of being lost, the WHW dream was back on.<br />
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<u>Concern</u><br />
<u><br /></u>
Wilson weighed in, a coffee was made in the community centre but it was easier to do the pit stop in the Ritz. Our runner got fed, hydrated and a fresh pair of socks. He was suffering with a sore leg so took paracetamol. Hazel asked if I was going to Lundavra to which I answered no, I didn't want it to be an option for Wilson to pull out of the race. Wilson exited the motor home with Sarah, ready to take on the final leg. The final runner, they walked up the street as signs were being removed. Wilsons gloves were found in the motor home, I ran and caught up to hand them over. Wilson looked in pain and was limping slightly, I was concerned, I was going to Lundavra. <br />
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<u>Bad dreams</u><br />
<u><br /></u>
Hazel and Jak got some rest at Kinlochleven, just in case they were needed by Wilson, I would drive to Lundavra. I've never driven to Lundavra before, I left after getting directions from Graeme (first roundabout in Fort William, turn right, keep going till the road runs out), and what a steep twisty road it was for an old camper van. I didn't dare take the van off road, opting to park on a grass bank just below the Lundavra checkpoint. After a quick visit and chat to the marshals (who have been there since around Saturday lunch time), I returned to the van for some sleep. I had to set the alarm, after some thought I settled for 0830 figuring they would come through around 0900. My sleep was unsettled where I dreamt every scenario going, what if he comes through at 1000, two hours to do six miles. If he comes through at 1100? What next? Keep going? <br />
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I woke at 0825, 5 minutes before the alarm went off. I began to get ready to go the the checkpoint. There was a knock on the window. It was Melanie who shouted "Wilson is here"! I asked Melanie to tell Wilson to keep going but he wanted to see his support. I jumped out of the van and scrambled up the hill. Wilson was standing with his hands in the air. I'VE BEASTED IT! he shouted, IV'E PASSED TWO RUNNERS ON LAIRIG MOR! That's when I knew it was job done, six miles from Fort William on a rain soaked moor nothing was going to get in the way. Sarah advised me to catch up as they pushed on, I ran onto the WHW and put my arms around them both announcing I could greet.<br />
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<u>Fort William</u><br />
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Back down the twisty road to Fort William, I headed for the car park looking for the Ritz forgetting they were camped up at Kinlochleven. In a moment of panic, I phoned Hazel who just happened to be a few miles from Fort William. The Ritz was parked at the leisure centre before making our way to Brave Heart car park. We walked up the Way to meet our runners, take pictures and escort them back to Brave Heart. <br />
<br />
34 hours 24 minutes and 09 seconds after leaving Milngavie, Wilson Dornan realised his ambition to complete the West Highland Way Ultra and crossed the finish line to applause from all in attendance.<br />
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<br />
<u>Thanks</u><br />
<br />
To the race organisers, marshals, sweepers and volunteers for yet another epic race.<br />
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To Jak for your help and company in support of Wilson.<br />
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To Hazel for bolstering support of Wilson and Sarah and looking after team Dornan.<br />
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To Sarah for taking care of Wilson through awful weather for a longer than anticipated distance.<br />
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To Wilson Dornan for allowing me to share his epic journey.<br />
<u><br /></u>The Deer Runnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08691843397271916672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1780724478319093973.post-42131120683686570142017-06-07T12:38:00.000-07:002017-06-07T12:38:40.472-07:00CrockedI have a new routine. I put on running kit and head out for a test run. Ankle pain shows up right at the start, struggle through whatever mileage I decided to do (anything from 2 to 5 miles), leave it for another week and repeat. It's the same every week, I have no expectations, medial pain makes it's appearance as soon as I strike off to run. <br />
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My right leg has thrown the toys out of the pram. It's the weak leg and I've asked it to step up to the mark and get me running again. Fat chance, it now complains along with my back muscles. I have no running form and as for core strength? that fled the sinking ship long ago.<br />
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The 3 miles home from my work has become a chore, I've finished the D33 in better shape than my commute, stumbling through the door broken, wheezy and sore. 11:40 minute miles was my average pace during a recent 5 miler and that was as fast as I could run.<br />
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I've turned alternative and wear a magnet inside my sock. I take glucosamine tablets to speed up the healing. I don't think I have been rehabilitating the ankle enough, a few exercises now and again has not been sufficient. I use an elastic band and wobble board every now and then and have started exercises to strengthen the tibialis posterior tendon after consultation with doctor Google.<br />
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On the plus side I have marshaled, both at the Highland Fling and Cateran. Missing my favorite ultra was painful but Karen and George allowed me to join the team last minute where I had a great weekend helping out.<br />
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Future events - needless to say, my East to West challenge is out the window, for this year anyway. Looks like I'll have to withdraw from the Hardmoors 60 in September which is disappointing. Not getting back to running means there's no way I have time to get fit enough for the 60. Both Lynne and myself are signed up for the Glenmore 24 and if I'm still the same? sod it, I'll walk it instead.<br />
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The Glen Ogle 33 opened at the weekend, I entered it to give myself a target and inspiration to get training again. I would also like to get back to the Cateran and run the 55 miles solo which may well be mid winter, here's hoping.<br />
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<br />The Deer Runnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08691843397271916672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1780724478319093973.post-41296711978288661862017-04-09T12:31:00.000-07:002017-04-09T12:31:21.637-07:00The long denialA three mile hill run confirmed I wasn't ready, it was a test run before my physio. I went to the appointment, it seems the soft tissue has heeled but there's pain on the inside of the ankle when I run. This is on the opposite side of the ligament damage, the conclusion being this is bruising to the bone inside the joint. It's going to take time to heal so we tried taping the ankle to see if this would alleviate the pain and allow a slow return.<br />
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Every day walking is fine, but when I run it's the impact and pushing off that's the problem forcing my body to compensate. The ankle was taped and I attempted a run but aborted after 50 yards, the pain was still there. My physiotherapist advised another two weeks cross training before attempting another run, did I heed the advice? Nope.<br />
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Sunday saw Lynne and I head for Bennachie, it was time to get Lynne fit for the G24 in December. Lynne would run while I walked but once again I couldn't contain myself. It was such a beautiful day we ended up hiking and running for 5 miles, this was considerably uncomfortable on the ankle. <br />
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Wednesday saw a work colleague, Lynne and I head for the Braes o Gight, another denial run and uncomfortable eight miles with no lesson learnt. I kept thinking the next run will be the one with no pain and a return to normal.<br />
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And so to this past weekend, a recce of the G24 route in the Cairngorms and another eight miles, it's all I could muster as the ankle swelled up.<br />
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The Fling is less than three weeks away, I still have not pulled out but it's inevitable. I also need to heed the advice from my physio, lets see what this week brings.<br />
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Week ending 02nd April - Sun 05. Weekly total 5 miles.<br />
Wed 08, Sun 08. Weekly total 16 miles.<br />
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The Deer Runnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08691843397271916672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1780724478319093973.post-50397015846353705822017-03-26T12:38:00.000-07:002017-03-26T12:38:24.019-07:00Audacity With fine weather and blue skies over the weekend, my Facebook feed was full of fellow runners sending photos from all over the country. A visit to the physio is booked this Wednesday so it was time to test the ankle once more. Brimmond Hill was the destination, time to pull on the trainers and give it a decent go, the first time since the 24th of January.<br />
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For those that don't know Brimmond, it has a car park at the base and a tarred road used by service vehicles to the top. It's not too long nor very steep but would be quite sufficient for the test today.<br />
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I was accompanied by Lynne, she wanted to get training for the Glenmore 24 in September. Once out of the car I advised a wee jog around the car park to bring our heart rate up before ascending the hill. It quickly became apparent the ankle was not going to play ball, with stiff shooting pains I decided to walk up the hill while Lynne ran ahead. I couldn't contain myself though and jogged some of the uphill regardless how my ankle was feeling. I couldn't help thinking, am I doing myself damage running in pain or is it time to tell the ankle this is how it should be, time to get back to normal.<br />
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When I say jog, I don't mean a normal jog. The body compensated to deal with the injured ankle which meant my right leg was doing most of the work. I was subconsciously protecting the ankle from striking and pushing off. Uphill was the worst but I was thankful to be out and getting some sort of exercise regardless of the circumstances.<br />
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Once at the top, we decided to descend to the rear of the hill and return. This was trail and I didn't have my ankle strapped up. I took it real easy, baby steps while Lynne ran ahead. At one stage I decided to go all out, just to see how the ankle responded and yelled out as the ankle protested. that put the brakes on, even though going downhill was much easier.<br />
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Run / walking back up reminded me just how unfit I was as I struggled for breath. Lynne was now way ahead, reached the summit and was making her way back down the tarred road as I shuffled behind. I had a chuckle to myself as Lynne turned around and started running back up towards me, doing hill repeats with a grin on her face and enjoying being out in front, the audacity of it all.<br />
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Never the less, I managed to jog back down to the car, an estimated 3 miles completed but at what cost. Today was either a turning point and time to get going again or a setback with the ankle needing further recuperation, at this point I'm not sure which. I'll find out when I visit the physio on Wednesday.<br />
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Sunday 03. Weekly total - 3 miles.<br />
The Deer Runnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08691843397271916672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1780724478319093973.post-40550298009660557162017-03-19T14:07:00.000-07:002017-03-19T14:07:15.936-07:00D33 - Marathon ManI had to pull out of the D33 but that didn't mean I couldn't take part. I volunteered to marshal and at such a late stage didn't expect to be called upon. A road crossing at Peterculter required a marshal, a post I was perfectly happy to accept.<br />
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And so I found myself at Duthie Park on race day, it felt strange helping out rather than getting ready to run. I didn't hang around for race start, I wanted to drive to the road crossing and get ready for runners coming through.<br />
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Station Road East has a small car park - runners, cyclists and dog walkers are using it for access to the Deeside Way. The road crossing is seven miles into the race and as it is an out and back just happens to be exactly marathon distance on the way back.<br />
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I wasn't sure what time the leaders would come through, so I took up position in plenty of time. The trail exits to the road and turns downhill for a short distance before a left turn then runners rejoin the trail on the right hand side of the road. From where I stood I could just see where runners rejoined the trail.<br />
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I stood in position, nervously waiting for runners to come through, chatting to inquisitive locals and letting them know about Aberdeen's premier running race.<br />
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It wasn't long before the escort push bike came into sight, closely followed by race leader. I clapped and cheered all runners through while watching for traffic and warning motorists.<br />
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I was into the swing of things, "well done, keep left, downhill, rejoin the track" I repeated as runners passed. Some obviously knew the route and arrows were spray painted on the ground but I mainly tried to keep runners to the side of the road. All was going well until one runner came through, I advised the directions but made an error, instead of downhill I advised down the bottom of the hill.<br />
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The runner was on her way before I could rectify my instruction. I could just see her, hoping she would turn onto the track rather than run to the bottom of the hill. Oh no, she missed the turn off. I asked the next runner through to shout after her. I kept an eye on the turn off, there was still no sign of the runner coming back up the hill. Another two runners passed through, I asked them to keep an eye out for a wayward runner wearing purple.<br />
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After a couple of minutes there was still no sign of the runner, there was only one thing for it, I sprinted downhill to look for her. My left ankle complained straight away, between having to run and wearing boots. The road led the a tee junction, I turned right and was dismayed to see the road disappear into the countryside. Blast. There was a dog walker coming towards me, "have you seen a wayward runner"? I asked. "Yes, I've given her directions to get back onto the track" I was relieved to hear. I sprinted back to my marshal post with an unhappy ankle, my decision to pull out of the race was the right one.<br />
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Once all runners were through I returned to the camper and had something to eat. The weather had changed with quite heavy rain falling. A soaking wet and bedraggled runner appeared in the car park, I thought it was someone pulling out of the race, I jumped out of the van to assist only to be told she was a local who got caught in the rain. She enquired about the event and shook her head in disbelief when told the distance before getting in her car.<br />
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Brolly in hand, I took up position for the runners returning to Aberdeen. I watched for runners appearing and running up the hill. I slowed local traffic down making sure nothing happened to George and Karen's participants. The front runners ran through fast, muddy legs showed the course was rather wet this year. It was fascinating cheering all runners through, some walking, some running but all putting in gritty performances. There were some carrying injuries, the camaraderie was a breath of fresh air as runners teamed up with each other, another left freeze spray for a runner who would come through limping. Sure enough, 10 minutes later the spray was used by the limping runner before continuing on his way.<br />
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I didn't realise I was standing at 26.2 until a few runners mentioned it passing by, with one calling me marathon man as he crossed the road. I was having a great time, "beer this way" I would call out, pointing to the track leading to Aberdeen. Haribo sweets were offered, I enquired after tired looking runners, making sure they were okay as they continued. Most had passed and continued on their way before I got the message to stand down at 1500.<br />
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I returned to Duthie Park and watched runners cross the line before helping to dismantle the marquee. Unfortunately I had to leave and missed Julie, the most determined and gritty runner of the day cross the line.<br />
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Thanks to George and Karen for allowing me a part in their race, it was a pleasure to marshal for runners that were polite and said thank you as they passed by, both out and back. <br />
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So marshalling is very satisfying, which is just as well, I might be offering my services to the Fling.<br />
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<br />The Deer Runnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08691843397271916672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1780724478319093973.post-75189272285832931912017-03-12T12:07:00.000-07:002017-03-12T12:07:30.451-07:00Aspiration versus realityI envisaged a good winter training schedule leading to race season then taking on a personal challenge. All this planning and race entries did not take into account life, work or injury. The growing popularity of ultra running means races fill fast, forcing participants to enter months ahead of race day. I had a race schedule worked out to bring my fitness up using the tried and tested SUMS ultra calendar. Events are used to build strength and stamina, I was so confident in having a good season I threw in the Hardmoors 55 as well, a relatively high mile race for me during March.<br />
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As previously posted, it went belly up on a run home in the dark, a pothole brought me to my knees. A physio appointment put paid to the Hardmoors but gave hope in running the D33.<br />
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I was advised to cross train and get on the bike. I did, 30 miles on my old mountain bike which felt like 3 hours of torture, I'm not into cycling. I have a rowing machine, another torture device which I don't like. I do sessions on the rower in fits and starts, only doing a session when I can be bothered. I should have been on the rower, but decided to sit and update my blog instead. As for swimming? Difficulty fitting time in for swimming and a dislike of water means no visit to the public baths for me. <br />
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It's safe to say I struggle with cross training and always have. The result? After six weeks of very little exercise, I feel as if my fitness has ebbed away. In such a short time, my midriff has expanded thanks to a lack of running, bad diet and alcohol consumption.<br />
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The ankle kept swelling, but I was still on track to do the D33 after a second visit to the physio. One more visit was required where I would be shown how to strap and support the ankle. Unfortunately I was unable to make this appointment which has been postponed and with ongoing ankle problems pulled out of the second race of my year.<br />
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The Fling is fast approaching which is now in jeopardy. My rescheduled physio appointment is over a week away and although the ankle feels like it's getting stronger, pain stops any sort of running whatsoever. Obviously this is going to have a knock on effect, not only is the Fling and possibly Cateran under threat but my personal challenge as well. With no running and racing, there's no way I'll be fit enough for my east to west.<br />
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The next couple of weeks is going to determine how my summer running will go, I'm going to need a rapid improvement in ankle recovery. The Deer Runnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08691843397271916672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1780724478319093973.post-37404788223221290632017-02-15T13:37:00.001-08:002017-02-15T13:37:26.283-08:00PhysioOnly one 15 minute session on the rower is all the exercise I've had during the last three weeks. It was too soon, my ankle did not like the stress placed on it and let me know by swelling up again. Last week I walked about a mile after which a lump appeared on the left hand side. I had resigned myself to being out of running for quite a while.<br />
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I made an appointment with my sports physiotherapist and made my way to the appointment with trepidation, fully expecting confirmation of my self diagnosis. After a thorough examination the news was much better than I expected. <br />
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After around 10 days (cross training which I have not been doing), exercises and another visit I should be able to tape the ankle for support and resume running. Great news, I didn't expect that. I then presumed I'd have to withdraw from my first two events of the year, the D33 and Hardmoors 55. Not necessarily, as the D33 is flat with no hills it should be doable with the ankle taped. Unfortunately that's not the case for the Hardmoors 55, with rugged terrain and hills, that one is not going to happen.<br />
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Running the D33 will let me know exactly where I am, it also follows a bus route, so if things go belly up I can jump aboard the bus. So now I have a target to rehabilitate the ankle and get fit for the Highland Fling at the end of April. I withdrew from the Hardmoors 55 and entered the Hardmoors 60 which takes place 16th September, I'm going to have to wait a bit longer before my first "foreign" race outside Scotland. The Deer Runnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08691843397271916672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1780724478319093973.post-52095828461309881962017-01-26T12:27:00.000-08:002017-01-26T12:28:23.167-08:00Oops, I did it again.January was going okay, nothing spectacular, mileage down on what's required for 2017 in 2017 though. A 10 mile hill run was completed on Bennachie with plans to do more in future. It was Tuesday night when I decided to run home from work, only 3 miles but every little helps. <br />
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It was a fine, clear night but I still needed my head torch to run on the road. I was about half a mile out, running on the right hand side of the road, when a vehicle approached. Rather than jump onto the verge (which is what I usually do when traffic approaches), I crossed over to the left hand side of the road. The vehicle stopped (unknown to me this was a farmer tending to livestock) with the headlights shining and blinding my vision. In hindsight I should have slowed to a walk, stupidly I carried on running with my vision dazzled. My left foot hit a pothole, my leg buckled and over I went, skidding along the muddy road. I promptly got onto my feet but there was no way I could continue, I knew something was wrong with my left foot.<br />
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In a daze I shuffled to the side of the road and sat on the verge. I was just about to phone a work colleague when a car noticed my predicament and stopped. Even though I was covered in mud with a bloody knee, they covered the back seat of their car and took me home. So Kenny and Alex, thank you for the assistance it was much appreciated.<br />
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I hobbled to the shower, removing the sock exposed a huge lump and rapidly swelling ankle. Once cleaned up I iced the ankle (I'm getting familiar with this routine after just recovering my right ankle) but it continued to swell. I would sleep then see how it was on Wednesday.<br />
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I could hardly walk, time for A & E, praying no bones were broken. After examination and X ray I was glad to be given news of nothing broken. I do however have ligament damage which is perceived as worse than a break, I'll take the ligament damage.<br />
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So here I am, giving the ankle RIPE, that's Rest, Ice, Pain control and Elevation - latest medical advice is not to compress. I can't put full weight on the foot for the time being, a far cry from running the hills and trails at the weekend.<br />
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Obviously this will affect the start of my season, the D33 and Hardmoors 55 are in jeopardy, I will probably have to withdraw but I won't do it yet, I'll take it easy then see that the physio says.<br />
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Week ending 8th Jan - Mon 6, Wed 3. Weekly total 9 miles.<br />
Week ending 15th Jan - Wed 3, Sat 30. Weekly total 33 miles.<br />
Week ending 22nd Jan - Tues 3, Wed 3, Thurs 3, Sat 10. Weekly total 19 miles.<br />
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<br />The Deer Runnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08691843397271916672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1780724478319093973.post-72960432728500008662017-01-04T14:11:00.000-08:002017-01-04T14:11:53.830-08:00Almost 50 Nearly 50Going over my ankle early December forces me to find an alternative challenge from running the West Highland Way. I doubted it would recover soon enough and allow me to do ultra distance. After three weeks my ankle feels a bit better, it's still uncomfortable at extremes of mobility but if I strap it up I may be able to do an ultra before the end of the year.<br />
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With New Year booked in Inverness, I turn my attention to the Moray Coast Trail between Cullen and Forres. I begin to organise the logistics, Lynne and Skye can pick me up from Forres on the way to Inverness for our break. I have to be fair though and want us all checked into the hotel early afternoon. This means I cannot run the route during daylight, an overnight run will make it a bit different and more of a challenge. I consider running from my house which would add around 32 miles to the MCT 50 but I'm not fit enough for 82 miles.<br />
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I'll take on the run overnight 29th / 30th December as my birthday is on the 31st. The last bus passes through Fyvie at 2120 and arrives at Cullen 2230 hours. I will give myself a generous 12 hours to complete the route, Lynne and Skye will pick me up 1030 at Forres. I'll do this unsupported, in the event of an emergency it's an early morning phone call to Lynne.<br />
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I regularly check the weather forecast as the 29th approaches. It's very mild and a bit windy, I was hoping for a clear starlit night but this is not going to happen. I nervously pack kit on the 29th, questioning the decision to take this on unsupported through the night with a dodgy ankle. My mind is made up though, I need to do something that scares me before I'm 50.<br />
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I get my North Face back pack ready, with only two 500 ml bottles hydration is going to be a problem, one contains water, the other contains Nunn tablets. On the pack I have a foil blanket, bandage, ankle support, pain killers, toilet roll, whistle and £20 note. I want to pack a ski jacket in case of emergency but there's no room for it. Instead I pack two lightweight running jackets and a woolly hat figuring plenty of layers would suffice. Food is two packets of crisps, a pot of rice, galaxy bar and chocolate fudge.<br />
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I will take my Tikka head torch and Phoenix hand torch with spare batteries for both. I will also take a portable charger for my iphone so I can be sure enough power is in my phone at the end of the run.<br />
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My attire is Hoka Speedgoats, running leggings, long shorts, a teeshirt, long sleeve running top, high viz gilet, gloves and buff. I will take my mp3/radio player which is mounted on an arm band, I have a running playlist on my iphone.<br />
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I intend to sleep during the day before I set off but this does not happen. I also have second thoughts, it would be nice and warm to stay at home so all of us can travel to Inverness together but I'm committed, there's no turning back. <br />
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Lynne drives me to Fyvie, I'm apprehensive as we wait for the last bus. It arrives early, I have £8 in my pocket for the fare, the driver asks £12.75. Blast, I didn't expect it to be so much. I have to fumble in my back pack for the £20 note which will now be broken into change for my pocket.<br />
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I take a seat near the front, there's a draught that chills my feet but I stay put and stare out the window. Christmas lights penetrate the darkness as I concentrate on the challenge ahead. Shoppers and revellers access and egress the bus as it makes it's way through towns and villages. I get strange looks now and again, wearing full running kit at such an odd hour. There's no one else on the bus when I ask the driver to drop me off at the square in Cullin.<br />
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The bus pulls away and leaves me standing alone, the place is deserted. I stand for a few minutes, the wind blows an empty plastic bottle down the street.<br />
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Cullin to Buckie. <br />
I leave on the viaduct overlooking Seatown. The night is overcast so no stars to show the way. It's clear though, orange glow of town street lights can be seen for miles up the coast. There's a stiff headwind which won't change direction for the duration of the run. Portnockie is mostly deserted, the loose change jingles in my pocket which irritates me as I run. I don't want dogs barking and causing a commotion as I move through. I'm now on the exposed cliff top path where the wind forces me to lean and walk. I need the wind strength to ease as the effort to move forward is tiring me out already. The cliffs are high above the Moray Firth, there's nothing to see, it's pitch black but I can hear the surf below. Two pairs of eyes are reflected back to the head torch. Are they foxes? I can't tell but they stand their ground and watch warily as I run by. The path drops into Findochty, the MCT is way marked but signs can be sporadic. I know where the trail goes, through the campsite which we have used previously. Tonight the site is closed, vans sit empty and ghostly out of season. The trail is on the coast at the foot of cliffs, I cross a cove with crashing waves below, a small footbridge keeps me safe. I'm concerned, the tide is in which will make some of the beach crossings ahead out of bounds. Up to the top once more, I skirt the golf course expecting to drop into Strathlene on the edge of Buckie but no, the trail heads towards the sea on a precarious narrow track. No running here as the trail lowers to the rocky shoreline, the crashing waves nearby are alarming. At last there's lights ahead and civilisation, I can leave the uneasy feeling behind for the time being but know there will be more ahead. <br />
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Buckie to Spey Bay.<br />
I'm familiar with this part of the MCT as it's shared with the Speyside Way to Spey Bay. A couple of taxis pass as I run through the streets. A smoker stares as I run past, I resist the urge to go into the bar for a pint. I leave the lights of Portgordon behind and run steadily on the long disused railway towards the woods. I was sheltered from the wind by buildings but now it makes it's presence felt. I reach the woods where there's some respite, physical respite but not mental. The wind shakes and sways the trees as I run through, branches screech and rustle high above which allows my imagination to escape and wreak havoc. Hair on the back of my neck stands on end as I follow the torch light, there's something ahead, a huge bird with a large beak is going to cross the trail. I get closer before realising a tree stump won't be able to cross the trail, it's too early for hallucinations. I'm happy to see the lights of Spey Bay and exit the woods, I get hold of my imagination and lock it away.<br />
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Spey Bay to Lossiemouth.<br />
In all my years running the Speyside Ultra, I never realised there was a nearby railway viaduct that crosses the Spey. In fact, when I first looked into this run I thought I would have to run inland to Fochabers to reach a bridge then make my way back to the coast. I am concerned, during darkness I might miss the turn off to the viaduct but it is easy enough to find. The path is in good condition which leads to the viaduct, heavy steel work ahead is picked up by my torch. The structure has now been demoted to carry pedestrians rather than heavy locomotives in days gone by. I move onto the concrete path in the centre of the bridge, there seems to be slats either side of the path, I don't shine my torch through to the river below. The river Spey is possibly the fastest flowing river in the UK, at one section loud rapids can be heard, the river is in a hurry to reach the Moray Firth. Once across I have Garmouth and Kingston all to myself, following the trail through lanes, snaking between sleeping houses. There's a rifle range after Kingston, the trail is closed during exercises. A daytime number is supplied to check if it's in use but I haven't checked, surely it's not in use at night, or is it? Red flags fly when the range is in use and now I'm worried a night exercise may be held and my run will be all over. I reach a nature reserve car park and wide track that leads back towards the coast. Tank blocks are here, interspersed with pillboxes, their empty black eyes watch me running past. The track is full of pebbles, running is precarious with my weak ankle. On some stretches it is impossible to run which forces me to walk and make sure I don't twist the ankle. I consider crossing ridges of pebbles to reach the beach but I'm convinced the tide is in, I can hear the crash and hiss of waves. I decide to stick with the pebble path and creepy pillboxes even though my progress is slow. I reach the rifle range warning sign and turn my torch to the flagpole. The wire slaps against the post, the wind ringing it like a bell in the darkness but there's no flag. Before continuing I shine the torch up the pole a second time, just to make sure, then go. Imagination breaks loose once more, a mixture of crashing waves, staring pillboxes and the possibility of someone forgetting to raise the flag keeps my senses alert. The track continues to follow tank blocks and boxes for miles, sometimes there's a sand trail at the side allowing a short jog but I mostly walk. I arrive at a junction in the trail, an alternative route to Lossiemouth through the woods. I stand for a few minutes then decide to run through the trees. I leave the coast but the trail is full of large pebbles and not marked at junctions. After a quarter of a mile I turn back for the coast, I don't fancy being lost in the forest and losing time. Lights can be seen in the distance but as I continue they don't seem to get closer. Lossiemouth is the new Kinlochleven, taunting and illusive as I run towards the town. The trail exits onto the beach, still a fair bit to go to the street lights. Waves crash and roll to the right, a desperate attempt to reach inland. Streetlights of Lossie come into focus, bright and decorated for Christmas. Then a thought crosses my mind, oh no! The river Lossie may flow between the beach and street ahead and if it does I don't know where the bridge is. The street is only a few hundred yards away and it looks like I'm okay, I crest the sand bank then look at reflections, street lights bounce off the river ahead and I come to a halt. I switch on my powerful hand torch and scan the river ahead, there's a wooden structure to the right. I hope it's a bridge, but no, it's a wooden barrier that stretches into the surf, I'll have to run inland to a crossing. I follow the river expecting to travel for miles but not long after the beam picks up another wooden structure, this time a foot bridge. Relieved, I walk across the creaky structure, the dark river flows silently below. It's four o'clock in the morning as I sit on a bench overlooking the bay and send a text to Lynne. The wind blows as I eat then drink the last of my water, hydration will now be an issue.<br />
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Lossiemouth to Findhorn.<br />
If I come across someone, I'll ask for water. I run to the marina, once again the MCT signs are non existent. I can't find where to join the coast trail then decide to leave Lossiemouth by the road. There are various paths that lead to the coast but I'm so sore and exhausted by the last coast section I'm perfectly happy to run on tarmac. The whole town is deserted which means no water for me, I'll have to wait till Hopeman. Red beacons scatter the countryside ahead, it's not till I get closer I realise what they are. Landing lights for RAF Lossiemouth, a place I am familiar with from my youth in the ATC. It's all quiet, no Typhoons will be flying at this hour. I reminisce on times gone by when the base was home to Buccaneers and Shackletons. The road to Hopeman passes Silver Sands Caravan Park which is silent, no thirst quenching water here. Covesea lighthouse is to the right, RAF Lossiemouth to the left and red light towers in front which is where I head. Traffic begins to travel on the road forcing me to periodically get on the verge. A sign post guides me away from the road back to the coast and cliff top paths. Once again the trail twists and turns above the surf before reaching a fence and "danger, keep out" signs. It's a quarry and I've no desire to go anywhere near the face, I stick diligently to the trail which takes me into Hopeman. It's too early for shops to be open, I hope to bump into someone getting ready to leave for work, I'll request water. No sign of life here either, I end up on a tarred ex railway line to Burghead. It's only a few miles, there's a huge factory lit up in the distance, Burghead Maltings and the start of the whiskey trail. The lack of signs finds me at the caravan site and a slipway down to the beach, I can see two red towers far in the distance around the curve of the bay and presume this is Findhorn. My torch picks out the surf, the waves are far enough out to allow me to run on the beach, I hope the tide is on it's way out as to the left of me erosion has left a formidable vertical wall of sand held together by the forest on top, there's no way I would be able to scale this. The wind has picked up and once again I have to lean and walk to make progress. It's now 0815 and I still need my torch, dawn is taking an age to reach here. My torch illuminates a whelk, I stop to pack away my torches and the shell. I'm getting closer to the red light towers and realise I have been mistaken, the bay continues on. The eroded wall is around 10 feet tall here, so I climb the next path through to get an idea of the lie of the land. The sun is just rising now, there's a path at the top which follows the bay, I'm guessing this would have to be used if the tide was in which would add time and distance to the MCT. I descend to the beach once more and eventually make my way to wooden steps. These lead to the public car park and Findhorn. <br />
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Findhorn to Forres.<br />
I have a raging thirst now, a shop is open in the village. I purchase and down a bottle of water and a bottle of coke which sets me up for the last leg of my journey. There is a footpath come cycle way which is signposted 5 miles to Forres. Buses are running and commuters are on the road, I'm back in civilisation again. I'm beginning to tire and run walk, saying good morning to runners and cyclists. I pass RAF Kinloss with it's redundant Nimrod parked at the fence. The wind has dropped, for the first time during the run I can listen to music. Appropriately Brian Eno - An Ending plays through the ear phones. My muscles and joints are sore but it feels good to be covering this distance the day before my 50th birthday. I've made it to Forres, my watch shows 46 miles as I cross the pedestrian bridge over the A96. I have deviated from the trail a few times which may account for the 4 mile short fall, but with the head wind experienced I claim 50 miles. Content, I lie down on the grass verge and wait for my lift.<br />
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Week ending 18th Dec - Thurs 3, Sat 2, Sun 2. Weekly total 7 miles.<br />
Week ending 25th Dec - Thurs 2, Fri 2, Sat 2. Weekly total 6 miles.<br />
Week ending 01st Jan - Mon 2, Tues 2, Wed 2, Thurs 2, Thurs/Fri 46. Weekly total 54 miles, <br />
<br />The Deer Runnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08691843397271916672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1780724478319093973.post-14287787830022010572016-12-10T08:55:00.000-08:002016-12-10T08:55:47.525-08:00Roller CoasterThis will be my last post for 2016 so will use it as a review as well as a look ahead to 2017.<div>
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Running wise, 2016 was a bit of a roller coaster where I am sitting typing this with a twisted ankle. My weak right ankle managed to find the only water filled pothole for miles during day six of Marcothon. In and over it went with what felt very much like tearing and it was a limp home. This was the same ankle that put me out for two months last year. I had a pipe dream of doing something special as I approached my 50th birthday. I was toying with the idea of doing a winter West Highland Way over a couple of days but with my ankle in recovery I doubt if I'll manage to pull that off. </div>
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My 2016 running calendar finished off with a nice surprise, I had forgotten I entered the Glen Ogle Ultra, not realising until the Friday before. It was a mad panic packing then driving down on the day to take part. This was a week after Jedburgh which was still in my legs. I deliberately ran out too fast then paid for it on the way back with lots of runners passing me by on the way up Glen Ogle. It was a great day out with good company, running the last few miles with Sharon. Unfortunately I couldn't stay for the caleigh as I had the Fraserburgh Half marathon the next day. </div>
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The Broch half marathon was my last event of the year and having run two ultras the week before I wasn't expecting anywhere near my PB of 1.45. It was a nice clear day where I went out and gave it my all, not quite under the 2 hours I was after but happy with 2.05.</div>
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I can't post about 2016 without noting my WHW dnf. I read my blog post again before typing this. Its true to say I have not been at my fittest throughout the year, a distinct lack of training hampered me in a few races including the WHW. I am going to take it on again but not next year, I'll aim for 2018 and there is a reason for this. I'm going to take on my personal challenge, East to West Scotland. As you may know from previous posts, this has been in my head for a few years now. Turning 50 has made me determined to make this happen next year. I've yet to do the logistics but I have kept my running diary clear during summer to accommodate this.</div>
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So 2017 will look like this -</div>
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March 11th - D33.</div>
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March 18th - Hardmoors 55.</div>
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April 29th - Highland Fling.</div>
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May 13th - Cateran 55.</div>
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Summer - Personal challenge.</div>
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Late August - Speyside Way Race.</div>
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September 2nd - Glenmore 24.</div>
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October - Jedburgh Ultra (running or marshalling).</div>
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November - Glen Ogle 33.</div>
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I may add extra events, depending how it goes and availability.</div>
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So Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all, I'll start posting again in January.</div>
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Week ending 6th Nov - Sat 33, Sun 13. Weekly total 46 miles.</div>
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Week ending 13th Nov - Mon 3, Fri 3. Weekly total 6 miles.</div>
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Week ending 20th Nov - Mon 3, Fri 3, Sun 8. Weekly total 14 miles.</div>
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Week ending 27th Nov - Mon 3, Fri 3, Sat 18. Weekly total 24 miles.</div>
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Week ending 4th Dec - Thurs 3, Fri 3, Sat 8, Sun 3. Weekly total 17 miles.</div>
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Week ending 11th Dec - Mon 3, Tues 3. Weekly total 6 miles.</div>
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The Deer Runnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08691843397271916672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1780724478319093973.post-65065727663996328552016-11-07T14:41:00.000-08:002016-11-07T14:41:42.843-08:00Jedburgh 3 Peaks UltraPlease accept my apologies, I've neglected my blog for far too long. To be honest, there's not much to report between events. It's the usual story, not putting in the training then a suffer fest. <br />
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29th October - Jedburgh 3 Peaks. I took another Friday off work, this time to make my way to Jedburgh for the 3 peaks ultra marathon. You may recall - Lynne, Skye and I marshalled at this event last year, marshals are offered a place for the event a year after.<br />
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On the way down I passed the Eildons, the hill range the ultra is named after. They didn't look too bad, but they would give me a kick up the backside next day.<br />
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I arrived at the registration car park late afternoon and with nothing planned volunteered to help set up registration. I left at eight to make up drop bags and consume a fish supper. With no TV signal, I hit the sack, hoping for a good nights sleep.<br />
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At six my alarm went off, not long after Richard arrived after driving up from Leeds, a late entrant to the race. It was good to catch up with my WHW support runner before making our way to race briefing. It was short and straight to the point, basically "Don't be a dick".<br />
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The running field were taken to the start line across the road. A squirrel dancing to YMCA, backed up by a couple of unicorns ensured a warm up before starting the race. At eight we were off, running through the main street of Jedburgh which was closed by police.<br />
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It wasn't long before we were running into the borders countryside, bridges, streams, rivers, trails and woods. I settled into the run, not really knowing how to pace it or how I'd get on. I was wearing Hoka Speedgoat trail shoes, only their second outing. The trail was very muddy in places where the Speedgoats held up rather well. They weren't as sure footed as my Saucony Xodus trail shoes but they offered more cushioning for road sections.<br />
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Maxton, first (and fourth) checkpoint. All was going well, I downed a milk shake, can of coke, bag of crisps and a couple of mini rolls before being spotted by John and harassed to leave the checkpoint, old habits die hard. This next section quite literally blew me away, wooden walkways skirted the river tweed with sun kissed tree canopies of green through to gold reflected off the water. The trail followed the meandering river before skirting a golf course and making it's way to the hills.<br />
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Rhymers Stone, checkpoint two. Another milk shake, can of coke and bag of crisps before heading up. The first Eildon was steep, steeper than it looked from a distance. After eighteen miles and a lack of hill work I had to take a couple of breathers on the way up. The views were incredible on such a clear day, I paused at the top of all three peaks to soak up the view, and get my breath back.<br />
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Bowden, checkpoint three. Don't take things too seriously. After the hills we made our way to Bowden where Noanie and Angela had a special treat for runners. Tape guided runners into and onto the play park, a mini assault course allowed runners to stretch their muscles before sliding down the chute, a brilliant and bonkers addition to the race.<br />
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Now back to the Tweed and onto the riverside trail once more, the light changed, later in the day the scenery was even more picturesque, if that's possible. I decided I'm coming back, back to catch this magical glimpse of autumn.<br />
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Maxton, checkpoint four. I was pooped, with 10 miles to go. I sat down to drink a milk shake and coke, no food now. Lorna and John were having none of it, up I got and shuffled out of the checkpoint for the last stretch back to Jedburgh. <br />
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Even though we were returning on the same trail, it felt different, as if running it for the first time. My legs were sore and tired but I managed to run most of the way back. At the road crossing was a bonus watering station, with three miles to go a scoof of coke was just what I needed to get to the finish. <br />
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Down the leaf carpeted tree lined avenue I ran, back into Jedburgh, along the main street, up the grass bank and across the line, 8 hours 20 minutes after leaving. I was done in, I lay down on the grass to recover before making my way back to registration for coffee and soup.<br />
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Unfortunately I didn't make it to the bar that evening, after getting back to the camper it took me 3 hours to finish a bottle of beer and with no appetite I retired to bed missing the celebrations.<br />
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Now it's time to thank Angela and Noanie, for organising a race with passion and compassion, reminding us not to take things too seriously, and hosting an ultra in one of the most beautiful parts of Scotland. Thank you to the team of marshals and helpers, the amount of people willing to volunteer shows how popular this event is. Roll on next year, do I marshal or run? That's the question. <br />
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Week ending 9th Oct - Mon 3, Wed 3, Sat 6. Weekly total 12 miles.<br />
Week ending 16th Oct - Wed 2, Sun 11. Weekly total 13 miles.<br />
Week ending 23rd Oct - Mon 3, Wed 3, Sat 15. Weekly total 21 miles.<br />
Week ending 30th Oct - Mon 3, Sat 38. Weekly total 41 miles.<br />
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The Deer Runnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08691843397271916672noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1780724478319093973.post-49302917278695656072016-10-01T14:29:00.000-07:002016-10-01T14:29:19.134-07:00Marathon de Ben NevisDouble Lairig Mor and more. <br />
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I regularly checked the weather forecast the week leading to the race. It wasn't good, with a "be aware" heavy rain forecast for Fort William I had second thoughts about making my way west for this race. Being Aberdonian, the thought of squandering the entrance fee on a no show didn't sit comfortably. I took the Friday off work to prepare, then left a glorious sunny day for the murky west.<br />
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The forecast was spot on, heavy rain as I checked in to the Glen Nevis camp site and made my way to Fort William for registration. A technical hitch meant registration took longer than planned, then it was time for a fish supper and return to the camp site.<br />
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Wind driven rain hammered off the camper all night making me question why on earth I was here and about to run a mountain ultra in such conditions.<br />
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The alarm goes off at five, barely audible above the sound of heavy rain. After some breakfast I get kitted out in full waterproofs as it's a mile walk to race start at Braveheart car park. It's dark, I need the head torch as I walk along the road. There's a gazebo, a few runners are taking shelter, I join them in an effort to keep warm before race start.<br />
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It's obvious participation numbers are down and there's news from race organisers. The river crossing is in spate, although they are confident getting runners across with the aid of a rope and marshals wearing dry suits, in the event of an emergency runners (and riders as this is also a cycling event) may become stranded. The race will now be an out and back with the half way point at the end of Loch Eilde Mor. I have no problem with this, it's the race directors decision and I don't fancy a swim.<br />
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Lets talk about Lairig Mor though, as we'll be running it twice today. It's a bit like Marmite, runners either love it or hate it. It also just happens to be the last 15 mile section of the West Highland Way Race. During the last six years of ultra running I've covered the Lairig Mor only three times, one Glee training run in daylight and two sleep deprived dark stumbles at the end of the West Highland Way Race. I must admit, I'm not relishing the thought of doing the Lairig twice today.<br />
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I remove my waterproof trousers and pack them away as I'm wearing running leggings underneath. At seven we are off, runners surge ahead up the forest track, I employ my run 30 walk 30 method and soon reach the turn off heading towards Lundavra. A few of us run together along the trail, avoiding the deep puddles and unaware that all the streams will be in spate ahead. Rain, driven by the wind, feels like needles on my face, this saps energy making it a tough day at the office as we try and keep up a good pace.<br />
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The first checkpoint is at Lundavra, the marshal is sheltering behind the information board. We dib in, I don't have a drop bag here so just carry on. There's the first of many deep streams ahead with a photographer strategically placed for action shots. A runner ahead veers off to the left in an attempt to find a narrow crossing, I decide to go splashing through giving the photographer the shot he has been waiting for. Little did we know, this type of stream crossing would be the order of the day, keeping feet dry would be impossible.<br />
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I'm wearing my Saucony Xodus goretex shoes rather than Hokas. I have sacrificed cushioning for grip and begin to regret my decision. Yes, I have lots of grip in the wet conditions and the goretex outer seems to keep my feet warm despite countless dunks in streams, but I begin to get a pain in my heel, as if someone is sticking a hot needle in it. The streams cool the feet every now and then meaning I can ignore the pain and carry on, hoping it doesn't get worse.<br />
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There's a lot of walkers on the trail today, well wrapped up in the foul conditions, making their way to Fort Willam and complete the West Highland Way. I reach the turn off for Kinlochleven and stay on track for Mamore Lodge where checkpoint two is located. It's a great view down to Kinlochleven and the sea loch, even on a dreich day like this.<br />
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I dib in, there's drop bags in the back of the van. I'm about to tuck in when a runner comes over to chat. It's Jeni and she says she is out of the race. "Injured?" I ask. "Nah, I just can't be bothered" is the reply from Jeni. "Well you can't pull out with CBA, particularly after speaking to me as I've a reputation to keep up". <br />
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And so we team up, the half way turn around should be eight miles ahead (it ended up shorter). The track climbs and it's not long before we meet and congratulate the race leader on his way back. "He's only 12 miles ahead", I amusingly remark.<br />
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"Well done" is dished out as runners return, the trail follows the loch, we are both looking for the half way checkpoint which eventually arrives after 18 miles. A land rover is parked by a ruin with two marshals and the dib machine. There's no drop bags here, they are all back at Mamore lodge. Blast, I was looking forward to a can of coke, but no worries, I have a couple bars of chocolate in reserve.<br />
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And so it's time to get back to Fort William. Jeni keeps a good pace on the flat sections which stops me walking. We encourage runners who still have to reach half way, the first of the mountain bikers also pass by on their way to the turn around point.<br />
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We arrive back at Mamore Lodge, there's a barbecue on the go. I down a can of coke and pick at a few biscuits before we head back onto Lairig Mor. We head back to Fort Bill with the wind and rain in our faces once more. Through the deep streams once again, we walk the uphills and run the flat and downhills. <br />
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The heel pain has relocated to my calf and now the Achilles tendon is beginning to protest. Jeni is keeping up a good pace, I consider just walking back but carry on regardless. At every stream crossing I briefly stop and keep my right foot submerged in the freezing water to numb my foot.<br />
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Neil and a few runners catch up, there's good banter as we all reach Lundavra and dib in once more. We are now on the last section with only six miles to go. Cyclists pass fast, we have to step aside at the single track sections to let them through. We pass and will some walkers on who are almost at their destination as we run through the forest. <br />
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We are now on the forest track, I ignore the Achilles tendon pain as we are only 3 miles from Braveheart car park. I apologise and have to take a couple of walking breaks as the track levels out, the conditions today have made this a tough race.<br />
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Seven hours, fifty four minutes and 37 seconds after setting off we arrive back at Braveheart car park, cross the finish line and dib in. At 36.33 miles it's a bit shorter than the official 42 mile route but it feels like more.<br />
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I'd like to thank the race organisers for continuing to hold the race in such difficult circumstances. I'd also like to thank the marshals and volunteers for looking after runners and riders in challenging conditions. Thanks to Jeni for the company and keeping a good pace, I was really chuffed getting in under 8 hours. <br />
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Week ending 25th Sept. Mon 3, Sat 36. Weekly total 39 miles.<br />
Thurs 3, Sat 8. Weekly total 11 miles. <br />
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The Deer Runnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08691843397271916672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1780724478319093973.post-66650457608537326102016-09-23T04:26:00.002-07:002016-09-23T04:26:34.231-07:00A new local event.Can't spend too much time on this post as I'm currently trying to get ready for the Marathon de Ben Nevis, and yes, I've left it late to get organised once again.<br />
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Last week was the inaugural Hatton to Peterhead 10 mile race. I spotted this while browsing The Running Shop website where I just happened to click on events.<br />
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This race was organised by Peterhead Athletics Club and involved a wee bus run from Peterhead to the start at Hatton, I do like a bus trip to the start of a race.<br />
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The weather was perfect, bright and sunny with a brisk following wind. I haven't run a road race for a long time, probably the Fraserburgh half marathon. I had no idea what pace to run and forgot to charge my Suunto which didn't help. I would just have to wing it and try to hit it just right.<br />
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I didn't take anything to eat or drink, there was a water station after 5 miles. <br />
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We walked to the start on the outskirts of Hatton. Quiet back roads to Peterhead is the route, after a quick chat to Neil who was marshalling the race started at 1100.<br />
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The first two miles were slight uphill, nothing too steep. The rest of the route was fairly flat with a couple of undulating sections but I was able to run all of it, passing a couple of runners walking the latter hills.<br />
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I crossed the line in around 1 hour 23 minutes and something seconds. 40th out of 75 starters I was pretty happy with that.<br />
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A medal, bottle of water and slices of orange were dished out at the finish line. There were refreshments available back at registration, about 1 km walk from the finish but I had things to do so did not attend.<br />
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All in all a pleasant and well run event, hopefully they will add it to the calendar next year.<br />
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Right, I'm off, Fort William here I come.<br />
<br />
Week ending 11th Sept - Mon 3. Weekly total 3 miles.<br />
Mon 3, Tues 3, Sat 7, Sun 10. Weekly total 23 milesThe Deer Runnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08691843397271916672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1780724478319093973.post-12902436165273763322016-09-11T03:41:00.000-07:002016-09-11T03:41:16.295-07:00G24It's yet another race I'm unprepared for. Lynne and I are off work, getting the camper ready and making our way to Glenmore via the supermarket for supplies. We arrive at the hayfield at five, park up and I head straight to registration. Julie asks if I'm doing 12 or 24 as there's been a computer glitch and it's not listed. I momentarily consider the 12 before admitting to the 24. "No choice then" says Julie, you're doing the 24.<br />
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We are early this year and get to choose our spot, the hayfield is considered before heading to the same spot we were at last year. This is a handy area, right next to the steps leading to the car park and perfect for grabbing sustenance on every lap.<br />
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The party theme this year is superheros and princesses. I'm afraid my lack of organisation means we don't have outfits for the party so we both have a couple of drinks and play cards in the camper, how unsociable is that.<br />
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Saturday is bright and sunny, the highland scenery is at it's best. We prepare my aid station under the camper awning, I make my way to race briefing and a talk from Sean the medic which is just as well, I remove rings from my fingers. <br />
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At 12 we are off so it's now time to talk tactics. If you've read my previous two G24 race reports you'll be well acquainted with my method of reaching 100 miles. For those who have not, I'll post it again. The loop is 4 miles, multiplied by 24 hours equals 96 miles, one loop per hour is not enough.<br />
I have to do an extra loop to reach 100 miles which I like to do in the first 6 hours. This means I then have 18 hours at one loop per hour and voila, 100 miles. Simples eh? Well no, not quite.<br />
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I'm after my third 100 mile G24 in a row. there's no reason I can't manage using my tried and tested method. I start off doing 45 minute laps, a bit quicker than my planned 50 minute laps but it's okay, I'll settle for this just now.<br />
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Lynne is supporting alone and is surprised to see me every 45 minutes. I chat with various runners, we support and encourage each other around the course. The midges are out in force, especially at the half way water station. I drink water with a sprinkling of midges at this station every lap to stay hydrated. Back at the camper, I have some coke and a snack which will keep me going till around 1730 when I'll have something more substantial to eat. <br />
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All is going to plan, at 1720 I have completed 7 laps and stop at the van. I have soup, a tuna sandwich and coke before setting off again. It's 1740 which means I now have a 20 minute buffer to the hour. One lap an hour takes me to the target of 100 miles.<br />
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The sun goes down fighting, giving a magnificent glow on Loch Morlich and the surrounding forest. On the next lap, I'll take my head torch as I don't want to get caught out without a beam in the dark. I'm averaging around 55 minute laps and keep telling myself to slow it down a bit, take some slower laps, take a breather. <br />
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On the dusk round I chat with another runner from Aberdeenshire, commenting on how we both leave our head torches off till the very last minute. The two mile checkpoint has become midge Armageddon, the marquee is lit where thousands of the blighters are swarming, kudos to the marshals who take it in shifts and endure the biting to see to the runners.<br />
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My head is not in a good place, Lynne has retreated inside the camper due to the midge. It looks comfortable and cosy, I begin to wish I was in the 12 hour race instead so I can wash up, have a beer and get a good nights sleep. This thought is very tempting but I continue on knowing if I get into the early hours of the morning I have broken the back of the race and should get it done.<br />
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After lap 11 it's time for more soup and pick at some snacks. Lynne is going to turn in which is fine by me, she is driving tomorrow. We lay out all I will need through the night, I'll knock on the door first light for breakfast. <br />
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This paragraph is about bodily functions, so if you're eating or squeamish, jump to the next paragraph. The twelves are finishing up, loud music is playing from the party tent which keeps everyone going. I'm not feeling too good and take the opportunity to visit the portaloo. Off I go on lap 14, still not 100 percent but trying to convince myself all is well. I've slowed down a lot on this lap, I concentrate on reaching the half way checkpoint so I can have a sip of water. I usually run / walk the uphill section but this time I'm forced to walk it. At the top I can't get running again, then with minimal warning I throw up at the side of the track. It happens so fast I am shocked, I have never been sick at any race, even outwith running I do all I can to prevent being sick. I shuffle and walk off the hill and back to the camper. I look at what I have been eating, no wonder I've managed to decorate the heather. Take a plastic bag, put in broccoli and Stilton soup, Tuna sandwiches, quorn mini eggs, boiled eggs, quorn sausages, mini chocolate rolls, coke and milk. Shoogle the mix together for the next 12 hours then pour it over the heather. How not to fuel an ultra marathon.<br />
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I sit at the camper awning - cold, shivering and feeling quite demoralised. I look at my mud covered calf muscles, peppered with midges they begin to spasm in the torch light. The time buffer I have built up is ebbing away. Right, I can sit here feeling sorry for myself or I can attempt to keep going. I can't stomach any food or coke so I take a drink of water, change my top and put on a rain jacket for an extra layer. I'm going to walk a round to see how long it takes. I still have a 40 minute buffer to the hour so off I go on lap 15 in an attempt to rescue my race. It's a steady walk, all the sections I've been running seem to take forever. I try to run but feel completely washed out, it's no use, keep walking. On walking up the hill I make my decision, I'm stopping after this lap. At the 2 mile water station I collect my cup and walk on after thanking the marshals. I walk the downhill too, stumbling and almost going over my ankle. I reach the camper and look at my watch, 1 hour 10 minutes to walk a lap but I don't have the energy for this. The buffer has been cut to 20 minutes, I'm still on track for 100 miles but I need to fuel it. I look at the spread of food but can't stomach any of it. <br />
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My mind is made up, I walk over the finish line to complete lap 15 and total 60 miles. Gavin and Bill are at the finish who ask if I want to take a seat or take a sleep to recover before deciding to withdraw. Thanks guys but my mind is made up, my number is put into the fire, I thank the timing marshals and return to the van.<br />
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I'm back at the finish, ready to cheer the runners around the short lap. This has to be the best finish to any running race on the planet. Again and again the runners are cheered as they complete the short lap. 24 hour runners arrive to the air horn as they complete 100 miles and join in the madness that is the short lap. Some runners are fast, some walking, some limping but all have done their bit to reach this ending. At 1200 the air horn blasts an end to the Glenmore 24 2016.<br />
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So, am I disappointed with my result? Not in the slightest. The advantage of the Glenmore 12 and 24 races is entrants can run as much or as little as they like, it's entirely up to the runner what distance they want to complete. This makes it an excellent choice for anyone wanting to do their first ultra which just happens to be easy on the support. I'll take my 60 miles, thank you very much.<br />
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I'd like to thank BAM racing and all the volunteers, marshals and medic who helped make this happen, a unique event in the Cairngorms. Roll on next year, hopefully I'll get another 100 then.<br />
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Mon 3, Sat/Sun 60. Weekly total 63 miles. The Deer Runnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08691843397271916672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1780724478319093973.post-87151325967563389382016-09-01T13:13:00.000-07:002016-09-01T13:13:15.957-07:00Stumbling alongSpeyside Way Ultra 2016 - Trained? Nope. Mentally prepared ? Nope. Organised ? Nope. Caught up and chatted with various runners? Yep. Dodgy stomach? Yep. In the portaloo while runners have started and gone? Yep. Chatting to medic sweeper? Yep. Still confident of putting in a good time? Pfft yep. Beautiful scenery? Yep. Eating and drinking well? Nope. Consistent running? Nope. Ben Aigen taking it's toll? Yep. Lots of walking? Yep. Keeping positive? Nope. A grind to the end? Yep. Personal worst? Yep. Amazing race and organisation? Yep. Thanks to Sarah Louise Grigor and the team for an amazing ultra? Absolutely.<br />
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Glenmore 24 this weekend, lets see what that brings.<br />
<br />
Week ending 31st July - Thurs 3, Fri 3, Sun 15. Weekly total 21 miles.<br />
Week ending 07th Aug - Mon 3, Tues 3, Thurs 3, Fri 10, Sat 10, Sun 3. Weekly total 32 miles.<br />
Week ending 14th Aug - Mon 8, Tues 3, Wed 3, Thurs 3, Fri 3. Weekly total 20 miles.<br />
Week Ending 21st Aug - Mon 3, Tues 3, Sat 37. Weekly total 43 miles.<br />
Mon 3, Thurs 3, Fri 3, Sun 4. Weekly total 13 miles.<br />
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<br />The Deer Runnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08691843397271916672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1780724478319093973.post-4217038470194584712016-07-24T13:24:00.000-07:002016-07-24T13:24:23.258-07:00Press the reset button.I was determined to get back to proper training and managed a couple of recovery runs the week after the West Highland Way. A family holiday to Germany was next at the beginning of July. I packed some running gear but prioritised family time, I wasn't too bothered about running on holiday managing a grand total of 8 miles over two weeks.<br />
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Once home it was time to get organised. I planned to run home from work every day which would give a solid midweek 15 miles and do a long run at the weekend. I entered one of my local races, the Speyside Ultra, giving me just over four weeks to prepare, then the wheels came off. After Wednesday I have been floored by a chest infection where running will have to be postponed for at least a week.<br />
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Once fit enough I'm going to start an ultra training program as soon as possible. Usually I have a race target when completing a program, this one will see me peak around December / January where Scottish ultras have their winter lull. I'm not sure what I'll do at this time of year, whether it's an event or on my own, I'll decide once the training begins.<br />
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Week ending 26th June - Tues 3, Sat 6. Weekly total 9 miles.<br />
Week ending 03rd July - 0 miles.<br />
Week ending 10th July - Wed 6. Weekly total 6 miles.<br />
Week ending 17th July - Tues 2. Weekly total 2 miles.<br />
Mon 3, Tues 3, Wed 3. Weekly total 9 miles.The Deer Runnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08691843397271916672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1780724478319093973.post-54645963234839438382016-06-24T23:28:00.001-07:002016-06-24T23:29:54.640-07:00West Highland Way Race 2016The calm lasted till Friday morning. Even with a day off work I struggled to get ready, only just realising the mammoth task of making soup, packing the camper and deciding what to wear for the race. I wanted to run as light as possible, carry all the mandatory items in my trail shorts pockets and carry a bottle of water in my hand. It just didn't work so I resorted to my trusty North Face back pack with double bottle holder. Despite what I felt was a monkey clinging to my back, this would be a good move for the conditions coming up.<br />
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The east coast is wet, rain batters off the camper van as I get it packed for the adventure ahead. First collect Skye from school then Lynne and my mum from Bucksburn before heading south. Lynne is driving as I relax in the back of the camper. We stop at Finavon for something to eat before making our way to Milgavie. The weather eventually improves, tee shirt weather is reported from Richard my support runner who is waiting at the train station car park.<br />
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We arrive on schedule, around 2200 with plenty of parking spaces, things seem quieter than usual. A quick introduction, team Chalmers is complete. I'm beginning to get a bit nervous now, registration is as quick and efficient as ever where I weigh in at 84.4 kg. There's time for a coffee and some lovely home made cracknell made by Linda-Jo my work colleague. I have more cracknell in my drop bags for Rowardennan and Inversnaid.<br />
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It's 1230 am and time for the race briefing, team Chalmers listen before it's hug time (shake hands for Richard) and they make their way up to the High Street to spectate. Richard will drive to Fort William and catch a train to Tyndrum in the morning. It now dawns on me the task ahead, I've been here before but in much better shape. I make my way to the back and wait for the countdown.<br />
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0100 and we're off, a blaze of light from head torches (apart from mine because I'm Aberdonian) makes it's way through the shopping precinct cheered on by a large crowd, the atmosphere is amazing. It doesn't take long to leave the streetlights behind and run through Mugdock Park.<br />
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There's not a lot of chat so it's head down and get on with settling into a steady pace. The night is perfect for running with a full yellow moon looking over us. I'm the number collector. Sticky numbers have been supplied to the runners, a film crew is here this year to record an episode of the Adventure Show. I have three that have fallen from runners but they will be way ahead. There's no way I'll be able to return them so into my pocket they go ready for the checkpoint bin.<br />
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It's the railway track gate section and I'm a bit grumpy. One runner is following very close to me, I open the gate and turn round to hold it open. He grabs the gate without a word, passes me, opens the next one across the track and lets it slam shut as I reach it. This is not what the West Highland Way Race is about. I try to not let it get to me, so at the next gate I hold it open for a runner who is about 20 second behind me and get a thank you, that's better.<br />
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I almost take a wrong turn, there's two runners ahead, we are alerted by another runner advising to turn left, "It's This Way" he shouts back. Onto the road to Drymen, it's so light I switch off my head torch. There's footsteps behind, it's John who took a wrong turn with a group, realised their mistake, and ended up behind the sweepers. We chat for a short while before John runs on to a great finish.<br />
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Through the forest and onto the trail to Conic Hill, a Cuckoo can be heard in the distance. So far I've been running mostly alone, not by choice mind you, no-one seems to be running at my pace. I walk all the uphills, wanting to save my energy for later on.<br />
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First climb of the day, Conic Hill. It's getting light now although the sun is still to make an appearance. From the path I can see a Scout Group on the summit, waiting for the sunrise on this, the longest weekend day of the year. There's a camera ahead, one camera man and a presenter, fame at last I think but they wait till I'm past before continuing and filming, ah well, they've probably interviewed heaps of runners before me.<br />
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I carefully make my way down Conic, keeping my quads fresh for other descents later in the race. There's a runner ahead, says she is pulling out a Balmaha as her knee has packed in. I encourage her to take some time and think about it, she might recover and be able to continue.<br />
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The camper is at the checkpoint, I slide open the door where my crew are having breakfast, good timing. I steal Lynnes toast and my mums coffee, I'm struggling with my appetite already as that's all I have.<br />
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I leave the checkpoint in confusion, do I follow the Fling route into the trees or make my way to the shore of Loch Lomond like the past? I don't want to go off route. A runner passes me, on her way to the loch so that's where I head. I always struggle at this section between Balmaha and Rowardennan, today is no exception. The steep uphills take their toll, I'm not in any better shape than the Fling and I've another 42 miles to go after Tyndrum, the first negative thought of the day enters my head.<br />
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The Scottish midge, their reputation goes before them. With a muggy cloudy start to the day, conditions are prefect for the blighters. They get everywhere - mouth, throat, nose, ears and eyes. I take off my buff and wipe them from my face and arms every 10 seconds but they have reinforcements.<br />
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I reach Rowardennan, Stan greets me, my drop is handed over, then there's a massive swarm round my head, millions of midges. Midge repellent is administered by the marshals, gallons of it. There's a bench inside the toilet block where the midges reduce to their hundreds, I can just about attempt the contents of my drop bag. I have a Deet egg, Deet flavoured crisps and a Deet coke before I am forced by the swarm to leave.<br />
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I'm on my own, Stan says there's a marshal guiding runners onto the low path. The turn-off is further along the track than I thought, the poor marshal guiding runners onto the track must have drawn the short straw, standing in a midge maelstrom and still smiling through the net.<br />
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This is uncharted territory for me, the new low path to Inversnaid. It's undulating and seems to go on and on. I can't help but think how much easier the higher land rover track is and how much this lower route will add to my time. Then the beauty shines through, it's the bird life I notice first as I skirt the loch. A loud Blue Tit chick screeches at it's mother who frantically stuffs food into it's mouth, it doesn't silence the chick for long. A gaggle of geese float majestically on the loch, seamlessly changing direction at once. Narrow wooden bridges transverses rocky streams, the Ben Lomond water just about to reach it's destination. Eventually the lower track turns back inland and climbs where I re-join the original route. There'e still a bit to go to Inversnaid, I can see hydro pipes at the other side of the loch and I know Inversnaid is on the opposite side. Eventually the next checkpoint comes into view where I am efficiently handed my drop bag and refilled with water. I drop a Nun tablet into one of my two bottles, I'm back to using Nun tablets after a lull due to the heat.<br />
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I don't eat much, a bite of a cheese sandwich and a few crisps, scoof of coke then it's time to meet my crew at Bienglas Farm. The more I run the technical section the longer it seems. I catch up on a couple of runners who are chatting to each other then I fall into step, I want to try and conserve energy and they are keeping a good steady pace. There are a lot of walkers on the trail who obligingly step aside and let runners through.<br />
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I've cleared Loch Lomond now and enter the mid-day sun. There's no shade, the trees have been left behind. I can't believe the temperature, it must be in the twenties, not only that but heat seams to be reflecting off the rocky trail and back up to my face. I start the climb up to Darios Post, it's like hiking abroad. I'm breathing hard, concentrating on one step at a time, someone is at the post watching. I reach the post, say hello to the spectator then soak up the veiw of Loch Lomond, I probably won't see it again till 2017.<br />
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I'm not feeling great, I have a headache and I feel dizzy, then I realise I don't have anything on my head. I move the buff from my wrist to my head, the heat of the material makes me feel worse but I need protection from the sun. I need a stream and I need it quick, five minutes later I arrive at one, take the buff off my head and submerge it in the water. I put the buff on my head without wringing it, the relief is instant as cool water lowers the temperature of my head and flows down my back.<br />
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I make it to Bienglas Farm, pretty exhausted I meet all my crew, including Richard who has been collected from Tyndrum railway station. I take my first seat of the day, on a boulder which just about topples back into the ditch but I keep my balance. My support are very attentive, it's good to see them although Richard can't join me until after the next checkpoint. The heat has taken a lot out of me so I take a while to drink coke and pick at a few things. Richard fills my water bottles, I don't drop a Nun tablet in this time. It's time to leave, I advise my crew I'm going to take it real easy on this section, not because I want to but because I need to. Another runners crew soaks my buff in water just as I leave the checkpoint which is much appreciated.<br />
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The heat is relentless, there's no shade. I have a system to keep my head cool. Take the wet buff and put it on letting it flop back down the neck. My head is cooled as drops of water go down my back. Once the top part is dry, turn it over so the head is cooled and the water drops down to my back once more. Doing this system means a wet buff lasts around 15 minutes before it's completely dry and I need to find a stream again.<br />
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There's plenty of streams with clear pools of water on this part of the way. It's so hot I'm tempted to go and sit in one of the pools. I consider stopping to dip my feet in a pool but decide against it, relying on the wet buff to cool me down.<br />
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I now start my run 30 walk 30 method, it's early in the race to begin this which shows how unfit I am, probably more unfit than when I did the Highland Fling. Negative thoughts are entering my head so I shoo them away and concentrate on reaching Auchtertyre.<br />
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The pedestrian tunnel and I can hardly crouch down. Then it's the climb up to the track to cow pat alley. I'm struggling on the hills, there's no escaping that fact. Once on the flat it's back to 30 / 30 again, through a remarkably dry CPA and down I go. My left foot kicks a stone, my right tries to come to the rescue, also kicks a stone and it's time for a push up in the dirt. I get up, pride makes me run on and I give myself a quick check. Other than a dirty shirt and few minor scrapes I am fine. <br />
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Donald is ahead, he is supporting Norma Bone who would go on to be the oldest female finisher of the WHW race, a great result. I chat to Donald for a while then make my way over the roller coaster section. My pace is slow, I want to get this hilly section over and done with so I can run on the flat again. I can hear traffic so I must be nearing the road, it's motorbikes I mostly hear, riders giving it all on such a beautiful day.<br />
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Once across the road I run walk into Auchtertyre checkpoint where Richard is waiting. He fetches my weigh in card, time to squash the scales. 80.4kg, I've lost 4 kg and am advised to watch my hydration and drink to thirst. I take a seat in the camp chair, I feel about as exhausted as I normally do at this point running the Fling. Ma Chalmers has made sarnies, egg and tuna. I eat half and have a cup of home made lentil soup then spill it on the ground. A change of socks is required here, a couple of hot spots have been making their presence felt. Richard is all set to go, I half joking ask if he likes walking. Little do I know, we will mostly be walking.<br />
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I've been looking forward to running (walking) with Richard, I've never had a support runner start this early in the race. We make our way towards Tyndrum, I'm unable to keep a steady pace. We run slowly for as far as I can before my exhausted mind takes over and forces me to walk. Chat is easy, we talk about the race last year when Angela and I were supporting Richard. Fiona is ahead, eating mashed tatties as she goes. I comment on how tough the day has been. "It's only tough if you think it's tough" the master says, who is well on her way to collect her twelfth goblet. Such positivity is something I have still to learn. As we shuffle / walk along the trail I realise how well I trained and ran the race in 2013 as I am well behind that schedule.<br />
George and Karen are at Tyndrum so it's a quick hello, shake hands and a hug before continuing. We are on the motorway section, the sun is still hot despite it being late afternoon. My buff still needs soaked in streams which are few and far between here. It seems longer than I remember which shows what state of mind I am in. Each bend completed reveals another long straight and I begin to get frustrated. I apologise to Richard for walking most of the time, I should be fitter and able to keep a steady running pace. He says he doesn't mind and is enjoying being on the Scottish trails again.<br />
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Bridge of Orchy, I head straight to the hotel car park, I'll dab my race chip on the way out. The car park is bathed in sun, I take a seat in the heat and consume half a sandwich and soup. On the way out I have a couple of scoofs of coke and head to Hamish, the timing chip marshal. He says I'm looking good but I don't feel it. Richard and I make for Jelly Baby Hill.<br />
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It's a bit of a climb, once again we are behind Fiona. There's flags at the summit, I can hear the Star Wars theme tune being played on a whistle. Murdo is here on his yearly vigil handing jelly babies out to runners. I accept mine and move on to the downhill leading to Inveroran. The evening is bathed in sunlight, scenery spectacular but I'm not really in a good place. We are stepping and stumbling down the rocky descent getting passed by other runners when a sudden urge takes over. I've had enough. I've had enough of the stumbling and shuffling and general negativity. Richard is about 20 yard ahead and I let go. I'm going to go flat out. Off I go, striding out, each footstep landing perfectly on this boulder or that. Richard, hearing my footsteps behind speeds up, probably thankful he can run again. I pass him by and let fly. There's a runner and support ahead, I pass them at full pelt, they comment on me having a second wind and the magic of Murdos jelly babies. Faster I go, I don't want this exhilaration to end. Richard says we need to send Murdos jelly babies for drug testing. The end of the downhill is near but I'm not finished yet and I know I'm going to pay for this later on. Full stride now, I'm going flat out with the sun on my face and wind in my hair on a beautiful Scottish evening, I can hear Richards footsteps close behind. Once on the level I walk alongside Richard, it takes a long time for my heart rate to recover. Little did I know it at the time, that descent would be the highlight of my WHW 2016 race.<br />
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It's now evening and the sun is still doing it's best to overheat me. We walk the long gradient onto Rannoch Moor. It's far longer than I remember and in my negative state I start to get annoyed at the trail, annoyed at the distances involved, annoyed at my exhaustion. Once on the flat it's time for the 30 / 30 method which works quite well for a while before fatigue shows up again. The sun dips behind the hills and the temperature begins to drop. There's a bit of a breeze, on the one hand I'm grateful for respite from the sun, on the other I don't recognise my core temperature drop. We are walking into Glencoe now, my legs have nothing more to offer than a stumble over the rocky trail.<br />
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We are nearing the checkpoint, Richard runs ahead to alert Lynne, Heather and Skye. I reach Glencoe in a bad way, probably worse than I did during the 2012 race. I don't go straight to the van, Richard brings my request for a coke as I make my way to the facilities. I'm hoping to get composed before seeing my support.<br />
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I bump into Lois on the way back who remarks how good I am looking with the last two sections to go, looks can be deceiving as I am exhausted. I'm still in a tee-shirt and begin to cool. I put on a puffer jacket and sit in the front of the van with my legs covered. I start to shiver uncontrollably and request a hot cup of tea, I don't need anything else. I sit sipping the tea, the mug cupped in my hands. My crew are concerned as I drink the tea, I watch the surface ripple in circles due to the shakes. I can see the devils staircase out the van window, menacing and taunting in the fading light. I inform my crew I need a 15 minute nap and drift in and out of sleep for the next 10 minutes. It doesn't revive me, in fact it does quite the opposite. I take another look at the hills ahead, I don't want to be a casualty or have to be rescued from the hills, I've been in this game long enough to know when my race is over and when to pull the plug. "I'm sorry, it's a DNF folks" I announce, the words taste bitter. There's some discussion where Richard offers to walk me to the finish but I don't think I can even make it up over the Devils.<br />
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My chip and tag are cut off and handed to the marshals. The engine is started and the van makes it's way to Fort William. Along the access road we drive slow, passing runners about to enter their second night with their support. Half asleep I wish them well and wave through the window.<br />
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So where did it go wrong? The answer is contained right here in this blog. Lack of running and practically no hill training. No preparation, leaving it till the Friday to start packing and thinking about getting into race mode. An attempt to get through by experience alone which just isn't enough.<br />
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Every cloud has a silver lining as they say. If I had completed the race, I might have thought such a low training regime was an acceptable way to prepare for a big event and stumble along not training properly. As it is, I have been given a kick up the backside. I need to take my ultra running seriously and put the miles in for events. I need ultra running in my life, I have to make room for it, I have to force myself to get out the door and get back into shape. I'll be back.<br />
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I'd like to thank Ian Beattie and all who organise and put on Scotlands number one ultra running event. I'd also like to thank all the marshals, volunteers, medics, photographers and anyone else who helped stage this iconic race, even though I didn't see you all.<br />
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Most of all I'd like to thank team Chalmers (Lynne, Mum, Skye) for feeding and hydrating me and for just being there at the checkpoints. Thanks to Richard, who drove all the way from Leeds to support and run with me, it was much appreciated.<br />
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Tues 3, Sat 71. Weekly total 74 miles. <br />
<br />The Deer Runnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08691843397271916672noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1780724478319093973.post-27767002760536753062016-06-14T13:14:00.000-07:002016-06-14T13:14:36.961-07:00Weeks 22 and 23.Thought I'd better post an update before the West Highland Way race this weekend. There's not a lot to report to be honest. I sacrificed training for quality time, spending the weekends with my family rather than spending hours pounding the trails.<br />
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A weekend in Amsterdam gave plenty of places to run and even though I packed running gear I did not venture out at all. On the other hand we did walk a lot, as you do when on a city break, so if time on feet counts towards training for the WHW then I don't feel so bad.<br />
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This past weekend was another one with zero miles. Eight on Saturday and eight on Sunday was the intention but once again I settled for family time. A weekend in the camper with a leisurely 8 mile cycle kicked off taper week leaving a couple of three miles leading to the race.<br />
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So, after having personal worst times in all races this year, doing the least amount of training I have ever done and having such a leisurely taper, panic will surely set in. Well it hasn't. I'm remarkably calm as I type this. I still have to shop, look out my gear, pack and do a lot of organising but I feel laid back. This doesn't mean I am underestimating the task ahead, I just think I will be able to take things as it comes.<br />
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I would like to complete the race in around 30 hours, anything under would be a bonus and I would certainly be delighted with a finish.<br />
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I have taken Friday off to rest and prepare before picking up my ever suffering support, "team Chalmers". I recon we should arrive at Milngavie around 10 o'clock which should be perfect timing to register and calm the nerves.<br />
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I have a support runner, Richard whom I supported last year is making his way north. He will park his car at Fort William before catching the train to Tyndrum and be ready to accompany me from Auchtertyre. This is much appreciated and shows the WHW spirit, a good turn deserves another.<br />
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So here's to the race this weekend, the main aim will be to enjoy ourselves with like minded runners and crew, if I can recreate the feeling and atmosphere I felt at the Cateran then it will be job done.<br />
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Week ending 5th June. Tues 3. Weekly total 3 miles.<br />
Week ending 12th June. Tues 3, Fri 3. Weekly total 6 miles.The Deer Runnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08691843397271916672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1780724478319093973.post-81274877262045566462016-05-31T13:55:00.000-07:002016-05-31T13:55:34.469-07:00Weeks 19,20 and 21The Cateran trail marker post emblems contain a red heart. Whoever dreamt of creating this route through such a beautiful and diverse part of Scotland must have known they were onto something good. It's not as popular as the West Highland Way or possibly the Great Glen Way but in a way this just adds to the charm. The same can be said of the Cateran Ultra races, with a choice of 55 or 110 miles over a long weekend, this is a special festival organised and run by a dedicated and hard working team.<br />
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Gulabin Lodge was race head quarters with a field containing marquee and camping area. There was food for runners, registration pasta dishes and pizza on Friday with breakfast and main course dishes cooked by Helen and Sandra on Saturday. <br />
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My entry in the WHW Race this year meant the 110 was out, so I had to settle for the 55. I took the Friday off work to pack the camper and head to Spittal. I arrived in time to see the 110 runners depart at 1600 then helped assemble the marquee. After volunteering for kitchen duties I prepared for the race ahead and had an early night.<br />
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The alarm went off at 0530, I immediately hit the snooze button and fell asleep. I woke with a start at 0620, blast, the race kicks off at 0700. I got dressed quick and was having my breakfast when a call was shouted out for race briefing. I grabbed my toast and dropped off my drop bags and completely missed the briefing. Oh well, it was a clear cold morning, time to check on the 110 race progress. Bad news, my Cateran training buddy Alyson pulled out of the race with an injury. <br />
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Time for a walk, we all followed Karen across the road, over a style to the start at the bridge. I stayed at the back, right at the back. At 0700 we were off, the field of runners left at a very quick pace. <br />
Unexpectedly, I was left right at the back and alone, except for a Kiwi and a Scot about one hundred yards behind. This was a new experience for me, I've never been in the vicinity of sweepers before. It was something I found disconcerting, hearing their chat behind as I settled into the race.<br />
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I could see runners ahead, I was about 1 minute behind. The group ahead entered the field and followed the Land Rover track. Some have done that in the past, not realising the route turns left and follows the fence line up a steep hill to the next style. The group were way ahead, so I turned left and followed the trail thinking I'll cheekily make it to the style before them. On reaching the style I noticed the group had carried on past the track that leads to the style. I yelled for the group to stop and turn back before continuing along the trail.<br />
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The group caught up, and passed me by. Dalnagar castle checkpoint passed, then I found myself alongside Patricia, one of the Fling photographers. Chat made the road section fly by, we turned onto the first big climb of the day. I held the gate open for some runners then was perturbed to find the sweepers Keith and Ian come through. I thought to myself "are the majority of runners this year going too fast"?<br />
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Huge styles, some of the biggest on the route were here, runners ahead didn't know the gates were unlocked and queued to go over the styles. I took great delight in opening the gates as runners found themselves balanced at the top of styles, this happened on more than one occasion.<br />
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We were on the trails running toward Loch Shandra, there was some screaming ahead as runners got their feet wet going through the boggy section. A group of us approached, I opted for the "sod it, run straight through" method and just about fell on my backside in the slippery mud.<br />
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At the loch I chatted with an American, on his holidays all the way from Minnesota if I remember correctly. Glenisla checkpoint appeared where I needed to use the facilities. After a quick bite to eat I left the checkpoint where one drop bag was left for the runner bringing up the rear.<br />
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I climbed the steep hill out of the checkpoint expecting to see runners ahead but they were gone. I put my head down and concentrated on keeping a steady pace. I caught up and passed some runners after the farms and found myself alone for most of this section to Alyth. The day turned out to be a cracker, with clear views for miles from the trail. Through Alyth, house windows were open with inhabitants playing loud music as I headed towards the checkpoint at the Den.<br />
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The sun was shining, the grass looked comfy, it took all my willpower to keep standing and ate a little of the contents of my drop bag before heading off toward Blairgowrie.<br />
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More good chat with runners on the uphill, we were making our way to the forest where we bumped into Alan, the first 110 runner I came across. I stayed alongside Alan through the forest, getting news of the events of the night before and reminiscing about the 110 race the previous year, he was having a great race and running strong.<br />
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After the forest I said farewell and told Alan I would see him at the end. As I ran ahead a thought came to mind. I ran the second half of the 110 race with Alan last year and thoroughly enjoyed the company. I wasn't having a particularly good run today, I'm going to run the rest of the race with Alan once more. We ran down the hill and into Blairgowrie checkpoint together.<br />
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Couldn't eat. Forced down my boiled egg, scoffed some coke and milk shake then rounded up Alan before thanking the Minions and leaving for Bridge of Cally.<br />
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We walked up the hill towards the fruit factory in the company of another runner (I'm sorry, I can't remember the name) then skirted the fields before making our way up to the bog section. It wasn't bog, in fact this was the driest conditions I've seen the Cateran.<br />
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Bridge of Cally checkpoint and I felt like crap. Liquids only, I couldn't face any food. We left for the long march up through the forest with the late afternoon sun bathing the trail. Alan was running well considering the distance he had covered. Runners passed, some straight through, others chatted for a while before leaving and running ahead.<br />
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I ran ahead of Alan for a while before waiting for him to catch up, when he did he was with Lois. All three of us crossed what was usually another bog section which was remarkably dry. Beautiful scenery, bright evening sun, good company, all three of us running, a thought suddenly entered my head, one that's never happened in a race before. I didn't want the race to end. I didn't care about times or crossing the finish line, this was turning out to be the perfect ultra on my favourite trail.<br />
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There was a foot bath, Wilson was manning the foot spa, a fight against some tree attacking fungus. It was not far after this when Alan came out with a suggestion. He was at it again, he wanted a finish line display like the one last year. I refused, explaining I felt like an imposter having not done 110 miles this year but Alan was adamant. Aeroplanes, arms wide we would put on a display, Alan and his ice man George.<br />
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Kirkmichael has an unmanned checkpoint where everything is finished apart from cola bottles, we each took a handful then made our way to Enochdu, the final checkpoint.<br />
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Alan and his support offered food, I opted for creamed rice, something I can usually scoff by the tin but not now. Two forkfuls and that was it, back to coke and milkshake.<br />
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It was on the long uphill towards the hills where we planned our finish line display. We would start on the finish home straight, Alan in front of me, before breaking, one to the right and one to the left, criss crossing all the way to the finish line for a man hug and shake hands,<br />
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Runners were scattered across the trail to the last climb of the day. Good company and chat with Linda helps the time pass. The finish could be seen from the top of the hill, still bathed in sun. Down the rocky trail we went before running over the hump back bridge and taking up action stations.<br />
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Alan first, then me, arms out wide before the squadron leader gave the order to break, one to the right and one to the left. We twisted and turned, meeting for the man hug and handshake before crossing the Cateran finish line once more. <br />
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I'd like to thank Karen, George, Mike, the marshals, volunteers and cooks for their hard work in holding the best ultra event in Scotland, all under difficult circumstances. As I posted on Facebook, you are all superstars.<br />
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Week ending 15th May. Mon 3, Tues 3, Wed 3, Sat 55. Weekly total 64 miles.<br />
Week ending 22nd May. Sun 4. Weekly total 4 miles.<br />
Mon 3, Tues 5, Sat 13, Sun 20. Weekly total 41 miles. <br />
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The Deer Runnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08691843397271916672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1780724478319093973.post-21943106071108509092016-05-11T13:47:00.000-07:002016-05-11T13:50:33.117-07:00Weeks 17 and 18The Highland Fling. I've already posted how low my training has been and how I'm not expecting much from races this year. The Highland Fling was no exception, so before I go into the race report I'll let you know my fifth Highland Fling was the slowest by a long way. This is turning out to be a year of PW's.<br />
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I took the Friday before off so I could prepare the camper van. A stop off for fuel (for the camper van and me) was in order before making my way to Tyndrum. It took a while to pack and I still had my drop bags to do so I stopped off at Loch Dochart to boil some eggs and pack food. It was a beautiful late afternoon which gave a good sign of nice weather for the race ahead.<br />
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With Tyndrum camp sites full I had previously requested an overnight stop in the Green Welly Car Park. A quick response said this would be fine, however there were plenty of spaces to stop in the tourist car park where I stayed for the duration of the race. A fish supper was consumed while watching a film before I turned in for the night, I had an early bus to catch.<br />
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I do like a bus ride before a race, this was another stroke of genius from the race organisers. Camp at the finish and then jump on the 0345 bus to Milngavie, just in time to start the race at 0600. The railway station car park was a hive of activity, it also had the aroma of deep heat mixed with tiger balm. Drop bags were dropped, registration was done, number pinned on which left only one thing, the usual long queue for the loo, only this time there were no queues. Race organisers had supplied enough portaloos to service a music festival, something I'm sure most ultra runners are grateful for before a big race.<br />
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0600 and we were off, cheered through the streets and onto the West Highland Way once more. The morning was cool but it didn't take long to warm up. I took things real easy, good chat with Norrie made the miles fly by before he ran ahead then it was time to pack away my jacket, the rest of the race would be tee shirt weather. With snow experienced only days earlier, I had full waterproofs in my rucksack, needless to say all stayed packed away for the duration of the race.<br />
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I took a refill of water at Drymen and headed for the first hill of the day, the iconic Conic. I felt okay going through the forest, chatting to Ian and some others before going up hill. Half way up I suddenly realised, apart from my two Cateran outings, I had hardly completed any hill work during 2016. This was going to be a big factor in my PW fling, I was going to struggle. Of course, on such a sunny day the view over Loch Lomond was at it's best with snow capped mountains in the distance. I descended as quick as possible to the checkpoint at Balmaha. <br />
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With not being in great shape I packed more food than usual in each of my drop bags. There would be no run through strategy today, I just wasn't fit enough. I chatted to Angela for a while before departing around 20 minutes later having consumed most of my food.<br />
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The short steep climb out of Balmaha was a wake up call, my legs were feeling weak already, I began to doubt I would see this race through to the end. Up and down I went with my heart rate all over the place, I just couldn't get into any rhythm. It was between Balmaha and Rowardennan I spotted Fiona ahead. Right, I thought. I'll tag along behind Fiona knowing a good steady pace will be run which was just what I needed. Like a stalker I followed or ran beside Fiona all the way to Rowardennan which did indeed sort out my pace. A runner who was following me said thanks for keeping a good steady pace, I was quick to shift the praise over to Fiona.<br />
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Rowardennan was a long pit stop where I had to use the facilities, I estimate about half an hour here before leaving for Inversnaid.<br />
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This section now has a choice of two routes, the Fling required the traditional forest track but the full WHW in June will take the lochside track. I tried to look out for the lower track but didn't see where to turn off, I'll need to do some homework before June.<br />
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In years gone by I have used my run 30 walk 30 method for the long uphill land rover track but not this year, I settled for walking all the uphill sections. On the loch side path to Inversnaid I seemed to have a bit of a headache, I just couldn't put a finger on it. It may have been dehydration on such a fine day but I was drinking to thirst. I gave myself a reminder to take a couple of paracetamol at the checkpoint.<br />
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Inversnaid was another 20 minute stop before hitting the technical trail. I usually relish this section but not today, it seemed to go on for miles. It was a long time before I reached Darios post and left the loch behind. Bienglas Farm couldn't come quick enough where I needed another long stop.<br />
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The last section and home straight, I knew I would finish the race, I also knew I would get in well after 13 hours. As I walked the uphill parts of the trail, I was passed by countless runners, there was nothing I could do but concentrate on my own pace to get in. The last of the up hills at the roller coaster section completely wiped me out although I was able to let go going downhill and made up a few places. Once on the flat and with three miles to go I was able to keep running, something I was most surprised at given the struggle so far. Once at the river section and approaching the piper I tried to resist the urge to walk, unsuccessfully. I walked at the barrier section before being encouraged to run then entered the best finish straight in ultra running. The red carpet led the way home and across the line to complete my fifth Highland Fling.<br />
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There was a lot of online praise for the Race Organiser John Duncan and his team, deservedly so. Time to add mine. <br />
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Every year some great touches and tweaks are added to this excellent race, here is my experience of Fling organisation and hospitality -<br />
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An early morning bus to the start.<br />
Well laid out drop bag organisation.<br />
Fast and efficient registration.<br />
Heaps of portaloos, at the start and throughout the race.<br />
Marshals at every road crossing on route.<br />
Service and being waited upon at every checkpoint.<br />
Great pictures by professional and amateur photographers.<br />
A brilliant home straight.<br />
A seating recovery area just over the finish line.<br />
Tea, coffee, soup and rolls.<br />
Beer.<br />
A dedicated shower trailer.<br />
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And that's without experiencing the ceilidh.<br />
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So thanks once again John and everyone involved for providing a top class race, the best in the country.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0abBM7rXI5FfAO0ildhyphenhyphenlmg2zeyc4vhlH0452FzWXd2F20CCggQAjzpfcEhCVb11ZSnKv9c9mjOE6zPBIoL91w4lFL73s99tKeUWL9p0CJLx1QjpR6-P9p9zjoP5CboLQUsCIS1BcOEs/s1600/Fling.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0abBM7rXI5FfAO0ildhyphenhyphenlmg2zeyc4vhlH0452FzWXd2F20CCggQAjzpfcEhCVb11ZSnKv9c9mjOE6zPBIoL91w4lFL73s99tKeUWL9p0CJLx1QjpR6-P9p9zjoP5CboLQUsCIS1BcOEs/s320/Fling.jpg" width="234" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photograph by Patricia Carvalho Photography</td></tr>
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Week ending 1st May. Wed 3, Sat 53, Sun 3. Weekly total 59 miles.<br />
Wed 3, Sat 6, Sun 14. Weekly total 23 miles.<br />
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The Deer Runnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08691843397271916672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1780724478319093973.post-28922774632920779562016-04-28T13:01:00.000-07:002016-04-28T13:01:11.553-07:00Week 16Some ramblings before the Fling. It's Thursday night and true to form I still have to get ready for this weekends ultra, the famous Highland Fling. Skye and Lynne have other plans this weekend so I'm going solo on this event for the first time. I am staying in Tyndrum Friday night / Saturday morning and catching the 0345 bus to Milngavie. <br />
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Mileage is well down but there's a couple of reasons for this. Late finishes at work makes it impractical to run home, even though it's only three miles. Lift offers from a colleague have been too convenient meaning midweek runs are down. I've also been running with Lynne at the weekend, enjoying the company and helping increase Lynnes mileage. On Sunday we completed 9 miles, Lynnes longest run yet. I should have continued and put higher training miles in but I was content and called it tapering for the Fling.<br />
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Niggles - the calf is still making it's presence felt. I didn't manage to get an appointment with the physio so I'm going to have to "wing it" as they say. On the same leg I feel like I have shin splints, and with such low training I have no idea where that came from.<br />
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I better get ready, the forecast is cold so it looks like I'll have to be prepared and pack winter kit.<br />
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Mon 3, Tues 3, Sun 9. Weekly total 15 miles.The Deer Runnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08691843397271916672noreply@blogger.com0