Arran Day 1

After hauling myself round the Blyth 10K, I suddenly realised that I had not actually done any runs of significant distance, and certainly not on consecutive days, for rather a long time. This made me rather anxious about upcoming trips, and so when I spotted the 2-day Ultra Tour of Arran was the next weekend, I made a spur of the moment decision to enter. It wasn't exactly the cheapest of events, especially if you added in the cost of driving there and taking the ferry over/back, so I decided to save on accommodation fees and just sleep in my car!!!

I drove up to Ardrossan straight after work on Friday and luckily made the last ferry of the day, so arrived at registration about 9:45pm (it closed at 10pm) in time to get my number, my tracker, have my kit checked, catch up with a few old friends who happened to be part of the race crew, and then settle down for the night in the back of my car.

Day 1 route

Saturday dawned clear and bright...if rather cold. Everyone huddled together for the 8:15 briefing trying to keep warm. Although it was suggested that I was "brave" to be wearing shorts, I was also wearing my hat, gloves and waterproof out of my compulsory kit :-)  I didn't know how I would feel over the course of the weekend (especially having only finished my antibiotics that morning) so I decided to set off midpack. Unfortunately, I soon realised that this was not quite the pace for me, as people started to walk up even the slightest inclines. Once we had jogged along the prom and past the Brodick ferry terminal the path widened into a country lane, so I managed to ease my way past several people and start running at a more comfortable pace.

Lovely to look at - less lovely
to run along

Day 1 covered the southern half of Arran with us initially visiting Lamlash and Whiting Bay on the eastern coast, then Kildonan to the south and returning further inland. The first section of the course was nothing out of the ordinary with me moving up the field as we climbed uphill, and then seeing several men run past me on a rougher descent down into Lamlash. I caught a few back up for a chat on the flat but then we hit my least favourite section of the day.....the rough beach, where all the uneven stones were also covered in slippery seaweed. I felt like I was crawling along it, as the instability of my foot placement caused unpleasant niggles in my right shin (that pesky stressfracture again!!) whereas all the guys seemed able to fly over the terrain by "trusting" in their feet! Having slightly shorter legs than some of them didn't help, though I pitied some of the smaller ladies in the field. Although this "beach" section was about 3 miles long, we were constantly on and off the beach - with the "off beach" stretches were on boardwalk. This boardwalk was great to run along, despite the steps of varying size and length, but (possibly due to erosion) it required a good clamber off the rocks onto each section of it. Whilst on the beach, I tried to look ahead and focus on foot placement, but this meant I kept crashing into overhead dangling branches...honestly, you couldn't win! I was probably the happiest person on the course when the route climbed steeply up and over into Whiting Bay!!

Looking over at Holy Island

As I ran through Whiting Bay, it was nice to get some support from locals out walking.....and funny to hear their suggestions I'd have a suntan by the end of the day (admittedly, I'd stripped off to my vest, shorts and backpack by now as the sun was out, but the wind meant it wasn't really that warm!) as they were in thick jackets! As I hadn't had any of my food and drink, I didn't have any need to visit the Pit Stop but a marshal directed me up a steep slope off the road towards the village hall. I presumed it was to get my number checked or cross some timing point, but there was nothing obvious and as soon as I ran up the steps into the hall I was looking for the way out. Having found the exit, I wasn't sure which way to go - up the hill behind the hall was a dead end so I went back and shouted to the marshal down on the main road asking for directions. I then found out that I had to rejoin the road she'd waved me off.....and that some of the others had been allowed to continue straight on without detouring up to the Pit Stop. This was only "slightly" annoying as I now had no clue how many people had run past as there was no one obviously on the course in front of me.



A lovely climb out of Whiting Bay



You'll couldn't fault the views!

I really enjoyed the climb out of Whiting Bay - lots of tight switchbacks on a narrow dirt trail with no one to see in front or behind. I was slightly worried about taking the wrong route when some dubious signage could have indicated I should either stop climbing and head into the woods, or just carry on up. I chose the latter and was then relieved to see another sign near the top of a grassy knoll (along with some surprised tourists). A tiny descent and the climb continued, but this time along a forestry road so I could see the guys I was reeling in (and passing :-) ). I managed to stay away from those I'd passed on the downhill this time, and even overtook another guy on a very short road section. The last section down to the very south coast of the island was rougher underfoot but I managed to maintain some pace here and was soon trotting along the flat to Pit Stop 2.

The mossy part of the bog
rather than the muddy part

This Pit Stop was at the side of the road, and I wanted to go it to get a flapjack bar, but it also gave me a chance to say Hi to the Rat Race head honcho Jim Mee, whom I hadn't seen for years (I used to be a doctor for their events), as he was helping out there. As soon as I headed away from the coast, I hit a really steep road climb, which was almost impossible to run, never mind whilst eating a flapjack bar - it was such a relief to turn off it into the woods again. I caught up to a young lad (Martin) running his first ultra and the next couple of miles ticked by as we chatted about all sorts of things sports and exercise related (though I doubted he knew I was old enough to be his mother....scary thought!!). We had just turned onto a nice runnable trail and were easing into a good pace, when we suddenly spotted a flag indicating we needed to head off into some rough boggy ground. I was definitely less sure of my footing from that point so Martin soon disappeared off into the trees as I floundered around in wet moss, mud and roots.

A doll "drowning" in the Bog

A voodoo collection?

I had heard about the “Bog of Doom” and so was pleasantly surprised to find a more or less “runnable” couple of miles on trackless ground along the side of a loch and through woods as long as you didn’t mind wet feet and a bit of slip sliding away. Just as I was secretly celebrating I hit the real stuff....and when I say real, I mean shin deep mud, the kind that sucks you down and tries to hold you prisoner. In fact, it did nearly hold me prisoner at one point, or rather it held my shoe prisoner while my foot (and the rest of me) tried to escape! At least I didn’t lose the shoe completely as I still had 10miles to go, but the grass I tried to clean my hands on was just as unforgiving....that mud was staying with me! To make it more amusing there were collections of bones and flags dotted around, and dolls buried up to their waists in the mud....and even some eerie music coming out from behind trees. This almost caused me to miss a piece of tape marking the direction to go, as I found myself being drawn towards the music!!!!

"Nearly" at the road

 

Eventually I came across a marshal who reassured me that I’d almost made it and was nearly out to a forestry road. He lied.....or at least significantly distorted the meaning of the word “nearly”, but when I did eventually get there, I ran past (yes uphill again) a family out for a Saturday stroll and got a few funny looks!

The trail into PS3

Up and down I went, on forestry road and single track trails by streams and through woodlands (these shady ones were the best as the sun was rather hot once you were sheltered from the wind) and eventually I came into Pit Stop 3. I was really surprised to be greeted at the first lady as a previous marshal had told me there were “7 ahead of you” and I’d presumed they meant females rather than just runners in general.

I knew that I was now on the final stretch so enjoyed trying to turn my legs over a little bit on the country roads that led into the back of Lamlash again, but then I was greeted with an endless steep hot climb up a hillside. Just when you’re looking the most hot and bothered you can be, a photographer looms ahead of you, by at least he had the decency to let me know that even the leading men had walked up that incline! From there it was a relatively straightforward run down to the finish, though I doubted my navigation again (a helpful passerby told me I was just over a mile from the finish when I still had 2.5miles to go) especially when I found myself on a dead end residential street.

Crossing the line in Brodick

A cut through at the end of the street led me to the top of the finish field and from there it was a lovely run down over the grass to the finish gantry. It turned out that I was 6th overall by the finish announcer seemed more impressed with my age (I don’t think there was anyone in Brodick that didn’t hear how old I am) than my gender!!!

I washed myself with a paddle in the stream and then went to the local supermarket to start refuelling for day 2.....though luckily a lovely couple took pity on me and let me use the bath in their B&B when they heard that I was sleeping in my car.....bliss!!