News Update....

Since I went straight back to work on returning from Comrades, I could almost believe that it never happened, but my energy levels may tell a different story. I am, however, being sensible and making sure that I recover fully as there is little time before my next big race.



The GB kitbox!!!!



British Athletics have recently officially announced the team for the IAU Trail World Championships, which take place in Llanwrst, Wales, on Saturday 6 July. I am delighted to have been given the opportunity to pull on a British vest again (and I have asked for a vest rather than a croptop, as I suspect that large numbers of midgies can be found in the Welsh forests).

GB & NI team for the IAU Trail World Championships:



Men                                                                               Women                                               

Lee Kemp                                                                    Tracy Dean

Ricky Lightfoot                                                             Fionna Cameron

Matt Williamson                                                          Joanna Zakzewski

Iain Ridgway                                                                Isobel Wykes

Andrew James                                                            Sandra Bowers

Craig Holgate   



Yes, I spelt it correctly!



"The course sees the athletes complete five circuits of a 15km loop in the Gwydyr Forest, with the underfoot conditions being a mixture of trail and forest tracks, including 558 metres of climbing."

In order to prepare for the race, I am going to have to swop my road legs for trail legs, with Likeys kindly providing me with some new kit and shoes to help the transition (no excuses for not getting out once recovered now!!!).

    

Right to the line.....





An "expo massage" to  iron out the in-flight kinks

Lying in bed at 3:30am, after being woken by a text message from a clubmate already getting himself ready to go to the start, I cannot get my head around the fact that today is "Comrades Day". The day when I, along with 19,721 other people, will attempt to run 87 km from the sea-level City Hall in Durban to the cricket oval in Pietermaritzburg (at 650m of altitude) via a high point of 824m.



The stats for this, the 88th year, showed 18,259 entrants from S Africa and 239 from the UK, with 15383 males compared to 4339 females. 



By 4am, I've decided that I may as well get on with it and so get up, apply the P20 and Vaseline, then pull on the Nedbank Green Dream Team knickers and vest. Me? Knickers? Exactly.......so I quickly follow up with capris and a jacket!



Eating my porridge, bananas and honey at 4:20am, it was already feeling warm. Even though the previous day (June 1st) had officially signalled the start of winter, there had been many warnings about the predicted unseasonably high temperatures. I had tried to put that to the back of my mind and tune out to the comments about how tough I might find it having come from Scotland, where we'd just recently had hail and frost, but it was reassuring to know that the organisers had arranged for the 49 refreshment stations en route to provide 1,900,000 sachets of water and 935,000 sachets of Energade.



Wow - my name instead of a number!



We left the house at 4:40 to head down towards the start......and I panic-grabbed another couple of slice of toast, thinking it would be a long time until I had my next proper meal.

Arriving in downtown Durban, it was obvious that something big was about to happen. Despite the darkness of the hour, the streets were buzzing......with locals out for the atmosphere, cheery supporters and thousands of runners (nervous novices, relaxed regulars and everyone in between).

I stripped off, got a last encouraging hug from Dave Pearse (who would be seconding me en route) and headed into the City Hall. Sitting down with my drinks bottle, I was again amazed to see so many people running round and round the inside of the building. Did they not realise that they had another 87k to run so there was no point tiring themselves out before the start?

Walking down to the Elite start, and chatting to Holly Rush, I was reminded of my first Comrades.......as you never re-experience that feeling of heading off into the unknown. She was planning to run to her heart rate, while Gloria Vinstadt (a Swedish Comrades novice, though seasoned 100k runner) had decided that she would run to a 6hrs 30 finish pace. I had discussed some ballpark times that Dave might expect to see me on the route, but I was planning to run on feel. I knew that I was the slowest marathoner there, so I steeled myself for the fact that everyone else might disappear away from me at the start, hopefully to come back later on. As they barriers between the starting pens were dropped, everybody pushed forward. I don't like the pushing and shoving (or finding someone squatting down to have a pee on my foot) but I love the emotion you feel, surrounded by S African runners, as they play Shosholoza and Chariots of Fire.



The cockerel crowed and we were off.......or rather, everyone else was.......as the guy behind me grabbed my left arm and pulled me backwards to lever himself forwards. As I'd expected, everyone seemed to shoot off, but my plan was always to run my own race and start steadily, then see what happened later on in the day.

After about 100m, my friend Dan Robinson came up alongside me on my right, which was great, as if you run the "speed of chat", it helps prevent you going off too fast. Something didn't feel right, however, as within the first kilometre, I cool feel myself getting really warm with sweat beading already. In last year's "down" run, it didn't get warm until daybreak dawned and I wore gloves for the first 10k at least. 2011 had also been an "up" year, but I remember starting off feeling nice and cool. The fact that it was already so hot and humid at 5:30 am didn't auger well for the rest of the day.

As we joined the main highway out of Durban, Jacques Mouton appeared on my left. It was lovely to see him again, as I ran a good portion of last year's race with him, though he said that he faded significantly later on. Unfortunately our run together this year was even shorter, but we still managed a quick chat.



The support around the 10k mark (sorry the 77k to go mark, as the course signs are a countdown) was massive but I just about spotted Dave (who'd picked up Ruth to help support, then watched the start on tv at home, starting a stopwatch when the race went off so they knew exactly when to look out for me and where) and gave him a wave and a thumbs up as I was feeling great and in control of my running. One of the great things about having Dave second you is that (along with local knowledge both of having run many Comrades himself and of how to get to certain points on the course) is that he's rather tall, so you can spot him in a crowd.

I knew I would see Dave and Ruth about every 10k, at least initially, and they had an idea of what I might be needing at each point, as there is a strict "stand and hand" rule for seconders during the run. I knew I had to get across to the right hand side of the road before we turned to go up Fields Hill (the second named hill of the day - see diagram) but there were far too many men between me and the edge for me to get through. I had to do a big sprint to find a gap for myself, causing Dan to ask if I was planning a fartlek all the way to Maritzberg. Even having got to the edge it was difficult to stay by the kerb, but luckily I managed it so that I could grab both my sunglasses and a gel from the big guy. Two years ago I declined my sunglasses, not being used to wearing any whilst running, but found I could hardly see as you run directly towards the rising sun. Forewarned is forearmed and so I was glad of them this year. 



The day in profile.......



I had passed my first lady just before the start of the hill, but she came storming past me like a train halfway up. I enjoy the climbs on the course as they are one of my strengths, and so overtook many others (including another lady) in that 2km long climb. It was then lovely to pass through some leafy villages with great support and welcome shade, whilst the wolf whistles from the boys of Kearsney college helped put a smile on my face. More places gained on Botha's Hill, and it was a great confidence boost to hear the times that people were hoping to run as you passed them. Relaxing down the other side meant I again picked off several runners, including the lady who'd passed me on Fields. I learnt to ignore the comments from supporters along the route as, although they mean well, it is about the only race where you can hear that you're the 7th lady, pass 3 ladies, and then be confidently told that you're lying 8th!

I lost Dan after about 30k, but presumed that he was away ahead of me, and so didn't look back, just carried on at my comfortable pace. There is a big descent down into Drummond, which is the halfway cutoff point, and I knew that I was going to see my seconders near the top of the climb beforehand. I much prefer solid food to gels, and so had given them some homemade flapjack in a bag that they could hand me, hoping to use the downhill to be able to eat properly. Unfortunately, I hadn't considered differing versions of the English language. As I shouted "flapjack" at Ruth, she just looked back at me with a confused expression on her face. What they call a "flapjack" in S Africa, is what we call a "pancake" in the the Uk, and I should have asked for a "Jungle Oats Crunchy Bar"! When Dave explained, Ruth put on a great turn of speed to go past me on the hill and get ahead so that she could "stand and hand" me my longed for treat (along with a gel).

On the way down into Drummond, I caught up with a large group of runners and was surprised to see Marina Zhalybina in the middle of it. I had never been ahead of Marina in my life - she finished 3rd to my 4th at Comrades in 2012 and finished 1st to my 2nd at the World 100k Champs in 2011. Marina also owned no less than 11 Comrades gold medals, and so passing her did freak me out slightly. I was worried that I'd gone too fast and would pay for it later, and spent the rest of the day expecting her to come flying by. I had hoped to be working my way into the bottom of the top 10 by the halfway point, not be in the middle of it.

However, the timing mat at Drummond had a definite party atmosphere about it and so I enjoyed it. The song "Call me, maybe" was blasting out and so I ran through with a smile on my face, performing the actions to the song........though I made sure I wasn't doing this near the cameras, knowing that my father would be watching the race online at home, and not wanting him to think that I was suggesting that random people should ring me! I had 3:17 on my watch and although the true halfway is several minutes further on, I headed up Inchanga feeling strong, with plenty of running in my legs (and plenty of salted potatoes in my hands).

I had learnt the year before that when people shout what sounds like "go ladies!", it doesn't actually mean that there is another woman running on your shoulder, but when you pass and hear "yeay....a lady" only to then hear "and another one"......"and another one" a few seconds apart, you know the field is tightly packed. Listening out for these calls was a way of passing time on the long open stretch of road that is known as "Harrison Flats". By this point I had been running entirely on my own for some way, which unfortunately meant that I had to battle the increasingly strong hot headwind on my own.

As I neared Cato Ridge, I thought that Marina was making her move, but it was actually Irina (another Russian lady) who passed me as if she was running a 10k race. She looked amazingly strong......maybe it was the thought of a birthday cake at the finish, as not many people would choose to run 87 hard kilometres as a birthday treat! There was no way that I could have gone with her, but as I'd said before, I could only run my own race......and whether others had a better run was out of my control.

I had run most of the way with a distinctive purple vest of 'Turn to God AC' visible some way in front of me but I finally caught up with Stuart (the owner of said vest), which gave me a bit of company through the next stretch. Most of the comments were about the strong wind, as it even blew down barriers and signs along the sides of the road. Unfortunately, it did not blow away the smell of the chicken farms, so how the people managed to stay at the refreshment station there all day is beyond me.

I remembered struggling through this section 2 years ago and thinking how nice it would be to just stop and walk, but this year I felt stronger and suddenly I was passing the highest point at Umlaas Road, with the realisation that I had less than a half marathon left to run. Another runner (Michael Ndlovu) had come back to us by now. This was great because, as a seasoned runner of Comrades (wearing a green number) he anticipated our needs and would signal people at the refreshment stations ("tables") to get them to stand on either side of the road so that we could grab the "baggies" with each hand. It became my personal challenge at each table to have grabbed some bags of water from the first person, have opened them and poured them over my head and into my mouth, by the time I reached the last person, from whom I got another water and an Energade.

Strangely enough, I was looking forward to the infamous Polly Shortts as I knew it would be a chance to push on as you gain 100m over 1.8km, so in my head, my kilometre countdown was to the 10k to go point. This made the race end seem closer to me and I felt good watching the numbers tick down.

About 15k from the finish, I saw Dave and Ruth for the final time. While handing over a drink and gel, Dave told me that I was 8 minutes down on the 4th placed lady but that she seemed to be fading. My response of "I'm fading too!" caused Stuart to smile, but I wondered how much of that deficit I would make up, or if she would rally in the run for home.

I felt like I was running alone up Little Pollys and Polly Shortts, but  Stuart later told me that both he and Michael had tucked in behind me, to use me as shelter from the wind. In my previous 2 Comrades I had never walked a single step and so I was determined that this year should be no exception, which again enabled me to move up the field on these testing inclines.

At the top of Pollys, I felt great and so decided to pick up the pace and really work all the way to the finish. It was "just 8k" after all. Michael came with me, and though Stuart later said that he had thought he would be able to stick with me to the finish, I opened up a gap of 400m within the first km, and 4.5 minutes by the end.

It isn't the easiest 8k, as the support lessens after the crowds of Pollys because most people have gone closer to the finish so the are some quiet isolated open stretches, and the course definitely "undulates". At this point in the race, any slight change in gradient can feel like a huge hill, and twice the road does actually disappear down into a huge deep, so you have to really control your tired quads down to work up the other side.

We thought we were almost there, as the run in had seemed long, and the crowds were building up again, and so both of us had the same uncharitable thought (Michael expressing it out loud) when we saw the 2km to go marker. Even so close to the end, we were still grabbing as many baggies as possible both to drink and pour over ourselves, as the temperature was well into the 30s by now.



My super-seconders!



Finally we turned off the main road and had our last long descent, punctuated as it was with multiple speed bumps to trip up weary legs. The "Toyota mile" starts as you turn left into a 150m long avenue of palm trees through the mayor's garden. It seems very dark after the bright sunlight, but I could just about see a figure right at the far end as we entered. Michael confirmed my suspicions that it was Charne Bosman, the 4th lady (and multiple S African marathon champion).

I had the bit between my teeth now and powered down that avenue. At the bottom of it, the top 10 finishers of either sex are handed a red rose to carry round the final lap of the oval. This lap is meant to be for runners to "savour their heroic achievement". This was not my plan......I dug as deep as I could and carried on sprinting round that lap, overhauling Charne with 50m to go and crossed the line with a look of pure delight on my face.



I had finished in 4th place in the ladies' field, behind 3 extremely talented and experienced Russian athletes and, more importantly to me, in the top 100 of the field overall. Michael and I were both given the same time of 6 hours 53 minutes and 29 seconds, and you couldn't wipe the grin off my face as I caught with my awesome seconding team and other friends and runners in the international enclosure afterwards!

Having a laugh with my clubmate Craig (while someone is stretchered out of the International Enclosure behind us....oops!!)



The 2013 Comrades Marathon (the "Ultimate Human Race") has since been described as one of the toughest in its 88 year history, not only because of the searing heat but also because of the very strong headwinds. Indeed, 4,148 starters failed to finish within the 12 hour time limit, with about another 7000 finishing in the last 90 minutes, and 800 needing medical treatment.

The 10 female gold medallists

I, however, will remember it as the day I fought right to the line and did not give up. It would have been "easy" to have settled for 5th place but I wasn't prepared to do that, though admittedly what I thought was a sprint of Olympic worth was probably only a very slightly speeded up shuffle!!!

The British gold medallists!













Pre-race Preparation......

Everybody prepares for a race in their own individual way, but generally this is just a variation on a theme to make sure you arrive on the startline feeling fresh, rested, prepared and ready to run as well as you can.



A track-trot in race kit!

Relative to many comparable runners, I am not an especially high mileage person, so "tapering" can seem a little odd. I run because I love it, not because I "have to", and so the last week or so has been strange. Spring has finally arrived on Scotland, and so the early blossom is out, as are the bluebells, daffodils and wild garlic, and everything looks fresh and green. This is one of the best times of year for just taking yourself off to the trails and country roads and simply running, while surrounding yourself with nature. It has been hard to resist, especially in the glorious sunshine, but I'm hoping it lasts for another few weeks and that we haven't had our summer in the same week as our spring!

I have done a few things to keep ticking over and prepare myself as well as I can........which included going for a run in my race day kit. There's nothing more likely to cure you of the embarrassment of wearing running knickers than wearing them on a track shared with runners 30 years younger than yourself! Still, it's important to make sure you identify any potential chafing spots ahead of race day.



Running in the sun





With clubmates/colleagues

I also had a good fast run with many of my clubmates on a beautiful warm sunny day........so hopefully the sun and the warmth in South Africa won't be a total shock to the system (though we did also have hail and frost last week).

I have learnt a bit more about EFT (Emotional Freedom Training)and trying to rid yourself of negative thoughts and vibes, many of which have been ingrained in your psyche since childhood.

A minor stressor was being asked (2 days before flying) for a "clearance letter from my Federation" which sounded rather like something out of Star Trek. Luckily, English bank holiday notwithstanding, UK Athletics were able to come up with the goods in time for me.

Another good thing to fill my time with was a trip to see a friend, ostensibly for a cheeky legrub before flying.....but as usual, it ended up as a gossip catch-up, which wasn't a bad thing as it made me forget the upcoming trip. I visited the beautician to sort my "race face".......as you cannot have your mascara running when you sweat, now can you ladies?.....actually, I just treated myself to a nice relaxing head massage.

Finally, all I have left to do is get through another full day at work before driving up to the airport. A friend did offer to drive me there, but I felt it was important to have the time to myself to switch off, sing loudly (and badly) along with the radio, and just be alone as it does get a bit busy once you start travelling; meeting up with people, going to the expo to register, attending the press conference and generally catching up with friends from all over the world. 

As a footnote.....bearing in mind my love for food and drink, I'm looking forward to ice cream with Dan in Dubai and then wine with Dave in Durban. 

Oh yes, and then there's a day of running in the sun........

Nutrition

Ahhhh.......eating and drinking......2 of my very favourite things!!

And 2 activities that I think a lot of runners obsess over and have many hang-ups about.


A cup of molten chocolate....bliss!

Everybody is different, both in their basal metabolic rate, and in the food they like to eat, but I am a firm believer in that the body will tell you what it needs and you shouldn't deprive it.
Ok, so I'm not a super-light, super-streamlined, super-speedy track runner.......but I have sufficent stores to sustain my running over the distances that I enjoy. Using Comrades as an example - when you arrive in South Africa people look at you and make judgements based on your physique; I was told that I should be able to run it OK as I "wasn't as skinny as some girls". It is noticeable that in distance races such as Comrades or 100Ks (and I base this on observations both as a runner and as the medical support) that those runners who do not fuel adequately as they go along, soon find themselves fading even if they started out really strongly. If you get your nutrition and hydration right, you often find yourself finishing well ahead of runners that on paper should be well up the road.

You gotta love a free post-race buffet



I was lucky enough to listen to a talk by a dietician at one of the Scottish Hill Squad away days. Interestingly, she told all of the hill runners that they needed to eat more every single day. She guessed that this might concern some of them, but reassured them that as they were training regularly, the vital extra calories would actually help build muscle and strength rather than being laid down as fat. A few of my other running friends have also found that when they increase their intake, they perform better and some actually lost some weight, counterintuitive though that may seem. I know that after a long run (and sometimes for the next couple of days) I feel as if I can never satisfy my appetite, and so eat constantly, yet I don't seem to get any heavier.



2 breakfasts pre-race is better than one!



When in Lanzarote, I certainly took advantage of the "all you can eat" buffets at breakfast and dinner, yet did some of my best training there, so it cannot have done any harm, and probably did me some good!



Seafood and Sangria!!



Interestingly, if I think back to 2 specific races when I felt I didn't perform very well, both involved problems with my nutrition beforehand.... whether it was a long time spent travelling, missing out on regular mealtimes, or whether it was the fact that certain race organisers forgot to provide any carbs in the vegetarian meals the day before the race!

Basically, I've learnt to listen to my body, and not worry about what people think of the amount that I eat as it has always served me well. In fact, when away at my last two international races, the only people that eat more were the super-speedy Kenyans, so if it works for them......

Do As I Say, Not As I Do......

.......and I say that 3 races in a week is too many!!



Each race did have a purpose though, which is why I did them all. The first was my club hill race championships  - which was great for the sociable nature of the post run chat both out at the hill and back at the club over pizza in the bar. The second was the Scottish National 5K championships, which was a distance completely out of my comfort zone for racing, and so was a totally new challenge for me. The final race was the Lillaebelt Half Marathon in Denmark, which I was running in a Scottish vest as part of an invited team.



With my clubmate Jim after the 5K



The 5K championships were midweek in Edinburgh, so I had to rejig work slightly  (ie I started surgery at 7am) in order to be able to make the race. The plan was to drive up via Glasgow to pick up my friend, but unfortunately she had a last minute hold up at work and couldn't make the race....so I ended up giving 3 others a lift across.

I have to admit that I did not enjoy any part of that 5K......it was certainly an experience to be running on the limit of my lactate threshold for the whole of a race.....and it would definitely be better run with fresh legs. There was quite a lot of drama within the race itself, and I don't just mean people dropping out. The course narrowed significantly within the first Km, up to the turn....and I found myself almost stopping dead at the pinch points as I was held up by several men who sprinted off at top speed and then slowed significantly after about 400m (though it probably gave me a vital chance to catch my breath). Although the race was significantly shorter than anything I usually run, it felt like I was never going to make it to the finish line. I was quite disappointed with my run......both my time and position....but on reviewing the results, I consoled myself that although I'm no speedster, I had held my own and been faster than the marathoners.

The star of the show for me (apart from Elspeth who won the ladies' race in a faster time than her track 5000m PB) was definitely Fiona Matheson (again). Fiona was even more caught up in the early race congestion, to the extent that she tripped up and fell over. Luckily nobody crashed into or kicked her and she managed to get up and continue running. Afterwards, she said that she was so glad that she didn't look down and see her bleeding arm or leg or she might not have carried on, but instead she just pelted on round the course to work her way back up to an amazing 3rd place in 17:02.......who knows how quickly she might have run without that upset??!! To completely round off my day, I had a nightmare trip home - after dropping the guys back home in Glasgow, I was on the wrong end of  a random decision to close the motorway for night roadworks, and so I ended up detouring round the countryside, and got home about midnight!

This is the second year that Scottish Athletics have sent a team of runners over to Denmark to take part in the Lillaebelt Half Marathon, though English Athletics have been sending runners for several years. Fiona wasn't sure how she'd feel after the "excitement" of Wednesday night, but as I headed for Glasgow airport after work on Friday, she texted me to say that she was "good to go" - great news! We met up with Scott McDonald at the gate before boarding, and then with our other teammate Andy Douglas down in Stansted, as we had to change from Easyjet to Ryanair.



Fi showing off the double bed!



We were picked up at Billund and driven to Middelfart, eventually arriving well after midnight. Fiona and I heard squeals of dismay from the lads as they entered their room and found that there was only a double bed there, but then Fi was equally disappointed to find no kettle in our room for a nighttime cuppa.



Novel spelling!



We had to wake the lads up for breakfast the next morning, but then headed down to pick up our race numbers (and the t-shirts I managed to procure). Unfortunately (just for a change) my name had been spelt incorrectly on my bib, and they only had 4 bibs printed with Scottish flags on them, so it was either have the correct spelling on a plain bib, the missing letter added in with a felt tip, or just wrong with the wrong name. I went for the latter option - it wasn't as if it was the first time, and it certainly won't be the last!!!



After some "relaxation" time, we headed back down to the start around 1pm. A quick warm-up later (warm being the operative word, as it was 18 degrees and the wind had really picked up) and we headed  to the front of the 11,000-strong field. I vaguely understood the Danish countdown and we were off, round the twisty streets through town.

Team Scotland

In the second mile I found myself being pushed wider and wider across the road by Kim, one of the English runners (who I'd actually raced at Lochaber) and when I looked down at my garmin, we were running a faster pace than when I'd run my half marathon PB earlier in the year. I decided to be sensible and back off the pace, but unfortunately it meant that I then ran the whole of the rest of the race running entirely on my own (though that does seem to be the norm for me in races these days). For the next 6 miles, I could see Fi and Kim working together (taking turns to lead, though apparently never exchanging a word) into the wind about 300m ahead of me, but I couldn't drive myself to catch up to them. I didn't really notice a tail wind when we had first run across the long road bridge, but there was certainly a strong headwind as we returned.



The route

Not only had we just climbed up a slope from shore level but as I rounded the corner onto the bridge, I felt like I'd just run into a wall. There was no-one around to shelter behind so I just had to get my head down and push on into what felt like a gale. My stomach had been playing up with some dodgy cramps for the past few miles, but it was such a relief to see portaloos as soon as I turned away from the bridge, though I found it almost impossible to get back into my stride later. The last few miles felt like a nightmare long run rather than a race, but I was so glad to head into the final straight. I'm told that I looked strong coming into the finish, but that was probably just the relief at knowing the gut torture would soon finish. I had taken so long to run the race that the prize giving was already in full-swing, but it was quite inspiring to be running down the finishing straight hearing them announce Scott's 3rd place (in only his 2nd half marathon)!!



Making friends with the hotel frog



5am at the airport

Putting the run to one side (as I don't like to dwell on a poor performance - and we all have them - as soon as the sun has gone down on it), the rest of the day was really fun.......blagging 4 race jackets, enjoying some good chat on a cool down jog, a nice meal, and fun team banter in the bar afterwards. The race director came and joined us for a drink, so we all thanked him for inviting us over.....and he promised to look into the final results (some ladies' numbers had been sold on to male runners, so affecting female positions) as well as explaining his plans for next year's race, which seemed to involve having a beach (with beach volleyball games going on) at the side of the route!

Looking back, it was a great weekend - spent with good company, making new friends, eating Danish pastries and getting race experience in another country!

Fun in the Hills

Marathon completed….what now?

Time for fun – so for me that involves relaxing, eating, drinking, catching up with friends, and on this occasion….playing in the hills!

The first weekend after Lochaber, I headed down to Wales to catch up with my friend John, who was over from Ireland getting some climbing in. He was preparing for assessments which (in part) involves teaching novice rock climbers and getting them up some rock faces.  It has been years since I donned my harness and shoes, and so I was the perfect guinea pig.

Cwm Idwal

 Saturday in Capel Curig was beautiful and sunny so we headed off to the Idwal Slabs (Cwm Idwal) in the Ogden valley. A brisk walk in to the base of the slab took us away from the sun and next to some snow, but we could see a couple of other pairs of climbers already on the face. I debated whether I would actually be able to squeeze my feet into my climbing shoes (they were tight in Australia when I wore them with no socks, and the cold was definitely making thick socks a requisite), so John suggested I start in my inov8s and carry my shoes up with me to change into between pitches if necessary.

John sorting out the gear

It seemed easy to start off with, though I wasn’t very confident without my climbing shoes on, but John encouraged me to trust my feet and push up even when I was using tiny little ledges with half a toe on them. I dredged up a memory of being told that it was all about the legs pushing up and not using your arms to pull, and got back into the flow of it. Between pitches, I found it interesting to hear how people would be taught to set up belays and started to find myself looking for good positions if I had to do that.

Idwal Slabs

As we moved further up the rock, the sun seemed to tease us mercilessly……we would be about to move into a sunny patch, but then the route would veer away again, so my hands did get rather cold. Still, I really enjoyed it and it was fun to be out doing a different type of sport. Several pitches later we were at the top of the climb and then had some short-rope scrambling to do to the top, and again down the neighbouring gully to descend.

Finally we found a patch of sun, and I was allowed to sit down and eat. Almost a personal record for the length of time without food, but I hadn’t even noticed as I was too busy concentrating on both the climb and the amazing views. Full marks to my “instructor” as I never once doubted my safety or that I would make it up OK.

This weekend involved hills in a different way, as it was our club “hill race championship”. We have usually incorporated this into a proper hill race, but this year it was decided to use a local hill for the competition. This is less of an actual hill race, as it is short, and much of it is on forest roads, but means that more people come and have a go, rather than it just being the hillrunners.



Drawing the lads out!



Lotus Hill is only a few miles from Dumfries, and reaches a height of 321m. I have run a club race on it before and so knew the course was only about 3.5miles long, with 2 miles of that being on forestry roads, so I thought I’d go and join in, without having to worry too much about causing myself an injury and affecting upcoming events.

It was a drizzly dreary day and rather chilly, and so full body cover was tempting. However I knew that the offroad section would be ankle deep bog, meaning we’d end up filthy so I opted for shorts in the end….brrrr!

Over the summit..

The lads seemed to be running along together quite comfortably with no-one wanting to push the pace on (saving themselves to battle it out on the hill) so I had to run round them to get up a good pace on the opening forest road. This pushed a couple of them on and the group then stretched out, with a few moving ahead. Unfortunately the course was wrongly marked and marshalled so we had an extra mile to run – some on a step uphill part of the forestry road, and some through grass and bog as we descended back to the original course. Having thought it would just be a short run with only one section where I’d take it easy to avoid ankle twists, I had a bit of a sense of humour failure about the detour and so decided to power walk some of the hill.



Seriously? White off-road shoes??



Giving myself a stern lecture I started to run again and caught the man in front by the summit, which was in open moorland. That was my goal achieved, as I knew everyone would power past on the downhill – men seem much better about disengaging brains and going for it on downhill technical sections, whereas women worry about damaging themselves. Back to a forest trail, and I knew it was only a mile to the finish with the worst of the mud over and done with. I could hear my clubmate breathing heavily right behind me, and so I decided that if he was going to get past me in that final mile then I’d make him work for it. I managed to keep away from him and was actually glad of the challenge to push me all the way back.



Great to catch up with everyone afterwards over flapjack and water in the carpark, and then pizza and drinks back at the club!

What a lovely couple of weekends!

Ladies' Day in Lochaber

Our "Lodge" - what a front door!!!

My friend Mark and I had discussed going up north for a weekend, so he could go biking and I could go running, and last weekend was the only one that seemed to suit both of us. A colleague of Mark's offered the use of a lodge at one the Devere Hotels (Cameron House on Loch Lomond) and it seemed too good an opportunity to resist.

Judging by the Tom Scott race, I had recovered well from Barcelona, and so it seemed like a good idea to profit from all the training and run another marathon. This had been an idea developing over the past few weeks, but it had depended on finding a good marathon at the right time, and upon how long it took the spring to return to my legs. I had never run a marathon in Scotland before and Mark was happy to do his cycling up in Fort William, so the Lochaber marathon appeared to fit the bill. The only problem was that I had to be good and not make use of the sauna and steam room facilities at Cameron House on the Saturday........imagine starting a marathon dehydrated from spending too much time in the sauna!

Having entered the marathon at the last minute (number 495 out of 500), meant there was no external pressure on me for a "performance", and it helped to be staying somewhere nice and just travel up on the day. There was a speedy lady (Kim Fawke, a 2:39 marathoner) from Telford who had entered early (number 15) and was being accommodated by the race organisation, as she was hoping t break the 15 year old course record.....so that was another pressure I didn't have on me.....I could just go and run my own race.

The forecast was for pouring rain and gale-force winds......and so I started obsessively checking for updates, as if that would change anything. Whatever the day actually brought, I hoped to get a good strong run in the bank.

2nd Breakfast out of the rain

A soggy warmup

As we drove up on Sunday morning, we couldn't actually see any of the beautiful scenery as the rain was driving across Rannoch Moor, but it did seem lighter as we got to Fort William. After registering, I had a second breakfast of instant porridge and coffee in the car (my word, thermos flasks are a great invention), and then braved the elements for a soggy warmup. There were drinks provided on the course but no gels, so I arranged to meet Mark at certain places in order to grab some......and he kindly took my waterproofs from me as I headed to the start.

The race started on the shinty pitch and then we headed off through a housing estate out to the main road. I found myself passing Kim in the first mile, which surprised me, as I had been telling myself not to go off with her as it would be faster than I intended to run. I exchanged a few words with the guys running alongside me - one from Shettleston (John Duffy, who had actually won the race on two occasions) and one from Hunters Bog Trotters (HBT). We seemed to be going up and down a couple of sharp inclines and round some twisty corners......but I was sure that I'd read it was a fast flat course. They reassured me that the first and last mile were the worst (great......something to look forward to at the end when you're knackered) and that there was a drag uphill at miles 3 and 4.

In a sunny spell

After a few miles we were all spread out, with the leading 3 men visible quite a way ahead along the undulating road, and John having dropped back from us. I got slightly confused as there was no 6 mile marker, and a water station appeared earlier than the advertised 7 mile point. Mark, however, was standing in his high-viz yellow waterproof jacket (the jacket actually meant that many people asked him if he was a medic en route) at exactly our agreed 7 mile point and handed me a gel......mmmmm, tasty......not!

The weather had been improving as we'd been running, and not long after this, the sun actually came out and it became quite warm. This was amazing considering the horrendous forecast, but in true Scottish style, we were then treated to a mixture of rainy, windy and sunny spells as we continued on our way.

There was plentiful support on the roadside as we headed towards the turn around point and it was great to see the leaders heading back towards us, so we exchanged waves and "thumbs up" signs. I rounded the marshal in 5th place overall, but then watched the distinctive brown HBT vest shoot away from me at an amazing speed. It was also interesting to see that Kim was 40s behind me, with no one in between us, so I figured she'd overhaul me at any time.

Although I was now running alone and felt the wind more strongly on the return leg, I loved the encouragement from all the runners heading the other way. I felt that I was tiring but couldn't hear any cheers behind me so figured that everyone must be feeling the same.

Out on the road

If you wanted to think about something apart from where the next mile marker was, you just had to look up and be inspired by the beauty of the surrounding snow-covered peaks.......or you could focus on the road and be entertained by the traffic. The road isn't closed for the race, and although runners are told to keep to the side of the road and run no more than 2 abreast, there were times when cars and lorries were on completely the wrong side of the road. At one point a lorry kindly waited for a good time to pass runners when a car decided to pass it on the wrong side of the road and a cyclist also tried to cut through the gap. It was tempting to tag alongside the lorry and use it as a windbreak, but it just wasn't possible.

I heard that the gap behind me had narrowed to 100m but I gave myself a good talking to, reminding myself just how stubborn I can be. I figured that I had to keep driving on, so that if anyone passed me then it was because they were running well, not because of me flagging. By this point I had moved up into 4th position and was over halfway back. 

I was spurred on by seeing that the gap to the man in front (from Kilmarnock) was closing up, but felt guilty when I saw how much he was struggling, possibly due to his fast start. I passed him at the 21 mile marker though I did ask him if he was ok (and to give him credit, he carried on to finish under the 3 hr mark). I was very relieved to crest the hill at 23 miles as I knew that apart from the sting in the tail of the race, it was mainly downhill. Grabbing a last gel from Mark, he reassured me that the gap behind had opened up and I just needed to keep going for the win. I tried to calculate how much faster than me someone would need to run every remaining mile in order to go past, but I knew that it wasn't over until that line was crossed. In the next 2 miles the man in front (this time from Ayr - SW Scotland seemed to be dominating the sharp end of the race) also came back significantly, so that he was only about 20m ahead when he missed a right turn. I screamed his name and the marshals chased him to get him back on course. As we were within the final windy mile, which included those sharp inclines, I fully expected him to charge back past any minute.



Finishing on the shinty pitch

Not sure about my "finishing face"...

It was an amazing feeling to make the final turn out of the houses and towards the finish gantry on the soggy wet shinty pitch.

Everyone was very surprised to see me as the second finisher overall and they desperately tried to create a finish tape for me to break.
Unfortunately the only bit of tape they had was only about 50cm wide, but at least it made me smile!

Prizegiving

It was only after finishing that I heard the announcement that I'd broken the 15year old course record by 4 and a half minutes. And what a day for the ladies, as the second lady finished in 4th place overall, in a time that was also under the previous record! Girlpower!