Pike's Peak

After my late Glasgow call-up, I felt that I had to be honest with both the selectors and my Scotland team-mates (Claire and Shona) and let them know that I would not be on top form for the World Long Distance Mountain Running Champs as it was less than 3 weeks after the marathon. They were all still keen that I join them to make up the team, so after 10 days back at work, I headed over to the States.

The race being used for the 2014 WLDMRC was the Pike's Peak Ascent, a very famous race in Colorado. The total race distance is 13.32 miles, which doesn't sound very far, but the challenge comes when you realise the altitude and climb involved. The race starts in Manitou Springs at 6,300 feet (1920m) above sea level, and ascends 7,815 feet (2,382m) to the summit at 14,115 feet (4,302m).

I could not take any more time off work in order to go across early and acclimatise, and I also thought that I would recover from the marathon better at sea level. Luckily, I managed to arrange flights that meant I had a couple of nights in Colorado pre-race. Richard, an old friend of mine (and previous Boulder resident) kindly offered to pick me up at the airport (in a convertible!!!) and spent some time acting as my tour guide, so I got to Colorado Springs (to meet Claire and Shona) via the Rocky Mountain National Park, and hence got some in-car altitude acclimatisation!



Driving up to the summit

The official race accommodation for the International runners was at a semi-religious retreat, situated slightly out of Colorado Springs itself, and so was rather isolated. Luckily, Richard offered to drive me up to the top of Pike's Peak (so that I could see/be freaked out by what was in store for race day) before dropping us all at race registration and a pasta buffet. An early shuttle back to the accommodation meant we were all tucked up on our bunk beds early (munching on carrot cake) thinking about the day ahead (and listening to the cheers of the Italian squad pep talk through the walls)!

Alarm clocks were unnecessary as the Italian coaches were laughing loudly by 4:15 am, but at least it meant that I could find out about the European Champs marathon before focusing on our race. We were up, dressed, and on the shuttle buses by 5:30am.....and so at the start line with more than an hour to go. People were milling around, doing warmups and stretches, checking their bags etc, but Claire and I escaped to go for a coffee and sit down in the Town Hall (which had the bonus of flushing toilets rather than portaloos).

I felt rather self-conscious as the girls had persuaded me that a crop-top was de rigeur for the heat, rather than a vest, but having your surname and flag on your back bib and first name on the front, took away from any worries that people might notice a potbelly! As we lined up behind the gantry, I saw some "famous" runners that I had only ever read about before and other similar big-shots that I had met the previous day at registration. There was little time to worry about what a high quality field I was mixing with, as after wishing Claire and Shona the best of luck, I worked my way right over to the side to avoid any potential tramples.

The first mile and a half are run on tarmac up past the cog railway that goes to the summit, and so many people race off to try to get ahead of the "traffic" before the narrow trail starts. I had been warned about this, as some people sprint off and then blow up, causing a traffic jam behind them, but obviously not everyone had read the same manual, as I did find myself in a chain when we turned onto the Barr Trail, which we would then follow all the way to the summit. The trail was rough and very narrow so there was little chance to pass, hence we all had to run at the speed of those at the front. Runners who were familiar with the course could time a burst of speed for any slight widening of the trail and avoid being trapped for too long, but for most people,this was not possible.

Numbers front & back

As all the runners had their first name written on the bib on their chest, people cheered them on individually (only those in the international race had back bibs), but it took me most of the race to realise that the "Jessica" everyone was encouraging wasn't another lady constantly on my tail, but was how they were reading "Joasia"!!

Although we hadn't actually gone that far, I was already hungry (no surprise there) and so was overjoyed to hear the sounds of an aid station ahead. All the pre-race info had suggested that faster runners should pass on the left, and so I was surprised to be cut off from the food table (on my right) by an "overtaker". Pausing at the table, I was rather surprised to see what was on offer - surely not many people would want mini pretzels in that dry climate, and as for taking some grapes and having to avoid inhaling the pips...... I made do with a handful of jellybeans wash and some lucozade. The trail had widened out making it possible to pass a few people, so I ran on while trying to chew the jellybeans. I wasn't sure exactly what flavours I'd picked up, and so it reminded me of "JellyBelly Roulette" first played at the OMM when in a dark tent (I'm allergic to coconut so try to avoid those ones, and the chocolate ones aren't the best while running).

It was at this point that the Glasgow marathon seemed to catch up with me. I wasn't struggling to breathe or suffering with the altitude, but just seemed to have nothing in my legs. I felt like I was having to force them to turn over with no power output at all. Still, I was there to represent Scotland, and so whatever happened, I wasn't going to give up, even if I had to walk the remaining 8 miles to the summit!

Luckily, I'd just come on to the most enjoyable part of the course, as the gradient lessened (and there were even a couple of slightly downhill stretches) and so I just relaxed and enjoyed looking around and running through the trees. The sun was peeking through the leaves making the trail all mottled, and as the field had spread out on the wider section, it was really peaceful.

Approaching the treeline

There was a huge amount of noise and support as we passed through the Barr Camp checkpoint/aid station, and it was great to know that just over half of the course had been covered. I heard another runner commenting that we had taken 93 minutes so far, so I knew that it was definitely going to be the slowest "half marathon" of my life!

Unfortunately, the next few miles went back to being a bottleneck as the trail was rather narrow and rocky winding its way up to the treeline. Unlike the previous "train" of runners, this was more of a walking train, "driven" by a girl in spotty shorts. None of us could actually get past her, so we all ended up doing a fast walk behind. You could occasionally run a few steps, but then had to go back to a walk, either clambering over rocks, or just because the group had bunched up again. Not only was there no space to pass, but it would involve quite a burst of speed to avoid affecting others' progress as well. We seemed to follow those shorts for ages - and I think I can still see them if I close my eyes!



Above the treeline



On leaving the treeline there were "just" 3 miles to go. The trail became loose gravel and, outwith the confines of the trees, it was now possible to move at a better speed as there was room to negotiate round others. I chatted briefly to a man going a similar pace to me, as he'd spotted my bib and was asking about where I was from ("sea level" I exclaimed!). 

Hands on quads ascending!

The final section involved using your arms a lot when going through patches of broken rock and rubble (now my strange arm ache the day after the race makes sense!), and seems to take forever. The sun reflecting off the rock was rather bright, and the atmosphere was definitely feeling much thinner. Encouraged by my new friend with his repeated "Come on Sea Level", racepace became a bit of a run-walk fartlek. I thought I was never going to get there, and this sensation was made worse by the fact that you could hear the finish for over a mile before you got there. 

The last part of the route is known as the 16 Golden Stairs - it consists of 32 hairpins (I forgot to count them) and many 12-15 inch step-ups (getting the arms to push down on the quads definitely helped). Although I was finding it tough, others were obviously finding it more so, as I was still passing men with every turn (though admittedly a local lady did "fly" past me looking fresh as a daisy).



I made it!



A marshal suggested it was a good time to "run from here" when I still had a couple of bends to negotiate (there were a few false alarms of the finish being just around the corner), and though I tried to finish strongly, I'm not sure that it appeared that way at all! How I managed to veer off course 20m from the finish is beyond me - I blame the confusing bollards amongst the rocks, along with the crowd noise!



Looking back at the summit





It was great to cross the line and see some familiar faces - Richard there with a Saltire, and my teammates Claire (who'd had a great run, finishing as first British lady) and Shona (not far in front of me)! What was even better, was the pizza and beer provided for all the runners when we got back down to Manitou Springs!



With Shona at the finish



I would say it wasn't the best performance for me (but not bad considering the recent marathon), but what an amazing event to be part of! I loved the atmosphere, the camaraderie, the scenery, the route......yes even the race.....and I am now in love with Colorado and definitely want to to go back there!

Village Life

It is only when you have finished competing that you can really relax and enjoy "Village Life" - luckily, the marathon was the first Athletics event and so afterwards, we could then let our hair down and really enjoy the rest of the Games experience.

Ross in Scotland Street



Initially, while down in Irvine, many of us were jealous of those already in the Village - but with hindsight, it seemed that Scottish Athletics made  a very good decision in keeping us away until 2 nights pre-competition, as it kept us more focussed on the reason we were there, ie to perform to the best of our abilities, and let us prepare without lots of other distractions (though obviously they made exception for those needing specialist treatment from the physios etc).

Team "Jo" post race!

One of the first things that I saw after finishing the marathon was my friend Ian holding my wee neice Cecilia up so that she could see over the fence into the athlete area. I got official permission to make my own way back to the Village later on and so went off to join them - it was great to see all my family right there and walk with them along some of the route to join other extended family and friends for lunch (though admittedly, all I had to eat and drink was chips and wine!).

Team Scotland hits Hampden

My appetite returned when I made it back out to Dalmarnock and so I joined Susan, Derek and Ross (Hayley had already headed away home though we missed her !) in the foodhall to finally enjoy eating as much of whatever food type we wanted (be it carbs, protein, fruit, veg or pure sugar) before we headed to Hampden for the opening events there. After screaming ourselves hoarse in support of teammates and friends, "Team Marathon" then headed into town to meet other friends and celebrate an amazing day that I'll never forget. It was funny to end the day, back in the foodhall, about 22 hours after it had started!!

I knew that I needed an MOT from the physios as I had to go to America to represent scotland in the World Long Distance Mountain Running in a few weeks' time, but it seemed sensible to wait for a few days so I could see whether any niggles surfaced, so I headed off on the train the next morning.



Playground Fun!



Superchefs with their cake - yummm!

My sister and her family were staying in Selkirk for a week's holiday and so my parents came and picked me up from the nearest station to go and join them. It was lovely to hang out with them for 24 hours, especially in an area with no telephone or internet reception, though I did have to turn the TV on to cheer on my roomie Libby in her 100m race! I'm not sure that some of the playground games were that easy after just having run a marathon, but it's hard to resist a challenge from Aleks and Cecilia! Especially when they'd also made me an amazing "Congratulations" cake!!

I probably slept more that night (in a sleeping bag on the floor) than I did any night in the Village, as there were always people coming and going there, walls were rather thin, and if anyone let a door slam somewhere in the building, then it could be heard everywhere, so I returned to Glasgow more energised the next day.

A solo aquajog

I got there in time to make it to meet Susan in the foodhall (the pizza servers got to know the two of us rather well) and then head back to Hampden. So followed a pattern for most of the week - involving eating (my record was 7 trips to the foodhall in one day! - though one day we were still there chatting after brekfast when we realised it was lunchtime), catching up with friends in town, going to watch every session of Athletics, and celebrating with more and more people as they finished competing. I did have to be slightly sensible due to the upcoming Colorado run, and so I saw the physio a couple of times, had a sports massage, and even went out to aquajog at one of the Games venues!



Some of the country flags



It was an amazing time, as not only did I get to meet/chat with many people from different countries, different sports and different disciplines within the same sport, but I also learnt a lot about other people's lives - and all that you see and read about can be very far from the truth. There are always going to be factions, egos, prima donnas, politics, rifts etc but there are also so many genuinely nice, hardworking people getting on with doing what they love!




Commonwealth Duvet

I shouted myself hoarse every evening at Hampden, actually went for a facial and massage in the Village Beauty Centre, took advantage of having my laundry done and meals prepared, made some great new friends....but it did seem rather unreal. I'm used to my own company - at work (yes it's a group practice but I have my own consulting room), at home and when out running - so I did find it a bit much at times. On one occasion near the end of the week, I woke up and thought "wouldn't it be nice to just go home?", but that thought was soon replaced by "When will I ever have the chance to experience this again?" and "How lucky I am, as others will only dream of this week", so I stayed right through to the closing ceremony, sleeping under my Commonwealth Games duvet at night and proudly wearing my Team Scotland kit during the day!

Race Day



Name corrected the night before



Although it had been exceptionally hot and humid in the run up to the weekend, the weather appeared to have broken, and so “marathon morning” dawned grey and overcast – good dreich Glasgow weather. I don’t think you ever sleep well the night before a race, but then I hadn’t slept much in the few nights prior to it either, so to my surprise, I managed to get off to sleep OK. I was awake far ahead of my alarm, but tried to stay in bed and “rest”. Hayley and Susan were going for breakfast at 6:30, but I need to eat later than most, so I got into my kit and had my “bagcheck” prior to making my way to the dining hall.



The competition!

 The other two had been very helpful to me as team newbie, but it was nice to sit alone in a near empty dining hall and gather myself (ie stress!!). I made up another jam sandwich to eat down at the course and met the others outside to be escorted to the 7:30 bus. It was finally happening, yet didn’t seem real! What made it seem even more of a random group jaunt out, was that the bus couldn’t get to Glasgow Green due to road closures etc and so the driver just dropped us on what appeared to be a random Glasgow street and told us that we’d have to walk from there.

 It was now spitting with rain, so we were glad to be able to go into a tent and sit down once we found the warmup area. The guys were off 28 minutes (random) before us so we had a chance to wish them well before they went into “First call” (First call and second call were amalgamated, but basically this is an area where you have swop your ID for a chip, have your numbers, name and kit checked, and are allowed no electronics etc – and after which you have to be escorted if you want to go to the toilet etc).



In the warm-up tent



After the lads had gone into first call, we went out to the warmup area – this was basically the race route from about 200m in, so a few people were starting to gather along in. It was nice to get a couple of shouts as the three of us jogged together (good team bonding – everyone else was out running solo!! – and what’s more I got to run with two amazing Scottish marathon runners!!), then it was time to change our shoes, pin on our numbers, hand over phones etc, and head over to the start.

In the call room, one of the officials checking our chips, numbers and kit was none other than Sandra Branney - another amazing runner who held the Scottish Native marathon record of 2:37:29 from the Glasgow marathon way back in 1986 (a native record is the fastest time run on Scottish soil by anyone eligible to represent Scotland), yet had no artificial airs and graces. We must’ve been checked at least 3 times each – which I did find rather funny – as how anyone could think that you would run a better marathon with a mobile phone concealed in your knickers is beyond me!

There were no toilets in that area so we had to be escorted back to the warmup area every time we needed a nervous portaloo trip – and it certainly amused the officials to see how often girls can ask to go! At 9:20 we were sent out into the road to get ready. It was a relatively narrow road, and as the start gantry and press filled most of it, there seemed to be hardly anyone around. We were allowed a short warmup and then were called forward to the start line. We cheered and clapped as they announced the leading ladies – and then I dropped back to about 15m behind the others. I felt like a giant compared to some of the small African ladies, and knew that I needed to keep moving my knees to stop them “locking up” at the start so I gave people space so as not to distract them.



Super Support!

I don’t remember hearing a countdown as we were off before I even had time to think about it, which is amazing, as I’d been worrying about the first 50m of the race ever since I was selected. With minimal knee dramas I was away and running, and by the time we rounded the first corner I was with the back of the second group. As we headed up the first “incline” (ie hill), I heard a familiar voice shout my name, and spotted my friend Ian waving at me – that was an amazing boost as I knew that he’d driven all the way up from the Wickerman festival to support me!

As the hill topped out we rounded a corner and a big grin broke out across my face as I spotted my family at the side of the road with their support banner (unfortunately I didn’t realise they were going to move around to spot me in different places so they weren’t there when I looked at the same place on the next lap!). We were still running in central Glasgow so there was a huge crowd presence lining the roads – which became even more obvious as we ran down the pedestrianised area (I had wondered how that would affect the general public but everyone seemed happy to be supporting rather than shopping).



With Gladys



I knew that I wouldn’t see the leaders again until after the finish, but I could see Hayley slightly further down the street ahead of me. I knew that Gladys Ganiel (of NI) had a PB only 8s slower than mine, so I thought I might be running a similar pace to her. She did, however, cover the first couple of miles about 10s quicker than PB pace, so I figured she must be in great shape and that I should drop back and run my own pace to avoid blowing up spectacularly in front of the home crowd later on in the race. It didn’t really compute with me that I would then be running the whole way solo!

  

Concentrating under a bridge

As I ran under a road bridge, it suddenly became really dark and I couldn’t see anyone at the side of the route, but I know the support was there as the noise became deafening, and so I found that I couldn’t help but grin. Running alongside the Clyde and over the “squinty bridge” I recognised many friends – too many to mention everyone by name, but you know who you are and so I thank you all!

I’m not sure how it went for others but the first water station worked well for me – it was on the right hand side of the road as promised and Mark (a Team Scotland official) was holding out my bottle for me to grab. A comical moment was when someone shouted “run faster, you’ve almost got her” as Gladys was only a short distance ahead of me – little did they realise that we were only 5K into a 42K race!

There was plenty to look at (apart from the blue line on the road) as I ran along, as I spotted stilt walkers and entertainers as well as several Glasgow running clubs out to support and cheer. I had forgotten about the “inclines” in Bellahouston Park so was caught slightly unaware by them. They don’t seem so bad when you’re just doing a mile rep or a jog warmup, but in a race they suddenly appear much steeper, but again some familiar faces and shouts helped. It was noticeable that the wind was picking up as when you ran through a spray station most of the water was blown away from you rather than falling on you.



In Pollock Park

Turning a corner on top of a hill, I could see that Gladys had almost caught up to Hayley (and indeed they worked together for most of the rest of the race), but I also spied a Lesotho runner coming back to me (and I got her in Pollock Park). Just after entering Pollock Park, I spied the most “interesting” supporter on the route – a Shetland pony being held at the outside of a 90 degree bend with a large saltire tied over her back (the benefits of running alone....those running in groups at this point said that they missed her!). I knew there were several sharp hills in Pollock but Derek Hawkin (running in the men’s race)’s mum was standing halfway up the first one wearing a blue wig shouting encouragement, and the second one (up to the Burrell collection) was lined with people, so I actually enjoyed them, despite the rain that was now falling. An unexpected bonus was the fact that all of the sleeping policemen in the park had been removed for the race, so no excuses for accidental trips on tired legs.



A Happy Runner!

The next few miles stretched out in front of me with no runners in sight, and less support on the roads (though it was gathered in pockets). I felt comfortable tripping along, with the only slight upset being the 3^rd feed station. It was manned for us by one of the triathlon support squad, and instead of holding out the bottle as prearranged he just pointed to show where it was on the table next to him – not really an issue at all, but anything unexpected can throw you off your stride.

Back into the centre of town and the support had built up again – I spotted my Running Club feather flags with many familiar faces on both sides of the road, so I just couldn’t stop grinning. I was loving being out there, though admittedly, I would have preferred to have people to run with.

Passing my DRC mates

As I came round to the start/finish gantry, I could see that the race was being led by one of the Kenyan ladies, as they showed her time, along with mine (in 18^th place) and that of those just ahead of me. It did amuse me that we were given a bell to mark our final lap (of 13.1miles) and that the lap counter had gone down by 1. I felt quite upbeat about the run so far, and thought I’d held my own pace quite well, but I knew the second lap would be tougher as the wind had picked up a bit.

Rounding a corner to start the climb back up into town, I saw an English runner sitting down at the side of the road – the medic in me wondered if she was OK but as she was sitting up with 2 Clydesiders beside her, I realised that I could not really be of extra help and so had better just get on with my own run (I later learned that it was Aly Dixon who had pulled out with calf/Achilles pain). Unfortunately, because I was looking over to the right to see what was happening, I didn’t notice my family over to my left (and so I probably wasn’t smiling in those pictures, heading alone up another hill).

I started to reel the next runner in and passed her just as we entered the pedestrianised zone again (much to the delight of the crowds), though I worried that my sister wouldn’t be impressed with me as she was Namibian (my sister spent her year out after school in Namibia), and then managed to pass another couple of runners over the course of the lap (1 from Rwanda and another from Lesotho), though I didn’t spot that one of them was running barefoot (or so I was told afterwards).

After the initial sea of noise I found the second lap much harder going as I seemed to be permanently running into the wind. Many of the crowds further out on the course had dispersed – either driven away by the weather or else they had headed towards the finish in time to watch the leading men – though the Shetland pony was still there!! I actually had to remind myself on certain occasions, eg in one of the parks, that I was in a race, not just out for a run (as I’ve run there before) and I could see neither other runners, nor supporters.

The third feed station was destined to be my nemesis, as on this occasion I wanted some plain water, but they’d run out – and the water tables beyond the “national” tables were completely empty and unmanned, which didn’t exactly help the way I was feeling. I knew that it was not the conditions or the race to be able to run a good time, so I tried to focus on the whole experience of being there and actually enjoy soaking up every minute of it. By the time I came back into town for the final 3 miles and saw my friends and clubmates again, I was starting to flag. They gave me a boost, as did the talking to I gave myself (“you’re actually running in the Commonwealth Games – this will never happen again”)!



The final corner

I had a motorbike following me by now, and the roar of support was pretty continuous for about a mile. There was a brief respite of a quiet section before the final river crossing (the 8^th of the race) back to Glasgow Green. In my head I knew there was only about a mile to run, but the corner appeared to be getting further and further away from me, hovering out of sight as the path twisted slightly.



The Finishing Straight

Finally I rounded the last corner (almost a U-turn) and saw the finish gantry away in front of me. The crowds were deafening here, as they all started banging the boards like there were at the F1 GP. It was an amazing experience and I crossed the line with my arms raised and a huge grin on my face – what a memory that’ll be!!



To the Finish!!!

Looking at the clock, I was really disappointed, but then I thought about what I’d just done – I’d run a marathon for Scotland, in Scotland, at the Commonwealth Games, at pretty short notice – and I’d run it alone (though with amazing crowd support) – and I’d done what I set out to do – my best on the day....and no one can take that away from me (and many people commented that I should get a medal for being the happiest runner as I couldn't stop smiling!)!!!!!

Much has been reported on the race, but respect to all who took part, all who supported, those who couldn’t be there, but especially to my awesome teammates Derek, Ross, Susan and Hayley for whom I’ve the most admiration, running the way they did that day - #GoScotland !!

O What a Night!



There had been a lot of “discussion” about our Opening Ceremony outfits in the run up to the Games – to the extent that some athletes felt rather unsupported by the general public, but I was really excited to be taking part in the Ceremony, as it is something I have only ever seen on TV in the past.

Initially, it seemed that there would be an awful lot of hanging around that day, but actually it became rather a rush to actually make the 2pm bus up to the village (the short press conference that morning dragged out over about 3 hours, so we only made it back to Irvine for lunch at 1:30pm). I’m not sure if it says something about how often I wear dresses, but I was getting onto the bus when I realised that I’d left my dress hanging up in our room – hence another headlong run back through the hotel!!

Perfect for carb-loading!

A 2pm bus did seem rather early for an evening ceremony, but it did take the best part of an hour to get up to Dalmarnock (where the Village was), and it turned out that the bus had to arrive at the “transport mall” in a pre-booked slot. Still, it meant that we could check out the various coffee/barista facilities on offer, and I had the chance to spend some time getting to know Hayley better, as we’ve only really met at races before.

We were given a timetable of “5pm dinner, 6pm change, 7pm photos, 8:45 line up to parade” but we interpreted that slightly liberally, as the main dining room has food available 24 hours a day, so a set dinnertime is rather meaningless. Ross was finishing his carb-depleting and joining me in carb-loading so we spent a while in the dining hall getting stuck-in, with Hayley being slightly envious of us (as she wasn’t starting her carb-load until the next day).

Athletics Team



Marathon team



We were sharing the Athletics portion of Scotland Street with the shooters who had come down from Carnoustie for the Opening, so had to get changed 5 to a room, but this only added to the exciting party atmosphere. It was great to see everyone dressed up - other nations obviously thought the same thing as they all hung out of their accommodation taking pictures as we lined up for our formal sport-specific  photos. While other sports were being snapped, Ross and I nipped up to  “Casual Dining”  to check out the smoothies they made up for us (I nearly came a cropper with mine when we were all told to fling our hands in the air for the overall Team Scotland picture afterwards!!).



As the host nation, we had to parade in at the back, so although it meant a lot of time just standing around at the end of Scotland Street in the village, it did mean that we watched many other nations walk past us to the exit of the village. Some people looked like airline stewards/stewardesses – smart but rather nondescript. I preferred some of the bright flowing costumes of the African nations, or the green showercap (!) headgear of Sierra Leone....and there’s the traditional overgrown schoolboy look (blazers, kneelength shorts, long socks and smart shoes) of Bermuda!!

Libby had been at the rehearsal 2 days earlier so had warned us that it would run late, but we did seem to line up for an awfully long time (which caused me a lot of foot/heel pain by the end of the night/the next day). I think it took us about 90 mins to walk half a mile, but as we were behind Wales in the queue, there was a lot of singing banter (Hayley practically learnt all the words to Flower of Scotland by the time we made it to Celtic Park due to the number of time we sang it!).



The Red Arrows

Waving the flag as we sang

Unfortunately we didn’t get to see most of the ceremony as the Athletes’ Parade is near the end, but it sounded good from what we could hear – and I was recording it at home to watch in a couple of weeks. There were a couple of screens near the Emirates Arena so we saw a few nations parade in. The sun set, lights came on, the red arrows flew overhead, the temperature cooled (so we were all actually quite glad to have our tartan jimonos), and the excitement built. People started jostling around to get to the front (it’s not often that endurance runners find themselves ahead of relay runners), and then suddenly we were handed coloured lights to put on our fingers! Singing with everyone, lights in the air, watching Euan wave the flag facing us really brought out the emotions in everyone. I find it hard to describe the feelings I had, but I’ll not forget them!

We were held back at the top of the ramp into the Stadium to avoid the “crowds going wild” for Scotland and taking away from Wales’ moment of glory, and it made you feel rather nervous as we could see how full it was – everywhere you looked was a sea of faces! Then we were off......what can I say?.......

Walking, waving, smiling, giggling with Hayley and Ross – so much to look at, senses and emotions overloaded, so happy and proud...

Look at their faces as he fails to open the baton!

As Team Athletics, we were meant to be “walking in and walking out” to get the bus back to Irvine, but I had been allowed to stay until the end of the ceremony (I pleaded my case as Libby was taking the Athlete’s Pledge at the end, and so I wanted to stay and watch my roomie – and it made sense for us to travel back together afterwards). What a night – listening to speeches, standing on my chair, singing away, and trying not to laugh when they couldn’t open the baton to get the Queen’s message out. We had been showered in confetti when we walked into the stadium, and were again at the end as everyone got up and danced – but this time, the confetti was all good luck wishes from schoolchildren all over Scotland – what a lovely touch!!

Afterwards I linked up with Libby and Mikhail (it turned out that I was the best guide for leading them through crowds of athletes – being a marathon runner has it’s advantages – sorry Mikhail) to get a lift back to Irvine (via the foodhall in the village clearly!!). We actually only got back half an hour after the others on the bus......at 2am.....but what a day to remember forever!!!!

Holiday Camp?



Waiting for Libby to arrive



I had no idea what to expect from a "Holding Camp".......so it was not without trepidation that I headed up to Irvine after work at the start of the week. A holding camp is designed for athletes to put the final touches onto their training and start their mental preparation for racing so I wasn't sure exactly how that would fit in with a pre-marathon taper.

I thought that whatever else it involved, at least it would be a good opportunity to get to know some of my team mates better. To a certain extent that was true, as my room mate (the awesome) Libby Clegg and I spent many hours putting the world to rights (ie giggling and gossiping, though I'm not sure I've ever made someone go to sleep laughing before) - and I certainly confirmed that the endurance runners and the throwers do get on the best. Some others, however, remained slightly apart from the rest of us, and others were preparing elsewhere (and some were even still competing).



A marathon just to get ot the dining room!



The camp did provide an opportunity for me to go and support friends in a nearby 5 mile race, and it also meant a change of scenery in that I could do a couple of short easy runs on a new cycle path. It did seem

weird to be staying in a hotel, but even if my sleep wasn't the best, at least I was away from the pressure of work.

One thing I did discover is that everything takes much much longer than you are led to believe.....though I did learn that if you are important, then things happen more to schedule, so maybe the answer is to be more demanding.....but then again I was still in awe of just being there and would go along with everything I was told!



Finally I made it into the Village



Tour Guide Ross in Scotland Street



A "quick" trip up to the Athletes' Village to get my accreditation sorted took 5 hours. Some of the others managed a 15 minute turnaround, but not me! They'd corrected my name from the way it had been written at Stirling (zakrEzewski) but for some reason had mistyped my passport number. This meant that I had to sit in the entrance tent for the best part of an hour while it was corrected, and so by the time I got out and made it across to Scotland Street to exchanged mis-sized kit (or even mis-sexed kit, as I had been given mens' polo shirts) there was nothing left in the right size. Still, at least Ross got to show me round the village (he'd been on the formal pre-visit) while we waited for the next bus back. Some further transport issues then meant I got to sit for even longer in the food hall......but I wasn't complaining....what a spread there was.....yummmmm!



Outisde the press conference



Inside the press conference



A short press conference can also take 3 hours..... by the time you've spoken to everyone detailed to you (it was the Sunday papers for me, as the marathon was timetabled for the Sunday), and they've taken pictures (not quite sure why I had to sit elegantly by the track lane numbers), and then several TV crews have caught you for an interview and a bit of filming. I still wonder exactly what I said to everyone, and who on earth would want to read about me! It did mean it was rather a rush to make the bus for the opening Ceremony (which in itself was a 12 hr round trip, and worth a separate blogpost.......but o so worth it!).



Race nails...



 

I also used some of my newly found spare time to get some patriotic nail art done......well, if I was going to have to do the ultimate "walk of shame" and run round Glasgow on a Sunday morning in my knickers, then I'd rather that people looked at my nails than anything else!



Signing autographs!!!

 

Q&A with the kids



I met a friend for a brief dip in the pool, followed by a longer coffee and cake trip, and also ended up at a question and answer session with a local running club. I felt like a slight anomaly as the other athletes talked about all the hours they trained (more than double the time I spend running) and what facilities they had, while I said that I just "went out of my front door and turned left" but it was interesting to hear from people in different disciplines, and made me feel that I knew them better at the end. Bless the kids though - some of them even wanted my autograph afterwards......at work they just want it on a prescription!



All too soon, I was packing my bags again for the final trip up to Glasgow. We didn't all go up together, as most of "Team Athletics" only moved into the Village 2 days prior to competing, so it was odd to think that the marathon would be over by the time I saw some of them again......scary.......

Sharing the Experience

Although the approaching Games is rather nerve-wracking, it’s also quite exciting. I have realised that I am in an incredibly lucky position to be actually taking part. I am sure that many of my friends would have been there themselves if it were not for illness, injury and other things outwith their control, and many more would love to have had the opportunity to be a part of it.

For this reason, I’m going to try to write about my experiences when I can  so that we can all share in the journey.

While I’m not coming down from a big block of training, I still realise that I must ignore the temptation to do too much at too late a date. If it takes about 3 weeks to see a benefit from specific training, then squeezing an extra session or run in now will just make me tired with no benefit and so actually be detrimental on the day.

Even the top runners must start to doubt their training and themselves as the race approaches, so I’m trying to stay positive and accept what my sensible self (and others) are saying in that I’ve done all I can. At the end of the day, an event such as a marathon can be a bit of a lottery – no matter well people have prepared, some will have a better day than others, but it’s a case of getting to the start line in the best shape you can. 



How coordinated?



Kit trials for a shy runner

Tapering is almost a swearword to some people, but it does give you a lot of time to get everything else sorted. In the past few days, I’ve managed to catch up more with family and friends than I have in a while – no, not big nights out, but skype and phone calls, coffee and cake dates etc. I’ve been to see the physio to get a stretch of my ever tight hip flexors (actually, if I’m honest it was really to eat his birthday cake!), I’ve retaxed my car, had meetings at work about job interviews, paid my tax bill, made the decision about whether to cut my hair neatly for the Opening Ceremony or keep it so that it fits into a ponytail (function wins over fashion I’m afraid!), cut the grass, watered the plants, and eaten up most of the food in the fridge. I even found some less populated area (the local track and a local back road) to try out my kit without being seen (much!), and have realised that my race kit is so colour-coordinated that even my Irish friend Nicola would be impressed (she always seems to match in races!).

Now all that remains is to get sorted with the packing, and avoid any patients with infectious D&V in my last surgeries and on house visits before travelling up to “Holding Camp”.....