Helsinki City Marathon 2014 - Review

I've been thinking for some time that I need to come up with a better way of reviewing races, something that is a little bit less subjective than "What a great race!". 
So here's my crack at coming up with a slightly more objective scoring system, whilst also providing a bit of detail and "colour" about the event.
No doubt I'll still churn out my rambling tome's too, but hopefully you might find this helpful or at least of interest.

I've set it up to give a score between 100 and 20, and it's weighted so if for example a race doesn't give out a T-shirt, then that doesn't count adversely and it still gets a score out of 100, clever stuff Eh.

I'll do some work on the formatting as I now realise you may need a magnifying glass to read the detail, but I thought I'd better post a score for my last race, before I run this weekend's Tiree Ultra.

The Helsinki City Marathon earned a score of 80 on the Ainslie-ometer. 

Cheers

Lakeland 50 2015

I've been a bit quiet lately from a blog perspective, I ran a couple of local races but nothing that stood out enough to make me hit the keyboard, all that changed at the weekend though with my second attempt at the Montane Lakeland 50.

I ran last year, finishing in 12:10:40, just happy to finish the event and still be upright, this year I was hoping for a half decent PB.

The initial plan was for me, Andy B and Caroline to do a bit of pot hunting and race as a three person mixed team. This blatant piece of carpet bagging fell apart when race entries opened and the 1000 available places sold out in 18 minutes. It had taken me over 20 minutes to fill in all the entry details for 3 people so when I hit enter; it was “race full”. Our cunning plan was foiled!

I managed to get a solo place on the waiting list, which was quickly confirmed and Caroline bagged one of the very limited number of charity places, Andy was tied up at work all day and by the time he hit the website, the race was full with no waiting list.

So be warned if this little epic tempts you for next year, you WILL need to be sitting on your keyboard when race entries go live at 9am on September 1^st.

The L50 is run concurrently with its big brother the L100 (which is actually 105 miles), with race HQ and the finish for both events at the John Ruskin school in Coniston. The L100 starts there at 6pm on the Friday evening with the L50 starting at the Dalemain estate, near Penrith at 11:30 on the Saturday morning.

Camping for 2 nights is included in your race fee and there is on-site catering to supplement the local pubs and restaurants.

We arrived on site around 4pm which gave ample time to pitch our tent, settle in and wander up to the Black Bull Inn in time to see the 100 mile runners set off and grab a bite to eat with Andy Johns; Howard Seal and Susan Gallagher.

Caroline - last minute race prep

We then headed down to formally register. This was a very thorough but efficient process of kit checking, where you were required to show every item of compulsory kit, with quite a few people falling foul of this and being sent off to purchase whatever didn't make the grade. Having passed through this process you were handed your number, weighed and fitted with your timing “dibber” collected your race map; route book and Montane branded buff.

We'd decided beforehand that a quiet evening was in order so after packing my trusty but soon to be retired Salomon X-wings race vest it was time for an early night. Sadly I’d failed to share my plan with my fellow campers and a steady symphony of slamming portaloo doors, quiet chat’s which were not so quiet and car doors and boots opening and closing kept me wide awake. I also managed to hear the Coniston church clock chiming 1am; 2am 5am and 6am by which time the field was waking up and further sleep was impossible.

If you're thinking of doing it next year and a pre-race solid sleep is a prerequisite………you have been warned!

Sunset over Coniston

With around 700 people all looking for breakfast, I'd opted to avoid the queue and plumped for my usual pot of porridge and a rice pudding, a quick shower, race kit on and then headed to the 8:30am race briefing.

Joint RD’s Terry and Marc gave a concise race brief, including the reminder that we were NOT “just running the 50” and that what we were about to undertake was a pretty big thing!

From there it was straight onto the fleet of coaches to take us to the race start at Dalemain estate, where we arrived with a good hour to spare before race start at 11:30am.

Although I was completely confident that I'd finish and pretty confident I'd beat last years’ time of 12:10:40 my lack of sleep the night before was playing on my mind. I opted to find a patch of grass to lie on and just shut my eyes and relax for 45 minutes, whilst Caroline headed off to find a bacon roll.

Andy Johns - looking relaxed pre start

I continue to be amazed at the number of runners who stand around before the off, (wearing full race kit) when they should, in my view be taking the weight off their feet. I was equally amazed at the size of the packs some runners were proposing to carry; they looked big enough for a weekend camp!

Dalemain to Howton     Total distance covered 11.2

miles            1 hour 35 minutes           67^th place

My rough race plan was to run the first two legs faster than I did last year, on the basis that other than the hike up Fusedale this is the flattest most runnable part of the route. I know there is no such thing as “banking time” on an Ultra but I reckoned I'd be slowing down in the second half anyway irrespective of how I'd ran the first half.

There is a 4 mile loop round the Dalemain estate before you hit the route proper mostly on my least favourite running surface – grass. 

I’d positioned myself at what I estimated was about 100 places from the front and pretty much as soon as we were under the start gantry I found myself running just behind Debbie Martin-Consani, last year’s L100 ladies winner;  a consummate master of steady race pacing and a far faster runner than me. I decided there and then that there was no way I should be running ahead of Debs, not apparently a view shared by dozens of other blokes who stormed this first loop like they were running a 10K and passed her. I decided to stick just behind Debbie as long as I didn't feel like I was pushing myself too hard. I stopped at the river just before Pooley Bridge to dip one of my buffs in the river and drape it Foreign Legion style over my head, whilst nothing like as hot as 2014, it was still promising to be a warm days work.

On the climb out of Pooley Bridge, I ran most of the tarmac section and used my run 50 walk 50 tactic on the rougher trail, I could still see Debbie up ahead (running all the way) as my pace target. Just before the right turn onto the track to Howton I passed a family group being led by a young guy carrying an artificial leg over his shoulder, followed shortly after by a one legged gentleman in an off road wheelchair, definitely my most bizarre sight of the day!

The trail towards Howton CP is mostly downhill, non-technical and very runnable so I pushed hard on this section to keep Debbie in view, albeit she was steadily drawing away from me. As I ran into the Wild West themed CP she was already running out.

The CP staff quickly refilled my water bottles and I grabbed a Chia Charge flapjack downed a cup of coke and I was off, using the short uphill section to wolf down the flapjack, my second objective of the day being to try and actually eat some proper food during the race.

Howton to Mardale Head            Total distance covered 20.6 miles            3 hours 44 minutes 79^th Place

Almost immediately after Howton you are faced with the biggest climb of the L50, the dreaded Fusedale where you climb around 1700 feet in around 2.5 miles. Last year I'd have sold a testicle for a pair of walking poles at this point. This year I kept the testicle and used the lightweight Mountain King Trail Blaze poles I’d bought a couple of weeks earlier, knocking 3 minutes of my time for the climb. After the climb there is a sloping descent over Weather Hill towards Low Kop, this area was pretty wet underfoot and my main priority was to avoid soaking my feet this early on in the day, some people passed me ploughing through puddles and bog, I wonder how they fared later with soaked shoes and socks?

Haweswater

There is a sharp drop through waist deep bracken down to the northern shore of Haweswater and a pleasant and runnable stretch towards the next CP at Mardale Head, I ran into the CP doing my feeble attempt at the Morecombe and Wise “bring me sunshine” dance.

I could feel the insoles on my Salomon Speedcross 3’s had slipped and were creasing up, so I decided a spot of shoe maintenance was in order. I opted for some hot soup and a jam sandwich, whilst I carefully sorted my shoes for the next section.

Mardale Head to Kentmere        Total distance covered 27.1 miles            5 hours 18 minutes         77^th place

Once you leave the Mardale head CP there is no gentle build up, you are straight onto the steep climb up and over Gatescarth pass, which although at 1100 feet is less than Fusedale, is covered in around 1.2 miles and is comic book steep. Once again I was very glad I was using poles.

Gatescarth Pass Photo from www.cloudyskiesandraining.com

The race organisers use a simple but clever way of differentiating 100 and 50 milers. Everyone wears your race number on your back pack, 100 milers are in yellow with your name printed below the number. I made a point of giving a shout out to each and every 100 mile runner I passed, I can only marvel at the fitness; stamina and determination needed to complete that distance.

I'm not huge fan of the descent towards Sadgill, with the “road” surface on the descent being a horrid mix (to my mind) of loose scree alternating with longitudinal sharp blocks of stone at right angles to your line of descent and larger erratic blocks of stone with significant ankle turning potential.

At 6.5 miles this is one of the shortest legs between checkpoints it’s also the one I'm least familiar with so was happy to arrive at Kentmere without mishap.

Two more cups of Coke, a water bottle refill and a small bowl of pasta and some further shoe maintenance and I was off towards Ambleside.

Kentmere to Ambleside               Total distance covered 34.4 miles            7 hours 2 minutes            74^th place

The weather had been incredibly kind to us so far, it was sunny and warm but not the brain boiling heat of 2014. Kentmere sits in a valley surrounded by hills and as I jogged out of the CP I distinctly remember thinking “I wonder which of these big f**k-off hills we'll be climbing up next”. I needn't have worried myself as it was, of course the biggest of the hills in view and the climb over the Garburn Pass!

As I descended into Ambleside I chatted briefly to John Kynaston who was running the L100 and was looking genuinely fresh, he was well on target for a sub 30 hour finish. Through the centre of Ambleside milking the crowds and charging across the two road crossings without breaking stride and it was into the circus themed checkpoint at Ambleside. In fact I was so focussed on pratting about that I almost forgot to dib in my timing chip.

Into my checkpoint routine, soup, sandwich and shoe maintenance until a gentle reminder from Noanie to stop fannying about and get running again.

Ambleside to Langdale Total distance covered 40 miles                                8 hours 11 minutes         66^th place

The next most runnable section of the race, with a couple of pan flat riverside tracks and the section where I think you can gain or lose the most time. My mantra here was “any run is faster than a walk”, I was becoming more focussed on maximising the daylight time, because any running in the dark would be slower than in the daylight.

Just out of Ambleside I shouted a warning to a group of 4 guys who had shot off in the wrong direction, I got a heartfelt “thank-you” when one of them subsequently passed me. A pretty uneventful section for me, I know I've broken the back of the race, I’m confident that barring disaster I'll get a PB and I'm running stretches that I was walking last year.

Langdale to Tilberthwaite           Total Distance covered 46.5 miles            9 hours 43 minutes         66^th place

More coke; a bowl of vegetable soup this time, re-sort my shoes (they are definitely going in the bin when this is over!) and I'm on my way towards the unmanned checkpoint beyond Blea Tarn. After the short sharp climb over Side Pike pass I stop and take brief moment to “toast” the view. I'm feeling pretty good here and manage to run all the way to the dibber and keep up a decent run all the way past the NT house. I'm aware now of the fading light and I make a conscious decision to keep my time at Tilberthwaite to a minimum, as I’m running along the road section to the CP I feel a sharp pain on the sole of my right foot. I reckon I've just popped a blister so I decide in advance I'm not risking taking that shoe off, I'll just tough it out with so little distance left to run.

Tilberthwaite to Coniston           Total distance 50 miles 10 hours 43 minutes 23 seconds                72^nd place

A quick cup of coke, I’m OK for water and I sit down to sort my left shoe, as I’m trying to put it back on I get my first proper twinge of cramp all day, it takes a minute or so to get the shoe on without cramping and I'm off up the “stairway to heaven”. It's only 3.5 miles and 750 feet of climb to the finish, but the light is fading fast now as the sky clouds over. 

I keep a good yomp up on the steep climb, but on the potentially runnable bits I’m unable to muster a run, it’s getting too dark and my legs are too tired to risk a fall, so I'm passed by a strong looking group of guys (including two 100 milers) and lose 6 places. I manage to reach the top of the descent and can see the lights of Coniston below before I admit defeat and don my head torch. Bizarrely it’s here that I have my longest stop of the day as I decide to strap my poles to my pack and discover that my head torch has got itself in a Gordian knot of a tangle, I try running few steps with it in my hand, before stopping to sort it properly. I use a Petzl Nao but the combination of a brilliant white beam, light coloured stones underfoot which meant I had no depth perception and a rocky steep and technical path underfoot brings me back to a slow steady walk. It’s only when I hit the more graded road above the Miners Bridge that I can break into a proper run for the last downhill mile.

As I turn onto the main street in Coniston to welcome cheers from the pub goers, I see Andy Beattie taking my photo. Glad as I was to see him I wasn’t slowing for anything now, mustering my first sub 8 minute mile for some time, I pushed onto the finish.

10:43:23                PB by 1 hour 27 minutes

Each and every finisher is greeted by a marshal whose task is to guide you into the hall and to asses if you are mentally and physically OK. By good fortune I was greeted by WHW race veteran Andy Cole. As each and every finisher is walked through the School Hall, they are heralded by a marshall shouting "50 Finisher" and a great cheer, a really nice touch.

Then you pick up your medal, part company with your timing dibber are handed a printout with your splits and your race t-shirt, this year it's a pucka Montane Branded one.

Andy was right there asking me if I needed anything? I've started to crave cold milk after my Ultra run's now and much to my amazement Andy produced 2 cups of Ice cold white stuff, just magic.

The race provides a free meal to each and every finisher so I settled down to a plate of Cottage Pie and washed it down with another 4 cups of milk.

Andy had been following Caroline's who was not having the best of days, so I popped off for a quick shower (lovely hot showers also provided foc.) and a change and then we headed into Coniston to wait for Caroline to finish, which she duly did in a very creditable 12 hours 25 minutes.

By her own admission she'd not got her nutrition right and had ground out a tough race, visiting some pretty dark places en route, she keeps threatening to write her own blog so I'll leave the telling of her tale to herself.

Two Happy Lakeland 50 finishers

Conclusion

I've done a lot of running on the West Highland Way and I'm regularly asked how the Lakeland races compare.

With no disrespect to the WHW, the Lakeland races are far far tougher, bigger climbs; steeper climbs; poorer ground conditions, overall much less runnable.

Overall I couldn't be happier, it's a colossal PB, far beyond my best goal of PB by 1 hour.

Now its time for a brief rest, before my next challenge the Helsinki Marathon in 4 weeks time.

To close I'd like to register a huge thanks to RD's Marc & Terry, to the veritable army of marshals and helpers who gave up their weekend, thanks for an epic Lakeland Adventure.

Cheers

Edinburgh Marathon 2014

This would be my 4th running of the Edinburgh Marathon, my 5th race in 5 weeks and standing conventional training and recovery wisdom on its head my 5th marathon or Ultra in just under 4 months.

I'd managed to pick up a relatively late charity place, running for Cancer Research UK so my main objective was focussed on fundraising rather than on time, although I still wanted to finish in a time I wouldn't be embarrassed about.

I drove up to Edinburgh the night before and stayed with my brother Ross, we enjoyed a quiet Mexican meal with my choice of Nachos with Jalapeños having the inevitable and rapid side effects. Although I managed a good nights sleep,and a civilised 8am alarm I still contrived to arrive at a chilly and windy London Road fully an hour before the start.

Despite being one of over 7000 runners it was a curiously lonely experience, as the sole Dumfries Harrier running the full marathon, and a real contrast to the friendly and sociable Ultra marathon scene.

Eschewing the sensible option of finding a coffee shop to stay warm in, I plonked myself on the pavement until I was so chilled I was shaking all over. Waiting 'till the last possible moment To put my bag on the baggage truck and made my way to the Red start pen, via two nerve induced toilet stops.

My appointed start pen was immediately behind the elite start, but knowing I wasn't in the same shape as my recent Malta marathon PB, I positioned myself right at the back of the 1000 or so runners.

I felt that with a following wind, I could average 8 minute miles to give me a finish in around 3 and a half hours, so immediately and rashly set off well below this at 7:30 - 7:45 pace!

It's well documented the the Edinburgh marathon starts in Edinburgh, but is really a tour of post industrial East Lothian.

The first mile takes you past Holyrood Palace, the Scottish Parliament and the brooding lump of Arthurs Seat but following a loop round Meadowbank it's 2 miles through quiet streets until the right turn onto Portobello prom at 5 miles. Thereafter keep the River Forth on your left for the next 13 miles until you turn round and you can't go wrong. There is of course the constant and slightly demoralising sight of the chimneys of the now decommissioned Cockenzie Power Station far ahead and the cheering thought that 

A - they are a bloody long way away; 

B - you are going to run past them an awful long way before you turn round and 

C - there is a distinct and noticeable blustery tailwind, which is inevitably going to make the final 8 miles both interesting and challenging.

A lot of folk complain that the support on the course is spartan, Okay it's not London marathon busy, but given the less than ideal weather I thought there was a good smattering of vocal and enthusiastic support throughout.

Back to the race.

Having spoken to precisely no-one for the first 8 miles and with only two brief "fanny around for the camera" moments to break the Tarmac pounding monotony, it was really nice to see Christina Schmidt at the 8 mile mark although I'm not sure if she was so enamoured with me lobbing my sweat soaked gloves at her for safekeeping. 

I held my pace below 8 minute miles all the way to the half marathon distance, passing this in 1 hour 41 minutes and briefly entertaining thoughts of a time in the low 3:20s. In fact I managed to maintain solid sub 8 minute miles all the way to the turn around point at 18 miles. Immediately on turning back west, the wind made its unwelcome presence known, and this wasn't a gentle spring puff to cool you, this was a proper noticeable headwind, it was going to be a long 8 miles to the finish!

There is a brief detour round the grounds of Gosford House and Estate and then you're back on the main road, running towards the stream of outbound runners. Initially it's a constant stream of hundreds, thinning out with every mile, until it's tens or runners then odd runners, then solo walkers and shufflers until you pass the last poor soul, being hunted down by the sweeper bus. Almost immediately my pace succumbed to the headwind, and almost as quickly runners around me were dropping to a walk, beaten by the wind, now I was slowly but mostly passing people, not quick not pretty but still passing.

With the wind gusting in our faces and the racing fairies reminding me I'd ran a 55 miler only two weeks ago my mile splits headed into the dark place that is 9 minute miles. I tried my counting 1 to 8 mantra, I tried my "any run is better than a walk" mantra, but to no avail, this was just going to be about grinding out a finish. I gave myself a stern talking to, "I've never walked in a marathon and I'm not going to bloody start now", it's time to wheel out ...........the Ultra shuffle.

(I was actually disappointed that I was taking a minute per mile longer until I heard a podcast with elite runner Steve Way (who finished in 2:29) saying that his entire second half was a minute a mile slower than his first half, if its good enough for Steve Way its good enough for me.)

About two miles from the finish a disgustingly cheery Ranjit from Dumfries Running Club ran past. He won't mind me saying but he's not the tallest bloke around and was happily drafting and chatting with his "draftee", shortly after he accelerated away to finish in a solid 3:28:20.

With one mile to go, I decided to man up and increased my pace again to 8 minute miles. The closer you get to the finish the thicker and noisier the crowds get. When you pass the Radio Forth cheering point there is a long straight towards the race course then a bend before the sharp left turn and the finish at Pinkie Park. Once I'm past the bend it's only a few yards, oh shit, oh shit it's not a few yards .....it's effing miles, I'm passing a lot of people now, the noise is rising, Oh thank the Lord, there's the turn. Sharp left and there's the finish arch about 200 yards away, I decide to forgo my usual milking of the crowd for more noise and I give it the beans. No-one is going to pass me now and I run like the hounds of hell are chasing me, although the evidence of the finish line video suggests otherwise, more of a studied plod than Usain Bolt.

I hear Sandra and Ian shouting on my right, but I'm too focused on the arch, nailed it......3 hours 30 minutes and 40 seconds.

There is no feeling in the world like finishing a marathon, relief, euphoria, satisfaction, joy all rolled into one, if I could bottle it and sell it I'd be the Richard Branson of the running world.

Momentary disappointment that I'm over 3:30, but only momentary. I feel like collapsing but keep walking to the finishers area, volunteers are handing out medals but I'll have none of that I insist it's hung round my neck. I collect my t-shirt and bottle of water and head to a quiet spot for a brief lie down.

Following a quick shower and a change, I'm heading to the shuttle buses for the ride back into Edinburgh proper, having negotiated the 1 mile uphill walk to the bus station with only minor swearing involved. I'm grateful to Ross who picked me up in London Road and gave me a lift back to my car, although I can't say I enjoyed the subsequent drive back to Dumfries.

I'm was slightly disappointed over the criticism of the race organisers on the EMF Facebook page. There were the usual moans about the route (solution...if you don't like the route don't sign up for the race). Moans about the weather...really folk, grow up, but most of the criticism seemed to focus on the fact that the finishers t-shirt was the same irrespective of whether you ran the full, half, 10K or relay events. It didn't bother me, in fact I was pleased that the design was a significant improvement on the plain blue of previous years.

Most importantly my fundraising for Cancer Research UK has now topped £1250, thanks to everyone who took the time to support me.

Cheers

Cateran Ultra - Race report........Take 3

My first time running the Cateran Trail Ultra, and my 3rd attempt at writing a blog post about my experience.

Take 1 was just a disaster, I just couldn't get going 

Take 2 was so rigidly awful,in the "I did this, then I did that" genre, even I was bored reading it.

So here goes with Take 3......

The basic facts

Photo by Amanda Hamilton

55 miles through beautiful rolling Perthshire countryside, 7400 feet of climb and descent, race limit 120; 77 starters for the 55 miler, 69 finishers. Based at the Gulabin Lodge Outdoor centre at Spittal of Glenshee, the northernmost point of the clockwise circular route passing through Kirkton of Glenisla, Den of Alyth, Blairgowrie, Bridge of Cally and Enochdhu. I finished in 30th place in 10 hours 53 minutes.

There were an army of helpers and marshals from Sandra and Helen in charge of catering, Julie at registration (handing out poo sacks); checkpoints dressed as an 80s disco, yellow suited minions and the effervescent Noanie telling us to "get our arses out of the checkpoint" all capped with a unique finishers trophy.

I had a brilliant time, I'd do it again and I'd recommend it to anyone.

RD Karen Donaghue has built a smashing race with an intimate family feel about it.

I ran with John Duncan and John Kynaston in the first half, both of whom finished in excellent times, after mile 30 I bumped into Jo Wilson and Richard Dennis and pretty much ran to the finish with them.

So is that it?

Yes and no

People who had done this race before described it as "more runnable than The Fling", it's 55 off-road miles but I think in my mind I translated this to "easy", bit of a rookie error there.

My fitness was not at issue I was always confident of a decent finish, but my lack of route knowledge, a good, but hard Fling 3 weeks before coupled with the knowledge that I'd be running the Edinburgh Marathon two weeks later certainly played on my mind.

I deliberately ate more than I've ever done on an Ultra, I ran what I felt was a conservative first half but by mile 30 I wasn't particularly in my happy place. The weather was pretty good for Ultra running with only 1 notable shower of rain, but there was a corker of a headwind for most of the second half.

So the ingredients were in place for a rotten race? Wrong.........just as I was starting to wallow in my self pity, I found myself running alongside Jo Wilson. Jo was First Lady at this year's D33 so she's no slouch, but this was her first time running longer than 33 miles and when we met she was in an even less happy place than me.

Bridge of Cally -courtesy of Amanda Hamilton

It turned out we have a mutual friend in Dumfries so we got chatting pretty quickly, she conceded she was "feeling emotional" so I wheeled out both my MTFU speech and my best Scout leader motivational tricks. Having someone else to chivvy along completely took my mind off my own race. Richard Dennis had been yo-yo- ing around us for probably 10 miles and he eventually decided that he might as well join our little pace bus.

In truth, by the time we got to the last checkpoint at Enochdu and having covered a good few miles at a relatively leisurely pace I could have pushed on for a better finish time but I was enjoying the company and the day so much that doing so would have felt both wrong and like breaking an unwritten bond of shared experiences. In fact just before the top of the final big climb (An Lairig) we agreed we'd finish and cross the line together.

We bagged a joint 30th place in 10:53:21 comfortably under 11 hours and firmly in the top half of the field.

Jo - Photo by John Mill

Richard - photo by John Mill

Yours truly -photo by John Mill

Now I'm not saying i sacrificed my race for the good of others, because I certainly didn't. I spent a good part of my race running with two people I'd never met in my life, but who, within 10 minutes was comfortably discussing extreme chafing, crying, embarrassing running incidents, poo and what an incredibly stubborn breed we ultra runners are. I suppose we must share certain personality traits to put our bodies and minds through these self imposed extreme challenges and then come back for more. I got a huge amount of pleasure from crossing the finish line with these new friends.

If you want a blow by blow account of racing the Cateran, I'd point you in the direction of Andy Johns, Keith Mabbott or John Kynaston's excellent write ups. Perhaps next time, and yes there will be a next time with a better idea of the geography I'll conjure up something in a similar vein.

Finish Line - photo by Muriel Downie

So now my inadvertent experiment in subjecting myself to 5 races in 5 weeks is drawing to its conclusion with this Sunday's Edinburgh Marathon. I did an unplanned 6 mile tempo run round Perth last night, well it was sunny so it would have been a waste not to. I'll probably run tomorrow then rest up before Sunday.

I've absolutely no idea how I'll get on, I'm certainly not going out for a PB, I'd like to think I could maintain 8 minute miles which should give me around 3:30, but I'll be happy with a finish.

Wish me luck

Cheers

Troon Tortoises 10K road race 2015

I suppose one of the potential benefits of shorter races should be shorter blog posts so here goes.

It's quite a while since my running club sent a large group to participate in a race and despite initial enthusiasm and sign ups when entries opened in February, this number was whittled down by injury, work and other distractions from 15  to 7 Harriers toeing the line on the night.

I'd managed to wangle my work schedule to be in Ayrshire and I narrowly made it on time, turning up a mere two and a half hours before the race started! The upside being I had no trouble finding a parking place, no queue to collect my number, no queue for the bogs and I was able to rest my eyes in the car for an hour.

This race is one of a diminishing number of midweek races, but remains incredibly popular being both a sell-out and attracting over 900 runners this year persuaded by the excellent value, chip timing and fast and flat route it offers.

The start and finish is on the Troon seafront with a brisk and blustery wind on the night promising a tailwind on the first kilometre and a challenging headwind for the final 1000 metres.

A few minutes before 7pm Andy, Emma, Lesley and myself positioned ourselves close to the 42 minutes sign. I felt this was realistic, but had a slight confidence quiver when I looked back and saw that this put us very close to the sharp end. Eight hundred people behind you on a 10 K is an awful lot of people, too late to change now, we're off.

Much to my surprise I wasn't immediately trampled and overwhelmed by a rampaging horde of skinny road runners, in the first kilometre I was probably overtaken by 10 people and in turn overtook about 10 people myself, so perhaps, for once most runners had put themselves in the correct "starting pen".

The route is flat other than two spots where the road crosses the railway line, and is on footpaths, quiet residential roads and a couple of very short bits on Tarmac track, a definite PB potential race. It's incredibly well marshalled with a reasonable smattering of support, particularly on the second half.

I've got no tales of interesting conversations or musings about the magnificence of the scenery as its a 10K so I was working too hard to talk and you're mostly running through housing estates and around the perimeter of Troon Municipal golf course.

 

Troon 10 K route

From the off Andy disappeared into the distance and although I overtook Emma around 1K, she promptly repaid the favour and that was the last I saw of her till the finish!

I was acutely aware that this race fell a mere 10 days after the Highland Fling and 10 days before my first crack at the 55 mile Cateran Ultra so my race plan was to aim for sub 7 minute miles, ease off if things hurt and hold on if I could.

My mile splits were 6:43 6:56 6:51 6:56 6:53 6:51 and although I was working hard, I didn't feel I was majorly "in the red" at any point. The last kilometre is back along the seafront into a noticeable headwind which allowed me to pass a couple of people and my usual sprint in the final 100 metres gave me another couple of scalps, I finished in 42 minutes dead, knocking 42 seconds of my PB. I'm pretty chuffed with that given the complete absence of any speed work in my training this year.

The slick organisation continued after the finish with runners being funnelled to collect your technical t-shirt, commemorative buff, water and a Tunnocks Caramel wafer, incredible value race for £10 especially for a chip timed event.

Carol, Emma, Doug, Lesley, me, Carolyn & Andy

For the record the Dumfries contingent finished as follows

Andy Beattie     40:37     49th

Emma Knowles  41:09     64th (and 8th lady overall).  PB

Keith Ainslie      42:00    74th.   PB

Lesley Jeffrey    43:30    111th

Douglas Kerr      47:11    218th.   PB

Carol Graham    55:01     547th.    PB

Carolyn Davies   1:10:22  897th

Well done to Troon Tortoises RC who organise the event, it's a race I'd thoroughly recommend.

Cheers

Hoka Highland Fling 2015 - running 8 steps at a time

My 4th consecutive year of running this incredible event which RD John Duncan has built into the largest Ultra in Scotland, so a well practiced Ainslie routine for race weekend itself.
I'd booked accommodation well before entering, knowing from past years how quickly the limited availability in Tyndrum and Milngavie disappears when race entries do go live. Friday would be the Premier Inn in Milngavie (not the one behind the Burnbrae) and Saturday the Dalkell Cottage B & B mere yards from the finish itself.
Registration was busy but efficient and by 8 pm Caroline, Andy , myself and my wife Ann, who would be acting as crew chief and general factotum were enjoying an unspectacular but reasonably priced dinner in the adjoining restaurant and heading for a sensibly early night. The main mirth deriving topic of conversation being the Facebook posts on the Fling page with photos of unfeasible quantities of drop-bag food that some people were packing, there were at least two, where a single drop bag contained about twice what I'd packed in entirety!.......oh how we seasoned veterans laughed.

A 4:50 alarm allowed plenty of time to dress, fuel up on porridge and rice pudding; arrange which bags Ann was taking to the finish line, deposit drop bags, say a few "hellos" and "good lucks" with minimal standing around time. Andy opted for the faster first wave of runners with Caroline and myself in the second 10 - 12 hour group. This year there was a distinct gap of around 90 seconds between the two and this certainly helped spread the field even in the early stages through Mugdock Park.

If you've followed my earlier musings at Malta Marathon and D33, you may recall I've adopted a "stop fannying around" approach in a determined effort to improve my race times this year. I felt that if things went well on the day I could beat last years 10:50:47. Whilst chatting as you run is definitely more fun, I've reached the conclusion that for me, it uses energy which can only be detrimental to my efforts, not sociable but practical. An unintended additional consequence is that I tend to be more "inside my own head" and race focused and less observant of people and places around me.

Milngavie - Drymen - Balmaha - Rowardennan

Usual countdown, hooter goes and its through the underpass and on our way. The weather was cool with a threat of rain, so compression t-shirt; long sleeved HH top; OMM Kamelika waterproof Jacket; hat and lightweight gloves and Speedcross 3 GTX's on my feet. Whilst it wasn't too congested through Mugdock park I was slightly frustrated at a couple of trio's running side by side chatting away, WTF guys it's a race not a picnic in the frickin' park. I think my head wasn't in the right place, at mile 2 I was thinking "I could just chuck this".

Andy, Caroline and me looking like the twat in the hat

Since coming back from holiday on Crete 2 weeks ago, I'd carried a lingering doubt that a weeks all inclusive eating and drinking including a self-inflicted bought of ouzo poisoning was not the best preparation for a 53 mile race, and I convinced myself that all my aches and pains were more than just the usual taperitis. In reality there is no way I could bale uninjured this early I'd be too embarrassed, what would I say to people?
Man up and trot on, around Carbeth I decided to lose the jacket and hat as the day was warming up also I look like a twat when I wear any kind of headgear and you never know when a photographer might pop up somewhere.
In past years I've always tackled this first section very conservatively, this year my thinking was "this is the flattest most runnable section, so I might as well push on here", I went through Drymen in 1:44 as it turns out fully 10 minutes ahead of last year. No stopping at Drymen straight up the path onto the first bit of "proper" WHW and I adopt a run 200 paces walk 50 paces strategy on hills, slopes don't count as hills so they all have to be run! Or more precisely I count up to 8 in my head, 25 times, don't ask me why but this always seems easier than counting up to 200. I spoke to a couple of people but no more than a few words of advice about not hammering down Conic Hill as they'd pay for it later.
The weather by this time was truly glorious, probably the clearest views I've ever had from Conic and no wind, down into Balmaha and the welcome sight of Harrier Ian Anderson taking photos of the descending runners. A quick joke about how I was descending like a big fairy and it was into the forest, ironically despite my fairy-like technique Strava tells me that was my fastest ever descent into Balmaha.
My watch was showing around 2:55 for this first 19 miles, even on runs where I was stopping at Balmaha I've NEVER run here under 3 hours!
This race was going in one of two directions

1. I've got to Balmaha in under 3 hours, I'm going to have a great race
2. I've got to Balmaha in under 3 hours, I'm going to detonate somewhere further on

Shout out my number and my drop bag is handed to me, I grab a stranger from the crowd and instruct them to top up my electrolyte bottle and throw down the first of today's 4 rice puddings, stationary for just over 1 minute and I'm away again. I think I ran most of this next section on and off with Lorna McMillan for company, Lorna was talking of pulling out but thankfully didn't and wen't on to claim a spectacular 9:30:45 finish and 5th lady overall.
About a mile before Rowardennan, I felt a twinge of cramp so stopped to take on some rock salt (yes the dubious packets of white crystals in my drop bags were salt) and to empty my bladder so the last run into the CP was a solo effort.
This time it was Sean McMinn and Helen Lees  who very efficiently topped up both my bottles, whilst I gobbled Rice pud number 2, restocked my gels and hustled me onward, with a shout out that Andy B was only about a minute ahead of me.
Milngavie to Rowardennan 4 hours 19 minutes, hang on that's just about half the total race distance, thoughts of a possible sub 10 hour finish briefly hover before me, park that dangerous thinking Keith, just concentrate on beating last years time and remember the second half is the tough half.

Rowardennan - Inversnaid - Beinglas

Almost as soon as I left the CP I ran into Andy, whose recurring foot injury had kicked in, he was in a lot of pain and said he'd have stopped at the CP if he'd seen someone he knew with a car, sensibly he turned back before the first of the hills, reckoning it wasn't worth writing off the rest of his season, just to register a finish. A rare and genuinely sensible decision that so often we Ultra runners fail to make.
The long hills between Rowardennan and Beinglas are where you can lose a lot of time, having run them twice on training runs this year I know I can actually run most of them, but can I do it with 27 plus miles in my legs?
Well yes I can 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8.........1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8 so if I passed you on this section no I wasn't showing off or being rude I was concentrating on 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8 and boy did this bit pass quickly, soon I was onto the more trail like section on the last two miles before Rowardennan and I felt really strong. This bit is very similar in nature to the trails of Mabie forest so I think I just feel at home here, didn't even need to resort to 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8 on the uphills.
Another smooth and quick drop bag point, bottles topped up Rice pudding #3 wolfed down, quick rake round the table, grabbed a gel or two and on towards the dreaded technical section.
I need to get something off my chest, in my less than humble opinion this section is not "technical" its just sodding unrunable, its a rock scramble, its bouldering, in some bits its downright scary. Andy B had a near death experience there at a recent training weekend whilst I stood helpless behind swearing and gaping at his apparent imminent and inevitable demise, how he didn't lobotomize himself on a rock that day I do not know.
OK back to the plot.
As the day continued to warm up I was down to a t-shirt and dipping my buff in streams regularly to keep my head cool. With the climb up to Dario's post and the farewell to the loch side I reckon this was without doubt the best weather I'd ever experienced on the West Highland Way.
I was struggling to keep running on the uphills now, even 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8 was a challenge, I reckoned I'd pretty much nailed a PB, but my mantra switched to "any kind of run is faster than walking" not pretty but it worked. Into Beinglas in 7:24, surely the PB was assured, but I felt the sub 10 had slipped, could I run this last 12 ish miles in under 2 and a half hours?
This time it was Rachel MacRae who literally bullied me  through the checkpoint, "don't stop, walk with me", bottles refilled, rice number 4 and through, thanks Rachel it was just the treatment I needed at that point.

Beinglas - Tyndrum

Almost immediately after the CP there is a big climb back to 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8 and "any kind of a run is faster than walking", I was passed by Stuart Chalmers who (finished in 9:47) and was yo-yo ing with a group of 5 or so guys pretty much all the way through this section to the finish, I think we all finished within about a 4 minute spread eventually. Under the railway, under the road, one steep climb and its the flattish lead up to cow poo alley and the alley itself. Four weeks ago this was mid calf deep in cow sh*t, this time it was completely dry and solid. One last thigh burning climb after the big gate and I know its exactly 6 miles from the picnic bench, 8:43 on the watch. Anything under 2 hours will give me a pb but can I run 6 miles in a 75 minutes, including the roller coaster?
Is the suspense killing you yet?

Smiling before the roller coaster -photo courtesy of Conor Cromie

1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8 where I can on the uphills which isn't often, but it's the downhills on this bit that usually slow me up, but today I'm absolutely flowing down them. I make a conscious decision to relax and I'm actually properly running, not shuffling my morale take a huge upturn and my mile splits here are some of the best I've ever run, my max pace even hitting 5:40 on one bit (it's on Strava so it must be true).
I actually enjoyed the roller coaster.
Across the A82 without a stop, 9:14 on the watch barring disaster I've nailed the PB but can I run 3 miles in 45 minutes?
Note this is a question that only Ultra runners will fully understand. Any normal runner when faced with this question will be thinking "That's only a 5 km parkrun" of course I can, seldom will they have seen the shuffling, sobbing and broken wrecks of humanity that can emerge after 50 miles of running.
There is a slope on the track into Auchtertyre 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8, back under the A82, only 2 miles to go 9:27 on the watch, I think I can get sub 10, just keep moving "any kind of a run is faster than walking".
There are no more hills but I take it gingerly over the cattle grid, I'm not risking anything at this stage, one last right turn and it past the stone bench which is exactly 1 mile from the finish. I stub my foot on a protruding rock just like last year and almost take my first tumble of the day. All throughout the day walkers have unfailingly stepped aside without asking, and usually with a "well done" or similar comment, but here within sight of the finish I actually have to shout to get past. On to the track, I can hear the pipers, a wave and a thank-you to them and its round the corner to the finish, I'm going to give it the beans because not only is sub 10 in the bag, I might bag a 1 hour PB even if only ny a few seconds.

Finishing straight - photo courtesy of Ian Anderson

I'm aware of Ann and Choppy at the side of the course, but I'm focussed on the finish arch, for once I've got a finish photo where I'm running, both feet off the deck.
Through the arch, stop the watch................
9 hours 50 minutes and 17 seconds 
the magic sub ten hours and a 1 hour PB although I'm tired I'm not the broken man I usually am, although this photo may suggest otherwise.

I'm just resting -honest- photo courtesy of Ian Anderson

Medal round my neck, goodie back courtesy of David H and Julie and I take my time over soup and a roll, before heading out of the marquee, quickly change out of my soaking and salt stained t-shirt before I get chilled.
Caroline came home in 10:43:03 an incredible time considering she turned her ankle with 15 miles to go, spent an hour with Sean the race medic and ended up heading back to A & E in Dumfries to get it checked out.

I thought Johnny Fling and his team had excelled themselves last year, but this year was even better. This is an incredible value race £38 and you get medal, technical t-shirt, prosecco, a fling buff, free beer, free soup, free massage and a free ceilidh in the evening. Not to mention free photos which most other big races would charge for and free timing updates via Facebook.
The day would not be possible without the veritable army of volunteer marshalls, supporters, drivers, time keepers and all the hundred other tasks required. To each and every one of you I say a huge, heartfelt and unequivocal thank you.
A big thanks also to Ann who looked after us all in various states of disrepair at the finish and to Choppy who stepped in to drive Caroline back down to Dumfries, thanks big guy.
Since this post is already as long as a Peter Jackson movie, I'll put together a separate post on nutrition and lessons learned.
Well done to each and every finisher, commiserations to those who didn't make it to the finish, for whatever reason.

Next up The Cateran Trail Ultra in 3 weeks time, just need to recover from this one first, now then 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8

Cheers

Criffel Hill Race

I suppose I was still flushed with the smell of success the day after the D33 so when a chum suggested that Andy B and I take part in the local Criffel Hill race it seemed like a smashing idea.

Fast forward 7 days and I'm the Village of New Abbey with a gaggle of wraith-like hill runners signing up to tackle the 6 or so miles and 569 metres of ascent and descent.

I realised this wasn't going to be a walk in the park when one of my Lockerbie workmates Eddie, himself a seasoned, competent and quick (but still wraith-like) hill runner said "Oh Criffel Hill race, that's quite a tough one, I've always avoided it".

Having taken the precaution of introducing myself to the sweeper runner just in case, at precisely 1 pm, the air hooter failed to sound and the field of 50 was off.

One of the less muddy bits!

The first half mile is on a single track tarmac road which allows the field to thin out with a further half mile on good single track trail with a gradual runnable rise  before you hit the slopes of Knockendoch Hill proper. You're then faced with a brutal, thigh burning, lung bursting straight line assault of 350 metres vertical climb in 1 mile. To compound this pleasure the ground underfoot is a mixture of mud, tussock grass and more mud interspersed with protruding lumps of granite.

I'm not talking here about puddles of mud, this is premier league mud, up to mid calf deep and capable of swallowing unwary small children.

I knew I was quite well back in the field and although I passed a couple of runners I was in turn passed by two other runners, an older gent who looked like Gollum in shorts and a lady who looked completely unfazed at either slope or mud.

Criffel and Knockendoch  at 569 m and 443 m respectively are joined by a saddle about 1500 m long and irrespective of weather conditions on the ground it's always blowing a hoolie on the tops. I've climbed Criffel on a beautiful warm windless summer day and barely been able to stand upright with the wind on the top. True to form as I neared the summit of Knockendoch the wind picked up, the cloud came down, temperature plummeted and visibility dropped to 15-20 metres. Shouting out my race number to the Mountain Rescue guys huddled at the cairn I rapidly tried to transition my legs from climbing to running but somewhere in the last 20 minutes the running fairies seem to have swapped my finely tuned ultra legs for a pair of Stretch Armstrong rubber ones. Coupled with blinding sweat and cloud in my eyes, I was literally running blind and whilst the mud wasn't as bad on this section there were still deep patches to snare the inattentive runner.

Coming across the saddle and tackling the last climb to Criffel itself the faster returning runners appeared out of the mist, pretty much all charging downhill with the "I've switched of my brain and I'm not worried about falling" attitude that characterises the breed. I didn't feel I was too far behind the main pack but knew that gap would open up with my more cautious life preserving approach to throwing myself down a steep hill.

Andy 22nd place in 72:31 enjoying the mud

With visibility even poorer on Criffel the summit cairn suddenly appeared, check in with the Mountain Rescue guys and it's back on the return leg. In fact I'm chasing vague shapes through the cloud as although there a well defined path , poor visibility could easily send you off course. Quickly back over to Knockendoch shouting  an apology to DRC race organiser Ranjit Thomas who was running near me for the full range of Ainslie sound effects, puffs, grunts, curses and obscenities I was subjecting him to and the descending proper starts.

I'm afraid my self preservation instincts kick in at this point, I've a choice of a headlong reckless descent and damn the consequences or take it easy and avoid face planting a granite rock... I choose the latter and several pairs of 1970s style shorts pass me on the downhill.

On one particularly gloopy section my right leg sinks in to just below my knee, I use my momentum to keep moving forward but like a big muddy Cinderella I leave my Speedcross shoe behind, plugged deep in the mud. With no Prince Charming in sight I backtrack, plonk my butt on a rock and plunge my arm into the mire to retrieve the missing muddy glass slipper. I can't even budge the damn thing it's properly buried. After a minute of slimy tug of war, Mother Nature surrenders my shoe, I pull my laces extra tight and set off downhill again, by now I've lost sight of anyone in front, but equally I can't see anyone behind me. Leaving the mud and the steeper slope behind you're back onto dry runnable trail again, a quick photo and a shout out from Alan McKean and I trying to get my smashed descending legs back into running mode, with distinctly indifferent results.

Still smiling after the race

 On the tarmac I'm convinced I can hear someone behind me, in reality it's the extra noise my mud drenched shoes are making, sprint(ish) finish and I'm over the line in 81:44, 41st out of 51 runners.

49 minutes for the outward leg and 33 for the return, not quite last but not far off it, mud caked, knackered, sore and grinning like a Cheshire Cat. What a mad race, what a mad hobby!

I'm even singled out for a special prize "First guy to completely lose his shoe In the mud", but then everyone was a winner as there was enough beer for everyone who'd stayed for the prize giving to get a bottle.

Hill running is definitely a specialist discipline within the sport of running, without being big headed I'm pretty fit, good on trails and not too shabby (for my age) on tarmac, but on both my hill races this year I've been in the last 20% of the field.

Having said all that I'd definitely do the race again and it won't put me off doing other hill races, neither Andy or I could stop smiling afterwards, great fun but totally mad.

Cheers