What's it all about?

I started writing this blog back in August 2012, primarily as a way of recording my thoughts and experiences as I trained for the 2013 West Highland Way race. I found it quite cathartic to turn my random jumble of thoughts and experiences into words on paper, or screen for the more pedantic reader. Perhaps when my running days are done, I can look back and say “Oh, I remember that”. Or maybe some aspiring WHW runner will read my thoughts and be dazzled by my wisdom, wit and erudition.

I've never made or aspired to any claims of literary ability, only narrowly scraping a C pass in Higher English. I spent 5 years producing essays which mostly ended “…and then I woke up, it had all been a dream”, how my teachers must have dreaded reading and marking another badly written and grammatically bereft effort. If you want well written or inspirational blogs then I’d suggest Rhona; Amanda or Fiona’s superb efforts.

At university I wrote a 10,000 word Geography essay on the topic of fog. I managed to get slightly carried away. You’d be surprised how many different types of fog there are and how much you can actually write about them. I put a huge amount of effort and time into this essay, and convinced myself that my Magnum Opus, would surely be the best in my class and perhaps steer me towards one of the more minor scientific or literary awards.

Came the great day our Professor handed out the marked essays one by one, in no strict order but with a small narrative commentary on each effort “well done Miss Baxter, well researched if a trifle short”, “somewhat lacking in source references Mr Davis” etc. no such problems for Ainslie as I knew in those pre word processing days that I’d smashed well through 10,000 words and had more sources than a Glasgow drug dealer. As the number of essays to be returned dwindled to one, I actually convinced myself that my magnificent effort must be being held back to single me out for particular praise…..no seriously I really did think that.

Whilst his exact words escape me, the broad searing content never has. “Mr Ainslie was asked to produce a 10,000 word essay, he has in fact written over 13,000”, I’d missed or ignored the not so small print in the brief saying you’d be penalised for every 100 words over the 10,000. Oh dear, but never mind, the clarity and sheer in depth brilliance of the content would counter any minor quantitative issues, I thought I’d blown the Nobel, but the class prize was sill surely mine.

“Mr Ainslie work is split into 98 paragraphs, but he has cunningly only managed to use a total of 300 sentences. He has however used 248 semi colons and 147 colons” (I’m not claiming to remember exact numbers, but I suspect you’re getting the gist). Unfortunately I was getting the gist too and a creeping sensation that perhaps the class prize was slipping too.

The Professor went on relentlessly; I’d written an essay covering several different types of fog, completely failing to read the brief about choosing only one type of fog. Perhaps that’s why I’d found such an abundance of material. “Mr Ainslie has made 431 spelling mistakes”, oh shit, oh shit I’m now acutely aware of my own rising colour and the pitiless stares of my fellow undergraduates, all happy that some other poor sod is in the firing line, not them.

He didn't raise his voice, merely talked on relentlessly dismantling my efforts, with every sentence further settling my doom. Reaching his crescendo of humiliation he handed me back my essay, covered in red ink corrections and scrawl, yes he had actually counted all those spelling and grammar errors.

“Mr Ainslie has scored 7%”….yes you read that right, not 100%, not 77% just seven percent. I could have died, I would have paid money for the floor to open and swallow me such was the embarrassment I was feeling.

So what is the point of all the above?

I read recently that unless your blog has a purpose it will never be successful, for the first year I had a very definite purpose, namely the West Highland Way race, but what about now?

I certainly have an occasional problem with writing focus. As witnessed above I set out to examine and clarify why I blog and end up telling the world about my 2^nd year university humiliation.

I've re-read some of my race reports and they are often of the “I did this……then I did that…then I overtook the fat bloke in blue” variety. Not much interest to many people I suspect and sometimes straying over the line into the disliked “see how good I am” genre.

I often find it very difficult to write about something or more specifically to find something of interest to the wider world and I’m not talking about writers block here. I can have a brilliant training run round spectacular forests with great mates, but when it comes to committing to paper it’s basically “Went for a run, great company, lots of banter, felt good.. the End”, not exactly a page turner. 

Whilst there are excellent running blogs that go into great detail about routes, splits, paces etc. that’s not for me. 

I have thought about doing kit reviews, but since I’m a creature of habit I suspect I’d be less than objective. OMM kit is great, Garmin 910xt is the mutts nuts and Salomon Speedcross 3’s are brilliant, just buy them.

I’m forced to confront the gnawing truth that my blog may not actually have a purpose!

But wait a minute; I’m not seriously writing this to achieve literary stardom (I refer you to the fog essay) or wealth. I’m not expecting to have people stop me in the street and say “Oh you’re Keith Ainslie, I've read your blog”, although bizarrely this did actually happen to me in a restaurant toilet in Fort William.

I guess I've reached the conclusion that I actually don’t have a single purpose in blogging, It’s a diary for me; It might help fellow runners avoid some of the mistakes I've made; it might help promote races and places I enjoy, but I suppose I’m principally doing it because I enjoy it.

In conclusion I’m going to keep blogging even if fame and fortune continue to elude me.

Just in case you’re wondering about the fog essay? You will not be surprised to hear that my Geography studies ended in year two. Year three was spent on Topographic Science (map making and surveying) which consisted mostly of trailing around Kelvingrove Park with outdated surveying equipment or deciding which colour of pencil to use to colour in a map.

Now where are my coloured pencils when I need them?

Cheers

Devilla Forest 15 Km Trail Race

I've been told that my report on last years race could be interpreted as less than positive, so straight out the blocks I'll put on record THIS IS A GREAT RACE!

Thanks to a combination of great venue and route, seamless organisation, chip timing, lovely weather and a bottle of beer as a memento, I can't actually think of anything negative about the event..so full marks to Carnegie Harriers, go straight to the top of the class.

I had hoped by harping on to Dumfries Harriers that we might get a decent crowd up for the race, but I ended up as a team of one. Yes only one person sporting our distinctive "where's Wally" club colours.

The venue is the Scottish Police HQ at Tulliallan, central, easy to get to with bags of parking, huge hall for registration (no queues) and its own proper coffee shop for my pre-race Caramel Latte and proper showers to get cleaned up afterwards.

This is one of the growing number of races that seem to sell out extremely quickly, in most part because its a good race, but also the recurring and apparently increasingly common Facebook frenzy phenomenon.."if your not hanging over EntryCentral on the day it opens you wont get in".

Anyway, enough rambling as Burns said "To our tale...."

The race starts in front of Tulliallan Castle, with the first 400 metres on a wide tarmac road to allow the field of over 500 starters to thin out, before progressing into the forest itself. I'd made the mistake last year of starting too far back. So this year I positioned myself about 1/3rd of the way back, not too optimistic but minimizing the danger of being caught up with the racing snakes.

The early parts of the route are on wide trails rather than forest roads so they aren't quite wide enough to allow easy overtaking, I had the bad luck to get stuck behind a chap in a red top who couldn't make his mind up if he was running in the middle or right of the trail. I persevered with his zig-zag style until his failed attempt at a snot rocket narrowly missed me and I surged past him.

The route is mainly on well maintained forest roads apart from one narrow section around mile 2 and the Western loop around Peppermill Dam, so after passing Mr Snot overtaking did not present any further problems.

The route

My tactic was to focus on a particular runner up ahead until I passed them, then pick another target. I didn't have a particular time in mind, but was steadily passing other runners and was aware that all the miles alerts on my Garmin were nearer 7 minutes than 8. I was feeling pretty good and relaxed and indulged in a bit of gamesmanship by chatting to other runners and saying thanks to all the course marshals, in  my head if I pass someone who is gasping for breath on an uphill and make a nice cheery comment, they're unlikely to be passing me anytime soon, hey it is a race after all!

Where's Wally top

The very muddy section round Peppermill Dam (the larger of the two lakes on the map) was still frozen solid, so disappointingly avoided a mud fest. Back past the water station, where the route crosses itself above  and we're on the last leg. A quick skirt round Moor Loch and the route is downhill all the way to the finish, I say downhill, but with 430 ft of climb in total over 15 Km the route isn't especially hilly. There is a handy day-glow sign announcing 1 Km to go..pick up the pace, I can sense someone on my shoulder, I can hear his panting. A couple of leisurely greetings to spectators "thanks for coming out", "lovely day isn't it" and I can feel I'm pulling away from him. 
One last sharp left turn and its back onto the road and I really let go, no-one now close enough for me to pass, but I'm damned if anyone is going to pass me.
Over the line 1:08:28 109th place out of 506 finishers, average pace of 7:17 (by my Garmin), 20 seconds per mile quicker that last years shortened route, I'll take that thank-you very much. 

Before heading for a quick shower I chatted to Keziah (who'd got 4th lady) and Craig from Harmeny, who in addition to racing, were planning a 20 mile run to Linlithgow via the Kelpies and were both looking fresh.

I'm really happy with my run, I did 8 miles the day before on icy trails, I was faster than last year and I felt absolutely fine afterwards, so another successful marker passed on the route to the Malta marathon in 2 weeks. 

I know its not much of a race report, but you'd lose the will to live if I gave you the full blow by blow account. But hopefully still enough to give you a flavour of this event, you never know....if you're quick enough next year you might even get an entry.

Cheers

West Highland Way Training Weekend

This annual feature in the Scottish Ultra calender, is centered round the Oak Tree Inn in picturesque Balmaha. At its core is a 30 mile out and back training run from Balmaha to Inversnaid Hotel following the West Highland Way, although being an out and back run there were groups planning to run anything from 12 miles to the full 30.
This would be the 4th year that the Dumfries Harriers had attended this excellent training  and social weekend, and the 4th year that Andy, Ian G, Ian A and myself had shared our 4 bedded room.
We all enjoyed the usual excellent Oak Tree food and far too much drink on the Friday evening, accompanied by the usual schoolboy giggles and hilarity inevitable when 4 blokes share a room.
Whilst the numbers staying over on the Friday seemed lower than in previous years, the large crowd that gathered on Saturday for the run would have put a third division football club to shame.

Photo courtesy of Sandra McDougall

Following a really good period of running for me over November and December, I've been struggling with a roving back - bum - leg injury through January, being a middle aged male I've religiously adopted a moan like buggery - whilst not seeking any medical assistance whatsoever strategy.
I'd added to this lack of common sense approach by drinking 4 pints of Guinness on the Friday evening and being persuaded that a malt whisky night cap was a great idea too, so my plan for the day was three pronged

1. Try to go for the full 30 miles
2. Try to beat last years time
3. Try not to die in the process

After the initial climb over Craigie Fort I found myself running with Andy Johns, who I last saw when he completed the Lakeland 100 last July. He's dropping down to the Lakeland 50 "fun run" this year and is definitely a runner I would categorize as being at the pointy end of the field. We chatted for a mile or two, but I was struggling to match Andy's pace and as we left the beach at Sallochy I dropped off the back. Running solo through to Rowardennan it's fair to say I was not "feeling the love" for running and was beginning to have flashbacks to this run 2 years ago where I passed the day endlessly reciting Tam O' Shanter in my head on what proved to be a largely joyless solo run.
Leaving the car park at Rowardennan I saw long suffering training mate Andy Beattie up ahead and having caught up we then ran together for the rest of the day.
As Andy said "given that we train together at pretty much the same pace, it shouldn't be a surprise that we end up running together".

We reminisced about our first run on this route 4 years ago, when neither of us had run 30 miles before; we thought the 2 miles into the Inversnaid Hotel was outrageously technical (Oh how we laugh now); passing through 26.2 miles and (me) having to take a walk break and how we were all barely capable of walking, sitting or any form of motor activity afterwards.

As our watches beeped through 14 miles we started looking for the first of the returning runners and were pleasantly surprised that it was 14.5 miles before we saw the first of them. There we're probably only half a dozen people ahead of us, and whilst this day isn't a race, it's always nice to gauge yourself against your previous years performance.

We even got an ego boost as Andy Johns shouted out "you guys are flying" as we passed.

We paused only to refill our water bottles at Inversnaid and well ahead of last years time, we turned back South to Balmaha, thankful that the headwind we'd been running into, now became the runners friend...a tailwind.

On the long climbs before the drop back into Rowardennan I was inclined to drop into a walk, but Andy insisted on a run 100 paces, walk 50 paces strategy. Having by now lost the mental acuity to count to 100 in my head, I'm convinced some of Andy's 100's were very big 100's indeed, but it did the trick and we overtook a good number of people on these climbs. Speaking to them later in the bar, many people were kind enough to say we looked really strong as we ran uphill, I'm happy to confirm that looks can be deceiving.

In truth I think we actually make pretty well matched training partners, I tend to lead on the first half pushing the pace, and Andy kicks in on the back half when my natural inclination is to ease off.

The return from Rowardennan was largely uneventful, apart from a small walk break when I felt the approach of cramp, shoveling down a couple of pinches of salt to hold it at bay. With Andy taking the lead and with conversation becoming sparser with every mile covered, my confidence was growing that at minimum, I'd better last years 5:29:55 time.

Once you're past the strength sapping shingle beach you really are on the last leg and it was heads down with the knowledge that there was only the sharp climb up Craigie to come, where we met the lovely Rhona (who writes the fabulous Redwinerunner blog). Both she and Andy were descending with aplomb, while I clomped down with all the grace of an epileptic hippo.

The view from Craigie fort

We managed to put on a half decent sprint back to the Oak Tree Inn to complete the 30 miles in 5:10:11, nearly 20 minutes better than last year and only about 10 minutes behind the guys at the front of the field, yes I know its not a race...don't nag!

Straight into the village shop for my favored recovery drink of a cold pint of milk and then off for a quick shower before I got too cold followed by hitting the Oak Tree bar for three back to back pints of diet Coke and a bowl of warming soup.

All in all a great weekend away for the Dumfries crowd, Ian G and Neil had headed of for a 60 mile cycle, Caroline beat her time from last year, Lesley had enjoyed her first weekend in the Ultra company (and has now signed up for The Devil & Tiree Ultras) Choppy had logged his longest run for ages and Susan, Dawn and Marion were there usual sparkling selves, as well as being able to enjoy the company of all the "well kent faces" of the Scottish Ultra scene.

I'm happy to report that I hardly felt my roving injury during the run or even during this weeks 5 subsequent runs, okay it still kicks in when I'm trying to shift my butt of the couch but I'm happy it seems to be on the mend, whatever it was. 

Next on the schedule is the Devilla 15 Km trail race on Sunday 8th February, and two weeks after that it's the Malta Marathon bring it on.

Cheers

Out of my comfort zone - Feel the Burns Hill race

I could tell this race was a proper hill race as soon as I drove into the car park at Selkirk rugby club!
The distinctive hill runner body shape stands out, wiry, lean and with huge calf muscles add in the 1970's style running shorts and a complete absence of flashy trainers and you get the idea. I felt like a hippo at a ballet dancing contest!

Fell the Burns Hill race is one of the longer early season hill races, covering just over 13 miles with 3000 ft of ascent and descent.

A colleague at work, who is one of the aforementioned proper hill runners had suggested this would be an ideal race to lose my hill running virginity on.
I run loads of trail miles with lots of climbs so this should be right up my street, right?
3000 feet in 13 miles, not a lot different from the 2000 feet on my regular Mabie and Ae forest runs, right?

Wrong, wrong, wrong

At the risk of sounding big headed I think I'm pretty fit, okay I know I'm not at the sharp end of the field, but I'm no slouch, in most races I'm usually in the top 20% but on this race I didn't even make the top half!

The Start

Donning my usual Ultra runner kit comprising multiple clothing layers, hat, gloves and everything in my back pack bar the kitchen sink, I felt increasingly out of place as hill whippets all around me emerged in shorts and vests, after all there was only snow on the hills, Northerly winds and several big hills, why wouldn't you wear a vest?

The start line was in the middle of a field...literally and with little formality we were off up a slippy muddy grass slope. The first 2 miles or so was on forest roads and gave the field of around 200 an opportunity to thin out before the hills proper began.

This first stretch had a deceptive 300 feet of climb, which probably explains why by the time we hit the first "proper" hill, I had gasped to a fellow runner that "I'm blowing out my hoop" and we're only 2 miles in!

The first of three defined hills to be scaled was Peat Law which gave another 650 feet of climbing, before joining the well defined path of The Southern Upland Way following the ridge line to Three Brethren and the second hill at Brown Knowe.

The snow on the ridge was probably nearer 5 inches deep and with a biting wind from the North, I don't think I've ever felt so cold during a race, dropping down to the turn around point it was a welcome relief to gain the lee of the hill and respite from the arctic wind.

Skinny people beating me downhill

There followed a good downhill section where even though I managed consecutive 7:35 and 7:34 minute miles I was left feeling like a slouch as the fearless hill runners careered downhill with all the abandon of a fat guy heading for the buffet table.


Skirting round the former Broadmeadows youth hostel, the sting in the tail of this race loomed large, the appropriately named Failshields Hill with around 750 feet of climb in just under 1 mile, it may not sound much but it felt like i was going up a near vertical slope and definitely feeling the burn by this point.

More skinny people

Whilst I was genuinely racing I was in reality more concerned with not taking a tumble so was happy to push myself but equally unconcerned about being overtaken. To put the downhill speed of some of these folk in perspective, I was side by side with a chap at the top of the hill pictured to the left, he hit the water fully 80 metres ahead of me.

Through the water and it was back onto the metaled road and around 1.5 miles to the finish, now I was racing!
Throwing caution to the wind I logged a 7:12 min/mile for the last full mile and for the final sprint/slide back across the finish field managed a brief stint at 5:02 min/mile pace whilst my legs slid around like Bambi on ice.
Over the line in 2:17:53 117th out of 194 finishers with 3015 feet of climb and descent in 13.1 miles. A mere 43 minutes slower than my half marathon PB and a very tough day out.

Walking on water

Certainly a baptism of fire for me and a demonstration of what a very different type of fitness is needed for hill racing.

Back to Selkirk Rugby club for a welcome hot shower and a substantial plate of haggis, neeps and tatties, no messing with medals, mementos or t-shirts for the hill whippets, but still great value.

Yes, it was certainly out my comfort zone but it wouldn't put me off either trying this race again or even having a bash at another hill race.

Cheers



NB Photo credits all go to Fiona who was marshaling just after the burn crossing (sorry I didn't get your surname).

What's on the menu for 2015?

Whilst my enthusiasm for running grew through 2014, my enthusiasm for blogging dwindled in equal measure. So whilst I don't generally bother with New Year resolutions, I've decided to endeavor to be a bit less erratic with my posts in 2015.

I suppose the key decision for this year was NOT to enter the West Highland Way race. Although I wouldn't completely rule out going for another goblet at some point in the future. There are a number of reasons for this:-

• I don't feel I can make the wholehearted commitment to the training required without making unacceptable sacrifices to both family and work
• If I can't commit wholeheartedly to it, I'm certainly not going to commit to a race of that magnitude halfheartedly
• I seem to be able to run 50-ish mile ultras without serious damage to my body
• I'm selfish, the injuries I picked up during the WHW in 2013 kept me away from running for 2 months and I don't want a repeat
• I'm still in discomfort from the foot injury I picked up and a little part of me is scared that I add to or aggravate it and kybosh my running career

Bruised, black, damaged and swollen feet Post WHW race

Having ruled out the WHW race, I've lined up a reasonable list of races for 2015

January

Feel the Burns hill race (13 miles)  - my first bash at a proper hill race

February

Devilla Forest 15K trail race

Malta Marathon

March

D33 Ultra

April

Highland Fling

May

Cateran Trail Ultra - my first go at this one

Edinburgh Marathon  - not wholly decided about this one yet

June

Mabie Forest 10K Trail Race - our club trail race

Not racing but supporting Caroline on the WHW race

July

Lakeland 50  - despite spending most of last year's race saying I'd never do it again, I'll be back for a second attempt

September

Tiree Ultra Marathon - Dumfries Harriers are heading here en mass this year instead of the usual Coll half Marathon trip

Dumfries Half Marathon

December

Glasgow Santa Dash

Marcothon 2014, completed

I'd really like to have a go at the Speyside Way Ultra in August, never having run this one plus I think the medal looks really nice, how shallow am I?

I'm also tempted to try some 10K and half marathons as long as they fit in the training schedule. I put in a lot of miles in November and December and my average pace on my training runs is not far off my PB paces, so there might be some room for improvement there.

Having listed all the above, I'm actually taking a few days off running having picked up a roving injury on my right glute, hip and upper thigh during the Marcothon.

Happy running

Cheers

Running for Fun - Glasgow Santa Dash 2014

I've just discovered the joy of taking part in a race purely for fun.

No pressure of times, position, paces or PB's, no thoughts of what did I run this in last time, no thoughts of saving myself for the big sprint finish, just starting, finishing and enjoying the bit in between.
I've  always liked the idea of taking part in a BIG Santa dash event, you know the kind of thing where everyone wears a Santa suit, dresses like Rudolf or the world's fattest least attractive Christmas fairy.

I'd tentatively suggested we could make it a Harriers away day but was underwhelmed by the response, so ultimately it ended up an Ainslie only trip, well daughter, father and 5500 other people dressed as Santa.

I was on a three line whip, to run with daughter Sarah and not get carried away and go haring off on my own from the start. There was something very surreal about queuing among a sea of red and white, mostly wearing the "one size fits nobody" suits included in your £15 entry fee. There was a great mix of young, old, families, groups and the (very) occasional serious runner in Lycra, looking for once, quite out of place on the start line of a race.
There was a non-stop pre-race commentary, by some bloke from local radio who may or may not have been famous, "give us a cheer if you're from Edinburgh"....Greeted with silence and a mass warm-up by Elaine or Lorraine, who almost certainly hadn't just flown in specially from Los Angeles for the warm up routine. all academic as no one could see her, so any careful choreography soon disappeared as we all just bounced up and down enthusiastically. Not so much a warm up as a stay warm to combat the occasional sleety flurry.

Almost bang on 9:30 a quick count down and we were off! Or rather so were lots of beards, belts, hats and the occasional part of red breeks as well as thousands of runners.

I've has experience of the joys of running in a £1.99 Santa suit before so had prudently brought string to ensure our trousers stayed up and our modesty remained intact!
The event starts in George Square and heads west  up St Vincent Street, the sight looking back down to the start was awesome, the road was simply a sea of red and white all the way back down, my photo doesn't do it justice.
The route continues on crossing over the M8 before turning left before the SECC, you head towards the iconic Finnieston crane, before turning back onto the Broomielaw. At this point Sarah pointed out 3 Santa's who had stopped and rewarded themselves with a mid race MacDonald s, now there's a racing novelty!

There wasn't a huge amount of support on the course, but I suppose that's the inevitable compromise if you're going to close off great chunks of main roads in central Glasgow, you've got to do it early in the morning before too many people are up and about. Having said that you don't need support from the roadside when thousands around you are running in Santa suits in various states of soggy disintegration. The route then turns North just before the Central Station taking you under the famous Heilanmans umbrella before a penultimate turn onto Buchanan Street, with the massed ranks dodging early morning shoppers in that most famous of shopping streets, a final right turn back onto St Vincent Street and back through the finish arch on George Square. Although my Garmin had duly recorded the 3.1 miles, Sarah and I had spent pretty much the whole time blathering away not caring how long it took us. Not a timing clock in sight we crossed the line half an hour(ish) after we started and collected our most fabulous Santa themed medal, a nice quality piece of race bling.

What a great experience, I'm sure there were a few speed demons charging off the front, but this was definitely an event mostly about participation and a fantastic atmosphere from start to finish, and certainly one I'd recommend.

I have a sneaking suspicion that our own Dumfries Harriers Santa run with 20 participants, running around Dumfries in the dark, might not be quite the same experience.

Ho Ho Ho

Berlin Marathon 2014

Although I'd built a long weekend in Berlin around the race, you'll be glad to hear I'm not going to bore you with tales of my tourist efforts I'm going to stick to the race related information just in case you're tempted to enter Berlin yourself. 

Oh who am I kidding, its a brilliant race, don't fanny around just enter it, you'll love it.

The marathon expo is held in the old aircraft hangers of the now unused Templehof airport. I had to exercise uncharacteristic financial restraint to restrict my purchases to one compression top, admittedly I'd pre-paid for both the finishers t-shirt  (cotton, dark blue) and the event t-shirt (technical, yukky grey colour). I think I described the expo at the time at pure running porn, you could honestly spend a fortune and although it was very busy, number and chip collection was very quick with no queues.

I was pretty tired from some intensive travelling and work events the preceding week so an early night on Friday was followed with some light sight seeing on Saturday and an even earlier night, with 2 good nights sleep banked I set my alarm for 6:30 on race day.

My hotel on Striesmannstrasse was about a 25 minute walk to the start area and although it was chilly at 7am, the clear blue sky heralded what proved to be a lovely warm day.

Fannying around mid-race

With every step closer to the start the number of runners converging on the Reichstag grew, with around 35,000 registered runners this is a BIG city marathon. The organisation and sign posting is very good and I quickly found my bag drop and joined a queue for my pre race poo. There was a bank of 12 or so portaloos, and having inevitably picked the slowest moving queue, a mere 30 minutes later I reached the front, having overcome the nauseating stench to get in, I turned round to discover..............yes no bog roll, after 30 minutes, fume fume! Contenting myself with a pee and a firm instruction to my colon to learn to suck I headed for my start pen. Pen E was probably around 150 meters from the start gantry, but it still took around 3 minutes to cross the timing mats.

I'd decided to pace myself at around 7:45 - 7:55 minute miles, which if everything went well would put me close to my marathon PB. I felt this was optimistically realistic given the last 2 months training mileage has been pretty low and almost devoid of road miles. I'd like to moan that the first two miles were ridiculously congested and full of slower runners who held me up, but i can't. Yes it was fairly congested but I managed to hold my target pace relatively well without too much dodging round other runners and well....what do you expect if you run a marathon with 35,000 other runners?

I can't actually give much of a mile by mile breakdown, because pretty much the entire route is billiard table flat along identikit similar wide Berlin boulevards, with support varying from good to thunderous, in fact I cant actually recall any sections that had no support at all.

There were ample water stations, all on the right hand side (water in cups) and after the first couple where runners were cutting wildly across the road, I'd figured to position myself left or right well in advance of the station.

Despite trying to ignore my bladder for the first half, by mile 15 I'd decided I really did need to pee, spotting 5 portaloos on the left I veered across only to find 3 of them occupied and the other two padlocked shut, quickly deciding I wasn't waiting I rejoined the stream (no pun intended), by mile 17 I could ignore it no more, with no loos in sight I'm afraid I resorted to an alfresco wee on the central reservation, glad I did, but it still cost me around 45 seconds.

Thereafter it was all pretty uneventful, every time I saw a camera I'd execute a flawless Johnny Fling jump, and on the big wide corners I'd be milking the crowd to make a bit more noise. Because I'd not gone off too quickly I was able to maintain my target pace and was feeling as comfortable as one can feel when trying to run 26.2 miles. Running through 20 miles I still felt good, wobbled slightly at 22 and 23 miles, my only miles (other than pee mile) which were over 8 minutes, gave myself a talking to and sped up a bit. Running back through Potsdammer Platz I reckoned there  was about 2.5 miles to go and sub 3:30 was borderline, so I tried a bit harder, dodging round a guy at mile 25 who was being stretchered away by medics, I made the last two turns onto the famous Unter Dem Lindem. Under the Brandenburg gate, quick check of the watch, Oh this is going to be close so turn on the burners across the line in 3:29:21 only 1 hour and 26 minutes slower than Dennis Kimetto, although I did run 26.5 miles rather than his 26.2!

Post Race pint & bling

You may have just run a marathon, but there is no stopping allowed with marshals keeping you moving through the finish funnels, collect your medal, right turn to grab some water, keep moving, grab a plastic sheet, keep moving, grab a goody bag, keep moving all the way back to the baggage area, bag in hand I was at last able to slump on the grass.

Grabbing and downing 2 pints of the complimentary non alcoholic lager (actually tastes quite nice) and a change of top I headed back to my hotel for a shower and a full change of clothes.

Iconic Finish

Duly changed and with such lovely weather in hand i headed back to the Brandenburg gate to see the later finishers from 5 - 6 hours 15, the atmosphere was great as was the support, and as the number of runners thinned right down towards the 6:15 cut off, the final 2 finishers walked hand in hand through the gate, followed by the sweeper bus. As soon as they were through the timing mats were switched off and the finish straight taped off, there were a few beleaguered souls came through after this, I suspect they don't get a time or a medal.

There was a marquee where you could get a race certificate with all you splits and another where for a mere 10 euros you could get your name and race time engraved on your medal, again pretty much no queue.

Relaxing post race

All in all a fabulous race experience, one I'd thoroughly recommend I've already put my name in the hat for next year, fingers crossed.