Karinsmiles

Went the day well?

I have no idea how other people get their reports up so quickly. For me it takes a long time to write, edit, revise, illustrate, re-write and a fair bit of angst deciding whether it says what I want. So I thought I might post something like this:

But that doesn’t come close to doing justice to the journey, so it’s an epic tail even after the edits.

Start
The station car park at Milngavie was buzzing. Loads of WHW luminaries walking around and a tenseness and excitement in the air – and it had stopped raining. I tried to stay calm and conserve energy by sitting quietly in the car but when 12:30 came and Sean gave his briefing it was impossible not to feel part of something huge. I reminded myself one last time that I had done the work and I did deserve to be there and then we were moving through the underpass and up the steps (though I don’t do steps!).

The torches snaking ahead began to string out as we came out of the woods and as I passed Craigallian Loch I stopped to look at the skeins of mist hanging over the water in the pre-dawn light. The rest of the journey to Drymen passed quite quickly; I laughed out loud when I was buzzed by bats coming down the road to the little bridge and I think I found the worst possible line through the muddy field so my new silver special-K gaiters got muddy (Brenda made them, one of them has a K for karinsmiles, the other also has a discreet F and G).

As we went up through the forest Karen Robertson caught up with me but we only managed to share a few words because I was hunting for a place off the path with a bit of cover. I was starting to feel a bit wabbit at this point and I’ve found that somewhere between 15 and 20 miles seems to be a low point in every run I do. It rattled me in a couple of races because it seemed too early to be feeling tired, but now I accept that it’s no indicator of how I’ll feel at 30, 40 or 50 miles.

Balmaha

The midges were out at Balmaha where Ian had a friendly word for everyone coming down into the car park and I took a longer stop to re-fuel and re-stock my pack. I don’t think I waited as long as I planned, but in fact I never timed any of my stops so I have no idea whether I stopped for 5 minutes or 20.

I met Ray McCurdy on the path up to Craigie Fort and we managed to get confused about the path back down (I would blame his influence but if you’ve read any of my other posts you’ll know navigation isn’t my strong point). Not far before Rowardennan I met the legendary Jim Drummond and we passed a bit of time in WHW stories, then he completely freaked me out talking about an 8am cutoff. I was almost certain there was no cutoff at Rowardennan but I stepped up a gear all the same, just in case. I gave Bill, Brenda and Elli big hugs because it would be some time before I would see them again.

It was beginning to look like it might be a nice day, though I guess you don’t get rainbows without rain

I enjoyed most of the next 23 miles of the support-free zone, especially meeting Fiona Rennie on the forest track from Rowardennan. Running behind Fiona was like being in a masterclass, watching her switch seamlessly from running to walking and back again over the more technical terrain. I felt good just spending some time with her, her positivity is infectious. I traded places with Susan Donnelly and Rob Apple quite a few times along this stretch as Susan stopped to take photos of the full torrents falling beside the path (just trickles of water a few weeks before) and they never failed to give a couple of words of encouragement in passing.

Bein Glas
I caught up with Caroline Gibson not far before Dario’s post and it was clear she was digging in a bit with pain in her hips and knees. I hoped it was just a bad patch and the smiley faces at Bein Glas would give her a lift but it was more serious than that and sadly she pulled out there. Mags Turnbull was lovely, offering smiles, advice, good humour and tape for my toes already bruised and battered. And here I picked up the second of the motivational notes Brenda had put in my drop bags. They were brilliant, I carried them the rest of the way and I’m keeping them (Bill thought they were scrap paper when we came back but I managed to retrieve them from the bin).

She also put this on the outside of my bags, as much to give the marshalls a laugh as me (thanks to Lee MacLean for the photo):

I thought I was still feeling quite strong to Crianlarich but I must have been slowing down. I met Ray again at Derrydarroch and we chatted away. Ray is incredible. He does all these races with minimum technical kit – Ron Hill tracksters, plastic ponchos, carrier bags and his answer to restoring muddy socks is to buy 3 for £1 so you can throw them away if they’re wrecked (Sport socks, er yar sport socks, 2 forra pound). He’s still talking about going back to shorter races next year after he completes his 100th ultra. It will be a real loss to the ultra community if he does.

Auchtertyre
I moved ahead as we got to Bogle Glen and here I had a bit of a crisis. I suddenly realised that I was going to be much closer to the 4pm cutoff at Auchtertyre than I intended and Bill had planned to meet me on the path and he wasn’t there. I couldn’t afford to stop so I tried to call Brenda on the run but Crianlarich is a black hole for mobile reception. Eventually I managed to get through to her voicemail and leave a message but Brenda and Bill were having a crisis of their own. I sent a text from Bein Glas so they would know when I left, but it didn’t get through until after 3pm, they were worrying that I didn’t have a hope of making the cutoff and weren’t sure whether to sit tight and wait or try and find me. I meanwhile had ramped up the pace, unsure of how far I had to go, and that’s why I looked a bit stressed as I got into Auchtertyre at 10 to 4.

I shed my soggy, muddy Cascadias that had been shredding my toes for the last 20 miles and changed into the slipper-like comfort of my Lunarglides. Unfortunately my toes had swollen up enough to make even the ‘glides nip so I had to resort to my well-worn Asics road shoes. Thank goodness I brought them, in fact they were only thrown in as a last resort. It was a short and easy run to Tyndrum, where I warned Bill I was going to want company across Rannoch Moor, and then I was off again to Bridge of Orchy. I didn’t see anyone else on this section until almost at the station but I knew someone passed through Auch not far ahead of me because the dogs set up a frenzied barking. They must have had a fun day; they probably had sore throats by the time I got there.

Bridge of Orchy
I put some more clothes on at Bridge of Orchy and I thought I might have overdone it but the Lord of the Bridge reckoned I would be glad of it before I got off the moor. I ended up with tights over my shorts, waterproof trousers, a thermal long-sleeved top, hat, buff, gloves and my heavier jacket. I changed socks yet again – 6 pairs had seemed overkill when I packed them – and we climbed up the hill. At the first flat/downhill bit, I broke into the most inefficient, ungainly jog (much as I’d been doing since Tyndrum) and Bill was immediately 10 yards in front of me. He fell back to try and match my pace and after a few steps he changed to a brisk walk, which was still faster than me. That decided it. Power walking was definitely faster and it felt stronger and more like I was making good progress.

Murdo was out on the hill with a huge saltire and we stopped to chat for a few moments. This is what makes this race different – the people who do incredible things to make it happen for what’s quite a small number of runners. Marshalls, committee, supporters – all losing sleep, being eaten alive by midges,worrying about the runners, waiting and watching forever in all sorts of weather. And all with a smile You don’t get that at Edinburgh Marathon!

Brenda had company at Victoria Bridge and we stopped to watch them for a minute. It’s a waste to be out in these surroundings and stare at the ground.

I felt a little bit guilty because Bill had expected to be running, albeit slowly, and I had hoped I wouldn’t need him before the ski centre, but I wanted his company across the moor in the rain, so he was now committed to doing 37 miles with me. However it was his first trip across the moor and foul weather or not, it is spectacular. Sean must have run up and down from the white corries countless times checking on the last of his charges and he stopped to offer a few words of encouragement each time. We reached the ski centre as the last of the light went and I prepared myself mentally for going out again in the dark.

Altnafeadh
Karen and George came into the ski centre while we were there. I thought we were now right at the back and I expected them to catch us up before Altnafeadh but we were still on our own. I don’t much enjoy the section from Kingshouse to the Devil’s Staircase in daylight but it was OK in the dark, other than that I thought we were being haunted by a very slow moving car off to the left and I only realised it was a bridge on the A82 when I stoppped and stared at it.

The climb and then the descent felt a long slog. There were three or four pairs moving at a similar speed but stopping to eat at different times so we kept seeing the same people. As the day started to break we could see a big bank of cloud over Blackwater reservoir and the lights down below in Kinlochleven. I’ve done this bit often enough to know it’s still a long way away but it was re-assuring all the same. Finally, onto the landrover track and a yomp down to Kinlochleven where the amazing Julie was waiting. Julie’s blog is a fantastic read – enthusiastic and entertaining and I always finish it with a smile on my face. I still can’t quite comprehend why people give up their weekend (including their sleep) to support this race in the way they do but I’m very grateful that they do.

Kinlochleven
I was tired when I got to the checkpoint (really? after almost 80 miles and two nights without sleep?) and I found it a safe haven that was particularly difficult to leave. When I went inside for a comfy seat to change my socks I found Lesley waiting for a lift and Dr Chris came over for a chat, so I think I stayed there longer than I intended. To the two guys who I mis-directed, thinking we were on the main road, I’m truly sorry for the extra quarter mile you did, but asking a runner probably wasn’t a good move.

The ascent was s-l-o-w, but when we came out onto the Lairig Mor the sun was illuminating broad stripes across the hills on the other side of the loch and it was beautiful. When I stopped, experiencing weird visual aberrations and feeling a bit sick, Bill asked how long ago I had had real food and I think I snapped back at him. But sugar was the answer and both problems (all three if you count being crabbit) went away as soon as I had something to eat. Why is it that your brain conspires against you and you can’t recognise the symptoms of low blood sugar in yourself?

The Wilderness Response Teams out on the Lairig Mor broke it up into manageable chunks and the guys were still really cheery despite having no sleep themselves. Bill was calling the track the ‘yellow brick road’ and that is what it looked like with the early sun on it, and the Emerald City waited ahead in the form of the Leisure Centre in Fort William.

Lundavra
The bonfire was well down at Lundavra but Brenda was waiting there, and she’d managed to grab an hour’s sleep since Kinlochleven so she was looking quite fresh. We didn’t stop long because now I just wanted to get to the finish and for the first time since the lochside I took my jacket off. I was calculating and re-calculating what my likely finish time would be, and keeping up as brisk a walk as I could. At the top of the forest, some wonderful person had a flask of hot sweet black tea and nothing has ever tasted so good.

We yomped down the track, just trying to maintain the pace, and passing two guys on the way, so when we met Brenda and Elli at Braveheart Car Park, I barely stopped for a hug because I didn’t want to be passed again. As everyone knows, the last bit is the longest stretch of road ever. Bill ran ahead to get photos and then finally there was the Leisure Centre, a bit of a zig zag through the cars and it was done. The sun was shining, friends came over to congatulate, I got a huge bear hug from Donald (despite his horribly swollen shin) and kisses from Elli.

Yes the day, and the night, and the next day, went well.

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