Petestack Blog

So we might have had some sustained sunshine through June but, predictably when you’re a school teacher and don’t get on holiday till July, it’s been raining pretty well ever since and windy enough with it at times to make proper hill running a seriously unpleasant prospect (on which note, kudos to the 60+ runners who turned up for the Half Ben on Sunday when I couldn’t even persuade myself to open the door!). But at least I’ve been getting some things done about the house, spending much of the time between Saturday’s soggy cycle to the Dam and today’s run tidying up the bombsite that’s stayed largely untouched through weeks (nay, months!) of WHW Race training and summer term business…

Now, Sunday was fair enough as a write-off and I pretty well had to wait in Monday for the delivery that didn’t come till today (horrible evening, too!). So, after my (strange but true) ‘buy one get one free’ colour laser printers arrived mid-afternoon today, I was desperate to get out. But a quick scoot at the MWIS forecast (predicting deterioration to widespread rain and 70mph gusts this evening, with worse to come tomorrow) suggested that a big hill run in the Mamores might not be the optimum choice when a quick blast over the Devil’s Staircase to Altnafeadh and back should get me home before the worst of it. So off I set, running (as usual these days) the whole way over the hill and back apart from stopping along Wade’s Road for a quick chat to Chris ‘haven’t you had enough?’ Ellis, to whom I then confessed to planning the Ramsay’s attempt. And it was while I was out today, enjoying this section of the WHW that many runners seem to hate but I love to run more than any other, that I had (thinking on my feet as usual) this interesting idea about said Ramsay’s attempt… which is, why not take the original anti-clockwise direction that’s so aesthetically pleasing if slightly tougher (?), start in the evening (say 8pm) and do the Mamores (the part I know best) by night to leave daylight for the rest? So let’s just look at what that might do for me…

• Get the inevitable night hours out of the way first on the ridge where I’ve done every peak at last five times (including three complete traverses) and most a great deal more.
• Give me a choice of Friday or Saturday night starts.
• Let me run the rest of the round (some bits of which I’ve only done once or twice before) in daylight.
• Leave me a descent (from Ben Nevis) I’ve done many times in the dark if falling behind the qualifying 24 hours but still wanting to ‘finish’.

Of course other factors might yet change things. Like deciding to start midday Saturday and do the eastern sector by night as previously mooted. Or finding out that it’s impossible for anyone to get the train in to Corrour (haven’t checked yet) to meet me if I get there too early, or Friday night’s too soon for any of my pacers. Or whatever. But I’m liking the concept at the moment.

Oh yes, and it rained again this afternoon. And blew. So I was glad I was only out for a couple of hours, with the wind on my tail once I’d turned for home!

So let’s get one thing straight right at the start of this post… we’re talking about an absolutely elite hill-running challenge in Ramsay’s Round, and one that’s maybe beyond me even at the top of my game. It’s certainly something I’d regarded firmly as the preserve of altogether better runners before reading a few years ago of Richard Askwith’s long battle with the Bob Graham in Feet in the Clouds. But that got me thinking that maybe these things are just about possible for the more average of us (NB Richard finished immediately behind me in my first Ben Nevis Race) and, despite Ramsay’s generally being regarded as the harder challenge, concluding that perhaps I could do it if he could!

Now, in case you’re wondering why I’m talking about it here, it’s because I’ve been guilty of some speculation in the run-up to this year’s West Highland Way Race that I may never have a better chance at it (see all those months of rough hill and trail miles in the bank?) if I can arrange a swift recovery and some more good training for a mid/late July attempt. But of course it’s not as simple as that, so let’s look at some of the factors that might influence my chances either way…

For a start, I’d need to maintain something like the pace that took me briskly over the Mamores on my 2005 Tranter’s Round without the later loss of time over the Grey Corries (attributable to night running with an inadequate headtorch), descending from Ben Nevis (for which we can blame the tortuous descent to Achriabhach that forms no part of Ramsay’s Round) or, perhaps most significantly, just general, cumulative fatigue. To put all of that another way, an 18 hour Tranter’s is no way good enough for Ramsay’s and you’d really need to be looking at no worse than the 16 hour round I should have done as a marker for the bigger challenge. But then again, my 2005 Tranter’s came just 20 months or so after saying goodbye to my overweight thirties and before I’d run two decent West Highland Way Races, a good Cateran Trail and (my first really big distance) a quadruple Lairig Mor.

To continue balancing negatives against positives, I’m well aware that the great sextuple Ramsay’s completion of 25 June 2005 (in times ranging from 23:30 to 23:58) includes Mick James (who I’m not sure I’ve ever raced anywhere but has a significantly quicker WHW time), Olly Stephenson and Jamie Thin (both significantly quicker in any normal hill race but with slower WHW times than either of mine). So make of that what you will… to me it means I’m maybe out of my depth and maybe not! And, to keep musing in a similar vein, hardly any of our good Lochaber hill runners have done it (or even tried it to my knowledge), but it’s probably also true that equally few have done the big ultra trail races that I’ve done. So who knows?

To look on the bright side for a moment, covering c.60 miles with 28,500 ft of ascent (it’s always the ascent that tells in the end) in 24 hours surely requires good pace judgement rather than outright speed and I’m supposed to be good at that (or was before this year’s WHW!). So let’s take 18 hours to triple this year’s greater traverse of Cruachan (with its similar severity of terrain), give myself the remaining 6 hours to let the pace slow and consider whether it sounds possible?

To conclude the rationalisation on a fairly positive note, I’ve done all the hills before (most of them multiple times), know the route from Luibeilt to Corrour well and would only really be needing to recce the optimum route over Beinn na Lap and its neighbours round the north of Loch Treig to the Easains (likely to be done at night with the long eastern section being the most obvious place to be during the hours of darkness) to be sure of where I’m going. But then I’d still be needing that swift recovery from the WHW (looking reasonably likely after surviving a premature 2.9 mile jog last night and easier 4.6 mile walk up to the Penstock and back tonight) and some help from running friends to provide the pacing, support points and backup now regarded as both legitimate and highly desirable for this particular challenge.

So what to do, and how soon to start actively seeking assistance when I might just be wasting everyone’s time if I’m not fit to go? Anyone want to consider the case for and against before trying to talk me into or out of it? :-/

The new WHW pics below are from Angus…

Some new experiences in WHWR 2010 (not least being overtaken by others late on when no-one’s previously threatened my sense of closing-stage control in my limited ultra career to date), with so much to ponder that all I’m trying to do by blogging it here is to record a series of ‘snapshots’ from along the way. So here we go, more or less in order but neither starting at the start nor attempting to tell the whole story…

• Conic Hill (where I caught John Kynaston and enjoyed a good chat) climbed at a good clip (though emphatically not the mad dash of three weeks ago) and descended with joyous abandon.
• Feeling strong and fresh enough to be easy about being well ahead of ‘schedule’ early on, but still aware of some unexpected niggles (the kind that could happen at any speed) that I seemed to be running off but maybe came back to haunt me in the end?
• A lengthy section in company with Dirk Verbiest, who just had to match my personalised, ‘patent’ running/walking gait up the inclines after Rowardennan when I explained what I was doing and why!
• The ‘singing’ runner, who appears to have been Marc Casey (as also noted in John Kynaston’s race report).
• The oppressive heat and trying headwinds, which appeared in that order (although I couldn’t say exactly when) to compromise the later stages of the race.
• Some sustained yo-yo swapping of places with Gavin McKinlay (of the remarkably few training miles), who managed to suggest I was a ‘machine on the hills’ and declare himself impressed with that before ultimately leaving me for dead.
• Topping out the hill beyond Bridge of Orchy to be greeted by Murdo, his Saltire and the news (which possibly just filled me with false hope when I was beginning to struggle myself) that Marco was not that far ahead and ‘looks knackered’!
• My only sit-down stop, when Angus insisted on trying to massage some life back into my ailing quads at Glencoe Ski Centre, Flora and Paul Williams turned up to encourage me and I also met John Grieve on my way out.
• Catching a last glimpse of Gavin disappearing up the Devil’s Staircase (which I normally run in training) as I limped after him in a style that just doesn’t square with my usual ‘strength’ on my home ground.
• The mystery of the disappearing vaseline and its resolution… being a gross tale of ladling dollops of the stuff into my shorts at every checkpoint since Rowardennan (or maybe even Balmaha?) to combat, um, chafe, but wondering where the hell it was all going until the removal of my sunglasses on the way into Kinlochleven revealed a hitherto invisible halo of vaseline soaking right through to outside of said shorts and looking for all the world like a beautifully symmetrical ‘pee’ job! At which point I had to request a fresh pair of shorts and hope I got the chance to change into them before any school pupils or other fellow villagers (yes, it’s where I live and work!) started asking awkward questions. Speaking of which, I must mention my strange dream (related to Angus, Jon and Eileen on the way down to Milngavie) of a night or two before, in which I’d somehow (but why?) started the race with no shorts or anything and just an overlength T-shirt for ‘cover’, and was running helplessly vulnerable in the knowledge that we had none in the support vehicle (in reality there were three spare pairs as well as the ones I was wearing) with none available until we could collect them from my house (at 82 miles into the race!). So, some kind of wacky premonition or what?
• A sense of resigned shock at seeing Debs arriving at the Kinloch checkpoint as I left when I thought I’d ‘buried’ her north of Rowardennan (so sorry for the uncharitable thought, Debs, because it’s now obvious from studying the splits that you were never really that far behind!).
• An equal sense of shock on seeing Hugh Kerr take off through the Lairigmor (after sticking to me like glue as I hobbled up the climb out of the village that I’ve run so many times) at an apparent Mach 1 with me incapable of responding in my own ‘backyard’ as I recorded two killer miles of 16:21 and 19:08 on easy ground I’m habitually ‘jogging’ at 10-minute pace.
• More resignation on confirmation that Debs was still visible close behind (stop looking, Pete, stop looking… just focus as normal on what/who’s ahead!).
• My Forerunner 310XT battery giving up after 18:50:28 (first time I’ve run it that long) and 88.2 miles, after which I chose just to run ‘blind’ despite the possibility of picking up my spare 305 or a watch from my crew at Lundavra.
• The deflating news at Lundavra that I was now entitled to a support runner with Richie having passed through the checkpoint just over four hours previously. To which I must add that (despite feeling guiltily grateful for Jon’s support all the way from Bridge of Orchy in 2007) I chose to see the thing through myself rather than take him with me now… although simultaneously happily agreeing to let the boys join me at Braveheart.
• A mad dash (probably not as fast as it felt, but still absolutely flat out) all the way down Glen Nevis from the Vitrified Fort on the assumption that Debs was still around (on which note, she later suggested that she’d have hunted me down if I’d been a girl!).
• Flora and Noel (with camera) out at Braveheart, a wheezy, ‘just can’t dig deeper’ run through to the Leisure Centre with Angus and Jon and the pleasant surprise of seeing Eppie having joined Eileen to welcome me home.
• Scaring everyone but myself by my appearance (which I couldn’t see, but was variously described as white, grey or pale) at the finish!

And that’s more or less the story of my race, but there are still some things to be said that don’t quite fit into the chronological scheme…

• My calves got badly sunburnt (like absolutely the worst sunburn I’ve had in years) because we clearly didn’t get them adequately covered when successfully applying sunscreen to the rest of me.
• Despite my quads feeling absolutely trashed for 30 miles or so and apparently holding me back on the very stages where I’d expected to be strongest, they’re almost better already and the more severe left ‘quad’ pain has now resolved itself to a minor strain at the top of the leg (probably the niggle that I thought I’d run off up Loch Lomondside!). So I’ve been jogging a little bit about the school today and expect to be running properly (but gently) again this week, suggesting a pleasingly prompt recovery from my ‘trashed’ state of Saturday night.
• My feet survived completely unmarked from 95 miles in a single pair of shoes (Asics Gel Enduros) and socks (More Mile), so I’m crediting the magic insoles with saving my soles as well as straightening my Achilles tendons and keeping my knees intact! :-)
• My time of 20:49:32 was outside my aspirational sub-20, but still 1hr 26mins quicker than my previous effort on a day when there were apparently few PBs and provisionally good enough to take me back into the all-time top 100 at #97? So perhaps the heat and headwinds just ultimately took their toll or perhaps (despite being fitter and stronger than ever after so many good hill and trail miles in training) I just wasn’t good enough, but I’m confident that (having averaged over 5 mph for the first 65 miles or so) I gave it absolutely everything on the day.

Some special mentions coming up for…

• Richie Cunningham for a well-deserved win and time of 16:36:04 which IMHO stands comparison with Jez’s 15:44:50 record given the conditions.
• Thomas Loehndorf for his 18:49:42 finish after two previous late DNFs and injury despair of just a few weeks ago.
• The four ladies (Kate, Donna, Jamie and Sharon) who beat me handsomely and one (Debs) who didn’t quite hunt me down in the end!
• Absolutely everyone involved in the organisation and running of the event, both for such a good job in its own right and honouring Dario’s memory so well.
• Angus, Jon and Eileen for being there the whole way when, as I’ve said before, thanks are not enough! :-)

The photos here are by Noel Williams, but I hope to have more soon from Angus, Eileen and Noel.

So I wanted an easy hill run for the weekend before the big race, took Irvine Butterfield’s description of Meall Ghaordaidh as ‘quite the dullest hill in the Southern Highlands’ as a cast-iron recommendation and set out to run it this afternoon. Took some time to get down a busy A82 (Dalmally/Oban traffic still being diverted through Glencoe following Sunday’s derailment) with big tailbacks at the Ba Bridge roadworks, but the A85 and A827 were quieter and I got there in the end. And Butterfield was right, with the south side of Meall Ghaordaidh being devoid of character and the neighbouring Corbett of Beinn nan Oighreag little more interesting, but both somewhat redeemed by fine views far and near (nice prospect of the Tarmachan ridge and Ben Lawers range from Beinn nan Oighreag) and being an absolute romp to run with the gentle, grassy ridges that tend to be such predictable components of the ‘dull hill’ package. So that was 10.3 miles and 4,100 ft of ascent dispatched with minimal effort in under 2 hours 19 minutes to give me exactly what I’d been looking for, and now I’m thinking no more than a couple of low-level runs (maybe Monday and Wednesday) to complete a textbook taper (still wondering when the wheels are going to come off after months of getting things ‘right’!) in the six days remaining before the big one…

Hadn’t expected to be heading down the road this weekend, but Ian Beattie’s midweek proposal for a Friday night run from Milngavie to Balmaha was just what I needed three weeks before the West Highland Way Race (did the same with John Kynaston, Joe Sheridan and others at the same stage in 2007) so I arranged to stay Friday and Saturday nights with my parents in Cardross, pencilled in a hill run for the return journey on Sunday and set off after school on Friday.

Can’t remember exactly who turned up for this run in 2007, but the 2010 team comprised Ian, Phil Tipping, Stan Bland, Richie Cunningham and me, with us meeting at Balmaha at 10:00pm for Stan to drive us to Milngavie and me lined up to take Stan back for his car after the run. But here I made a big mistake, leaving my van keys in Stan’s car for safety (what was I thinking of?) and coming to with a loud expletive two miles into the run! At which point a quick discussion (to go back for them or not?) produced the consensus that it was probably better just to carry on and get Ian and Richie to toss a coin for the dubious honour of returning Stan and me to Milngavie later with the thrilling task of bringing me back to Balmaha for the van still negotiable. And that did indeed seem like the most sensible plan at the time, although things naturally took on a different perspective later to leave me thinking I shouldn’t have been so quick to decline Richie’s alternative offer to accompany me back to Milngavie by foot for a ‘fartlek session’ to catch the others up…

But who wants to hear about my brain farts anyway? (Yeah, everybody, I know!) So let’s get back to the real story and tell you that it was a grand night for running (being pleasantly cool and not terribly dark), although I’ll be checking all the signs and markers from Milngavie to Mugdock carefully on 19 June with this starting section of the WHW maybe being the easiest to lose and not all of us programmed to make Ian’s almost convulsive autopilot lurches (born of knowing the course back to front) onto the right path at every junction. And there’s not a great deal more to say here about the run to Balmaha except that I was hoping for a bit of a burn up Conic Hill, took Phil’s invitation for Richie and me to press on through Garadhban Forest literally, found myself oddly committed when it quickly became apparent that Richie hadn’t gone with me, tore up Conic (running all the way for no better or worse reasons than because I could and felt like it) at between 5 and 6 mph and arrived at Balmaha with plenty of time to feel stupid about not being able to get into my van. Some 25 minutes later, just as I was thinking it was time to send out a search party (aka running back to meet the others), Richie arrived with the news that Phil was sharing Ian’s torchlight over Conic, then the less illuminated (?) arrived about 15 minutes later again. At which point Richie offered to take us back to Milngavie, Stan went out of his way to return me to Balmaha and I just wished I’d taken Richie up on the key-fetching fartlek session I’d rejected through fear of being casually burned off!

Saturday was a quiet day for me as far as running’s concerned, with a 4.3 mile road run round the Red Road at Cardross enough to keep me happy after our 19.3 miles overnight. But I did still want that proper hill run today to complete my last ‘full’ week of training for the big race, and had settled on the Sgiath Chuil/Meall Glas group above Glen Dochart as being both a suitable length/character for that and the nearest Munros or Tops I’d never done. And it proved to be just what I was looking for, with these hills (like so many described in various guides as ‘tedious’, ‘undistinguished’ or ‘uninteresting’) being great to run on and the Corbett of Beinn nan Imirean getting thrown in for good measure to make up a 12.5 mile round with c.5,000 ft of ascent completed in almost exactly 3 hours, which I’d say is pretty good going for that. Might also say I was impressed by the helpful signs marking the paths onto and up the hills at Auchessan Farm, and suggest that the striking outcrop of quartz rocks and boulders on the way up Beinn nan Imirean is clearly there for a purpose (never seen better for a game of ‘snow, sheep or quartz?’). After which I must just sign off (in common with several of the other ‘West Highland Way’ blogs) by declaring that it’s ‘taper time’ and speculate that only the right taper, no debilitating bugs, some decent running conditions on the day and a few other imponderables (touch wood… only?) now stand between me and the result of which I dream! ;-)

Think yesterday (despite being hot with only intermittent cloud cover) was probably the right choice for a meaty hill run because it’s been absolutely bucketing so far this morning!

Now, this one was planned as something of a ‘mopping up’ exercise having previously been up Beinn Eunaich but not Beinn a’ Chochuill, and still missing three peripheral tops of Cruachan (Sron an Isean to the east and the ‘Taynuilt peak’ Stob Dearg and Meall Cuanail to the west) that suggested a full traverse as the only tidy way to pick them up. So I hit on the idea of this greater traverse taking in Beinn Eunaich (first time since November 1982!), Beinn a’ Chochuill and the seven tops of Cruachan, with the fine Corbett of Beinn a’ Bhuiridh thrown in as the most aesthetic route back to my starting point on the Stronmilchan road. But that’s a fair way at 19.2 miles with c.10,000 ft of ascent, giving a run that’s shorter on the ground but as strenuous and time-consuming as a serious trail run of twice the mileage. And, if you ask me why I didn’t leave the road for this hefty round until 2:50pm, I can only answer that 1. I was waiting for the post (usually about lunchtime here) in the hope of getting my Nathan Elite 2V Plus (which did indeed arrive) to try, and 2. this is typically me (afternoon and evening runner!) anyway. Which left me finishing minutes before 9:00pm after just over six hours on the hoof for an average speed of 3.1 mph… which might not sound fast at all to the road runner but, as any hill runner can tell you, it’s not mileage but ascent that takes the time. And, with Naismith’s rule suggesting more like 11½ hours for this expedition, I’m really quite satisfied with six (hence the ‘slowly quick’) for terrain where steep ascents and awkward rocky descents are frequently demanding slower speeds yet.

So how about the Elite 2V Plus, and how did that do? Well, the moment I opened the package, I knew that it was quite simply one of the best-designed bits of kit I’ve ever bought. It’s comfortable, stable when running loaded up and just really well thought out with everything (bottles, front pouches etc.) so accessible and clever details like the tuck-back ends to the waist strap. While true (as you’ll see if you go searching for reviews) that some slimmer folk might find the bottles well-placed for elbow-bashing, I must say that I neither run with my elbows glued to my sides nor swing them that much at the kinds of speeds I’m normally doing, so didn’t find this a problem on yesterday’s pretty rigorous testing ground. And the bottles are so accessible in those angled holders that I’d suggest the occasional nudge is a small price to pay so long as it’s not happening all the time. (Might be worth pointing out here that, with 500ml Lucozade Sport bottles dropping easily into the holders made for Nathan’s 650ml bottles, I’m thinking of trying these on the run and keeping the originals for water only. Also that the rear pouch featured on the 2V Plus but not the 2V is most definitely worth having, comfortably takes a large Montane Featherlite Smock in its ‘ball’ and will swallow up the pants as well if both stuffed in loose.) To summarise, while I don’t recall being aware of Nathan before researching bottle belts the other day, I’ve already seen and experienced enough (can’t believe I’ve managed without this for so long!) to believe their kit is amongst the very best for what it does.

And so to a couple of almost random statements to round off…

Firstly, to John Kynaston, no, these hills don’t even bother me. At least, not that much, although the re-ascent to Beinn a’ Bhuiridh was a fair grind on a hot evening! ;-)

And, secondly, to Tracey and friends (on the slim chance that you see this, find it or someone points you here), another belated apology for selfishly abandoning you all to bag Ben Cruachan itself when you’d had enough after Stob Diamh or Drochaid Ghlas in November 2000 (?). I shouldn’t have done that then, and wouldn’t do it now.

So who could describe a 55 mile trail run as ‘an attractive-sounding short ultra’ and how attractive (or short!) might that still be sounding when you’re standing on the start line seven months later?

Hmmm… dunno (who, me?), but skip seven months and a day from posting my entry for the 2010 Cateran Trail Race (and writing here that ‘it sounds friendly, it sounds good, I fancy it and maybe the May target will help keep me on track’) to Spittal of Glenshee at 6:00am on Saturday 15 May 2010 and I might be able to tell you…

(Answers for those who can’t be bothered to read the whole post: 1. yes, me, but you knew that; 2. still attractive, but long enough!)

Now, this was supposed to be some kind of glorified training run and an 11 hour race might have been the perfect tune-up/tester for the West Highland Way, but something a bit faster (to see what I could do) was always going to be tempting so long as it was built on even effort/pace and not salvaged (or otherwise) from early misjudgement. So off I set with the heart rate alarm set to 125 bpm, constantly telling me to slow down despite quickly finding myself near the back of the 45-strong field and possibly irritating me even more than those round about me as they kept passing me, falling behind again or simply tagging along when all I wanted was to find my own space to run my own race. But imposing a set upper limit was probably unnecessarily strict when I knew 130 bpm on the climbs should be fine, and that nagging alarm eventually got turned off at just past one-quarter-distance with group sanity and battery life in mind and half an eye on the heart rate deemed good enough to monitor my continuing effort levels.

So that was that, but how about the other potentially crucial factor of refuelling strategy? How to get your drop bags right when you know you’ll never be able to take on what you should for a ‘5,000 calorie race’ but feel compelled to pack it anyway? Just think on the hoof, skip that first bag at Kirkton of Glenisla when collecting/stashing the stuff can only hold you up and you’ve got another waiting a mere 11 miles on at Den of Alyth! So I declined the bag, shot past the checkpoint and quite a few runners as I just kept chugging up the hill beyond (where I finally turned off the heart rate alarm), and might add that comparing my official split placings (30th equal, 27th, 13th equal, 9th, 9th and 8th at successive checkpoints) to my own Forerunner data (c.4:48 for the predominantly ‘downhill’ first half and 5:03 for the more obviously ‘uphill’ return to Glenshee) appears to support the supposition that I ran more evenly than most. But perhaps I’m digressing here, and should just be telling you how nice it was to catch up (pun intended after some good chat!) with John Kynaston over Hill of Alyth before collecting ladies’ winner Helen Johnson and a cramping Bill Hutchison at the Den of Alyth checkpoint to make a sociable gang of four which lasted until walking sociably up the long but runnable climb spanning the halfway point became too much for me to bear with the possibility of finishing in under 10 hours increasingly exercising my mind!

No doubt that I’d found my own space after that, and it was a very solitary run that took me on to Blairgowrie (which the marshals failed to persuade me was Pitlochry!) and over what seemed to be much uphill ground to Bridge of Cally, where I briefly picked up some company from a girl (sorry I’ve forgotten your name) training for the Edinburgh Half-Marathon. Then a wee bonus with another competitor (David Rogers) run down coming out of Blackcraig Forest before I was completely back on my own for the last quarter of the race and tackling the fabled closing hill, which finally reduced me (what, a hardened west-coaster who runs up bigger hills all the time?) largely to a walk before clearing the surprising little pass of An Lairig for the headlong plunge to Glenshee and satisfyingly abrupt finish in that coveted sub-10 time. After which I sat down — underfed and underhydrated — for the first time since starting, neither comfortable nor surprised to feel my legs stiffening up (something they’d been threatening for 30 miles or more) but more amused than aghast to see my calves pulsating in some amazing alien jelly dance! Which could all have been quite worrying, but responded positively enough to food, drink and a shower to suggest well-judged effort rather than too steep a price and produced some comment from Richie Cunningham to the effect that I was bound to be feeling it when I’d been hammering the miles in training (what, Richie said that… to me?) but should be fine after tapering properly for the WHW. At which point we started to discuss bringing cycling into the taper…

So what else can I say when I meant to get this out last night as a concise and readable little report, but have found wrestling with the words to keep it that way less successful than (and maybe almost as arduous as!) the race I’m attempting to describe?

• I placed 8th in the official time of 9:51:40, with only the first three of Jack Brown (7:54:24), Paul Hart (8:23:17) and Richie Cunningham (8:44:08) more than an hour quicker.
• My Forerunner recorded 54.59 miles in 9:51:48 at an average pace of 10:50 per mile (5.5 mph) and heart rate of 122 bpm.
• I beat all the girls (something that doesn’t happen very often!), but have to be just as happy with running over 2 mins/mile faster than WHW target pace and not suffering for too long afterwards (walking on Sunday and back running comfortably on my normal, rough trails tonight).
• The organisation by Karen D and team was superb (likewise hospitality by Spittal of Glenshee Hotel), and the finishers’ quaich is a great little keepsake.
• My soles escaped without blistering (first time unscathed from 50 miles?).
• My soft-strap heart rate monitor seems to be working much more reliably after tightening the strap and applying gel to the electrodes.
• Having come back to bottles from Platypus/Camelbak-type arrangements but needing quick access to drinks because I hate running with my hands full, I’ve just been researching bottle belts and ordered the only one that looks adequate to me (Nathan Elite 2V Plus).
• While still not totally happy with my weight (hovering about half a stone above my initial WHW target), it’s clearly not hurting me that much and I’m no longer set on meeting that target if I can’t get there quickly without running hungry all the time.

With thanks to Vicky Hart for the photo of me finishing. :-)

So here I am, five miles up some private road up Glen Fyne when I should have been leaving it for the open hill after four-and-a-half max, acutely aware that absolutely nothing squares with my recollection of the map (which I haven’t actually looked at since leaving Kinlochleven). So why didn’t said road start from the east side of the bridge where I parked the van? Why did I run past a fairly substantial lochan when I don’t remember it being marked? And why is this road now taking me steeply and obviously east when I should be leaving it to the west? Time to dig out the map and check, but still nothing fits and, for the first time since getting my Forerunner 310XT, I’ve found a use for the British Grid ref that the 305 couldn’t give. Just need to work out how to get it now, so spend a few minutes fiddling and there it is… but it’s not in Glen Fyne and the realisation hits me like a sledgehammer… I’ve parked the van at the head of the wrong bloody loch, run up the wrong bloody glen and have nearly twice the distance to cover to get my peak (Beinn Bhuidhe) or I’ve simply driven all the way down here for a stupid road run in trail shoes…

What a pillock! :-O

So is this just a staggering display of piss-poor navigation by a qualified Mountain Leader? Well, no, I wouldn’t say so because it’s more a case of no navigation at all (can’t blame map reading/interpretation when the map’s not in use or sense of direction when I’ve been heading the right way so far). And should I simply keep quiet about it and pretend I meant to take Glen Shira all along (for the miles, you see)? No, of course not, because it’s really very, very funny and I’ve got the blog post title sorted (after considering but rejecting ‘Running up the wrong glen’) within half a mile of that sledgehammer moment. And do I care that I’ve now got to run an extra 10 miles or so that I hadn’t bargained for? Well, no, not really… so just tell myself that it’s all good training (hey presto, see my 70 mile week turn into an 80!) and if I can’t cope with that I can’t cope with an off-road ultra next weekend. So every cloud has a silver lining, I’m getting some free miles I’d never have planned, a fortuitous chance to test my resolve and, to cap it all, the long western ridge from Tom a’ Phiobaire over Stac a’ Chuirn to the summit turns out to be really nice to run on…

Result! :-)

20.4 miles and 4,100 ft of ascent (from Memory-Map as opposed to 310XT’s raw 5,093 ft or Garmin Connect’s incorrectly ‘corrected’ 3,352 ft) to bring my total since Monday to 82.4 miles and 19,400 ft. And that first 6.5 miles or so up to the little dam below the break in the forest would be a fast and easy cycle (had considered taking the bike, but really did want all the running miles I was going to get up Glen Fyne) if actually planning to go the long way another time.

It’s a year to the day since my post announcing my withdrawal from the 2009 West Highland Way Race, but it’s not last year now! From December 2008’s write-off to December 2009’s icy trail runs… from spring 2009’s sporadic, ‘pretend’ training to spring 2010’s solid, committed build-up… everything’s quite simply different. Last year the fire just wasn’t there (never really got lit and couldn’t be fed), but this year it’s raging and it’s now or never for that coveted PB because I never want to have to work so obsessively at this again!

So how am I doing, then? Well, having just thrown in a consciously lighter week after feeling tired from three much heftier ones, I’m looking for another solid week plus a lighter one before the Cateran Trail (15 May), then another lighter/heavier pair before thinking about a more sustained taper for the West Highland Way (19 June). So just need to stick to that, watch the weight (doing OK ATM), stay well and uninjured (?) and I’ll have done what I reasonably can…

Thought a proper hill run sounded like a good start to this week, so headed out into the Mamores today with the intention of running Sgurr a’ Mhaim, Stob Ban and Mullach nan Coirean, but conditions were so glorious when I got up there that I just had to take a wee diversion up Am Bodach as well! And the hills just seemed so easy (felt almost like I was floating upwards… to match that paraglider soaring above Sgurr a’ Mhaim?), the Wave Harriers continued to perform impressively enough (got the lacing sorted last night) to have me at the point of ordering a second pair (observant followers of this blog may have noted my predilection for buying running shoes two pairs at a time!) and it was all basically just a magic afternoon out. Although it was a mistake to let curiosity tempt me up the wrong (quickly extinct) path leaving the main Mamore track and I’d have to advise anyone taking that otherwise excellent route up to the ridge to hang on (as I knew I should have done) for the path beyond the bridge.

Also have to make another observation about the ‘Elevation Corrections’ applied to raw GPS data by Garmin Connect, which is to suggest that my suspicions (discussed in my post of 1 April) about their elevation data containing too few points of reference appear to be founded when the ‘corrected’ data for today’s track gives my max elevation as 3,520 ft and I know that Sgurr a’ Mhaim is 3,601 ft high! So my preferred method of cross-checking the recorded ascent/descent is now converting the track to a route (ignoring the shorter distance usually resulting from more straight lines) in Memory-Map and getting it from the route properties, which gives 7,051 ft of ascent and descent (compared to the Forerunner’s 7,150 ft up/7,135 ft down and Garmin Connect’s ‘corrected’ 6,294 ft) for today’s 17.3 mile trip.

One more thing I might mention before hitting that ‘Publish’ button to get this thing online is that I’ve been looking over my 2007 diary to see how this year’s WHW build-up compares, and noted that it was roughly mid-to-late May that year that I started to suffer from the knee problems that continued to plague me for months after the race. So naturally hoping (as I’ve believed for some time) that the magic insoles have got talismanic qualities there and, while it’s clearly not last year now, it’s not 2007 either!

Not much to say about today, really, but I’ve got another nice 900x900px map to go with yesterday’s and thought I might as well post it. So my expectations of this week were fairly low after losing Monday and Tuesday to a troublesome cough/cold (still maybe not entirely gone if tonight’s slightly raw throat is anything to go by) but, with yesterday’s hill run bringing up 46 miles since Wednesday, 14 or more today would give me 60 for the week and a trip to Kings House and back looked tempting at 18. Thought it might be a run too far because I was tired and it took me a while to get going, but how I wanted those miles and seemed strong enough in the end despite starting to get a bit light-headed/hypoglycemic round about the bridge over the Allt a’ Choire Odhair-mhoir on the way back. Which meant taking some extra care on the remaining rocky path to the Penstock and would be my fault for setting off on a banana instead of lunch again, carrying just two 92 calorie cereal bars (both scoffed at Kings House) to keep me going. Which those who’ve read my Bonking on Rannoch Moor post might well question, leaving me with no real answer/defence except to point to interested experimentation in running tired/empty and an assurance that I won’t be tackling the ultras on just cereal bars and water! For all that, I enjoyed the run (in hotter/thirstier conditions than expected) and am well pleased to have salvaged 64 miles of good off-road stuff from a week when I might reasonably have been satisfied with 40.

Broadband connection is running like a dog tonight (also the reason for yesterday’s post only appearing this morning), but that’s another matter (and has been reported to my provider)! :-/