I'm the common denominator

When it comes to drama, guaranteed I'll be at the root of it. And today's run took it to a whole new level.

According to my training schedule, a 35-mile run was on the cards. The original plan was to run from Bridge of Orchy to Fort William, but recent snow storms across Scotland forced us to change plans to lower-lying grounds.

Cairn was staying at my Mum's last night, so we could both run today. I left the house with the view to running onto the WHW, taking the road round to Balmaha and then back on the WHW up Conic Hill and onto Milngavie. Sonic was doing the similar route, but leaving after me to catch up.

All was going well until I started going up Conic Hill. The further I went up, the deeper the snow got. In hindsight I was ill prepared for the conditions. The temperature was close to freezing, but the wind-chill factor would have taken it well below that. Some kind soul had kicked most of the steps, so I followed them. If I had half a brain cell I would turned back, but I was committed (oh and a little bit stubborn) and was moving closer to the summit. I called Sonic to explain the situation (mini-tantrum) who informed me he was at the bottom of hill. Descending the other side was when I got myself into a real pickle. I was waist-deep in thick snow, soaking wet and freezing my ass off. There was a layer of ice on top of snow, which was shredding my legs. Despite knowing this route like the back of my hand, the path was non-existent and I felt as if I was (literally) rolling about aimlessly. I was a blubbering, snottering wreck. As dramatic as it sounds, I honestly feared for my life.

Panic calls to Sonic (mega-tantrum), who tried to calm me and find out where I was. He informed me he was down at the bridge (after going from Drymen). "WTF? You mean you're not on this hill". I was expecting him to appear behind, like a knight in shining armour. "F*ck no, it's waist-deep up there", was the reply. After what seemed like an eternity of trudging through snow, he appeared in the distance. Given the way I had previously acted he would have been forgiven for just leaving me there!!

Sonic was a little more prepared (from his mountain rescue training) than me, and piled me up with a fleece sweater and a wind-proof jacket. My survival kit consisted of some sweets, a cap, babywipes and an ipod! He later informed me that I was gibbering rubbish and shaking uncontrollably. I must admit being that cold and that disorientated - it's amazing that a route you know so well becomes unrecognisable in different conditions - was very scary. What would normally take 30 minutes, took over two hours. And I would probably take the prize for being the most ill equipped/prepared runner on the hills.

Although, at a lower level - the snow-depth had shrunk to a more manageable knee-deep, it was a few miles on the route to Drymen before we could start running. There were a few walkers out enjoying - what was then - as lovely snow-covered path. I had piled the layers of clothing on top of my backpack, so I must have looked like a Ninja turtle approaching.

We met another runner - Sarah who was training for the Fling - just outside of Drymen. She must have thought I was slightly unhinged, given the ensemble and the gibbering story of my Conic Hill adventure.

Anyway, the show must go on. Although If I was given the option of airlift of the hill to never run again, I would have taken it. Back in the land of normality (or at least normal body temperature) I had waved off the notion of hitching a lift and changed the route to running back over the Balloch Horseshoe home. 33 miles in total. If good ultra-running training is about time of feet, then that was a quality run. Although it's not an experience I would want to repeat, EVER.

Sitting of the comfort of my sofa with a chilled glass of wine (for medicinal reasons, obviously) I probably did act a little OTT. When I told Sonic I thought Cairn was going to be orphaned, he said "but he would still have me". Really, it's two of the same thing. I would just leave two boys without responsible guidance and care. Although Sonic has had the satisfaction of referring to me as a "fking idiot" more often than absolutely necessary this afternoon. Next time, I'll pack more appropriately. Well, maybe. It has given me something to blog about :-)

The need for speed

And boy do I need to do some speedwork. I want to add some variety and feel light on my feet. I haven't really done any speedwork since before London Marathon last year. After that I toned it down for the WHWR. Now I just feel like I'm plodding along quite happily. But moaning because I'm not getting any faster. Some may define insanity as : doing the same thing over and over again, but expecting different results.

So this week was the start of my new training regime. Not that there's a regime per se. Just a want to take the bull by the horns. Not that you'd catch me near a bull you understand, but you get the drift*.

Anyway on Monday I did 1K reps. Don't get excited, I did three. I learnt back in February - when I got injured for two weeks - not to push it too quickly. So I discovered at 1000m loop round the block of houses next to me and off I went. The first one was torture, but the second and third were better. 4:28, 4:23 and 4:18. Blogging those times should shame me into working harder.

On Tuesday night, I went out for a seven-miler. I couldn't face running through Alexandria again, so I drove up to the start of the Balloch Horseshoe and did a seven-mile loop round Gartochan. It's a fab undulating country road. Plenty of nasty hills to get the heart-rate up. I started out (not feeling too energised) thinking I was going to go easy, but decided to pick up the effort level. Total time 57.56, Average 8.16. 8.50, 8.10, 8.24, 8.09, 8.11 and 8.21.

This weekend I've got two "races". Said in the loosest term as tomorrow I'm the sweeper in the Bearsden & Milngavie 10K. Jeez I hope the last runner isn't too fast for me :-) Would it be wrong to sprint finish? Ha ha. I think finishing behind the sweeper would be wrong. I hope it's not raining. Best pack a stick just in case.

On Sunday I'm pacing Brother Sonic's girlfriend, Gillian, round to get under the hour in the Vale of Leven 10K. Gillian, if you're reading - No parties tomorrow night. I want fire in your belly, not vodka! And if you even consider taking over an hour, I may have to DNF at 6.1 miles. Just kidding, my lovely. I'll ask to be omitted from the results instead :-) See me, see motivational chat.

* This brings me on to another subject. Not bulls, but cows. Why are cows scared from everyone except me? They don't cower away more me, they come at me. A few weeks ago when I was out walking on a country road with Cairn, there was one that came pounding towards me and followed me along the hedge line moo-ing it's head off. I know she was protecting her calf, but it was Cairn who had to protect me. And then last week I was out on the cycle route in the Baby Jogger. Part of the path to Dumbarton cuts across a field and over a bridge. Fine on the way out, but on the way back there was a large herd of cows. I tried but I just couldn't muster up the courage to approach. I was considering turning back, but saw a cyclist to approaching. So along came a 70+ man on a 70+old bike and dispersed them. I hung on behind him, but as soon as he was gone they all came bounding back over. I swear it should have been filmed for youtube. Me pushing a jogger at break-neck speed whilst turning every second and squealing like an idiot. I have since googled "cows that kill" and there are many tales to be told. Try it.

Multitasking

This weekly blogging is becoming a bit of a habit. Maybe I'm not superwoman after all. I'm mean with being a full-time working Mother (minus the childcare), 247 milk machine, maid, cook, coach and wannabe athlete, you'd think I'd have loads of time on my hands. Thankfully I'm a member of the fairer sex and just get on with it. Although I did take it to a new level last week I was feeding Cairn, making the dinner and replying to emails on my Blackberry at the same time.



So I've been back working for the last couple of weeks. Well, working from home. I wasn't sure I was motivated enough, but I actually get loads more done. And I'm lovin' it. Not that I've ever been away from work you understand. Sonic used to threaten to confiscate my Blackberry.

Although I love hanging out with Cairn, I'm so not cut-out to be a stay-at-home-Mom. I did try the baby group thing. A baby massage class, in fact. The first couple of weeks were great. But by week five we were still talking about our childbirth experiences and breastfeeding, so I losing the will to live. Maybe they were a little more wholesome than me. Especially when they were excitedly telling me about the Baby Rhythm Time class they go to on a Friday morning. I found myself saying: "oh that would be lovely" when really I thinking: "I'd rather stab myself in the eye with a rusty compass". I never went back.

I have converted the room (uh hum, cupboard) under the stairs into my office. Now I know how Harry Potter felt. I spend many long hours without even a window for sanity. I pretty much start work as soon as I get up. Given the light mornings, can be as early as 5am. When we move house, I promise I'm going to buy black-out blinds. My early morning meanderings could be grounds for divorce. The only thing with working from home, is there's no cut off point. No 9 to 5. So I could be sitting at my PC at 6am and still working at 10pm.

I'm usually up and organised before Cairn even stirs. And he sleeps through the night. I know, I've been blessed. Actually there was a day last week, when I had to wake him up at 9.45am. Not because it might mess up his routine, but because I was starting to look like Lola Ferrari. Anyway, I wished I had left him sleeping. Within the space of 30 minutes he'd puked on me, peed on the carpet and sh*t in the bath. Babies, eh? Can't live with 'em. Can't sell them on Ebay :-)

This week it's been a hard slog trying to fit in some running and general exercise. On Tuesday night, I did my usual 10-mile on the Balloch Horseshoe. Sonic always mocks me for running the same routes all the time. Does anyone else do this? I don't usually like a route until I've done it a few times. On Thursday, I did my usual seven mile tempo run round Dumbarton. See me, see creature of habit.

But wait, On Saturday I pushed the boat right out and did something different - I ran from the house (via Drymen) to Balmaha. OK it starts on the Balloch Horseshoe and I have ran from Drymen to Balmaha more times than I can mention, but I've never linked it all together. And I've never done the bit in the middle. Does this count? Wow what a great route. Undulating country roads, peaceful cycle paths and then onto the West Highland Way before Drymen. I knew this was going to be a tough 18.5 mile run, but I didn't really flag until I got to Conic Hill. I was pretty glad my journey would be over at the other side. I tried to run as much as I could, but was reduced to walking at the mega steep bits. Except when I jogged past a group of hikers and I overheard one saying "Look, there's a fell runner". Oh boll*cks! I felt obliged to keep going to save face. Thankfully the wind was behind me on the way up, but it didn't help on the descent on the other side. Being pushed off a steep muddy hill in road shoes wasn't pleasant. And the fact that my quads were screaming didn't help. Hopefully giving my legs are good kickin' should see me right for my first long run on the WHW - Kingshouse to Fort William. It's my favourite section, so I can't wait.



total time 3:19. Average pace 10:56 m/m