The torture tour of Glasgow

Appropriate training for a 24-hour race is a wide open to debate. As with all ultra-running training it's very much a personal thing. It's not as if you can google a tried and tested training schedule, download it, stick it on your fridge and get cracking. Believe me, I tried it. My three back-to-back long runs plan came from some random forum on some random website about some random guy who had run some random 24-hour race. To me it seemed like a good idea, so I pinched it. I don't even think I read anymore of the discussion on the matter. That was weekend training part one.

Weekend training part two was a plan devised in my own crazy thoughts. I may have mentioned it once or twice before, but I don't like surprises. Ignorance is never blissful. So I thought it would be a good idea (remember it's personal thing) to schedule in a 24-hour WALK. I ran this idea passed a few people. Everyone seemed intrigued, but no one said it seemed logical. Team selector and uber experienced ultra-runner Adrian Stott, even called on the guidance of William Sichel for his thoughts. He said it wasn't necessary, but could see my reasoning. There was a lot of chat on the damage that it could cause to my heels, which I didn't take as serious as I should have.

The original plan was to take the ferry over and walk around the Isle of Arran (55 miles) with the GM - who's also on the team for the 24-hour race. But then the GM got injured and that was knocked on the head. Unfortunately it wasn't knocked out of my head. A plan's a plan. Although without my trusty sidekick, a nice scenic route and the sense of achievement, I started to back track a little. I wasn't brave enough to walk round the island alone and I certainly wasn't comfortable with trawling the streets of Glasgow on my tod in the wee small hours.



So the torture tour started at 6am, just before a beautiful sunrise. I wasn't going to be rigid with plans, times or distances, as I was just going to see how it went. It was all about time of foot. Ok, I was back-tracking a lot.

I won't bore you with the details of where I walked, as I've tried to erase it from my mind, but it started on a loop round Milngavie then covered the west end, southside, out to Braehead, back through the city centre and back round the west end.

Throughout the day, all was going well. Although walking routes you tend to run takes FOREVER. Maybe popping into shops when something caught my eye didn't help. Although it was nice to finally get round to browsing in Run Urban, the new running shop on the southside. Plus it gave me a goal to walk the 23 miles (via the long way) to get there.

After about 30 miles the thunder and heavy rain started. I love running in the rain, but I don't share the same enthusiasm for walking in it. Then my heels started to rub and blister. I generally don't heel strike when I run, so the different walking action was taking it's toll on my feet and hips. And it was helluva lonely out there.

I decided to cap it at 50 miles. The idea of walking into the night - in Glasgow! - was not very appealing. 50 miles or 16:30 hours on foot was a good start. Plus, I helped with the economy. The good thing about urban walking is that you don't need to carry too much in supplies. Just me, my gadgets and some extra clothing. En route I purchased Meal Deals from Tesco and Sainsburys, sweets and juice from Asda, coffee from Costa and to finish off the culinary tour, a pizza from Morrisons. I should be a secret shopper. I had to run for a mile or so to get to Morrisons before it closed. The jogging motion felt soooo good and all the discomforted instantly disappeared. That's a good sign after 16 hours. Although after being on the go for so long, I would highly recommend avoiding the self-checkout tills. It nearly got a good kick.

To be honest, I didn't think walking 50 miles could hurt so much. My hips ached and I'd suddenly developed "cankles". But hey, no running all weekend. Although being a sofa athlete and watching various races unfold was just as exhausting. Well done to Matt, Paul and Lucy for the top three at Speyside. Huge congratulations to everyone who conquered and fought well at the UTMB. That looked epic and provided edge-of-the-seat drama for a couple of days. Then Mo Farah narrowly missing out on gold at the World Championship 10,000 nearly tipped me over.



Every picture tells a story and this one is filled with emotion.

So, what's your picture story, Richie? Is this how babies are made? After a top 50 finish in the UTMB as well. Now that's endurance :-) Congratulations guys!!

Exciting news!

Do you like the new logo on the right? Well, I love it. I was absolutely delighted - and even more shocked! - when MONTANE asked me to be their first female ultra-running sponsored athlete.



When I stopped jumping up and down and shrieking I answered their initial interview questions for their website and marketing material.

Click here to read the interview

Before the news had time to go to my head, I had to get training for the 24-hour race. It started the weekend after the Devils with an 18-mile road run with the lovely Emma. Great company, but let's just say I've had easier runs. An out-and-back on the Clyde Stride route, right through the Pipeband Championships at Glasgow Green. The only time I like the sound of bagpipes is during a race, because it signifies the end or at least the end of a mile. Any other time, I fail to understand how it can be called a "musical" instrument.

Last weekend, I took Friday off work - which is a shame because I LOVE, LOVE my job* - to get in some long runs. I remember when days off were about colossal hangovers and shopping and sunny days were about more than the sheer excitement of getting as much washing on the line as possible. All part of the ageing process, I think.

Anyway, I did 20 miles on Friday morning. 20 miles on Friday afternoon. And another 20 miles on Saturday morning. All on road and on the dullest of routes. All in all, I was pretty pleased with the runs. And even more pleased to have finished three long runs before noon on Saturday. Trainers away and the weekend was all mine. I took Cairn to the park, did some shopping, made homemade seafood for dinner and settled down to watch X Factor with some vino. On any other day, this would have been my idea of heaven. Another part of the ageing process, I think. But after the over-exertion I couldn't really face food even left half a glass of wine. Granted I'd had two glasses prior to my early retirement, but still, It's unheard of.

On Sunday my legs felt fine, but my body felt like someone had sucked out my soul. Combination of many miles, wine and the possibility of some germs, courtesy of Cairn. He's had some kind of lurgy for the passed couple of weeks. Snotty nose and raspy throat. The nursery called me on Wednesday afternoon asking me to pick him as he had a "raging fever". I called the doctor's surgery en route to collect him for an emergency appointment. He looked pretty sorry for himself when I picked up him, but then went skipping into the surgery and proceeded to entertain the packed waiting room with renditions of "Old McDonald Had a Farm". When called for the appointment, the doctor looked over her glasses and said: "Is this the emergency appointment?". I did stutter something about it be billed to me differently, but I guess I'm now on his file as "includes neurotic Mother". You gotta love kids. He was back at nursery the next day.

So far this week has been a bit stop-start, but I think I'm back on track. Last couple of weeks of training before - guess what? - tapering again.

Very best of luck to everyone taking part in the UTMB this weekend. JK set up a site to follow friends of the WHWR throughout the races. Click here.

* I've recently found out that my Editor's wife has discovered my blog :-)

Let the devil take the hindmost

Saturday saw me lining up for my fourth Devil o' the Highlands. It was to be my fifth ultra in just over four months. Not a big ask for some of the nutters I know, but for me it was out of my comfort zone.


I managed to secure a last minute place in the race. Basically just for the Scottish Ultra Marathon Series points. I guess that makes me a pot-hunter :-)

There was no real opportunity to train for this. Ever since my 100K race in March, my sequence has been race, recover, taper, repeat.

Friday wasn't the pre-race preparation and restful day I was hoping for. Flat tyre, poorly child, Sonic trailed dog sh*t through the house and although I'd planned a day off work, that was knocked on the head. And I still had to pack, drop Cairn off at my Mum's (early start, busy roads/checkpoints and the midge fest that is the highlands, is not the best place for a two-year-old) and travel up to Tyndrum.

Sonic (still injured and resigned to back up again, much to his delight) and I were staying in a Hiker's Hut (emphasis on the "hut") at Pinetrees Caravan Park. Tyndrum was pretty jammed-packed, but I'd managed to get a cancellation. Last minute was certainly the theme for this race. All for an extra hour in bed no stress travelling to the race start. I do get quite freaked before races. I'm a space cadet at the best of times, but pre-race I'm pretty vacant and walk about like a startled rabbit. I suppose it's my way of dealing with nerves. Not having the journey was one less thing to tighten my strings.

I was up at 4am for porridge and coffee, dressed and off to registration and race briefing. It was wasn't long before we congregated round at Brodie's Store ready for the start at 6am. And then we were off...



I ran with JK for the first few sections. Actually, by his own omission, he attached himself to me like an umbilical cord. It was great though, as I haven't really had the chance to run with him much this year. The miles just zipped passed. As planned, I just kept to my own pace and let others go tearing off. I did have a silent giggle watching people pelting up the hills.

JK was running without a watch, so I tried to make a conscious effort not to mention time or pace. I did slip up on the approach to BoO by airing my disbelief that it wasn't even 7am. Although I'm pretty sure he could see the screen on my Garmin, if he wanted to. They're not exactly the daintiest of watches.

Before long, we had reached the first support point at Bridge of Orchy. I planned to just pick up some tablet to eat heading up the hill, which I did. I always walk most this section, safe in the knowledge that we would soon pass the people who had chosen not too. Which we did.

The lovely Davie was on snapper duty at the top of the Orchy Hills and I joked that I was still trying to shake JK off. I really enjoyed the descent into Inveronan. The last time I was on this hill was after 60+ miles and my glutes weren't happy about the downhill pounding.

Heading round to Victoria Bridge, JK informed me that Sonic was going to meet us at the gate. Just as well, as I would have been in panic mode looking for him. Well, panic mode looking for my supplies.

In this race, in that location at this time of year, the runners get a better deal. The midges were awful. You know it's bad when they annoy you while running. I picked up some fluid, a gel and some sweets - which I didn't touch, but carried for the next 30 miles.

Moving on, I nearly tripped over Helen Lees who had stopped to tie her shoe lace. It took me a few miles to discover why. I was carrying twins :-)

It was such a lovely morning and Rannoch Mor was glorious. We caught up with a few runners over the six mile stretch and started to gain on the gals who were sitting in 3rd and 4th position. I wasn't even remotely bothered, as I was sticking to my plan. My plan was based on staying comfortable, not time. Last year in this section, I felt awful. This year was a different story. I'm not quite sure where I was getting the energy from.

We caught up with the GM just before the descent into Glencoe and I ran with her down to the ski centre. That was the last I saw of JK. Maybe it was the GM's mooning that tipped him over ;-)



The GM stopped to meet up her support and I pushed on to Kingshouse, where I had arranged to meet Sonic. I think even he was surprised to see me coming down in second place. I moved on quickly as nature was calling. Rannoch Mor is so exposed that there's no where to hide. I was now is urgent need of a hiding place.

As usual the section to the Devil's Staircase was trickier than I remember. The whole race is based on going up to come back down, so why do I always resent it so much on these three miles?

It was starting to heat up as I stomped up the hill. Norry was soon to overtake me. Giving the way he ascends, he'd be better off walking the race. I overtook another few runners on the way down to Kinlochleven - including Norry. I must have been quite sneaky, as he nearly shot out of his skin when I passed. I think I had the same response when Helen appeared by my side just before the town.



With Sonic on super-slick support, I was in and out of Kinlochleven in no time. JK's daughters later joked that Sonic had laid out all my food, drink and gear and all I picked up was a jelly bean :-) Actually it was a gel. I still had a full supply of jelly beans.

At the top of the last killer ascent, Helen and I were neck-and-neck. We were passing quite a few walkers and one lady asked Helen is she wanted a plaster for a her knee, to which she replied it was a just a graze and didn't hurt. I hadn't noticed, and I don't think she even realised that she would later need stitches. She was starting to mirror my moves, so I was having flashbacks from the WHWR with Adam. I know in a shorter distance on any other terrain, Helen would whip my ass. She even looks like a good runner. But in this race, I was going to have to rely on the miles in my legs to pull away. Of course, the miles in my legs could also go against me.

I started to build some distance, but there wasn't much in it. Although I felt good on Lairig Mor, the heat was starting to get to me. I was stumbling on the rocky path. As soon as the sun went behind the clouds and the breeze picked up, I felt reborn.

I was probably only a few minutes ahead of Helen at Lundarva and moved in and out swiftly. I saved my precious Coke for this checkpoint, which went down a treat. I passed a chap from Helensburgh, who looked burst. Looking back on the race splits, you'll see why. I was going to tell him I remember him for missing the start and racing to catch up at the Rouken Glen x-country, but thought it wasn't the time for humour or chit chat.

I knew I would have to work hard to get under 7 hours. That was all I was looking for after all. I felt pretty light and pushed on the hills. Thankfully the conservative start had left a bit in the tank. The newly cleared forest adds to the competition in this race, as runners can now see each other. As I hit the trail, I looked back and say Helen. It was just what I needed. I quite literally flew down the track, watching every minute tick by.

I saw the lovely Mrs JK just before Braveheart Carpark. I think I might have gasped something incoherent. By the time I hit the carpark I knew the sub 7 was a sitter, so I was more comfortable. I even had a few walking breaks. Hey, you've got to save yourself for the final sprint. Plus, sort you hair and wipe away the boggies for the pictures ;-)



I finished second lady (13th overall) in 6:56:35. Considering it was my 5th ultra this year, it was by the far the best I've ever felt in a race. Just one of those lucky days when it all comes together, I guess. I progressively moved up the field leg position at the three checkpoints were 23rd, 12th to 10th.

So for a last minute entry, it came with lots of benefits 1) Second lady - and my fourth podium finish in the race 2) A personal best 3) New club record 4) New ladies record for the Triple Crown and 5) I'm now leading the SUMS overall - for now! All in a day's work.



Click here for full reults. Huge congratulations to everyone who finished. Special mentions to Matt Williamson who was 1st (told you so, Matt), the Crazy German 2nd and the amazing Lucy Colquhoun who was third overall, 1st lady and smashed the ladies record by 64 minutes to finish in 5:47. Lucy was so far ahead that trekkers kept telling me I was leading :-) I don't think they believed anyone was that fast when I corrected them. Even Sonic thought she might have pulled out.

Thanks to Garry and Gemma for putting on a great race (and giving me a late place) and all the stewards on the day. Standing on the A82 on a sunny Saturday morning has got be over and above the call of duty. Thanks also to the lovely the man from the Wilderness Response Team who gave me water on Lairig Mor. I wasn't until after the race that the reality of cheery chap manning a tuck shop on remote Lairig Mor sunk in. Somehow in the heat of the day, that seemed pretty normal. Thanks to JK, Davie, Julie and Suse for the pictures and Team Kynaston for the videos. Thanks to JK for "keeping me honest" at the start and Helen for pushing me for the sub:7.

Huge thanks to Sonic for his superb back-up - again! Even after months of injury and no running he's been much more sane and tolerable than I would ever be. Although when I'm feeling a little low or flat, I buy new shoes. He bought a sports car! I'm holding out for an injury some time soon.

So, that's it. I've hung up my trail shoes for the rest of the year. I've been lucky enough to be selected for the Scotland 24-hour race team at the Commonwealth Mountain and Ultra Distance Running Championship in Wales next month. I'll be pavement pounding for the next weeks. Recover, taper, race...and then it's all over,

Forget raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens....

...these are a few of my favourite (ultra-running) things...





Hydration packs: If you're anything like me, you'll probably have a collection of backpacks and bottle belts. All with pros and cons, but your "perfect solution" hasn't been invented yet. The Nathan Trail Mix Bottle Belt is as close as I've got to my perfect solution. I've worn in on various training runs and races - including two 95-milers - and not have a bit of bother with it.

My latest "perfect solution" purchase is The North Face Women's Enduro Boa. Once you get over the initial shock of paying for it - retails at a healthy £85 - you will realise it's not your run-of-the-mill pack. I find it hard to find rucksacks to fit me (resulting in some serious abrasion) because I have narrow shoulders and zero boobage, but this fits like a glove and redistributes the weight just right. Plus the anti-slosh control (which essentially means there's internal wiring, controlled by a knob, which tightens the bladder) so no more annoying sound. The downside is the exterior storage pocket is made of mesh, so useless if it rains.


Waterproofs/windproofs: I've never been a fan of running jackets, but the man from Montane convinced me otherwise. As the title sponsor of the Montane Highland Fling, they sent me a box of goodies for being second lady. I know the Montane Featherlite range is highly rated among the hill running fraternity and now I know why. As the name suggest, it weighs next to nothing and takes up next to no space. Previously it was the rustle-factor that put me off waterproofs, but this is the same as a long sleeve - with added benefits

For the feet: I've dabbled with a few trail shoe brands over the years - including Brooks, Saucony and Asics - but I'm now a firm Inov-8 convert. Now I run in Roclite 275 GTX. They are lightweight (my old Asics Trabucos were like bricks) and provide good underfoot cushioning. The negatives are (in my opinion: the fabric tends to "burst" well before the end of the shoes shelf life; they ain't cheap; and I don't really see the need for Goretex (which adds to the expense) in trail running shoes. If it's wet, your feet will get wet anyway; And unlike bigger brands, don't change their products/colours often. Do you have any idea how troublesome it is to get gear to go with green shoes? Think pink and blue, Mr Inov-8 please.


I ordered Injinji socks from the US and few years ago, but thankfully you can now get them in the UK. I wear them on long runs and races and think they help a great deal. There's a little pocket for each toe, which eliminates skin on skin contact between your toes to prevent blisters from developing.

My latest little diamond of a find, was Flexitol Blistop. It was specifically designed to protect the feet from blisters and sprays on a like transparent second skin. After reading a review in Running Fitness, I used this for the first time on the West Highland Way Race. Anyone who was there (or has read my race report) will know how wet the conditions were. Sometimes it was like wading through rivers. My feet really only blister when they're wet. And in same spots over and over again. Well, I sprayed this very liberally (best to do it outside, as it's potent) and only got one small blister. I didn't get any on the Clyde Stride. When I say liberally, I mean the packaging says it provides 42 applications, but only TWO for me. It's worth it not to have problems with your feet during a race.

I may have fallen out of love with them a little bit earlier in the year, but I still rate lock laces for comfort and ease of changing shoes. Just don't wear them on a hilly run in the rain, as they allow wet feet too much movement. The result is very bashed toes. I'll stick with them in my road shoes in future.

I DO believe the hype about compression gear. I like Skins, 2XU and New Balance have a nice new range. I just wish someone would come out with something a little more girlie. Raidlight have got the right idea - their ladies range comes in nice girlie colours with lovely flower motifs. I know that sounds really lame, but it's quite boring when everything looks the same. Only problem is that even their smallest size tights are quite baggy. I like lots of support.

Love or loathe them, arm sleeves are the best things ever invented. Well, in my world they are. They're perfect for Spring and Autumn, when it's too cold not to start with sleeves and too warm to keep them on. Plus, you're not in and out of your rucksack on a long run, when the weather turns. I really like these sleeves by 1000 Mile as they've got the thumb holes. There's something quite strangely comforting about thumb holes, isn't there?

The gadgets: Although I love them, I don't have much luck with ipods. Actually, I think this I'm on my 6th or 7th. I doubt it will be my last, but so far it's the best. It's tiny, clips onto my waistband and has a multi-touch display and an inbuilt radio. I do like listening to the radio, especially in the morning.

My luck with Garmins, is not too dissimilar to that of the ipod. I've had a few Garmin Forerunner 205, but upgraded to the 310xt last year. It's fairly similar to the 205, but with a longer battery life - approx 18 hours, not the 20 hours it promotes. The best thing about this 310xt is it's ability to get a signal. Great for me, as a lot of my runs start in built up areas. Previously I could spend 10 minutes loitering on street corners outside my office. I was once propositioned on a dark winter's morning. How do think I paid for the upgrade? Just kidding :-)

Food on the go: I know this is very much a personal choice and what works for you might differ from run to run. I find it quite difficult to eat during races, but this is what works for me on runs. Wine gums are my sweet of choice just now. I used to opt for jelly babies, but went off them after a while. I'm also partial to a Midget Gems and Skittles. All of which are hard to eat on road runs and races, but great for a munch whilst stomping up a hill.
I also like gold old Scottish tablet. I tried it for a first time couple of years ago and thought it had magical powers. After I introduced the GM to wonder drug, she had to go one step further a discover Mrs Tilly Vanilla Fudge and Tablet. I kid you not, after 22 years of friendship, this is by far my favourite thing about the GM :-) Now we start most training runs with:..."just you, me and Mrs T".

When it comes to fluids, unfortunately I'm not a "could-murder-a-glass-of-water" kind of gal. Truth to be told, I rarely drink water. Ever. On runs I prefer sport drinks such as Lucozade or Powerade (whatever happens to be on offer when I do the shopping) and dilluting Ribena.

For a quick fix I like flat coke - sometimes with gas for a good burp :-) and for an even quicker fix, a Red Bull Shot. Looking back at this list, I feel suitable ashamed. What a load of rubbish. The funniest thing is going to do the shopping pre-race day and getting some really strange looks at the the supermarket checkout. Especially when you throw in a couple of Slimfast Shakes for emergencies.

My legs have threatened to cramp in a few races this year. All hot races. Zero Sport Hydration Salts are an anti cramp formula of electrolyte tabs and magnesium. They're tasteless, so you can pop thme in water or your sports drink.


From the medical cabinet...I have been regularly using (not just when needs must!) the same sports therapist for the last couple of years. He advocates pre-race deep tissue massages and applying Deep Heat prior to long runs and races. These days people smell me before they see me. And if, heaven forbid, you're in the same car as me, as you'll be breathing out of your eyes! For pain relief I like Nurofen Express. Gaviscon double action for indigestion, Sudocream to prevent skin abrasion and Resolve Extra for stomach issues (and hangovers!).

My nearest and dearest know I'm quite fanatical about suncream. I think it's stupid and childish knowingly let yourself get burnt. Especially when you know how much your skin can take. After spending 18 years in desert climates, my skin has had enough abuse for one lifetime. These days, I've been know to put protection on my skin when's raining...just in case. Let's be honest, in Scotland the weather is pretty changeable. Anyway, Banana Boat Sport is fabulous. It's non-sticky and sinks in within seconds, so there's no mess. It's also waterproof and lasts all day.

Last but not least, my other favourite ultra-running things are Mark Johnston's evil speed sessions and Nathalie Jones' nutritional plans. And, of course, the Ambassador of Deep Heat's (AKA Jan Mieszkowski) deep tissue massage.

Anyway, I've been meaning to write this blog report/list for ages, so here it is. If anyone has done something or would like to do something similar, please let me know as I would like post a link.

Fried on the Clyde

For me, there are four great things about the Clyde Stride 40: 1) It starts about two miles from my house 2) It starts at 9am, so I can get up at my usual 3) There's a drop-bag system - so no hassle with back-up - every 10 miles 4) And there are no uncomplicated, unnecessary race rules.

So after sussing out the course, I spent the days prior to the race checking out the forecast. After the unseasonably hot conditions of the Fling and the monsoon that was the WHW, I thought I deserved a break. The forecast was for no wind and light rain. Perfect.

The weather forecast lies. Fact. After some torrential downpours in the wee small hours, the clouds broke and the sun came out just in time for kick-off.

I arrived at race registration just after 8am. I had the joy of being allocated the number 69 (which was supposed to be 74), much to the amusement of bystanders. Mrs Mac (Race Director) had reallocated numbers to accommodate late entries the night before. I'm sure my number was computer generated, but Mrs Mac's joker-style response evoked my suspicion :-)

Participating in the race were lots of the usual suspects and even more new faces. Like me, there a few runners not-so-fresh from the WHWR. Nothing to moan about though, as the uber-awesome Lucy rolled up only days from her bronze medal at the IAU World Ultra Champs. Mmm I wonder if there are any other sports where the world champion's pre-race preparation involves darting across some waste ground - in the ghetto that is Partick - to pee behind a tree :-) Can't judge though, as I had to do the same thing four times. I'm not sure whether it's pre-race nerves or my pelvic floor not being what it used to be.



Mrs Mac gave out the race instructions and set us off. I'm going to guess there wasn't one person in the field who went off too fast. I reigned it in and settled into my usual plod. Ironically, focusing on not focusing on other runners. Even though my legs were tired, I still had to make a conscious effort to slow down. Not too slow though, as it's a flat road out to CP1 (Cambuslang) and I knew my pace would drop off for the off-road sections.

I was sauntering along through Glasgow Green, when I heard the remakes about "big-bottomed girls getting in the way" and knew the lovely John Kennedy was approaching. I ran (on and off) with John for the next 23 miles.



At the first checkpoint, I picked up a bottle of water and some tablet (which I actually ate). Mrs Mac was shouting "here comes 69", so I skooshed her with some water. Julie was on rubbish collecting duty and I skooshed her too - an innocent bystander - before I threw my bottle with a little more force than I thought I had - must be the new push-up app I'm using :-)



On to the next section, it was starting to heat up. The worse thing about running next to the river on a hot day is the beasties. I think I consumed my annual protein requirement in one morning. And I lost count of the the amount of times I had to pick things out of my eyes and ears.

After about 11 miles I could see the Gibbering Midget and I was closing the gap, which wasn't a good sign. The ITB had been playing up. Although she assured me she was doing ok, if guessed there was more to it. I pushed on before shouting a group of runners who had managed to go off course, even though there was a massive sign and they were actually running away from the river.

I ran in a group consisting of John, Bob, Richard and Bill for the next few miles. I made the innocent mistake of asking muscle-armed Bob if he works out. Cheesy I know, but I just wondered if it was down to being a farmer. Well, this gave John ammunition to mock for longer than my tolerance level would allow. He was nearly in the river :-)

Entering Strathclyde Park, Sonic was waiting with my drop-bag. I moved on quickly and then realised down the road, I'd forgotten what I actually wanted to pick. No worries though, as I wouldn't have eaten it anyway :-)

Heading through Strathclyde Park, I can safely say I was burst. I was hot and wilting. I just stuck my head down (it's easy to hide under a cap) and weakly waved at people cheering. Thanks to the kind cyclist who offered me a piece of his orange :-)

There are quite a few sets of steps on the course and First set of steps to climb were actually steaming. I kid you not. Thankfully there was intermittent cloud and tree cover for the rest of the day.

Crossing the field (why did I ever think this was mostly road?) I saw Bill jerking with cramp. I'm surprised it took him that long. For a skinny guy, he can fairly sweat. I could actually see the salt running out of him. Three relay runners came sauntering passed me. I felt a bit desperate asking them if they were in the relay, but you really couldn't tell who was relay and who was going to the full hog.

A short distance on and the great Richie C was resigned to walking and was throwing in the towel. I doubt it was because he's human like the rest of us - because we know he's not - but he's got bigger fish to fry this year.

I tried to eat some jelly babies, but was boking, so just tried to keep me fluids up.

I spent the next few miles watching Bob's back, disappearing through the tree-sheltered river trail. I was to overtake him at the next checkpoint, but I didn't see him when I did it, so always assumed he finished before me.

At Mauldslie bridge, the GM - who had also thrown in the towel - was waiting with Sonic and Cairn. I knew this was a B-race for her, so knew she wouldn't be too disappointed. She enthusiastically told me I was in second position. With relay runners flying about at the start and out of checkpoints, I never quite knew where I stood. Actually I didn't even believe it until Mrs Mac confirmed it at the end.

I felt pretty strong from then on in. Strangely the second half of the race was better than the first. Probably still slower and I had a fair few low points, but I didn't think anyone was going to pass me.

The route is fairly undulating (code for f-king hilly) after this. In wetter conditions, I'm sure it's pretty muddy and slippy too. With 9/10 miles to go, I passed another runner and my calves started to play up. I knew I was losing a lot of salt, as I could feel and see it on my skin. Thankfully my calves didn't full-out cramp. They just spasmed and tightened. Even so I couldn't risk changing my stride and proceeded to run up all the inclines.

I passed one of the relay runners that had passed me. She was doing a double section and from what she mentioned I think the doubler was more through necessity rather than being planned.

From there on I started to count down the miles. I was over it. It was such a relief to get to Muirkirkbank (2.5 miles to go!), although the journey to the otherside of the town was a whole lot longer than I expected. Back on the trail and up the final nasty hill. I was so glad that I was anal enough to finish off this section the week before, as I knew to look foward to the downhill bit.

On the descent, the lovely Jamie Aarons was out for a jog. She kindly asked if I wanted company for a bit and it was like music to my ears. We ran and chatted (although I think I just puffed!) and she left me to it at the last staircase. I knew the sub:6 hours was on, but I had to work hard. And I did. I gave it everything that was left in me. Granted that wasn't much, but it did the job.

I finished - and then lay sparked out on the grass - in 5:56. 2nd girl and 15th overall.



Well done to everyone who finished. When you look at the profile, it's cheekier than you think.



Guys results:
Paul Raistrick 4:44:44
Grant Jeans 4:53:47 2
Gavin Harvie 5:14:49 3

The relatively unknown (not anymore!) Paul took hot-favourite Grant Jeans to set a new course record.


Bob - do you think he works out?

Ladies results
Lucy Colquhoun 5:18:00 (5th)
Debbie Martin-Consani 5:56:55 (15th)
Judith Dobson 6:16:56 (19th)


Our champion, Lucy. Weighing in at 55lbs :-) I need to lay off the Mrs Tilly fudge

Thanks to everyone who put up with me on the day - especially John Kennedy. Although he "doesn't read blogs", so maybe I should get him back for his frequent jibes about the size of my butt :-) To Sonic and Cairn for patching me up and being my incentive to move my big butt to the next checkpoint. To all the fabulous stewards. Thanks to Davie, Karin and Suse for the pictures. And special thanks to Mrs Mac for putting on a great show. Although it is wrong to confess that I was slightly disappointed to see how well the course was marked? :-)

Clyde Stride recce

I signed myself up for the Clyde Stride (40 miles) this weekend. I doubt there's anyone out there who doesn't think this is a silly idea. Well, apart from Race Director, Mrs MacPirate.

To be honest, when I was doing half-arsed job of helping out and an even more half-arsed job of support - let's just say I was there! - at the race last year, I didn't think it was my cup of tea. Too flat. Too much road. And I'm just too lazy to run non-stop for that long.

Now that I covered most of the route, I take it all back. Once to get out of Glasgow (Shock! Horror!) it's actually really nice.


(The race starts in Glasgow and follows the Clyde walkway to New Lanark)

Call me unadventurous, but if the race is within ample travelling distance from your doorstep, it's worth the effort to move a few training runs. Like I did before the River Ayr Way Race last year, I like to cover the course before the race because:

1) In ultra-distance races - especially off-road - I believe the runner is responsible for their own navigation. There's only so much organisers and stewards can do to keep you on track. If you need someone to hold your hand round every corner, then best stick with the ParkRun. If you get lost, you've only got yourself to blame.

2) I'm not one for surprises. I like to know where I'm going and "see" the course before race. It's good to know where the nasty and nice bits are. I understand this is personal and lots of runners like to experience something new on the day.

3) Logistical errors add to the stress and in some cases can even ruin a race. How many navigational-fuelled tantrums have you seen on a course? Jeez, I've seen a few dummies spat on a 10K road race!

4) I can leave the maps behind and just concentrate on running and enjoying the race.

So, I split the course up in four training run chunks. All have their own little dramas. I've gone wrong in all them. When I retraced my steps and got back on course, I've always wonder how I managed to go off in the first place. Silly errors. You understand my recce requirements now?

The first run was to Cambuslang, which involved a detour around the Commonwealth games athletes village. Getting lost in Parkhead was not ranked high on my list of extreme adventures - but I did. I think I may have taken the longest way, but I got there in the end. Diversion signs are brilliant, until they just stop.

Second was Cambuslang to Bothwell Bridge, when I managed to veer off within about half a mile. I clutched the route description and map and followed it to the tee. When you're by yourself, you never quite know if you're going the right way. Thankfully with the river by my side, I knew you couldn't be that far off. But was it the right river? After circling a woodland area, I found the next section passed the David Livingstone bridge. I was approaching a nice couple out walking their dog and stopped to confirm I was on the right trail. The chap starting giving the "quickest way" direction until I cottoned on to the fact, he was sending me along the expressway. Quickest way indeed, but I took my chances with my instincts. And I was right. Although I did have to ignore the keep-out/danger signs and sneak through the scaffolding holding up a bridge. At Bothwell Bridge I took a wrong turn and followed the cycle route signposted to Strathclyde park. Huge mistake. After a mile or so, I realised the mistake and just about turned to the nearest train station. Lessons learnt.

Next run was Blantyre to Muirkirkbank and then on to Lanark Train Station. This time I had the GM for company. Two non-map readers are better than one. It was a scourching morning we when arrived at Patrick Train Station at 7am. As we approached the station, a group of young lads were exiting. Obviously the spill out from the night before. I would say they were about 13-years-old, but as Glasgow males are generally below average height, they were probably about 25. One turned to the GM and said: "nice shorts, hen" and then rendered her silent with "they'd look better on my floor!". Brilliant!

The run was great, but it was always going to be tall order two weeks after the WHWR. Navigationally (I'm not sure that's a real word), it was pretty uneventful. A few brief pauses to check maps.





Once passed Strathclyde Park, there are lots of Clyde Walkway signs, but they're in the most obvious places, where you couldn't possibly go anywhere else!

(picture pinched from google images)

I'd sold this run to the GM on the basis that it would be about 18miles (ish). 20 max. So when we were still running through woodlands at 19 miles, with no signs of exiting, I could feel the eyes burning in the back of my head. Her knees were playing up and she'd lost the will to live. Or at least she'd lost the will for me to live. Once through Muirkirkbank we asked a chap for directions to the train station. When asked if it was far, he paused and said: "eh, about three....(F**k I'm in trouble)...quarters of a mile". Phew!

I know I'm anal, but last week I went out to do the last few miles to cover the route. It should have been a two miles out and back (four in total) but I took a few dizzy turns and then couldn't find the finish. I could see it, I just couldn't get to it. After passing the same builders three times, I caved and phoned Mrs MacPirate. I'm glad she saw the funny side. And at least it's one less lost runner on Saturday. Although I won't recommend that anyone follows me.

So, it's taper week again. Good luck to everyone running on Saturday. I've just seen a picture on Facebook of Mrs MacPirate out vandalising the countryside, so it should be well marked.

The Dream Nineteen

I really wanted a sub:20 hour West Highland Way Race. Strange to think that when I first attempted this crazy race in 2008, all I wanted to do was break 24. This year's training and build-up races (if you can call a 100K road race and the Highland Fling build-up races) had gone well and I was fired-up and mentally ready for it.

When it comes to ultra-running, I think you’ve got to rely on a large dollop of luck and factors that are out with your control. And thankfully lady luck was on my side. I started feeling fit and injury free, the conditions suited me perfectly (apart from a few brief interludes) and my long-suffering crew were the best. The ingredients for the perfect race recipe. My race was less than perfect, but it ranks highly on my all-time favourites. I’ll TRY to keep it brief, as I realise I’m a bit late in the day to come at this. Jeez, the ladies winner has already completed three races since last weekend, but we know Kate the Great is part machine.

This was the fourth time than I’d experience the bustle of Milngavie at 1am. First time as a 30+hour completer, once on support duty and last year finishing in 20 hours. I’d like to think I’ve seen the race from a few perspectives. Regardless of how many times you see the start, it’s still quite overwhelming. I liken it to watching someone give birth on TV. It all comes flooding back.

The lovely Alison B and George were my back-up for the nightshift. After registration, weigh-in and race instructions the countdown began.

I started off slower than slow. Quite uncomfortably slow. I ran with Bob Steel (who had to finish the race to get back home to milk his cows at 4am) and Donnie Campbell (who was running an additional 90 miles to Skye to raise money for a local hospice). I felt like a total lightweight.

The field starts to split up pretty quickly, into pockets of runners. Focussing on footwork which is navigated by torchlight means the miles tick by and I was at Beech Trees in no time. The whispering cheers (now that’s an oxymoron) of support crews is always quite comical. Although I doubt the local residents get any sleep with the pitter-patter of hundreds of feet, torches and car doors and gates slamming shut anyway.

On to the narrow track to Drymen, I lead a group of headtorches. No faces, just torches. The front runner always get the raw deal, as the gates are hard work. No one took the hint when I was running on the grass verge to allow people to pass. No problem, but an acknowledgment or a thank-you for holding the gates wouldn’t have gone a miss. My two-year-old has better manners!

Getting to Drymen is like a vampire movie. When the sun comes up everything is calmer and more rational. Leaving Drymen I caught up with Richard Gilbraith. Fresh (or not-so-fresh as it turned out) from his amazing performance at the Marathon de Sables. It was nice to chat for a while, as I’m starting to soften to the idea of taking on this classic race...someday a long time away!

I’ll spare you the graphics, but my stomach had been playing up from the word go and a few miles from Drymen the emergency stops started. And pretty much continued until about 70 miles into the race.

The carpark at Balmaha (19 miles) was as crazy-busy as Milngavie. My plan was to drop off and pick up as quickly as possible at all checkpoints. George is super-slick on support. He’s quite literally all over. Amazingly committed and enthusiastic. He ran out to meet me, guided me to the car, spun my around refilled my supplies and sent me on my way. I’d asked for some Resolve to help settle my stomach. He cleaned out sports drink bottle, mixed it out, drove along the lochside and ran back to give it to me.

I played leap frog with Bob and chatted with Marc Casey for most of the way to Rowardennan. Looking back now, apart from a few more emergency stops, this section was pretty uneventful.

Into Rowardennan (27 miles), I saw Jamie sitting down next to her support team. Her ankle had let her down and she was calling it a day. She still flashed her All-American smile and shouted encouragementI changed into new trail shoes. I knew the course would be really wet and mucky up until that point and the next few (long!) sections would be drier. I was basically trying to keep my feet dry for as long as possible. Probably not the best idea to change into shoes I’d quite literally bought a few hours before the race. Thankfully I’ve never had any problems with new shoes. And they were a carbon copy of the ones I was taking off.

From Rowardennan, I stayed in third position, with the Gibbering Midget in second and Kate Jenkins in first.

I took a sandwich and sweets and hugged my crew. It would be a long time before I saw them again. I hooked up with Ross - who had to apologise for hurling abuse at me after initially mistaking me for the GM – and ran with him for the next 5/6 miles. After an hour of clasping a dough ball sandwich, I gave up and threw it for the birds. We later caught up with Andy, who like Ross was settling unfinished business from 2010. After a bit of chatting they discovered the reason they DNFd last year, was because they were racing each other into Bridge or Orchy and completely blew up. They mentioned they both just wanted sub-24. When I told them I was looking for sub:20 hours and they’d smash their expectations, they dropped back a bit.

Into Inversnaid, the lovely lady from the Trossachs’ Search and Rescue Team replenished my baby wipes supply. Thank heavens. It was like déjà vu catching JK. On his backside. Eating. James Quigley – and now fellow Garscubian - was there too. I picked up some supplies as quickly as possible to escape the midges, and headed out with JK. Passing JK on the lochside is becoming a bit of a habit. It would have been nice to run with him for longer, but he was starting his own battle. He went on to finish his fifth race, but not without a fight.

I really like the Lochside section and it was good to run with Graham for a while. WHW supremo George Cairns was his support for the day and his wife (Graham’s wife that is) was giving him leg massages at checkpoints. I felt a bit cheated :-)

Beinglas Farm (41 miles) – or Stargate as I call it – was quieter this year, as there was a drop bag operation in place to discourage support vehicles. It was lovely to see Ian B there and even nicer that he helped with my supplies, as my hands were no longer working. I took another sandwich – which again was fed to the birds - and headed up the hill with Dale and Drew, passing a less than cheery looking Mike R on the way.

This section is always a lot harder than it looks, but it was a comfort to know that I would see my crew again soon. And with the new additions Kas, Jill and Emma who were taking over from Alison and George.

Heading towards Coo-poo junction Kevin caught up with me. I was to see a lot of Kevin for the next 50 miles! It was Kevin’s 5th (and final, according to Mrs Kevin) attempt at the race, so I was glad to see 50 miles worth of him.

I then caught up with John (with the Geordie accent) and ran with him for a couple of miles. He had to call it a day last year, because of a stress fracture. I lost him on the descents. I was later to discover his knees were given him jip and caused him to slower considerable from there on in. He finished nonetheless.

Heading towards Auchtertyre Farm (50 miles), the long-awaited support point, I saw Big John (nobody knows why his name is affixed with “big”) from Sonic’s support sitting on a gate. Similar to the position I saw him in at the finish of the Fling, except this time he wasn’t shouting only a few hundred metres to go. I asked how Sonic was doing to which he wrinkled his nose and shook his head. I wasn’t long before I saw Sonic off the course all layered-up.

Readers of Sonic’s blog will know that it was a bit touch and go for him. Injury and a series of knock-on-effect injuries had him side-lined for a few weeks. He had barely run a step this month. The race was hugely important to him, but I’m sure not whether I thought it was brave or silly to start. Starting a 95 miles injured or not being 100% fit and focussed is a bit like drink driving. You might get away with for a bit and maybe even have fun, but you will soon be caught out. It was his first DNF, so I knew it would be hard decision for him. I was glad to hear, that at 48 miles, he’d called time (…before his wife caught him!)

I saw Emma as I approached Auchtertyre and it took me while to focus on what was on her T-shirt. This was the best surprise EVER. I could have cried when I saw them all. I gave me a right giggle and a much-needed boost.

I said my farewells to George and Alison – and probably didn’t thank them enough – and headed on the 2/3 mile “nasty section” to Tyndrum where I was planning on stopping for a proper supply top-up. It was no surprise that I was struggling to take on food. Kas had gone for a run, leaving Emma and Jill trying to force feed me and threatening the wrath of Kas. Even that didn’t work. Although Kas has a heart of gold, she’s got a tongue that makes me look like Hannah Montana.

I can’t even remember what I took, but I’m pretty sure I didn’t eat it. There were a couple of runners behind me, including Kevin. I was hoping he would soon pass me as I was in need of a comfort break. He must have thought my rubber necking was my competitive streak. The gap wasn’t closing, so I had to try to be as discreet as possible and hoped he too was starting to suffer from blurry vision. I doubt it was discreet at all.

Passing over the railway bridge I meet Gail and Steven coming in the opposite direction. It was so lovely to see them I stopped to chat for a minute and let Kevin soldier on.

On to Bridge of Orchy (60 miles) I checked in with Sean Lord-of-the Bridge and picked up a bottle of something and maybe some sweets. Who knows? The conditions were fairly mild, although wet and Sean has warned me that the hills and Moor would be cold and to take a jacket. I told him the gals were meeting me at Victoria Bridge and disappeared before he could make me change that decision.

The lovely Murdo was waiting at the top of the Orchy Hills with his old faithfully saltire, supply of jelly babies and never-ending smile.

The descent into Inveroran was fairly tricky. Not just because the rocks were wet, but I couldn’t get my eyes to focus properly. I ran with Dale on the road round to Victoria Bridge car-park. This bit is probably my least favourite bit on the whole course. And from the look on Dale’s face I guess he was thinking the same. Either that or his inability to shake me off was his least favourite part! My money’s on the latter.

Emma had come along to the corner to ask what I wanted in my bottle belt. It was pouring with rain and she ran back along with her hood up, zig-zagging across the road as a van was trying to pass. I nearly fainted trying to shout at her, but she couldn’t hear a thing. I’m not sure if she knows how close she was to being squashed.

On arrival, Kas was being her usually sympathetic self and cursing, shrieking and threatening blue murder if I didn’t eat. Her no bullshit approach to support is just what I need. I took some of her homemade banana cake and walked along whilst Emma tried to detangle the headphones for my ipod. I chuckled when Emma whispered: “Jill and I ate your sandwiches, so Kas wouldn’t shout at you”. You gotta love it. The banana cake was going down quite well to which I said: “Don’t tell Kas, but this is actually quite nice”. As we giggled, you could hear the shrieks in the background “Has she thrown that away? Has seen thrown that away?” That was my cue to get my butt moving and get out of there.

I really enjoyed the Rannoch Mor section. Nine hilly miles of vast exposure is not really the best on a driech day, but I’d added a new playlist to my ipod which put a spring in my step. Again, playing leapfrog with Kevin and Dale. Graham was not too far in front either.

Looking back, this was probably one of my favourite sections. Prior to race day, I hoped and prayed for no sun and I really got my wish. I’m not one for running with a jacket on, but I wore mine for the last 35 miles. I actually love running in the rain, so the conditions suited me. This was to be the calm before the storm. The descent into the ski centre (71 miles) was pretty jerky as my toes were bashed to bits. Flat were ok, but the downhills squashed them to bits. New shoes were no problem. Putting lock laces into the new shoes was a big mistake. They allowed too much movement. I think it would have worked OK if my feet were drier. Oh well, we live and learn. I just wish I hadn’t learnt this on race day.

Summer in Glencoe...



After Sonic’s retirement, my crew had now become equipped with some Walkie Talkies. Emma met me at the corner of the detour of the ski centre checkpoint and signalled to Jill and Kas that I was looking for 1) banana smoothie 2) babywipes 3) banana cake. Brilliant, eh? Until Emma came bounding across with only a slimfast shake :-)

My plan was to carry nothing and pick up some supplies at the bottom of the Devil’s Staircase. The four miles there were pretty uneventful, but I felt like I had 70 odd miles in my legs.

Jill with Babywipes: I think I might have made a bit of a drama about this :-)

I thought Jill had come along to meet me, but really it was to warn me that Kas was on the warpath. On arrival I was instructed to “stand there and not move until you’ve eaten this sandwich”. I wish there was a video of me running along Altnafeadh with Kas chasing me. I can still hear Emma and Jill laughing. Thankfully I wasn’t caught chucking the food to the birds, although I’m sure I could hear Kas shouting for some time.


(Kas on the chase!)

If I thought the ascent was tough work, the descent was even worse. I can safety say, this was my only real “struggle point”. But I wasn’t alone on this one, so I won’t moan. The path had turned into a river and I had no confidence as to where my feet were landing so was resigned to doing some ridiculous hopping and jerking action. I wanted to run, but I would have been better off walking. My feet were slipping about in the shoes so much and regardless of the amount of times I tighten the locks, the elastic laces allowed too much movement.

As I gingerly pussyfooted my way down into Kinlochleven, Kevin came passed and asked how far away it was. When I informed him it was about two miles, he had a mild tantrum about being able to see to the town. I felt the need to apologise, but it was still two miles away

I was bit grumpy on arrival at Kinlochleven and I managed to nearly strangle myself with tangled earphones. I think I must go into some kind of trance/tunnel/state of shock, as I don’t really remember being there. Although I remember I nearly left without anything and then repeatedly asked for my rucksack - which sent my crew in a frenzy – when really I wanted the bottle belt I’d left on the table. Oops!

On my way into Kinlochleven, Adam was on his way out getting stuck into a bag of chips - only in ultra-running. I caught up with him on the hill out of the town.

I’d spent most of the day catching up with guys that the Gibbering Midget has left in her wake. Some of their comments were quite comical. Adam summed it up quite nicely when he described her as “awesome and just keeps going” and “in the midst of all this awesomeness, just talks non-stop”. Although Adam got dealt another short-straw, as I asked him about million questions across Lairig Mor. I did say I wasn’t being nosey, just taking the focus off the situation.

I’d like to think I kept Adam going, but I think he was more hell-bent on not letting another girl beat him. He echoed me step for step. I ran. He ran. I walked. He walked. I didn’t even attempt to shake him off. It was actually quite nice to have some company for the final leg. And the fact that he was more gubbed than me perked me up a bit. Sorry, Adam!

Lairig Mor was long, but I was in better shape than I was last year when my ankles felt like I’d done a round with Kathy Bates. This year, my body was ok, but my fuelling was letting me down. I probably took on 2000 calories max and that was mostly sports drink and coke.

I stopped at Lundarva to change my socks and put on my road shoes. I’ve done this on a few races, so thought this was a good plan. Bad move as it wasted time and made my feet feel worse, as the socks were tight round my toes. Plus, Adam thought he was making a sly get away. Wrong! I caught up with him within half a mile.

I really enjoyed the woodland area all the way to the track. I could see two runners in front (Kevin and Mark Caldwell), but I didn’t have the inclination to care. I was just happy doing my own thing and working through it.

Starting on the track on the descent to Fort William, was like trying to wind up and old clock. There were various involuntary sounds and then I eased off and I was on the home straight. I focussed on staying positive and took the advice from Andy Cole and used the time to reflect on what I have achieved.
(Photo by Colin Knox)
Adam and I barely muttered a word of the next couple of miles. It should have been uncomfortably silent, but neither of us cared. Just before the beautiful sight that is the Braveheart Carpark, Emma was on the track full of excitement. She disappeared with the walkie-talkie shouting: “Right, girls, we’re bringing our runner back to the Mothership for a massive PB”.

Hitting the pavement for the final stretch was amazing. Especially when it was only 8.30pm! My gals passed in the car like a mobile hen do - complete with matching tshirts - screaming, cheering, honking horns and flying flags.

I was willing the 30mph sign to appear, mainly because Adam kept asking me how far to go :-) Some walkers were coming towards us in the opposite direction forcing me to jump on and off the pavement, which seemed a little cruel. As we rounded the bend I could hear and see the mini gathering outside the pub. I practically ran across the roundabout and along the road. Sonic’s crew were on the left and my crew on the right. I think I was smiling from ear to ear, but I’m not sure my facial muscles still worked.


Finished in 19.39:57. 3rd gal and 13th overall.

I may look totally shocked, but I was ecstatic. I’m now on the list of girls who’ve run sub: 20 hours.



I said I would try to keep it brief. I lied. If you’re still with me, thanks for reading. I’m glad I wrote this down now, but does anyone else get emotional writing race reports? Jeezo, I’m getting soft in my old age.

I don’t even know where to start with my thank you bit. First things first: My crew. Again, you were truly amazing...and so entertaining :-) Sonic and Team Sonic for chipping in at the end. The organisers, stewards, race officials, medics, search and rescue teams without them the race wouldn’t exist. It’s not like a 10K when you volunteer for a couple of hours. This is a full weekend’s commitment.





Congratulations to everyone who finished and who put up with me. Well done to the champions who put up a brave fight and those that were sensible anough to postpone their success for another year.

Some great performance from Richie (his second, well-deserved, win), Thomas (the diva moments were worth the huge PB), Kate (7th win. Yes, 7th) and the GM (who put the shitters up Kate to finish in an AMAZING time of 9hr 11) Click here for full results

The GM (2nd), Kate (1st) and Me (3rd)

I may have suggested I’m not doing the race again. Not because I didn’t enjoy it, because I loved it. I’m just not sure I can better it. Anyway, I’ve forgotten about that announcement already. Same time next year, folks?