Anglo-Celtic Plate 2011 (100K)

I've spent most of this week trying to compose this post, so I'm just going to summarise some thoughts and lessons learned - otherwise it could take me longer to write than actually run. You would have thought I would have had loads more time on my hands this week, but in reality it's just taking that bit longer to do basic tasks. Starting with 20 minutes to get down the stairs on Monday morning.

Well, I survived. Just. My hips have just about forgiven me and my calves have almost stopped screaming. In a nutshell, it was tough. Really tough. Although I'm still traumatised, I'm elated. I'm glad I pushed myself to try something new and it was an honour to wear the Scotland vest.

I finished in 9:03:09 which is an average pace of 8:44m/m

Click here for 50K and 100K results

You could skip the drivel and just click on JK's video below, it's much more entertaining. Don't forget the tea and biscuits though, as it's 35 minutes long.



Pre-race: I didn't taper as much as I should have, mainly because this race wasn't the be-all and end-all of 2011. I'm still not sure of my race plans, but I don't like to put all my eggs in one basket. Like most long-distance races, the training takes over your life, but when it comes to crunch time you always think it's never enough.





Expectations: Non really. As it was my first 100K on the road, the jury was out. 100K veterans are fairly keen to tell you their horror stories, which not only involve pain and fatigue, but tears and lots of vomit. I thought physically I could hold it together, but it was the mental aspect that I was most concerned about. My dream time was sub:9, but realistically I was hoping for 9-10 hours. I'm less analytical than may better half - who is still scrutinising D33 splits - but the Crazy (Scottish) German sent me a link to runningforfitness.org for a race time predictor based on my 2008 marathon time. I'd like to think I could better that now, but I based it on fact rather than fantasy.



Competitors: Although I was told I "looked nervous" quite a few times on race morning, I think I was more overwhelmed than anything. Looking at the starters list from other teams (I resisted the temptation to google them, as to not freak out), I knew I would probably come in last of the country runners, so I just concentrated on running my own race.

Course: 42 laps of a very flat 1.5mile loop in North Inch Park. In hindsight, I learned that laps aren't actually that bad. I'm not saying it didn't do my head in. Far from it. But it didn't really take it's toll until I was 30 laps down. Although Adrian informed us at the pre-race briefing that counting laps was just mental torture, I just couldn't help it.

Conditions: Perfect. We couldn't have asked for a better day. Glorious, fresh and sunny. The flip-side to the rare sight of spring, was that families, dog walkers, skaters and cyclists were out in the hoards. There was even a football and rugby game going on in the middle of the course. It was like running in a goldfish bowl, with nowhere to hide. I even saw one of the English girls getting hit square-on by a rugby ball. Thankfully most people were really courteous and accommodating - or maybe it was fear of the snottering zombies coming anywhere near their kids.

Pacing: Started out very conservative, running with the uber-experienced, Pauline Walker at the back of the pack for about the first couple of hours. I pushed on and started picking off a runners in the open race. I haven't seen the splits yet, but from the laps times that Sonic supplied, I was steady at the start, picked it up in the middle and then the wheels started to come off in the last 10 laps. I wasn't alone, as I was passing runners who had lapped me a few times at the start. During the last five laps, I was pretty sure I wasn't going to get sub:9, so lost my drive and just concentrated on finishing. If only I knew how close I would be to it. To be honest, at the time, I gave what I had.



Pauline is the Scottish 24-hour record holder (130+ miles!) and nothing sort of phenomenal. Where most runners fell across the finish line like something from Dawn of the Dead, she crossed and sauntered along like she had just strolled out of Marks and Spencer.



Food: I still can't get my food right. Even more so on a race that requires a bit more constant effort. I managed two bars of tablet and then would only consider coke and sports drink after a few hours. Sonic tried to get me to eat a sandwich, which I spat out in front of a horrified family. Actually the vast majority of the things he gave me, ended up in the bin. I ran out of energy after about five hours and just got through on determination.



Cramps: This isn't something I've ever suffered from. My legs didn't cramp, but my calves were pulsing for the last couple of hours and I keep expecting them to spasm. It wasn't sore, just concerning. Actually my legs felt OK most of the time. I was trying to pull myself together by reminding myself of this. Pete - there was a lot of foul language and warrior talk.

The finish: This probably ranks has one of the happiest moments in my life. Not for the achievement, but for the total relief.





Team Scotland: The guys did really well. Craig Stewart won the race and helped secured the first team prize. As I was lapped quite frequently by all five guys, I can safety say they are all awesome. In the girls team is was no surprise that Gail Murdoch was first, with a massive PB to boot. Followed by Izzy Knox and then me. The Gibbering Midget had to pull-out after falling ill, which was awful. After training with her for the last few months, it was so sad to see her so upset. She's a real trooper though, so watch out for some unfinished business on the Highland Fling later this month.



And now to the thank you bit. There are so many people, I don't know where to start. Thanks for to the organisers and timekeepers, especially Val and Adrian. Thanks to everyone who came out to support and pick me up, especially JK, Katrina, the Pacepushers, Lady Sadie, Davie, Tim and Izzy. Huge thanks to JK for the video, which is the perfect keep-sake.

My biggest thank you is to Sonic for his top-notch back-up and for the support during training. Apparently back-up is "way harder than running". With short laps, I'm sure it's pretty relentless. I hope holding in that pee for nine hours doesn't cause any lasting damage, Sonic. Although I'm sure that's dramatic license. I've seen the video, remember :-)

Thanks, Anita

Another amazing creation.... I love it. Thanks, Anita.

All in a week's work

How do you taper? There is lots of conflicting advice, isn't there? This year started with cram-training because I was scared of undertraining. Then with the rapid increase in miles - mainly road miles - I was concerned about overtraining. Then I hit taper and someone mentioned the concept of de-training and then there was more panic.

Personally I like to knock back on the miles, but stick with some speed work. Not de-training, but possibly overtraining? Who knows?

Mon, March 14: 8 x 3 mins (60 sec)
6.58,6.52, 6.59, 6.29, 6.32, 6.55, 6.44, 6.41
Tues, March 15: 6 miles easy
Wed, March 16: 3 x 10 min (2 mins)
7.10, 6.58, 6.51
Thurs, March 17: Club session with 2 x 2 mile tempo
Fri, March 18: Rest
Sat, March 19: Rest
Sunday, March 20: Get this. I did 42 laps round the pond in Victoria Park. Even the ducks wanted to throw things at me. I thought it might help get my head round the repitition. It didn't. 12.5 miles all in. Although I felt so good doing a normal long run and being home for 10am.


Mon, March 21: 15 x 1 (30 sec)Average 6:30 - although the last one was 5:57!
Tues, March 22: 5.5 miles easy
Wed, March 23: 8, 6, 5 (90 sec) 4, 3, 2, 1 (60 sec)
7.11, 6.50, 6.58, 6.44, 6.43, 6.52, 6.07
Thurs, March 24: 5.5 easy

That's all from me, folks. I've hung up my trusty Garmin and my ipod for the foreseeable future. I just need to stop eating my supplies for Sunday now.

D33 in pictures

Congratulations to all who completed today's D33 Ultra on The Deeside Way in Aberdeen.

Click here for some race pictures

The race was won by Grant Jeans, who broke his own course record, in 3:29. Scott Bradley put in stirling performance breathing down the neck of the course record holder in 3:30. My Sonic came third, taking 20 minutes off his PB, in an amazing time of 3:38. In the girls race, Lucy Colquhoun took pole position in 4:05. Our all-American girl, Jamie Aarons was second in 4:24 and Claire Imrie third in 4:35.

Mothers' of multiples: I salute you.

I almost choked with laughter reading Andrew Lemoncello's weekly training diary. It all sounds very lovely. A wee run in the morning. Nap. Wee run in the afternoon. The bagel run on a Thursday sounds particularly exhausting.



Granted, Mr Lemoncello, you can run faster than I drive. But just by way of contrast, here's a day in my life. Wednesday being the example.

I got up before 6am to hit the pool before work. 100 lengths - front crawl no less. And it's a 25m pool, in case you think I'm splashing about in the spa. Ironically, I view this as my morning "off". I say this in the loosest term, as it means I do and sort everything the night before. Sonic has to dress and feed himself and Cairn, but still manages to be spectacularly late for work. 11.30am is the record so far. For a 9am start.

I'm out before 7.45am and at my desk for 8.30. First meeting is at 9.30 and the morning goes a bit t*ts up. I was supposed to meet the boys with the jet-propelled legs for a lunchtime speed session, but a few dramas later and I'm ten minutes late. Oh well, a lonesome 3 x 10 minutes with two minutes recovery. 8 miles all in.

Back to office, quick shower and I slide back into my office trying not to draw attention to the fact that I've been out for 20 minutes longer than the allocated lunch hour. I hope my employers are as lax about the concept of "lunch hour" as they are about the concept of "9-to-5".

Afternoon of juggling my department of one, which not only covers my own position but anything that no one else knows how to handle - namely readers of our beloved newspaper. I have many bizarre conversations which I tip-toe around in fear that a recording will reappear on some radio wind-up show. Note to self: Call switchboard to remind them that Newscastle is in fact not in Scotland.

Although I try to leave the office at 5:30, I'm bombing to the car at 5:50pm to pick up Cairn at nursery - which closes at 6pm. Sometimes I get the sweet satisfaction of not being the last parent there. Rarely though. I'm sure there's a Dad there that tries to race me.
On the five mile journey we sing songs from Cars (I’ve lost control of music choice) and get super-excited at the site of trains, buses, planes, ducks, trees and clocks. Quick detour via the petrol station and Tesco and I arrive at the front door laden door with shopping/gym/nursery bags, with my head doing 360º to make sure Cairn doesn’t make a run for it. And we’re home. Phew!

First of the evening duties is Cairn's dinner - home-made of course - which has to be eaten with the Buzz Lightyear Spoon and splashed on the carpets and smeared his hair.

Then it's bathtime, but not before I scrub the bath that Sonic used to clean the mud from his trainers that morning. The pre-bath ritual usually involves me chasing him (Cairn that is, not Sonic) and removing items of clothing which are deposited around the house. There's often a screaming match as I try to coax him into the bath. Once he's in and realises that soaking the floor is really good fun, there's often a screaming match as I try to coax him OUT of the bath.

I dry him whilst he clings to my neck and try to pin him down so I can apply lotions and put his pyjamas on. I liken it to trying to put shoes on an octopus. Then he has a bottle of milk, which he drinks very, very slowly, as he has wised-up to the fact cartoon viewing is over when it’s finished. Despite watching Cars/Toys Story/Thomas for the 715th time, it’s still compelling viewing for a two-year-old. NB: I also lost control of TV viewing.

When I tell Cairn it’s bedtime, he jumps round the sofa and hides behind the curtains. I draw him out by telling him there are "spiders in there!” to which he shrieks and crawls out. I rue the day that the spider trick doesn't work.

Story. Bed. Bliss? Not quite, now I have to answer all the missed calls from office and proof pages for the next day’s paper, which can keep coming until 10pm.

I make dinner, which is pre-packed vegetables with baked potato - nuked in the microwave - accompanied by a tin of tuna. Healthy, nutritious and requires limited involvement. Whilst said dinner is nuking, I clean the kitchen floor and sort out clothing for the next day.

After dinner, I’ve got a basket full of washing to do. Two runners and a toddler keep the laundry cycle pretty fluent. Then I tackle an ironing mountain, which is more challenging that some of the hills I run up. The only saving grace is that I can catch up with missed episodes of Glee.

Bed at 10.15… Me and Mr Tim Noakes… before it all starts again the next day. Thankfully I’m in taper for next week’s 62 mile race, as high mileage weeks are way more dramatic. Night, Mr Lemoncello. Good luck with your 26 miles. Look how we’ve reversed the digits

There's an old saying that goes...

If you want to run faster, you have to, erm, run faster. Simples? Well, these days I've been running slower and getting faster. Go figure.

I generally run 5/6 days a week and include a swim session mid-week. Friday is my beloved rest day. I do an easy/steady run on Tuesday and Thursday and weekend runs are as they say on the tin: long and slow. Now I reserve my effort for the spped sessions I do on a Monday and Wednesday. Focusing on two days really seems to be working for me. There's a little bit of zip in my happy-plodding pins.

Here are a few examples. Some of you speedsters may snigger, but this is good for me.

MJ's Wednesday session:8 mins (90 sec rec), 4 x mins (60 sec rec) and 8 mins: 7.08, 6.51, 6.51. 6.32, 6.27 and 6.52

Club Monday fartlek: 3mins, 4mins, 5 mins, 3mins, 4 mins, 5 mins: 6.58, 6.39, 6.53, 6.40, 6.57, 7.00

MJ's Wednesday session: 5 x 5mins (75 sec rec) 6.58, 6.47, 6.44, 6.47, 7.01

So basically by running slower, I'm running the fastest I have have ever run. But guess what? In two weeks time, I'll be back to square one. Simples?

Waterboarding, anyone?

As some/most of you will know, my next race is the Anglo Celtic Plate in Perth at the end of the month. Some of my trail-loving friends may find it hard to comprehend the idea of 100K on the road. Flat road at that.

To be honest, it's not something I would have willingly signed-up for, but to wear the Scotland vest is not an opportunity I can pass up on. But for those who remain aghast at the concept of 62 miles on tarmac, please allow me to delve into the true layers of horror.

Firstly it's a 1.49 mile lap. Now, I'm not good with maths (terrible, in fact) but I knew that was a lot of laps. 42 in fact. Ultra-running supremo, Jez Bragg informed me that it was "42 opportunities to eat, drink, change kit, lap up the atmosphere from the roaring crowds". Personally, I think that’s 42 opportunities to throw myself in the river!

Then I was informed all GPS and pacing devices are prohibited. I haven't run without a Garmin - even when I was preggers - for about five years. I'm not sure my feet will work without it. Thankfully we're allowed to wear a watch and I had the sense to go pace the course last month.

There are also strict rules about feeding/supports stations. Runners must pick up and drop off at the tables only. Support can't move along with the runner, which is incidentally what I was going to get Sonic to do.

The race starts at 7am on a Sunday morning. Now I quite like an early start, especially for travelling home afterwards. But the day chosen for the race is the day the clocks go forward, so really it's 6am in my head. I probably won't sleep for worrying about what the real time is.

And finally, runners are also prohibited from using ipods, MP3 or similar devices. Of course I discover this three days after buying a new ipod nana with inbuilt radio - specifically for this race. All not lost, as I'm sure I will make good use of it. But really? 62 miles of just me. Alone. With only my crazy thoughts.

Next time I'm going to opt for waterboarding as a more humane and civilised form of torture.

...and then the postie delivered my lovely new kit, and all is forgiven and forgotten. I've put in the miles (I think!) and I can't wait.

Taper time, folks. Don't you just love it?

Ginger Ninja's tour of Scotland

This was to be the pièce de résistance. A 45 mile run on the number seven cycle route from Prestwick to Glasgow. Not exactly inspired, but it ticked all the boxes. Flat (well, for Scotland), tarmac and long.

The downside to road running is the lack of wow-wee scenic moments, but the advantage is you don't have the same logistical/travelling issues. For a point-to-point run, you can just jump on one of the frequent trains, go as far as you want and run back. Simples. For WHW runs, half the battle is the organisation.

I got the train from Glasgow and the Gibbering Midget got on at Kilwinning. The route we were running, winds pretty much parallel to the train tracks. It was quite unnerving to know it took Scotrail's finest 50 minutes to cover the same distance we would be running.

Off at the breezy coastal town of Prestwick, first stop was the al fresco powder room, as the GM duly announced "sitting on vibrating things make me need to pee". You gotta love her innocence.

We started running on the promenade along the beachfront...until it run out. We knew we were heading in the right direction, so made a detour along the beach and then across the golf course (all part of the adventure) until we got to Troon. Then it was clearly signposted and we were on our way.




Despite previously posting the weather forecast, we were really lucky. A bit breezy by the coast, but when is it not? Lots of glorious sunshine and only a few showers. And as a double bonus, apart from a undulation between Irvine and Glengarnock, it was pretty flat. We thought we'd won a watch.

The GM had stashed a drop-bag of supplies at Glengarnock (25 miles), so we had a pit-stop and a refuel on sandwiches and coke. Followed by unladylike belching and yelps as we got going again.

On through Lochwinnoch, Howwood, Johnstone and off at Paisley. We took the most direct along Glasgow Road passed Bellahouston Park.

Still feeling good, but we didn't taking into account that is was high-school throwing out time. Gobby wee boys and muffin-topped giggling girls were quite testing when our tolerance levels were at an all time low.



Just before 4pm we hit 45 miles at the Squiggley Bridge in Glasgow's city centre. 6 hrs 41mins. Average pace 8.55m/m. I doubt there will be many times we can say we ran through three Scottish counties. Starting in South Ayrshire and taking in North Ayrshire, Renfrewshire and finish in Lanarkshire. Magic.

The Clock Keeps Ticking

Just finished reading Sharon Gayter's biography. It's a great read for anyone interested in distance running. It's also a really good story, even if you're not that way inclined.



After reading this, I'm quite glad I'm doing a 100K road race. It's a classic distance for an ultra-runner. Something quite measurable. I'm also half-heatedly started searching for a 24-hour event. Although next month's race may knock that idea on the head.

A lot of you will know some of the Scottish nutters mentioned in this book: Adrian Stott, Alan Young, Don Ritchie, Murdo McEwan, Pauline Walker, William Sichel to name a few. Murdo - what is that flapjack recipe laced with? Gotta get me some of that :-)

So far, I've had another good week. On Monday night I made my debut appearance at the club's fartlek session. It starts quite prompt at 6.30pm, which is usually a bit tight for me. I work at home on Mondays (which, in reality, is a lot less pleasant that it sounds), so I rely on Sonic getting home from work in time. Anyone who knows Sonic, knows punctuality is not is forte. Except on Monday he made a special effort. Although it did involve a faster warm-up to get there by the skin of my teeth.

I really enjoyed the session 3mins, 4mins x 4 - with 2 minute recovery. A more generous recovery than I'm used to these days. Coach Johnston doesn't believe in such lenghty slacking-off. I forgot to set my watch for the first rep, so just didn't bother for the rest. I pretty much gave it my all, so Tuesday's 8-miler was a bit rusty.

On Wednesday it was back to Coach Johnston whip-cracking speed session. 6 x 5 mins with 75 second recovery. 6.59, 6.58, 6.47, 6.44, 6.47 and 7.01.

Today I'm enjoying a wee rest day and a pasta lunch at Jamie's before embarking on a 45-miler with the Gibbering Midget tomorrow (Friday). Check out the weather forecast. Should I blame Sod's Law or Sharon Law?

It was worth it to Perth it

After last weekend's exertions, I assumed I'd feel a little worse for wear at the beginning of the week. Not just fatigued, but I expected to hurt. Apart from looking and feeling like I could be cast in Dawn of the Dead on Monday morning, I was generally OK.

On Tuesday I did an 8-miler. No idea what pace it was, just nice and easy and comfortable. I suppose I was assessing the damage. Everything felt fine, so on Wednesday I decided to do the session with the boys with the jet-propelled legs. I started a wee bit early with the view to them bombing passed me somewhere near the end. I must have felt ok as I never even caught a glimpse of the boys with the jet-propelled legs.

8mins (7:08), 6mins (6:55), 4min (6.38), 3mins (6:50), 2mins (6:41), and 1min (6:10). I was pretty encouraged about how comfortable this felt.

On Thursday night I went along to the club, which was billed as an easy run ahead of the National X-Country. A show of hands at the pre-run briefing highlighted that only three of the 60 or so there were actually doing the Nationals though. Thanks, guys. I ran up to the Garscube estate and back home afterwards to clock another 6 miles. I sauntered round the 6 mile route with the lovely Emma. You know you're not exerting yourself when you spend the time house spotting/nosing and talking wedding chat. Emma, one half of Garscube's answer to Barbie and Ken, is getting married in May. It's the week after the women's 10K, so we talked about having Emma and club girls dressed-up as bride and maids.

Friday, rest day. On Saturday morning,the GM and I headed to Perth to recce the 100K course. It was an early rise, as we had to get the laps in before scooting over to the National X-country in Falkirk. Yep, a 170 mile round trip to run 10. It was kinda like Thelma and Louise, but with the life sucked out of it. And that was before we step out of the car into horizontal sleet. Deeply unpleasant. After seven laps I'd lost the will to live. Speaks volumes, doesn't it? Only 35 to go.... It was worth the trip though. I like to know the course, to go over it in my (crazy) head. And as Garmins are prohibited on race day, I can work out pacing according to lap times. Allegedly.

It's safe to say, it's a pretty flat course...



Then it was off to Falkirk to meet up with Sonic and Cairn. I took some pix of the Men's' race. Click here if you fancy a peek.

The races are seriously competitive, with the creme de la creme out show. It was the first time I'd been to the event and it was awesome viewing. Comical to see that the further up the front the runners are the skinner they are, the less clothes they were wearing (in close to freezing temperatures) and the more snot and gob they had on their faces. But my god, they can fairly shift it. It's not for the faint hearted. Seeing some of the facial expressions made me understand why Gary-Next-Door (and captain of Clydesdale Harriers) says ultra-runners "show no emotion". Granted, it's less fierce, but when I'm blubbering, hallucinating and hurting from the eye-lashes down, I tend to display a lot of emotion. And a snotty nose is the least of my worries.

Sonic ran a belter and came in 90th overall.



On Sunday morning, it was Sonic's turn to be up and out sharp, as he had planned a Kilpatrick hill run with JK and Bob. Normal people might kick-back with a fry-up and the Sunday papers, but I used the morning to get on with a long-list of domestic chores.

When Sonic got back, I went for a steady 10-miler round the west end. Poor Cairn really is a relay baton these days. He probably thinks his parents have separated and nobody has told him.

Thankfully the sun made a rare appearance on Sunday afternoon, so we got to go to the park. You know your son hangs out at too many races, when he shouts "Ready. Steady. Go!" at all the runners passing by.

Road to Nowhere

When the folks in the office asked about my plans for the weekend and I replied: "mainly running" I was met with the usual eye-rolling response. To be honest, I don't think they understood that I would quite literally be, eh, mainly running.

One of the big plans for training for the 100k, was to do two fairly lengthy back-to-back road runs. Granted I've done a lot of training on the roads, but nothing over 20 miles. I was quite apprehensive about the weekend. Not because of the distance, but what the terrain would do to my pampered pins.

On Saturday's 37 mile circuit, we kinda cheated and took in about 9 miles on the WHW, but ran up all the cheeky hills - and the "b*stard" ones too. It turned out to be a cracking day and we knocked out the miles quicker and more comfortable than expected.



36.5 miles. Time 5:28. Average 9.03m/m



Sunday's run from Kilbirnie (after leaving Cairn at Gran's for the morning) to Glasgow was a bit rusty to start. Even the Gibbering Midget wasn't gibbering. The weather wasn't the best and the thought of 20+ miles on the number seven cycle track didn't have a huge appeal, but needs must. After about 6/7 miles we got into our groove and, again, the time zipped by. We finished quite strong and in high spirits, so that was a real confidence booster. Road running isn't quite so scary after all.

20.5 miles. Time 3:08. Average 9.17m/m


The GM and I run really well together and I doubt the weekend would have been remotely enjoyable without the support. I know I hold her back most times, but she never lets on. She is the epitome of mind-over-matter. She does have quite spectacular fuel dips though, but a quick sugar stop and she's off like Cocaine Kate. It's quite awesome. Definitely made in Scotland, from girders.



I'm working well with my nutrition plan. Previously when I'm down, I'm out. But I'm focusing on keeping topped up from early on. Making a conscious effort to take in some sports drink and sweets every six miles and not waiting 'til I'm seeing stars. At which point, I can't eat anyway. So far, so good, but I suppose race day will be the tester. Any advances on four jelly babies over 53 miles would be a bonus.

You don't have to be unhinged, but it helps.

Well, it's been all go in the Consani household. Sonic is now being sponsored by The National Stadium Sports Health and Injury Clinic and I've been selected to run in the Anglo Celtic Plate International in Perth in March. Essentially that means Sonic has full use of their facilities and gets to run to exhaustion, half-naked, whilst wearing a mask and I get to run round in circles for 100K. Magic.

So, the last few weeks I've been cranking up the miles. Of the pavement plodding variety. Apparently it's frowned upon to stop for a photo opp and a pick 'n' mix. Thankfully the Gibbering Midget is also on the team, so we've been training together. For club and country, we've had to tone down our specialist subjects of: boys, clothes and make-up for more somber discussions on training plans, routes, logistics and splits. Dear god, we're starting to sound like Sonic and the Crazy German.

To be honest, I'm kinda winging it. I've known about the race for a few months, but never thought much of it. With nine weeks from selection to race day, there's only so much I can do. And that's got to include a 2/3 week taper.

I've had a few great runs and a few bombers. 35 miles being the longest so far. Thankfully that fell into the great run category. I even attempted some circular repeats - this is now my technical term for running in circles. I found a one-miler close to home and ran round it 10 times. Man, that was tough. For once I found it hard to control my pace. The overwhelming urge to get it over with definitely outweighed the enjoyment.

I figured some of the training I would be doing could be quite monotonous, so I decided to put some audiobooks on my ipod. The first book being Michael McIntyre's biography. It's well worth a read, or in my case a listen. I was chocking with laughter whilst running round in circles last Saturday...nee naw, nee naw.

So back to winging it: This weekend the GM and I are running 35 on Saturday and 20+ on Sunday. You don't have to be unhinged, but it helps.

Ultra-running: For fat people who can't run very fast? Indeedy

Thanks to Murdo for sending me this. Made me right giggle, so it did. And saved me actually writing a proper post.

I am an ultra-runner

Running Vs Jogging

The Nutrition Transition

I'd like to think I'm a healthy eater. I like fresh, colourful food and (unless full of beer) greasy make me queasy. I'm not a must-have-chocolate-everyday kind of girl and crips just don't cut. My downfall is sweets. And picking. BC (before Cairn) I was out most evenings, generally training, but now I spend most evenings at home - too close to the fridge. It's not usually out of hunger or boredom, more just because it's there. If it wasn't for the fact that I work full-time, you could probably run reps round me!

I make more of an effort with food, but I know I'm not a healthy drinker. And that's not including the wine. I hydrate on coffee, tea and Pepsi Max. I very rarely drink water. Not because I don't like it, I just don't get to the "oh I could murder a glass of water" stage.

When it comes to eating and drinking during training and races, that's where I really suffer. I could probably list from memory exactly what I ate during the four ultras I did last year. For example, during the 53 mile Highland Fling, I ate the grand total of four jelly babies. I overcompensate with Lucozade and Coke, which generally leaves my bagged-up. You know I don't do toilet chat, so that's as graphic as it's going to get.

So in a vain attempt to start the year's training/races on the right foot, I went to see dietitian Nathalie Jones, who's based at Achilles Heel on Sundays.

There's just so much conflicting advice out there: You need carbs for energy, but carbs make you fat. You need protein for recovery, but runners eat too much protein. Sugar's bad for you, but sports drinks will make you run longer/faster/better. Runners need dairy to fend off osteoporosis, but milk gives you runner's trots. Run on empty to train you body not to hit the wall, don't run on empty or you'll risk muscle breakdown and long term fatigue. It's a mindfield out there. And that's before you take into account fad diets and bogus supplements.

Prior to the appointment I had to submit a training plan and food diary. Basically everything I ate over four (average) days. It's amazing seeing what you consume in black and white. And more so, I was very conscious of how much I pick and eat mindlessly. And that was me "randomly selecting" the good days :-)

The one-hour appointment with Nathalie was very insightful. The plan essentially goes back to basics and seems relatively easy to follow. OK, I've only been doing it for three days. No calorie counting or weighing, thankfully. It's all based on portion sizes. Upping my carbs and dairy and using protein for after exercise.



I'll actually be (well, consciously) eating more than I'm used to and should keep my weight steady, without having to have really good days to compensate for the really bad days. Losing 5/6 lbs would be a bonus though.

Let the fun and games commence

The Marcothon is finished. The parties are over. My house looks like Hamley's. I've acquired a muffin top. And I'm on the wagon. It must be a New Year then.

It started so well, with a nice big thaw of the snow and ice. Yay! And now it's creeping its way back in. My long-overdue return to club training last night, involved six miles of treacherously icy pavements, with some gobby neds in Maryhill thrown in for good measure. Oh joy.

I hope it doesn't overstay its welcome this time, as I really need to get some sort of training - which doesn't involve plodding - in. I did my first session in over a month on Wednesday. I would say speed session, but I fear you may laugh. Let's split hairs and just call it a session with effort.

The last (published) of Johnson's Joggers training plans went out the window - along with my mojo. But I'm all fired up and ready to start my new schedule. I'll post it later this week, but here are the lunch speed (ok, effort) sessions.

w 08/01 - 18, 8, 6 (90 secs)
M 10/01 – 8 x 3mins (1min) [canal - kelvin]
W 12/01 – 2 x 1 mile hill loop (2mins) + 7 x triangle hill sprint (continuous)
M 17/01 – 20min tempo + 6 x 200m [kelvin & kelvingrove park]
W 19/01 – 4 x 6mins + 1 x 3mins (90secs) [canal - kelvin]
M 24/01 – 15 x 1min brisk, 30secs steady fartlek [kelvin]
W 26/01 – 3 x killers [kelvingrove park]
M 31/01 – 4.8 mile out & back tempo [canal]
W 2/02 - 2 x 8mins (90secs) + 4 x 2mins (75secs) [canal - kelvin]
M 7/02 – 2 x 1 mile hill loop (2mins) + 8 x triangle hill sprint (continuous)
W 9/02 - 3 x 12min (2min) [canal]
M 14/02 – 15 x 1min brisk, 30secs steady fartlek [kelvin]
W 16/02 - 8, 6, 4, 3, 2, 1min (90secs after the 8 & 6 then 1min) [canal – kelvin]

I still haven't really done any long runs, which I'm getting slightly concerned about. I had a second stab at the Mingavie-Drymen out and back (24 miles) last week - with Sonic, the GM, JK, Crazy German and unstoppable Mister C. Disaster number two. The big thaw hadn't quite reached surburbia. It's only five miles up the road, but it was like stepping into a parallel universe. Exaggerated by the sight of Richie in a pair of Pantyhose. Under Armour, Rich. The clue's in the name :-)



So on to the West Highland Way we went, which was the first mistake. It was like a rink. Second mistake was going with a Kahtoola/yaktrak clad group. My ice grippers were worn down after a month of pavement pounding and were what I described as "f*ck all use to anybody!". After a very frustrating seven miles of cross-country/field running, I threw in the towel and about turned. A wise choice, as without the grip 14 miles was tough enough. I was feeling pretty sorry for myself and my legs were knackered.

I was glad to get to the car and remove my sodding-wet socks and shoes. A great excuse to put on my lovely new Hunter wellies. Hey, it's been a least two postings since I mentioned new shoes.

I picked up Cairn earlier than expected (bonus) and decided to go shopping (double-bonus). Can you imagine the above outfit teamed up with a skelping red face and a pair of wellies? Now imagine the look on the faces behind the Estee Lauder counter at Frasers when I appeared waving an over-eager credit card. I'm sure Cairn was just pretending to be asleep.

I got home to discover the postman had tried to deliver my new Kahtoolas. I would have been miffed if it wasn't for the fact that when I went to collect them, the company had sent a pair of large microspikes in error - which, again, would be "f*ck all use to anybody".

All was not lost though, as a self-administered big dollop of TTFU and I went out and ran the missing 10 miles. I would not be beaten.

Then came the Marcothon Grand Finale. I was kind of sad to see it end, as it was what kept me (and many others) motivated throughout the weather chaos. I met and was encouraged by lots of great people along the way - the usual maddies and some real troopers. I organised a last-minute small group run in Pollok Park, which was a nice way to end it.



We even had a Marcothon proposal! See the Subversive Runner's blog for more details.

My first run in 2011 was on the Kilpatrick Hills with the Gibbering Midget. The aim was to meet in Old Kilpatrick at 8am. The GM was out on the vino the night before, so I was half expecting a call off. I was woken by a text message, which I thought was said call off, only to read: "Is everything OK?" and I then noticed it was 8:15. F*********ck!! Even Cairn, who's my back-up alarm, was still sound. I was up, half-dressed and out in minutes. I didn't even brush my teeth, but used the mouthwash from the glovebox (ok, it's an Aygo, so it's more of space where the glovebox should be) which I swirled round my mouth and spat out the window. If I had been more awake, I would have realised when driving at 50mph that it was obviously going to come back in and hit me. I got there just before 8:30, minty-fresh and slightly startled. First stop was the al fresco powder room.

Thankfully the run was well worth the panic. Amazing views and the terrain wasn't the usually marshland, so I finished with semi-dry feet. And ready to murder a coffee.

Happy New Year everyone :-) My (small) Kahtoolas arrived today.

Merry Christmas

It's a Marcothon, not a sprint

We're now into the fourth week of our winter white-out and according to the forecast it's here to stay for the foreseeable future. Joy. It has pretty much disabled the entire country. And in true British-style, the weather is the favourite topic of conversation. Michael McIntyre summed it up during the Royal Variety Show last week, when he said the snow has become the news. National news: It's snowing. Sport: It's snowing. Weather: Well, it's snowing. The news where your are: It's snowing there too.

Who would have thought we would - well, most likely - finish the Marcothon in the same conditions we started? At first we all moaned about the snow. Then it stopped snowing and left an ice rink. Then we wished for the snow to come back. Now all we need is rain, which will no doubt give us something else to moan about. In true British Style.

Day 23 of the Marcothon and although I'm underwhelmed by the prospect of stepping outside most days, I'm overwhelmed by the response and enthusiasm of those involved. Nearly 300 recruits. There have been a few DNFs - although I'm sure there have been a few more than those who have confessed to bowing out. No wonder, it's been a tough one. There have been daily postings of hangovers, tantrums, tumbles, triumphs, struggles and lovely winter wonderland photos. Pictures which always look beautiful on screen. Not so beautiful when your ears are in danger of falling off.

There has been a little bit of rule bending, but who cares? It's all about the personal achievement and pushing yourself a little more than you normally would. Especially in the lowest ever temperatures recorded in December. Well, in Scotland anyway.

To be honest, if it wasn't for the Marcothon I don't think I would have bothered. I know it's good training, especially for mental toughness, but I'm also looking forward to:

1) Running under 8m/m
2) Not having to stop to help someone push their car
3) Turning corners without slowing to a shuffle and holding onto to a fence/lamp-post
4) No impromptu Saturday Night Fever moves, when my foot slips from underneath
5) No involuntary whooping and squealing
6) No more jaw-drop gazes from eyes that are just willing you to fall
7) Not having to start-stopping 10 feet from the kerbside
8) Wearing road shoes. Or anything that doesn't involved studs, spikes or grip
9) Being able to feel my face. And being aware that snot is running down it
10)Realising that shorts over tights is a ridiculous look. But my ass is freezing.

Not only has the Marcothon attracted record-holders, ultra-distance race winners, and even some running "celebrities", there are some real humbling stories. Ann McLachlan was stuck in hospital and used the four-hour a day when she wasn't linked up to a drip to complete the distance/time by stomping round the hospital wards and stairwells. How's that for dedication? One chap started the journey on a treadmill on a oil rig in the north sea and another hasn't even done a 10K - yet!

Given the conditions, it's just head's down and plodding. No sessions and no big runs for me. The most I've run is 17 miles with the Gibbering Midget. Even then we planned to run 25 miles on an out-and-back from Milngavie to Drymen. We almost threw in the towel at the car park, but managed a slippery seven miles before we about turned and did a circuit round Langbank. We did have a hoot though. You know you're out with the GM when you say something positive like. "Look on the bright-side. It's not raining. It's a beautiful day. And your glittery eye-shadow looks fabulous". Given that we both had Christmas nights' out that evening, we'd both gone a bit OTT on the fake-tan and turned up like satsumas. Although the GM looked immaculate as always, which might have more to do with her post-run liaisons :-)

That's packed-ice underfoot.


The Gibbering Midget: Outfit by Adidas. High Viz tights: Model's own.

The nightmare before Christmas

Planes, trains and buses have ground to a halt. Cars have been abandoned. Road, airports and schools are closed. Shops have run out of basic supplies, people have become prisoners in their own homes and the ecomony is losing millions by the day. But it would take more than freezing temperatures and white-out conditions to stop runners grinding out out the miles, eh? Tough or mentally-insane? I say a healthy serving of both. Where there's a will there's a way.

Ill-equipped and scantily-clad, snow or now snow, the show must go on. The Marcothon has now commenced. As of today (the first day) there are 267 runners on Facebook signed up to run every day in December. Plus, I know there's quite a few anti-social-networkers on board too.

Looks like it's going to be a real challenge after all. I may need an extra serving of TTFU. Apparently winter 2009/10 was the worst for 30 years. Now 2010/11 is forecast to be the earliest and worst winter conditions for some time.

Saturday brought us the first dumping of snow, which meant I missed out on the Hugh Wilson 10K in East Kilbride. After searching for webcams, we found the conditions were worse there than in Glasgow. We later heard the race went ahead, but there were too many logistical and babysitting issues to bother with a race that involved running in ankle-deep snow. I was secretly relieved.

I opted for 10 miles round the west-end. Every cloud has a silver lining, as I got to try out my lovely new Inov8 Roclites.

Great grip and much lighter than my Trabucos. Only problem is they don't go with any of my outfits. But I've got a solution for that...:-)

Over the last few days - as the snow and ice continues - I've swapped them for my x-talons. Wearing them is probably the closest I'll get to "normal" running, so I'll stick with them for the time being. Hopefully not for the next 30 days though. I don't love them that much.

It may be hard to believe, but I've actually been enjoying running this week. I've kinda got my head round the fact the snow and ice could possibly be about for the rest of the month, so best to suck it up and get on with it.

So far, I haven't slipped. Yet. And I've managed to dodge the snowballs. Thus far. On Monday night, I passed a group of local neds One of them threw a snowball, which landed about two metres from my feet. Probably not my brightest move to say: "you throw like a girl". Next thing there were six 13-year-olds tearing down the street armed with snowballs. You know the sorry state of youth today when I was running on foot-deep snow on the pavement and they were running on the road, and I'd out-ran them within 200m. Another non-smart move was to turn round and give them the two's-up, before smugly sauntering on. I don't think I'll be doing that route for a while...

Some running chat

As per previous posting, I'm still following Mark Johnston's training plan Monday-Friday. And basically doing what takes my fancy on Saturday and Sundays.

Here's the phase two plan. Dubbed phase two because it's - obviously - my second burst. Tuesdays and Thursdays are 7-8 miles steady with the speed sessions on Monday and Wednesday

W 17/11 – 6 x 4mins (75secs)
M 22/11 – 10 x 2mins (1min)
W 24/11 – 20min tempo + 6 x 200m
M 29/11 – 7 x triangle hill sprint (continuous) + 2 x 1 mile hill loop (2 – 3mins) W 1/12 – 3 x 8mins (2mins)
M 6/12 – 15 x 1min brisk, 30secs steady fartlek
W 8/12 – 3 x increasing pace killers (2mins)
M 13/12 - 1min, 2min, 3min, 4min, 5min, 4min, 3min, 2min, 1min (1min)
W 15/12 – 7 x figure of 8 hill reps [kelvingrove park]
M 20/12 - 4.8mile canal out & back tempo
W 22/12 – 8 x 3mins (1min)

'Spose I better feedback on phase one...Click on image below.



Thanks to everyone who shared my humour on Sonic's roller stunt.

Since I started this blog way back whenever it was, I've always been quite overwhelmed by the amount of people who read and comment on my drivel on life's ups and downs.

Annoucing I was pregnant - 25 comments
Cairn's first picture - 13 comments
2nd female and 2nd fastest female time ever in DOTH - 6m post-baby - 22 comments
10 hours PB on WHWR 2010 - 24 comments
1st female vet in Scottish Ultra Marathon Series - 4 comments

Post a video of my husband falling off bike - 27 comments. And that doesn't include the emails, texts or facebook messages.

Go figure!

Well now I know what appeals to you, here's a snip of a conversation I had with Sonic on the way to work this morning:

Sonic: I need to run under eight hours for 100K
Me: Well if you run two 3:10 marathons, that gives you 1:40 to run nine miles
Sonic: I think two 3:30 marathons would do it.
Me: That only gives you less than an hour to run nine miles, when you're knackered.
Sonic: OK, but what if I run the nine miles first?

Too funny

For Sonic's birthday, I bought him rollers for his bike. This was the first bash. Excuse the language and his vain attempt to stop me from blogging this. Bare with it. The grade-A strop at the end is worth the viewing :-)

With age comes sense?

At the grand old age of 35 and seven months old, I'm now closer to 40 than 30. Does that make me a proper grown-up? Nope, thanks to my maturity by-pass, I'm suffering from yet another colossal hangover today. On a school day as well.

To set the scene, the Gibbering Midget and I set out in the early dark hours for our long run. I'm not one for eating first thing, let alone 6am on a Sunday morning. So, 19 hilly miles on a empty stomach.



We started at Knightswoods and headed up to Milngavie, onto the West Highland Way and cut off at Killearn and took the track back to strathblane. It was a cracking morning. Nice and fresh. It's just the best time of year for running. I love the autumnal colours and the views of the snow-capped mountains in the background. Yes, I was close to hugging a tree.



There was method to the madness in our route choice, as Sonic was meeting some of the Garscube boys at Strathblane later in the morning.



One Cairn handover and I was off to blitz the house and prepare everything for a surprise birthday party for Sonic. Who's incidentally closer to 40 than me :-) It's a good job the weather has been close to freezing for the last week, as the garage has made a great makeshift secret fridge for party food and drink.

Still too busy to eat.

The usual recruits arrived at 6pm. The upside to being the hostess is direct access to an abundance of food. The downside is direct access to an unlimited supply of wine. The GM duly informed me that even time I came out of the kitchen I was a little bit more sparkled. Unfortunately, it's an unrequited love when it comes to the grape. Will I ever learn? Doubt it.

Happy 36th birthday to Sonic. Who incidentally ran 36 mins dead at the Bella 10K on Saturday. Spooky, eh?

Who's up for the Marcothon 2010?

This all started in 2009, when Marco (aka Sonic) challenged himself to run every day in November. As my wee Granny would say, I “can’t see green cheese”, so I decided to follow suit and run every day in December. I posted the challenge – and dubbed it the Marcothon - on Facebook and on my blog and before I knew it there was a group of runners equally eager to embrace the winter conditions of December 2009. And they were tough conditions!

The rules are simply, you must run every day. Minimum of three miles or 25 minutes – which ever comes first. The challenge starts on December 1 and finishes on December 31. And yes, that includes Christmas Day.

It's not a competition. Just a personal challenge or an incentive to burn off a few mince pies. So, who’s up for it the Marcothon 2010?

Join the gathering of Marcothonians on Facebook

The mucky season

I'm now three cross-country races down. Who would have thought the girl with an adversion to such a pursuit, would willingly volunteer? I'm assured it's great training, although I remain unconvinced. Stoatin' about in an uncontrolled manner is something I'm well-trained in, but there's usually a few vinos involved.

So, since my last post, I've done Dumbartonshire CC Relays in Helensburgh and the National CC Relays in Cumbernauld. I loved the route in Helensburgh. A nice hilly trail. Perfect. Of course, everyone else seemed to dislike it. Weirdos.

The Nationals in Cumbernauld was torture. Not only was the course brutal, but I'd been on a work leaving do the night before and mucho juniper juice was consumed.



Look, someone stole my neck!!


We're now into November and I've still clueless about what I want to do for the rest of the year. I'm still half-heartily training for an imaginary 10K. And the most I've run since RAW is 15 miles. I don't lack motivation, just direction.

Back to the future

For reasons which escape me, I've gone full-circle and I'm now training for a 10K. I'm not sure which 10K yet, but it will/could be sometime in November. That's even if I do a 10K. Let's just say, I lack direction just now. But I kinda like it that way for a bit.

I'm following (ish) Mark Johnston's - leader of Sonic's lunchtime group - training plan during the week. And just doing what ever takes my fancy at the weekend. Monday/Wednesday are speed sessions, Tuesday/Thursday are eight miles steady and there's an optional "strides" session at Glasgow Green on a Friday.

M 27/9 - 20min tempo + 6 x 200m [kelvingrove park]
W 29/9 – 10 x 2mins (1min) [kelvin]
M 4/10 – 6 x triangle hill sprint (continuous) + 2 x long hill loop (2 – 3mins)
W 6/10 – 5 x 6mins (90secs) [canal – kelvin]
M 11/10 – 15 x 1min brisk, 30sec steady (continuous fartlek) [kelvin]
W 13/10 – 5.5 mile tempo [canal – kelvin]
M 18/10 – 3 x killers [kelvingrove park]
W 20/10 – 5 x 1km (90secs) [glasgow green – grass and tarmac option]
M 25/10 - 20min tempo + 6 x 200m [kelvingrove park]
W 27/10 – 4 x 5mins (90secs) + 4 x 2mins (1min) [canal – kelvin]
M 1/11 - 6 x triangle hill sprint (continuous) + 2 x long hill loop (2 – 3mins)
W 3/11 – 3 x 12mins (2m30s) [canal – kelvin]
M 8/11 – 15 x 1min brisk, 30sec steady (continuous fartlek) [kelvin]
W 10/11 – 8,6,5,4,3,2,1min (90secs after 8 & 6 then 1min) [canal – kelvin]

Last week, I resurrected the Baby Jogger training. None of this faffing about running ultra-distances - time to get some really tough runs in. The Baby Jogger has been hiding in the garage since we moved house in March. Mainly because divvying up running time between us is not as difficult as originally anticipated and Cairn isn't exactly the daintiest of infants.

Last year, taking Cairn for a spin round the country roads of Alexandria was quite a joyous experience. If anything, tackling the undulating routes always kept the farmers entertained. Cruising through Knightswood doesn't have the same appeal. Granted I headed up to the canal path, but I had to pass the high-flats on Lincoln Avenue on the way. That raised a few eyebrows. I'm sure the observers would have muttered their opinions, if any of them could actually speak English.

On to the canal, the idea was to do six miles (three miles out and back). But my delightful son decided to drop his favourite blanket (the only thing he sleeps with) at the turning point, so I ended up doing 12 miles! I'm sure he was giggling like Mutley.

On Wednesday, I went out with the boys with the jet-propelled legs for the (as above) 5 x 6mins session. Dear god, I was practically on my knees by the end of it. Thursday night was 6 miles steady with the club. I wouldn't recommend doing this after a few glasses of wine at a work lunch.

On Saturday, I'd signed myself up for the West Districts Cross-country in Rouken Glen Park. In my defense, at the time I didn't realise it was a relay. That came as a bit of a shock. Not only was I running a cross-country race, but I had to RUN as my team position depended on it. In fairness, I think I was only there to make up the numbers, but it was quite daunting to see that every other Garscube girl was considerably faster than me. Considerably.



I've always kinda mocked cross-country. I've never quite understood how people could take it seriously. I'm not sure whether it was the shock from going from ultra-training to racing 2.6 across muck, but I was well and truly f**ked. I literally thought my eyes were going to pop. As I lay sparked out on the grass, I vowed never to mock cross-country again. Respect.


Jill (18.50), Ailsa (18.42) and I (20.04) finished 15th overall.



Team shot above. Cairn and Dr Crazy German below.



Click here for full results, if you're remotely interested.

On Sunday, I took part in Milburn Harriers 10 (and a wee bit) mile handicap race. The course follows the Balloch Horseshoe, which is one of my favourite routes. I love the rolling country roads and amazing views. I could have easily talked myself out of the race if it wasn't for that fact. Plus, Sonic had gone out on the hills with the Crazy German at 6am, to allow time to get to Alexandria to takeover Cairn watching duties. In true Consani fashion, he made it in the nick of time.

At my allocated starting time, I was set off with two Milburn blokes. They went belting off, like they were being chased by the Vale's finest. Great. Day-two of a weekend's ass-whipping. Fortunately for me, by mile three (and where the hills began) the gap was closing and I passed them both at mile four. I was glad I stayed steady at the start, as I felt great on the second half, picking off runners as I went. NB: This only ever happens to me on very long races or handicapped ones.



I fnished the 10.2 miles in 1:19:36, which I was quite pleased with. Especially considering the cheeky hills. Splits ( 7:48, 7:52, 8:52, 8:03, 7:58, 7:53, 8:00, 7:16, 7:07, 7:55, 7:18) Average 7:52m/m

Cairn's debut performance

The Wee Nessie - for pre-school kids - as part of the Loch Ness Marathon and Festival of running.

Before you report us to the appropriate authorities, please note this was just a bit of family-fun.

Who's dulcet tones do you hear from the crowds?



Given the wet conditions, this could have doubled-up as his first cross-country race.

Not such a RAW deal after all

I made no secret of the fact that I wasn't up for the River Ayr Way (RAW) Race. I was only in it to complete the four races required to qualify for the Scottish Ultra-Marathon Series.

I had my eye on fourth position, which would mean the 1st lady vet. I know, I'm a bit of a charlatan considering I had only just turned 35 when I did my first race this year. And the organisers are changing it to 40 for next year.

After a disastrous training run on the route two weeks before the race, I just had to screw my head on and get to the end.



The first 20 miles - of the just shy of 41 mile - I was a bit up and down, but after I left the Catrine checkpoint I felt reborn. The miles just kicked off and I really enjoyed the last 20 miles. Weird, eh?

It was by far my favourite race this year. The first, The Highland Fling - I blew up. The West Highland Way Race - well, it's 95 hilly miles. Enough said. The third, the Devil o' The Highlands - was just nasty from the start and then I fell running full pelt down a hill. RAW was the way I liked to feel during all races. Maybe it was the conservative start. Or maybe I ate so much the day before I should have really turned at the end and ran back to try and burn it off.

JK basically wrote my race report for me, so click here for the full account.



I got the points I needed to take 1st lady female...just. I didn't realise how close it was until the awards ceremony. My 1617 to Gail Murdoch's 1616. Thankfully most of the races are on trail, as Gail would run circles round me on the road.



The biggest challenge was trying to get my shoes on for the SUMS ball. My feet were soaked within one mile of starting the race, so my blisters had blisters.

Congratulations to all who completed the series. Especially Sonic who finished third in a hugely competitive field.

1st male Grant Jeans
2nd Jack Brown
3rd Marco Consani

1st female Lucy Colquhoun
2nd Sharon Law
3rd Jamie Aarons

1st male vet George Cairns
2nd Thomas Loehndorf
3rd Gavin Harvie

1st female vet Debbie Martin Consani
2nd Gail Murdoch
3rd Rosie Bell

1st male supervet John Kennedy
2nd Bill Hutchison
3rd John Kynaston

1st female supervet Elaine Calder
2nd Marion McPhail
3rd Jane Grundy

The (less) grand finale

Wow! Has it been that long since my last post? And I haven't got that much to say. I've made a half-arsed attempt at training for the River Ayr Way Race this Saturday. I'm only doing it to make up the fourth event to qualify for the Scottish Ultra Marathon Series. I'm guessing the majority of the field are in the same frame. I'm kinda cursing my DNF at the D33 now, but needs must.

So what's been happening over the last month? Still can't believe it's been almost a month since my last drivel-session. Well, I recovered fairly well from the Devils race - once the bruising and swelling had gone down and I could bend my knees again. I'll never again underestimate the importance of fully functioning knees when looking after an exuberant toddler.

Then there was the trip to Chamonix to support the troops on various races on the Tour du Mont Blanc circuit. Anyway who follows ultra running will know all the races were stopped/suspended/re-arranged. A lot of whw blogs have gone into detail, but I'll spare you. Despite only being on the sideline, it did put a bit of a damper on the holiday. Quite literally, courtesy of the monsoon conditions.

Here are some pix of the sun shining.







When it raining, it was bloody awful. Especially in a region that's so geared up for outdoor activities.

The morning the CCC started, the GM and I ran from Chamonix to Les Houches and I don't remember ever being that soaked. No wonder there so many who bowed out of the race - even before it was eventually stopped for less-able runners.

Thanks to the Crazy German for providing a comedy lifeline and DNF-ing at 5K. Although he maintains "it was six!". After he successfully completed the WHW on this third attempt, I've been a bit low on the ground on mocking material. Thanks, CG, for taking one for the team. The Courmayeur 5K will always have a special place in my heart :-) The comedy highlight was the night the UTMB started. Whilst running to a restaurant to escape the torrential rain, the GM shouted "Come on, Thomas. We'll get you up to 10K today".

Let's just say, I better not DNF this weekend.

I've been lucky enough to cover the full course on two training runs, so I've ironed out the logistical nightmares. I just need to find my mojo.