I've decided that two blogs is a blog too far, and have switched my focus to the self-build house blog that is documenting the building of our timber and strawbale house. This doesn't mean I've stopped running each day, merely that I'm not writing about each run. Races will still probably make it onto this blog. In the meantime, the bare statistics of daily runs are still being logged on the One Pound Challenge site.
The field seemed to be a bit down on previous years, but the presence of Adam Ward, Steve Fallon, Bruce Smith and a couple of handy Moorfoot runners suggested that I wouldn’t have an easy ride. I ran with Adam up the first climb, with Wull Hynd from Moorfoot a pace or two behind. There was a muggy heat that made Adam remark after less than two minute that his mouth was dry. Down the first sharp descent Adam pulled a slight gap and Wull dropped back, and on the steep climb out of the gully, Steve Fallon bounded past looking strong. Wull soon nicked past and I slowly lost ground over the next ten minutes. Next to pass, with a real bounce in his stride, was Bruce Smith, and by the time we reached the Curr, the highest point on the route at around the halfway point I had lost touch with them all, and was being chased down by Michael McGovern from Moorfoot.
The descent from The Curr is always a swine, steep and rough with long reedy grass tripping you at every step. By the bottom of the descent Michael was on my heels, and I noticed that up ahead, Wull Hynd had lost ground on the Carnethy trio. Adam was powering away in the distance and looked uncatchable. Bruce had skipped into second and Steve had overhauled Wull. I had a bit of a battle on the steep climb to Latchley Hill with Michael and we crested together, Immediately, though, he seemed to grind to a halt and within a couple of minutes I had a 100m gap. I didn’t seem to be making any headway on any of those in front, and was starting to resign myself to a semi-respectable 5th place. I was a bit concerned to see Sandy Bennet moving into 6th place, gaining on me steadily as Wildgoose Hill and Sunnyside were conquered and left behind.
Looking across from Sunnyside it seemed that Wull and Steve, running together, were suddenly much closer that they had been 10 minutes before. This gave me fresh impetus, and I knew that, with neither of them having run the race before, there was a fair chance they had underestimated the severity of the roller-coaster return leg. I pushed on to the bottom of Staerough and took a better line on the climb (local knowledge is a wonderful thing!). Steve and Wull were clearly suffering, and I passed Steve on the summit, where organiser Les Turnbull’s wife was sitting on a wall playing her penny whistle. I knew that Wull had struggled on the earlier descents, and the final drop of Staerough is a bit of a bugger, very rutted and pretty steep. I gradually reeled him in and passed him with about 400m remaining for a surprise 3rd place in 75:55. Adam had won about 5 minutes ahead, a couple of minutes ahead of Bruce Smith.
Some way back, Kate Jenkins and Cat Milller ran off the wrong side of Staerough (though not together) and paid an unscheduled visit to the outskirts of Kirk Yetholm. Kate realised her mistake in time to charge back up and regain first place, determination overcoming the effects of yesterday’s Stranraer Half Marathon. She won in 94 minutes dead.
Despite losing my crown, I was very encouraged to have come through unscathed, and took it as a sign that my miserable first half of the year is coming to a close and that I might be able to salvage something from the second half.
Selected Results:
1 Adam Ward - Carnethy - 70:56
2 Bruce Smith - Carnethy - 73:09
3 Damon Rodwell - Westerlands - 75:55
4 Wull Hynd - Moorfoot - 76:08
5 Steve Fallon - Carnethy - 76:22
6 Sandy Bennet - Carnegie - 78:10
7 Alistair McDonald - Dundee Hawkhill - 79:31
8 Keith Murray - Teviotdale - 80:38
9 John Kay - Fife AC - 81:27
10 - Michael McGovern - Moorfoot - 82:00
16 Kate Jenkins - U/A - 94:00 (first lady)
More piddly local runs and a bike ride, all designed to spare my ankles undue punishment ahead of Sunday's Yetholm Hill Race. Ankle and foot problems definitely on the mend, but a lot to do to get back to anything like race-fit.
Had a big backlog of work to tackle after the long weekend away. Got through most of it by about 4 p.m. but didn't feel inspired to get out for a run until after dinner. Grotty rain all day, and still drizzling when I took the dogs out for a 25-minute jog around the fields on creaky ankles.
Flew to Belfast and shared a hire-car with parents and Gemma and Richard for the drive to Belle Isle in Fermanagh for my niece's wedding. Fitted in a gentle 4-mile jog around the estate with Rachel on the Friday, a 9-mile road-run before the wedding on Saturday morning, a tiring 80-minutes on forest tracks and roads on Sunday afternoon (once the mild hangover had abated) and a 20-minte jog on the Monday, with very stiff achilles and ankles. Wonderful family weekend in lovely countryside. See wedding pictures here
A few days getting my legs back together after the exertions of the SIPR. Tired for the first couple of days and ankles aching again. Better towards the end of the week, with a couple of fairly sprightly half-hours jaunts around Bowmont Forest. Knackered again by Thursday, and managed just a slow jog for 20 minutes.
Thursday’s unpleasant weather had turned pretty wild through the night, and at the Friday-morning briefing we were told that the race was to be cut short to avoid the dangerous sail around the Mull of Kintyre, and would now finish at the end of the Jura leg. It was generally received as a wise decision, but there were still one or two disappointed faces around. Several boats decided not to start, among them those carrying Kate Jenkins and Dave Rogers, Manny Gorman and Stevie Bell and Christine Menhennet and Elsie Baxter, so Westerlands turned out to be under-represented this year.
I ran the Oban race as fast as I could, which was not very fast at all, trailing well behind Crispin all the way, until he waited for me for the final run-in along the road. My performance was limited by my crappy sludge-filled lungs and lack of energy, and we clocked about 2 - 3 minutes slower than last year. Crispin was looking ominously strong.
The sail to Mull was a real white-knuckle ride. The guys pushed the boat possibly slightly harder than they should have in such big seas, and at one point we very, very nearly capsized. Apparently this ain't easy in a trimaran! After only 2 hours we arrived on Mull with a lead of about 10 seconds over Phil Davies and his partner off Memec and Jill Mykura and Jackie Lee. I was feeling really shitty, and the other four just ran away from us. Crispin must have been very frustrated, but kept it under his hat, bless him. He stopped and waited for me to catch up after 12 minutes, and immediately he saw the state I was in he asked if I wanted to chuck it. How could I possibly pull the plug after 12 minutes, when the guys had sailed out of their skins to get us there so fast?
The 5-miles of road was covered through driving rain and buffetting winds in about 38 minutes, and my recollections are lost in a fog of weariness and gloom, . The track onto the hills felt a little better and our progress to the coll at 330m was slow-to-steady. We seemed to be gradually pulling up on Jill and Jackie, who had gone off very hard and were probably paying for it in the sapping conditions. Eventually we caught them on the boulder-field on the way to the summit ridge, and stayed loosely with them to the summit (where the checkpoint had been blown away!), exchanging occasional banter whenever the wind allowed us to hear one-another. I kept having coughing fits, each of which had the effect of leaving gasping for breath, as if I'd put in a 10-second sprint for the hell of it. Jill was descending superbly on the narrow winding path through the scree. A squall went over during this stretch, which assailed any bare flesh (legs and faces, mainly) with icy wind-driven needles of rain.
We were continually buffeted by an extremely strong gusty wind which sapped the energy and the spirits and had robbed my fingers of any vestige of dexterity long before the summit.
Crispin and I had a steady trundle to the 4th checkpoint, by which time J&J had disappeared behind us, but the runners from Playing FT$E had caught us. We took a lower line than the others down to the track, over miserable tussocks and a nasty traverse. The wind was STILL in our faces, which seemed a bit harsh, as it seemed to have been there throughout. The Symons brothers went charging past looking fresh as daisies and very quickly disappeared into the distance.
By the time we reached the road I was shattered, and humbly accepted Crispin's offer to carry my pack for a while. This proved to be a bit of a master-stroke, as it enabled us to pass the runners from FT$E, one of whom had given up his pack to his partner, and who looked even worse than I did. After about a kilometre, I took my bag back. To be honest, it didn't seem to make much difference, but something, possibly the comparative rest or more probably something psychological had put a modicum of life back into my legs and we pulled steadily away from our closest rivals.
Near the finish we were told that the race had been abandoned for safety reasons, and that if we held our position we'd finish in the medals. This happy news boosted me considerably - only now did I realise how much I was dreading a hard run in foul conditions with disfunctional lungs and lifeless legs on Jura - and we finished pretty strongly. This was largely due to a clever piece of psychology on Crispin's part. He'd noticed that my head goes down when I'm trailing, so he decreed that I should stay in front. It sounds basic, but it certainly made a difference. Back on board, we learned that Memec had managed to run over his runners in their dingy, trying to pick them up under sail, and that one of them, possibly Phil Davies, had been plucked from the water unconscious by FT$E, while the other runner and his rower were fished out of the briney by Memec. Later reports suggested that this story may have been a bit embellished, and that no-one was unconscious, but Steve (Blue Chip skipper) informed us that while we'd been on the hill, our crew had decided to chuck it in any case. It must have been a hard decision, as for all they knew we were still in the lead, and we knew that Steve had invested a lot of cash and energy into winning this year. Maybe the near-capsize had swung it!
We crept across to Loch Aline to weather the storm, and crashed into bed at 10:30 after a couple of games of cards. My perennially troublesome ankle had held up remarkably well on very rough terrain, which was encouraging. In retrospect, I’m pretty amazed I got around the route without a complete physical collapse, but I suppose I didn't really have much choice!
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| SIPR 2007 |
Set off around 2 pm for Oban, and stopped on the Edinburgh ring-road for a little linener up and down Caerketton Hill in the Pentlands. Nothing like as rough as yesterday, but still coughing up all manner of nasties and very drained. Met Crispin in the Counting House, had a quick feed then caught the train to Oban. Walked up the hill to the B&B chatting to my parents on the phone, which left me alarmingly out of breath. Turned in early, praying for a miracle!
Cold finally struck good and proper today, and I had such a blinding headache, which seemed impervious to drugs, that I took to my bed for a few hours in the afternoon. Slept fitfully in a sudoral mess and awoke feeling slightly less awful. Staggered out for a run in the evening into Bowmont Forest for the bare minimum 20 minutes.
Now too late for Crispin to find a replacement partner for the Boat Race, so I didn't bother telling him about the illness.
Jogged for half an hour each day, trying to keep the cold-bug at bay. Spent the 15th laying a floor in Edinburgh with Mal. Another rude reminder that most people have to work for a living! Good fun, though, despite the rush-hour driving.
Thought I'd better get something reasonably long in before the Boat Race. Steady run out over Linton Hill to Highside and back. Knackered after an hour, which wasn't very encouraging! First symptoms of a cold started showing, which is absolutely bloody typical! I almost invariably get one the week before a big race.
Lovely hard run through Bowmont Forest. Felt uninhibited for the first time in months and pegged it the whole way. Guts complained a bit afterwards, but it was well worth it, to remember that running can actually be quite fun.
Gentle trundle around the local fields, which I cut short when my new hill-shoes generated a small blister on my right foot.
First run in almost a week. Ankle feeling fine, so decided to test it with a gentle jog along the Teviot. Took Hamu along to make sure I didn't get carried away. Good fun runnig with him. Needs to concentrate a bit more on the running and a bit less on the larking about, but that'll come with time! Out for just under half an hour, of which about 5 minutes was walking or picking wild garlic, which he impressed me by identifying by the smell. Clever little bugger!
Went straight from there to collect Ellie from school, and watched the St. Mary's kids knocking tennis balls around the court in the rain in their T-shirts.
X-ray revealed nothing, which was unsurprising as the ankle has responded very well to the rest from running, and has been pain-free for several days. Cycled through Bowmont Forest again, and added an excursion down to the Yetholm Road to make sure the dog was properly tired.
Saw doctor in the morning. She reckoned the ankle-lump might be a ganglion, but booked me an x-ray tomorrow to chack for bone damage. Nicked out for the statutory 25 minutes through Bowmont Forest on the bike in the evening.
Quick 25 minute blast on the muntain bike in Bowmont Forest with Mark. He was on mine and I was on Ellies (!), so we were equally handicapped. Ellie's front suspension was a very obvious advantage on the rough stretches, where he was shaken to bits and almost unseated a couple of times.
8 miles on bike with Mark. He was on an undersized mountain bike and I was on my racer, and the bugger kept up! Lovely sunny evening. Took him via Caverton Mill to Morebattle and back through Linton.
No chance to do anything until 10pm when I nipped out for 25 minutes on the bike to Linton & back at a clip. Lump on inside of ankle bigger and sorer than ever today. Have made an appointment with a podiatrist, but not until May 14, 4 days before the SIPR, so will see a quack in the meantime.
Ankle felt horrible all day, but strangely seemed to ease a little when I took Mark into Bowmont Forest for a 35-minute jaunt and a reasonably brisk pace. Certainly no worse at the end of the run than at the beginning. Groggy morning after one whole bottle of beer and a glass of bubbly last night! Visited Rembrand Timber in the afternoon and spoke to the rather clueless branch manager about structural timber and windows. Missed Ellie's performance in the school poetry recital competition, but arrived in time to see her lift second place overall for her rendition of the Jabberwauky. Very proud!
Mark and Ruth, friends from London are here to stay for a few days with their three daughters, which makes for a lively household. Mark's a rugby player, but used to run on the hills so I took him out for a 25-minutes trot out over the surrounding farmland. Ankle objecting to the last couple of days' effort and most of the run was done at a hobble, especially when climbing or on uneven ground. Iced it when we got home, but it didn't seem to do any good.
Ankle feeling reasonably robust today. Once the haze had burnt off it was glorious and sunny. Nipped into Kelso in the afternoon and had a wonderful 45-minute run along the Teviot to Roxburgh and back. Path a bit more technical than I've ever noticed before, with plenty of twists and turns and half-buried rocks to skip around. Ankle no worse after 45 minutes than it had been after 10, which I suppose is encouraging.
Lovely displays of primroses, dandelions and forget-me-nots, and a heady smell of wild garlic, which had my juices flowing even before I ran past Springwood, where some bugger was cooking a bacon roll! Mmmmmm!
Too depressing to blog every day lately. Poodled around on the bike for a week before the club 5K track championships on April 26th. Started the race and felt comfortable at half way in 8:13, well behind Rory, who was on a blinder. With about a kilometre to go I managed to step on a hemispherical lane marker and turn my ankle (the already-dodgy one), which was agony, and which was visibly swollen within a couple of minutes. Extremely hacked off. Very sore for the next few days, so it was back to the daily half-hour cycle, sometimes around Bowmont Forest and sometimes on the road. Told Crispin I wouldn't be able to do the SIPR on May 17th, but he's persuaded me to soldier on and see how it goes. Ankle now feeling a fair bit better, and yesterday (May 1st) I risked a half-hour run around the fields, which I came through with no ill-effects.
On the bright side, planning consent has now been granted for the self-build, so at least if I can't run properly, I should find something physically active do do for the next few months.
Pushed for time, so nipped out for a quick half-hour on the bike before dinner. Hilly and windy. A bit jelly-legged at the end.
Cycled down past Bowmont Forest sawmill and past Marlefield to Morebattle to post a couple of parcels, then home via Linton. 50 minutes in total. Can't believe how hard it is.
Ankle really troublesome. Went into Bowmont Forest with Anna and horse and jogged with regular stops for a shade under half an hour. Even this modest effort left me limping, and I resolved to take to the bike for a few days.
Manic morning's work racing to ship some big orders before the weekend. Mum and Dad arrived last night for a week, and we took them into Kelso after lunch for a bogle about. Nipped out for a run immediately after dinner. Ankle not great all day, and it ached throughout the half-hour run through Bowmont Forest and out to the garage to collect Anna's car.
Think I should see the podiatrist. Foot / ankle feels very similar to how the other one felt for several months in 1994, until the day before The Comerades Marathon in South Africa, where a podiatrist at the race ragistration put my cuboid bone back into its socket. Turned out I'd dislocated it five months earlier on a run in New Zealand!
Hamish's first Gala Harriers track session, which he's been nipping my ear about for weeks. First rain this month started falling just before we got there, unfortunately. Left him in the care of a clutch of coaches, with several dozen shouting contemporaries for company and joined the adults for a warm-up. The drills played merry hell with my foot, however, so I decided against the session and instead jogged a couple of laps then went into the gym and did 15 minutes on the exercise bike (sweaty and mind-numbing), 3 minutes on the rowing machine (pointless - didn't quite understand what it was supposed to do other than hurt my wrists!) and a few sets of leg-thingies on one of the machines with the clanky weights. Quite good fun watching the posers checking themselves in the big mirrors. Even had time to go back outside and watch the end of Hamish's session, which seemed to involve quite a bit of standing around with his hands down his trousers, punctuated by brief periods of running frantically and looking desperately behind him to see who was likely to come past.
Worked all morning then went en masse to Cranshaws for dinner. Anna's car's in the garage, so we all had to pile in mine, with muggins here drawing the short straw and travelling in the boot. Felt pig-sick with a couple of miles, and positively green by the time we arrived. Thought three large portions of fish pie with salad and veg might help, but strangely it didn't. Gallantly allowed Ellie to ride in the boot on the way home!
Ran around Bowmont Forest (again!) immediately we got back, still stuffed to the gills. Ankle behaved pretty well and maintained a decent pace throughout, although with a lump of lead in my belly, the time for the same route as yesterday was a minute or two slower.
Ankle a lot better today, and after a gentle morning's work I managed a good hard 28-minute stomp around Bowmont Forest with no ill-effects. Good and hard refer, of course, to the workrate, and not necessarily any great speed. We'll get around to that!
Another lovely day, although it started a lot cooler. Worked all morning in the office then cycled pretty hard to the village and back (about 9 miles in total). Finished the go-kart with Hamish then spent the next hour or so trying to stop the kids killing themselves on the slope down beside the house. Bloody thing goes like a rocket - and has no brake! Ankle pretty grim by this point, so I asked if Hamu fancied a run, and repeated Monday's jaunt into Bowmont Forest with him. Hobbling in a pretty pathetic fashion and feeling pretty feeble. Going to have to think seriously about junking the Boat Race if things don't pick up soon.
Spent most of the morning making a fabulous go-kart / guider / bogey with wheels and axles from one of the twins' redundant prams and timber off-cuts from various recent projects. Hamish had been nipping my ear wanting to build something - anything, and this was slightly more achievable than his ideas: a miniature "spy tape recorder" or a laser that could cut metal!
Very warm sunny day. Almost regretted not having to cut the grass. All went to Cranshaws in the afternoon to lend a hand and see what damage Boo had sustained when a sheepdog bit his eye when he got a bit too close to a tasty-looking pile of after-birth. He'd spent the night in hospital and had it stitched up.
Didn't run until after dark when the kids were all down. Dropped my car at the garage and ran the 4 miles home on the road at a reasonable lick. Ankle behaved surprisingly well, with just a single sharp spasm early on which made me swear and hop for a while.
Took the head-staggers this morning and suggested a family trip to the swimming pool. This is always met by high-octane excitement from the kids and inward groans from Anna (and me). Hamish has recently learned to swim, Oscar isn't far behind and Toby quite likes the idea and talks a good game, but soon remembers that he's not actually all that fond of water.
Managed to avoid breaking any bones this time (unlike March 17th), and we all emerged unscathed at lunchtime. The gorgeous and unseasonably warm spell shows no sign of breaking, and after spending a good couple of hours unpacking and setting up my whizzo new sliding compound mitre saw and associated stand (wake up!), I asked Hamu if he'd like to join me on a run. Opted for Bowmont Forest again, and thought it best if the wee man brought his bike for the easy bits at the start and finish, and just ran the loop in the woods with me. Worked very well, and with my ankle in the state it's in, it wasn't really an imposition to have to run at his pace. He's a bit too exuberant, which Neil Renton will soon beat out of him when he starts training with Gala Harriers next week! Total running time (for me) was 24 minutes.
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| Hamu in Bowmont Forest |
Yet another lovely sunny day. Anna had a wedding in Traquair House, so after a busy morning in the ofice I took the afternoon off and enjoyed the garden with the kids. Spent a couple hours cutting the grass, then when Anna came home at 5 I nipped out for a run on the road. Thought this would be easiest for my ankle / foot, but quickly discovered that the hard ground was quite the wrong thing. Headed instead into Bowmont Forest and trundled around a gentle 27 minutes, with occasional stabs of pain. Seems worst when I stop and start again, or when I change direction suddenly.
Busy day in the real world, with three jobs all over in the Berwick area. Knocked them all off and arrive home just in time for a visiting customer. Anna over at Cranshaws with the weans for the day. Set off for the track and arrived sufficiently early to have a 20-minute doze in the car. Still warm and sunny. Warmed up with a couple of laps, with ankle twingeing gently. Aggrevated it a little during some plyometric exercises with the group, then started the session proper. Three pyramids presribed, but on the last effort of the first set the ankle went bananas and left me hobbling at the trackside. Really pissed off. First time in 20 years' running that I've aborted a track session. What a crappy few months' running I've had. Just can't understand it.
Ankle and foot feeling very vulnerable and sore, so trundled around the local farmland for half an hour. Several sharp spasms from the ankle, and had to walk for a minute or two to let it settle down. Absolutely no idea what it can be. No swelling or bruising, and difficult to pinpoint the epicentre.
The hundredth day of the year, and therefore my hundrenth consecutive day's running. After the dismal time I've had over the last couple of months, I was determined to do something significant. Drove out to Morebattle and ran up Wideopen Hill at a good lick. This was the hill that revealed the full extent of my decrepitude a couple of days ago, and my hackles were up. I reached the top in a shade over 11 minutes, which I think is possibly the quickest I've ever done it. Carried on running hard to the top of Wideopen Hill, reached in another p.b. of 16 minutes and a few seconds. Eased up a little on the way down to Crookedshaws stile, then turned into the teeth of a blustery wind and charged back up Wideopen Hill and across to the ridge climbing gradually to Hownam Law. Reached the trig in about 55 minutes, after a battle with the wind the whole way along the ridge. Has this been the windiest winter ever? It's definitely the blowiest in my memory, but that aint saying much, as my memory only extends as far back as last Thursday lunchtime! By now I was running late for a drop in Kelso, so had to peg it down off the hill to Hownam Grange and along the road to the car.
Running time was 67 minutes, and it's certainly the best run I've put together in several weeks. Lungs clear of sludge, rib almost normal, foot just a little crampy on the climbs and ankles only made me cry out in anguish a couple of times! Felt like the end of a period of stagnation and the start of something new... or something!
Rachael asked if she could run with me again, so I drove her to town and ran out along the Teviot to Roxburgh, crossed the viaduct and came back along the north bank. Nice steady run, with a few little balsts to keep the legs awake. Having lived in the city (London and then Liverpool) for the last 6 year, she's bowled over by the scenery here. Ankles still giving me gyp.
Annual church visit in the morning with all the scallywags for Anna's easter service. Took Rachel to see the plot on the way home, then later she ran me into Morebattle so I could run home via Grubbit Law, Wideopen Hill, Highside and Linton Hill.
From the moment she dropped me I realised it was a mistake. Both ankles inexplicably stiff and sore, and legs utterly devoid of bounce. Trudged in a desultory fashion up Grubbit Law, having to walk a large part of it for the first time since we bought a house in the village over five years ago. Jogged on to Wideopen Hill and down to Crookedshaws, then had to walk once again for most of the usually runnable climb up Highside (see first photo). Blustery wind had picked up, which did nothing for my progress or my mood. Found a vestige of a rhythm along the ridge to Linton Hill (see second photo), then descended sluggishly and gratefully to the house. Total time of 1:46 included a few photo-stops and a couple of long spells of walking, and should have been well under an hour and a half in normal circumstances. No idea why I'm so knackered at the moment, but it's a bit demoralising when the rest of the guys on the One Pound Challenge are all reaping the benefits. Think I'll take some iron...
Took Anna to Edinburgh for a grand but chaotic Christy Moore concert in the Usher Hall in the evening.
Took Rachel (aka Lara Croft - see photos) for a flat 37 minute jog around Bowmont Forest. Nice to have company - even of the chat was thin on the ground!
Warm hazy day. Ran through Bowmont Forest to the sawmill then across the fields to Heiton and back by the road. Legs pretty disinterested and lethargic. Rachel (neice) arrived from Liverpool in the evening while I was down at Claire and Jean's "spontanuous gathering". Kids very excited to see her!
Another glorious sunny and warm day. Spent most of it indoors tying up loose ends and getting a few last-minutes orders out before the holiday. Every time I thought I could go and enjoy the sun, something else cropped up.
Drove to Gala for a track session, arrived way too early and killed half an hour snoozing gently in the car and listening to PM. Rudely woken by some scallywag junior squirting me with a water pistol through the open window!
Session prescribed was 12 x 400m off a 2:45 turn-around (i.e. start each 400m 2 mins 45 secs after the previous one, so the faster you run the more recovery you get). Felt like I was running in soft sand, and just couldn't seem to get the legs turning over properly. A couple of strides off the pace on most of them, with an unusually speedy Graeme Murdoch dragging me along. A cruel novelty was that Laura Goodson and Alice Haining, two of the best juniors in the country were drafted in on occasional reps, fully recovered from their last effort, to humiliate us!
Times were:
73, 71, 70, 70, 71, 71, 73, 73, 72, 72, 73, 72.
Rib much improved, and no repeat of last week's post-session sieze-up.
Worked most of the morning, spent a couple of hours cutting the grass, had a furious exchange of emails with the head of Planning, then drove fizzing with rage to a job near Holy Island. Stunningly lovely day - the first of the year with any real warmth. Developed a headache on the way home, which cleared when I took both dogs out for half an hour around the fields. Rib seems to appreciate the easy running of the last few days and has settled once more to a low-level throb.
Saw the quack in the morning. He’s a competitive cyclist, so knows there’s absolutely no point telling me to rest up. Felt my ribs with freezing hands (and a glint in his eye) and said that it was no wonder that it was sore, and that ribs generally take 5 or 6 weeks to mend. Agreed that I’d probably overcooked it a bit at the end of last week, and suggested I take it a bit steadier for a couple of weeks. Took the family to Alnwick Castle Gardens for the afternoon, which were splendid. Kids charged around in their new knights' suits killing tourists, dragons and each other with their bows and arrows.
Stayed local for my run and spent 32 minutes trotting around the local fields and hills at a moderate pace. Gorgeous evening. Erected the trampoline in the garden today. What a joy to see the kids expending so much energy in the sunshine without coersion!
Another day of gorgeous slightly hazy spring sunshine, but rib giving me terrible gyp all day. Clearly feeling the effects of a track session and two hill runs in four days, so resigned myself to a few days of gentle flat stuff. Drove into Kelso and followed the old disused railway to Sprouston, then took signed paths to Mellendean and Windywalls, then back the way I’d come. Took it easy, and rib seemed to have eased a bit by the end. 40 minutes in total.
Ten years ago today I packed up my Astravan with all my worldly chattels and left my barn in Gloucestershire for good, destined for Cranshaws in the Lammermuir Hills, half an hour south-east of Edinburgh. I was an impecunious batchelor with little prospect f finding any work and nothing to take me to Cranshaws other than the thought of running for hours every day in beautiful hills, and the proximity of my best buddies Mark and Julie in Edinburgh. Ten years on, Mark and Jules are both married (though not to each other), I have a wife, more children than I can keep track of, more bloody animals than I care to think about, a steady business and a self-build project in the offing. Some ten years! I wanted to do something significant to mark the anniversary, even if it was just a run around the old trails in the Lammermuirs. Anna was working in the morning and Ellie had to be collected from Edinburgh in the afternoon, so the best I could come up with given the limited time available was to nip out to the Yetholm Hill Race route – which occupies a special place in my heart being the only race in Scotland I’ve won twice – and blast around it as best I could. Time really was against me, so I followed the route faithfully as far as the nasty descent of The Curr, then cut right and joined the low-level Pennine Way alternative and pushed back to the car via Halterburn Head. Lovely run in perfect cool and sunny conditions, although I’ll need to get round it a fair bit quicker in June to retain my crown! Out for an hour and ten plus photo-stops.
Oscar provided the real landmark for me by riding his bike without stabilisers for the first time – a genuine right of passage. Toby, always a bit more timid, needs a couple more days’ practice.
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| Yetholm Hill Race route 010407 |
Beautiful sunny afternoon, so I drove out to the ford and ran up Wideopen Hill and down the other side to Crookedshaws stile, the back up the same way. Took in a ocuple of small tops on the way back to the car to try to stretch it out to the hour, but arrived at the finish in 55 minutes, by which time the dog had had enough. Felt fine on the run, and moving uninhibited by the rib, but once again it, along with my back and shoulder stiffened up badly afterwards. Met three
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| Hownam Hills |
Friendly young BT engineer came out this morning and installed a second line in the house. Quickly signed up for a Tesco package that, for £5.99 a month gives me unlimited dial-up access between
Strange dull hazy day reflected my mood perfectly, and it was a bit of a struggle to motivate myself to get out for a run, despite being a very quiet work day. Eventually ran out of displacement activities and dragged myself out for 40 minutes steady around
Out for drinks at Jean & Claire’s with the Scott-Plummers, who are as posh as their name suggests. Great fun, with our three boys and Claire’s three all playing happily in the garden. After two glasses of wine I had to be helped home, and tottered around the house until I’d had a good feed of veg casserole to steady myself!
Rib very achey all day, and tightness spread into my shoulder and back. In dire need of a supermarket run, so decided to go to Gala and plod through the track session and visit Tesco afterwards. Had to miss all the dancey-prancey warm-up stuff at the start because of the rib and jogged a couple of miles instead.
Session was three sets of 600, 400, 200, 400, 600 with 200m jog between reps and 3 minutes between sets. Ran the first set steady with Graeme Murdoch then gave it a bit of welly on the second set, and a bit more on the last. Whole right side of torso tightened badly immediately after last rep and gave me serious gyp for an hour or two. Had to do shopping and navigate trolley one-handed. Try it sometime!
Times were 2:02,
Very busy day, and only had time for a quick 20-minute blast around the fields. Oscar joined me for the last half-a-mile, which he treated as a fartlek session, chatting all the while. I reckon he’ll be a long-distance bod. Seems to be able to run forever. Dunno where he gets it from!
BT finally decreed that my phone line will not support broadband, which translates as “our engineer can’t be arsed opening any joints to find where the moisture’s getting in”.
The most prominent landmark in any direction from the house is the mast on Linton Hill to the east, and it struck me a shameful that I’ve only run there once since moving here. Last time it took an hour, and this time I had exactly an hour before Anna had to disappear for one of her mysterious daily appointments. Right foot kept cramping, and eventually I had to loosen my shoe twicw, the second time to the extent that my foot was sliding around inside on the descents. Nevertheless, nipped out to the mast and back in 55 minutes without any real discomfort from the rib.
Visited Peter Darling at
Anna had a funeral to conduct and I was tied up all morning with childcare and work. Drove out to Heiton and crossed the Teviot on the viaduct, then ran 20 minutes out towards Nisbet before turning and running back the same way. Legs felt heavy and chest aching. Hard work to get any pace going. Lovely hazy sunshine all day, and a slight headwind on the way back.
Toby took me on a walk in the woods to collect firewood after dinner, which was a delight, and especially welcomed by the dog, whom I forgot to take on my run. She’s still in a grump 6 hours later!
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| Teviot 260307 |
Glorious warm(ish) day with soft hazy sunshine. Spent the morning raking then re-mowing the southern section of garden, which was a pretty severe test for the poor beleagured rib. Dropped the boys in Morebattle for a party (another one!!) at 2 pm and carried on to Whitton to unload, dismantle and retrieve the shelves from my shed and former Alarms for Farms HQ. Headed straight to the Hownam road and started up Wideopen Hill in shorts and T-shirt, for the first time this year, I think. Rib had been really achey this morning after sleeping in a dodgy position, but by mid-afternoon was feeling miles better, either because of or in spite of the morning's exertions. Hardly felt it on the run, and with the cold / cough cleared up, I felt like a new man, and decided to extend the run from wideopen Hill along to Hownam Law. Felt strong and liberated all the way, and enjoyed having to run hell-for-leather down the long gradual descent to Hownam Grange in order to get back in time to collect the wee men. Treated myself to some disgusting birthday cake with black icing(!) and a chipolata. Went for a family walk (minus Ellie, who's in London for the week) through the woods. Gorgeous dappled light through the trees, but couldn't find my bumbag and camera when I looked, so you'll have to take my word for it.
Assenbled the shelving in my office, which now looks like a cave, but at least the stock is now accessible and organised.
Bit of a mad day in store, with a wedding in Edinburgh for Anna, flute and a car-journey to London for Ellie, a birthday party for Hamish and clumsy, disorganised me charged with coordinating it all (apart from the wedding, thank heavens!)
Set off in glorious warm sunshine at
Remainder of the day went to script, apart from Toby’s tantrum at having to leave Hamish’s pal’s party before the fun started, and a universal refusal to eat the curry I made for dinner. Hamish was full of cake, Anna can’t handle anything feistier than salt ‘n’ vinegar crisps, Oscar doesn’t eat meat and Toby wanted, with all his heart, to cut straight to the pudding. I cleaned all their plates and spent the evening sitting on the sofa like Buddha.
Anna was in Edinburgh for the day, and Hamish was off school with a serious ailment that mysteriously cleared up at about 9:15 am. This meant that I got to spend the day working in my office to the soundtrack of the three boys waging war on each other and whatever pirates, aliens and bad-guys where foolish enough to show themselves. Even Duncan the Citylink driver wasn't spared the cudgel on his daily pick-up.
Anna arrived home around 5, and I nipped out for a quick half hour to Lempitlaw and back with the dogs. Felt I was able to work the lungs a bit, which was welcome progress, although the old legs felt a bit wooden. A few weeks ago I was scrabbling around for races to do through March and April. Now glad that there's a lengthy gap in the calendar coinciding with my incapacitation. Should be right as rain in time for the Boat Race in mid-May, although I'll need to treat myself to a few long outings beforehand.
Bit of a red-letter day on the house-build. Having conquered the barren wastes of the Planning department, I've now conned the Ecology Building Society into lending me £110,000, which should fund the build. Exciting times ahead!
After last night's nadir, things could really only get better on the running front. Perhaps rejuvinated by the sudden apparent advent of Spring I took the dogs out for half an hour and managed to move at a much more respectable clip around the local fields. Running uphill is still pretty uncomfortable, but the rib has now subsided to a constant dull ache, which is what I remember from previous broken ribs, rather than the screaming spasms that have hitherto characterised this one. Long may it continue to improve.
Went to Ellie's play in the evening, which was startlingly professional and polished. Expected the usual chaotic primary school performance, but this was in a different league entirely, and Ellie, despite her loss of voice, held together superbly.
Ellie’s birthday. Woken at 5 am by one of the kids galumphing along the corridor for a wee, and couldn’t find a comfortable position to lie in. Lay awake till
Spent a couple of hours in lovely afternoon sunshine (in a T-shirt for the first day of spring!) cutting the grass. Even using a petrol mower, this was a very good workout for the ribs. Now that the initial inflammation has gone down, there’s a clearly discernable dent and a sharp lump alongside. Poking either with a finger is very sore. So, I can attest, is having one or other of the twins land on it elbow-first.
By the time I knocked off and was about to go for a run, Anna had succumbed to “strep throat”, which is like a mysterious and highly potent form of tonsillitis. Anna has spectacularly plump tonsils at the best of times, and any bug that gets in there has a field day. She’d taken to bed with a fever and was in a shocking state. Drove her and all the boys to the Health Centre and got her some anti-biotics. Immediately we arrived home she had to drag herself off to
Wind still blowing, carrying occasional light snow showers through the day. Rib not quite as bad a yesterday, probably because the hacking cough has backed off a bit. Ran the same route as yesterday during a sunny snow-flurry, but about 4 minutes quicker. Started quite briskly to get warm, but had to ease up when the breathing and jiggling became too sore.
Rib much more painful today. Tip-toed around the house waiting for the next spasm, and crept out in a bitter wind for a bare minimum run around the fields. Out for 25 minutes, which was more than enough. Difficult to keep warm as I was moving so slowly.
Slouchy morning at home while Anna went to work. Very windy again. I’m convinced it’s been the windiest winter I’ve experienced. No major storms, but it just seems to blow for weeks at a time. Made the mistake of hanging a load of washing out on the whirligig, which then buckled under the spinnaker-effect and bent at ground-level, for the second time in a fortnight.
Dragged the mower out of mothballs for the first time since last summer and spent 10 minutes trying in vain to get it going, torturing hell out of my ribs in the process. Took Anooshka out for 36 minutes very steady running in Bowmont Forest, and discovered that after a few minutes, once the endorphins had kicked in, I was able to run in only moderate pain, as long as I kept the work-rate somewhere between washing-the-dishes and painting-the-ceiling. Any incline that elevated my breathing above a very gentle puff brought stabs of pain. March, I fear, is going to go down as something of a wasted month where running’s concerned. Even my running, though, far outstrips the performance of BT, who continue to frustrate my attempts to have an internet connection of any sort in the house. They are unable to send an engineer until the end of the month, purely to decide whether it will be possible to re-energise the second line that was connected in the house until the day before we moved in. Quite unbelievable. Council planning department still being completely useless and obstructive, as it happens. Why are big organisations so utterly, utterly crap?
You’re gonna love this! Ellie was having a pool party in advance of Wednesday’s 12th birthday, and I was feeling chipper enough to join in fully with her exuberant school pals in their energetic larking about. Until, that is, I was dislodged from the top of a large inflatable octopus and landed ribs-first on the head of a very hard-headed kid called Harry. Honestly think I’ve bust a rib. Bleedin’ agony, which just got progressively worse through the afternoon. Unable to breath deeply, cough or, heaven forbid, sneeze without whimpering like a wet puppy. You can imagine the degree of sympathy this elicits from Anna. None, since you ask. In fact, she reminded me with a hint of derision that I missed a week’s running the summer before last after injuring a shoulder in the Dads’ sack race at the school sports day.
Hamish announced that he would like to come on the run today, and as I knew that I’d be lucky to get to the end of the garden, I was happy to let him.
No chance to run until after dark today. Felt a fair bit better than yesterday, with just swollen glands and a sore throat. Trotted out for an easy 28 minutes towards Linton and back.
Ellie’s turn last night. Came through in the small hours complaining of major nausea, but stoically managed to keep the contents of her stomach to herself. I awoke feeling wretched – horrible chest, sicky guts and totally drained. Worked at half-speed all day and dragged myself out for a 26-minute shuffle in
Oscar was violently sick at the end of a racking coughing fit in the night. We both rushed through to help, only to discover that the clever little chap had held a little back. The second volley managed to catch Anna and me, so all three of us, his pillow, sheet and duvet were all liberally pebble-dashed! I woke with a sore throat and a horrible cough that seemed to originate in my boots. From this low point I ventured out into the real world to finish the job I bottled out of last Thursday. Knocked it off by lunchtime, with none of the trauma of last week. Feeling washed out and rough, so just nipped out with both dogs for a gentle 35 minutes around the fields before dinner.
Had to go to Whitton to retrieve a couple of things from the shed, so packed my kit and intended to run from there. Brian was buzzing around and I felt awkward running around the farm now that we no longer live there, so I left and planned to run after dark on the road. The light on the hills was so gorgeous that I diverted to the ford over the Kale and ran to the top of Wideopen Hill on
Another manic Monday at work. Lovely and sunny outside, with a brisk breeze. Had to drop a load at the post office in Kelso before closing-time, so took my kit and had a run along the
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| Teviot 120307 |
A mercy-dash to Cranshaws to sort out the Aussies’ dead oven gave me the chance of a more interesting run. Did the needful in their house, then set out across the hills to Greenhope to photograph Bill Landale’s sun-house and then on to Abbey St. Bathans along the Whiteadder. What a gorgeous spot Abbey is, tucked away in its own little valley and time-zone. Full of bohemians and Dobies, and a lovely atmosphere about the place. Flagging after an hour and inexplicably sore feet. Forgot to carry food, and Landales and Dobies all out at church so I couldn’t scrounge any. Waddled back through the woods along the Southern Upland Way and up over the hill to Cranshaws. About 1 hr 50 in all, but would have been 5 or 10 minutes quicker if I hadn’t wobbled so much on the way home. Lovely run, and a joy to be on old fondly-trodden trails again. Fancy getting the guys up for an ultra later in the year. Either an individual attempt on the St. Cuthbert’s Way record (62 miles from Melrose to Lindisfarne) or a relay along the Southern Upland Way, 212 miles coast to coast, for which Carnethy hold the record at something like 27 hours, I think. Any takers?
Another day, another poodly little excuse for a run. The rest of the guys on the challenge seem to be doing remarkable things. Chris is unstoppable and setting personal bests in every race. Crispin is punctuating his long periods of indolence with mammoth runs in the Welsh hills, Chaz is walking seemingly hours and hours every evening and, I imagine, shifting a fair amount of surplus blubber en route and Dave is training like a man possessed for the London Marathon. By contrast, I’m sneaking out each afternoon for a pretty pointless half-hour trot purely to keep the unbroken sequence going. Today’s offering, like so many before it, was about 35 minutes around the local farmland, neither grindingly slow nor blisteringly fast. Just never seem to find the time for anything else. Business, family and plans for house-build seem to devour every spare minute, and on top of it all I’m continually knackered. Took Hamu swimming this morning and watched delighted as he learned, with several excruciatingly funny early attempts, to dive in the deep end and swim back to the side. Finished with a magnificent belly-flop, the slap from which turned every head in the pool! Definitely a chip off the old block.
Seem to have recovered almost completely from yesterday’s brief excursion into the real world (although it’s not something I’ll take so lightly again!) and spent today working like a dervish – a sedentary cerebral dervish – until
Released from child-minding duties at 5 by Anna and I nicked out for a steady half hour around the fields before dinner. Legs heavy again, but had an enjoyable trundle in lovely evening sunshine. Had a scowling match with a broken-nosed game-keeper who didn’t like the look of Anooshka running free-range so close to his pheasant pens. He followed 10m behind me for the last mile, willing the dog to step out of line, but she did me proud.
Actually went out to work this morning for the first time in yonks, and what a frustrating and unrewarding time I had. The experience left me so traumatised that I knocked off at
Events, dear boy, (i.e. taxi-ing Ellie home from school) contrived to have me in
Sloshed around the mud in Bowmont Forest for 35 minutes in late afternoon rain. amazed to meet several dog-walkers braving it all. Strange compulsion, but then they probably thought the same about mine!
Running and life in general curtailed by a crappy cold / throat bug that never really came to anything but left me knackered after the most gentle exertion, such as carrying three small boys up stairs at once. Dragged myself out each day for a 25 - 30 minute plod to keep the sequence going. Very busy with work, so runs have been at the arse-end of the day.
Today went for a dental treatment - my third visit in 27 years (the previous one was a fortnight ago) and had a vigorous 45-minute mugging from a pleasant young (ridiculously young!) Belfast lad, who set about my mouth with various tools of torture and considerable gusto, then stuck me for £115 at the end of it. Still - £115 for 27 years' dental care probably isn't too bad! Visit from BT again in the afternoon. Once again, completely fruitless. The engineers come, tell you that the broadband's not working, pass the buck to anyone they can think of, then leave. Have resigned myself to never having a connection while living here. Borrowing access from Jean and the computer shop in Kelso is a pain in the ass, but I don't really have any alternative. It makes me so bloody cross that they're too lazy to do their job and investigate the line prroperly, and dealing with a faceless monolith like BT, there's no chance of ever reaching anyone accountable. All of that set me up for a much better run than of late, and I nipped out in lusty wind and driving rain when the kids were in bed and hammered it along the road for half an hour. Felt much better afterwards.
Manic day's work, with both phone ringing simultaneously throughout the day and a stack of orders to shift. Still pretty under the weather. Boys significantly better, although still off-colour and off nursery. Didn't get a chance to go out until 9:30 p.m., by which time everyone else was fast asleep. Took Anooshka out for 25 minutes gentle running on the road towards Caverton Mill. Nice and steady, and didn't feel too bad. The run woke me up completely, and I was buzzing when I got back. Chatted for a while to mum until I had to abort the call and tend to Oscar who was enjoying a spetacular coughing fit. Couldn't get to sleep until well after midnight, then we were awoken by Ellie in the thoes of an asthma attack brought on by playing hockey in the cold weather, and again by Oscar, with whom I eventually swapped beds in the small hours. This musical beds is a fabby game, and I can't recommend it highly enough!
Toby sick serially through the night, so Anna and I had a bit of a shocker. Felt pretty crook myself all day with a sore throat, headache and dodgy guts. Oscar deteriorated through the day and by the afternoon was puking profusely, and wretching painfully and tearfully when there was nothing left to puke. Somehow managed to avoid the chundering myself, which was unexpected, as in my student days I was well-known for my disconcertingly frequent rainbow yawns which I performed, I like to think, with a certain panache. Really had to drag myself out for the duty-run in Bowmont Forest, but discovered that running wasn't any more unpleasant than not running. Easy pace for about 25 minutes.
Feeling a bit guilty at having deserted the hills since leaving Whitton, so drove all of three miles to Linton and ran through Linton Burnfoot Farm and up Highside. Enjoyed it so much that I carried on straight down the other side to meet the road at Crookedshaws, then turned on my heel and reversed the route, running out along the ridge for a bit towards Linton Hill before dropping back down to Burnfoot. Nice run. About 35 minutes.
Afternoon torpor set in again, so nicked out for a livener after lunch with a belly full of home-made lentil soup while waiting for the Aussies to arrive for tea. As usual, perked up after a while, although it took longer than usual. Enjoyed a steady hour-long trot around the farmland to the east of the house through Lurdenlaw and Lempitlaw. Took in a strangely non-descript and hard-to-find trig point on The Kip, hidden by bracken and overlooked by a very cute Scots pine beside some kind of water-works. Read Chris' and Dave's entries on the One Pound Challenge calendar and felt like a bit of a lazy git. Must get some long runs in and find a few races...
Sleepy in the afternooon yet again, but perked up when I headed out with Anooshka. Ploughed a straight furrow across the farmland to the east to the top of Linton Hill. Took exactly half an hour to get there, and would have been a bit quicker on the return leg, so detoured to the derelict cottage on the farm to make up the hour.
Pretty tired all day, and loads of work to plough through. Finally headed out early evening for a steady half hour around Bowmont Forest.
Picked Ellie up from school and took her straight to the track, where she ensconced herself in the ladies changing room with a table and got stuck into her homework. Out on the track we got stuck into a session of 3 x 1500 and 1 x 500. All recoveries 3 minutes. Legs a bit jellyish on the first rep, but seemed to get better as the session progressed. Times were 5:03, 5:01, 4:58 and 1:31.
Marathon around Asda afterwards, which Ellie certainly enjoyed more than I did!
Absolutely dog-tired all afternoon, and the sun had given way to grey and drizzle. Didn’t get a chance to run until the kids were tucked up in bed, by which time it was very dark. Brief duty-run on the road turned into a bit of a road-to-Damascus moment. Immediately I set off I discovered that my legs wanted to run hard, and the planned 25-minute jog turned into a 45-minute burn-up via Linton Bankhead and the Yetholm back-road. Pretty hilly. Felt like I was flying, which may have been an illusion encouraged by the dark. I’ve noticed before that it’s easier to run hard on the road when it’s dark, or lashing with rain. The same impression can also be achieved by drinking a few pints before a run, but I don’t think that in such circumstances the impression is totally reliable! Finished with a 10-minute jog / stumble along the potholed farm track back to the house. No bloody hot water for a decent bath. Decided that I really ought to hammer out a few hard road miles each week to try to coax a bit of speed back into the legs, and perhaps even think about a couple of road-races later in the year.
Couldn’t bear another flat boring run from the house, so contrived a trip to Morebattle (all of three miles away!) and drove round to the foot of Wideopen Hill. Planned to run straight to the top and down again, but the late afternoon light was so gorgeous that, despite very tired heavy legs, I ran out along the ridge towards Hownam Law and stretched the run to about 45 minutes. Very last vestiges of snow still visible on the Cheviot. Took quite a few pictures, which don’t quite convey how bonny it was up there.
Called through by Oscar at
Too busy with boys (Hamish off school with tonsils) and work all day, so crept out for a run at
Anyway – no photos today because I really couldn’t see the point.
No stiffness from yesterday, and a gorgeous clear sunny day. Bundled the kids, including Hamish’s infected and swollen tonsils into the car and drove them to Norham for the last fixture in the Borders cross Country Series. I won this last year, but didn’t fancy my chances this year, especially with Carnethy in my legs (although after my efforts with the pot-scrubber – no longer ON them). When Brian Marshall turned up 10 minutes before the start I know my goose was cooked.
Bit of a mad charge at the start, during which I settled into 4th spot, with fellow Gala Harrier Rory Methven pushing the pace up front. Reeled him in over the next few hundred metres and took the lead after about ten minutes. Lovely winding course through woods and along a river-valley. Several stream-crossings. Could hear heavy footsteps immediately behind, and confirmed that it was Brian. Held him there for a few minutes until we hit a wide, straight level section where he effortlessly pulled away. Managed to hold 2nd place, gradually putting distance between myself and a spry young City of
Drove to the Pentlands for the Carnethy 5. This is the curtain-raiser for the hill-running season, and is always a real quality affair. All the best Scottish hill runners turn out, along with a few of the good guys from south of the border. It starts with a 400m flat runs across boggy ground followed by a long steady climb up Scald Law – the highest hill in the range. Avoided the usual cavalry-charge across the bog and started the climb in about 35th place. Gradually picked off runners on the way up, including Chris Upson, who seemed to have set off more sensibly than usual. Reached the summit in the low 20s and legged it out to South Black Hill and around to East Kip on the heels of an inspired Jamie Thin, who appeared to be running out of his skin. Pushed it a bit hard and had a pretty dismal ascent of East Kip, during which I lost a couple of places, notably to Kenny from Bellahouston, whom I have beaten by a few seconds in this race for the last two years. Rallied a bit on the descent and the climb of West Kip. Summited with Kenny, who then trounced me on the steep tussocky drop into the valley. I tried to haul him and Jamie in on the flat section to the Howe but by the time we reached the foot of Carnethy I was still a good 60m adrift, and sitting in about 22nd spot. I always seem to have a bit left in the tank for this final climb, and I gradually closed them down. Kenny was passed just before the gully, but Jamie was still running strongly and seemed out of reach. Enjoyed a bit of a ding-dong with Malcolm Patterson, leap-frogging repeatedly until I finally broke him on the last heave to the summit.
By common consent, the route marked for the descent of Carnethy was one of the worst ever, and gratuitously technical through long rough heather. No-one within range ahead – Jamie was well out of reach - and no-one threatening from behind, so after stumbling swearily and falling arse-over-tit a couple of times I coasted to the finish in 55:02 for 19th place. My stated objectives before the race were top-20 and sub-55 minutes. If I’d remembered to pack a watch I’d have achieved both. As it was, I was left ruefully reflecting on my lazy trundle across the last 400m, during which I could easily have picked up 10 seconds if I’d known I was close to the target. Manny, Nige and Chris all finished within about half a minute of one-another, with Nige leading the charge in a shade over 56 minutes. Rob Jebb won, Jethro Lennox was second and Brian Marshall 7th. Strange absence of fatigue at the end, and ran the three miles back to Peniculk comfortably with Chris, Nige and Jane. By the way – what’s the special ingredient in Pentland mud? After hanging around in Peniculk eating chicken pie and potato-leatherette and waiting in vain for the prize-giving, then driving home, feeding the troops, flogging through the childrens’ bedtime routine and finally finding time to jump in the shower at
