Public Hanging and other Charitable Deeds 19/05/13

Tired legs and tired in general. Nothing like standing around in fresh air and rain (yesterday) to wear you out. Our first business today was to go along to the public hanging at South Queensferry where Mary's sister Karen (Big Red) was being lowered off the rail bridge (Big Red).

We arrived to find a substantial parked queue of cars all the way up the hill out of SQ. Surely this couldn't be for Karen's abseil? Unfortunately it was. Which proves there is an appetite for public hangings. After wandering around and seeing all there was to see from either side of the goings on, we located Karen and pals who were raising money for Chest Heart and Stroke.

The whole thing was running like a smoothly oiled machine, with folk being suited and booted in the Hawes Inn then walked up 10minutes to the bridge and along the walkway below to the point where they lowered themselves to the beach. A steady stream of gloves, helmets and harnesses were moving round this circuit with hundreds of drops raising £130,000 for the charity. When I say drops I mean abseils – there seemed to be quite a successful crew of safety people ensuring no objects (including volunteers) were falling from the bridge on to the spectators.

Due to yesterday's exertions and the less than photogenic weather we got pretty restless in no time at all, and after Karen was safely on the ground again we headed off to Cramond for a run. We parked next to the Cramond Inn and witnessed the Kiltwalk setting off. Or possibly the Wee Walk section of the Kiltwalk. Man alive is this weekend charidee epicentre of the year? You couldn't go anywhere in Edinburgh without having to give a tenner to a worthy cause. I think the Kiltwalk is like a Moonwalk but with more gravity. And men in skirts. Happily it was all away up Cramond Glebe Rd and we were going up the Almond. The river was swollen and syrupy brown with all the fallen rain. The smell of the wild garlic was outstanding or was I just a bit hungry?

Mary had agreed to 2.5 miles out and the same back and not a penny more. We were both weary from yesterday so I didn't complain too much about such a short run. The garlic, the birds, the flowers and stuff were a pretty distraction and it was all over a little too soon. Over the Cramond Brig and into the Dalmeny grounds then up a road we don't normally go. 

A couple of spring lambs (number 23 and number 23) were exploring the boundaries of their world. Mary discovered the double whammy road (it climbs it descends it climbs again) where she will be leading training sessions at a later and unspecified date. She refused to go just around the corner to see the steam coming off the field. 

The air was still and suddenly really quiet (apart from the invisible jets overhead taking off from the airport.) I think it was just the distance from traffic and noisy children, but all you could hear was the birds. It put us both in a really good mood where previously I for one was a bit tired and cranky. We enjoyed the way back to the car – ducklings on the Almond, garlic on the riverbank. And we found an overgrown brick bomb-shelter which we dared each other to go in. It was utterly pitch black inside and there was every chance it housed a large beast with furry paws and claws.

On the way home we parked in Tescos and Mary popped in for soup for lunch. Listening to gentle music I nodded off as the trudging Kiltwalkers plodded along the cyclepath next door.  

Muckle Toon Monster

Langholm Trail Half Marathon 18/05/13

Well that was the hardest half marathon I've ever done. The weather was inclement but it was the course that was tough. Really full on. Which is a good thing. At around 4 miles I was thinking how can this go on for another 9 – we're done for! However, back to the start.

wonder who travels in here?

I had an entry for Goatfell Hill Race but for various reasons (bad weather, transportation, SHR champs, etc.) I cancelled my place and opted for the borders trails instead.

Graham Henry drew this to our attention a couple of weeks ago. Langholm, the Muckle Toon, Dumfriesshire, was putting on the Muckle Toon Adventure Festival. Featuring a trail half marathon. Promising a huge climb in the first mile or two and lots of bike trails and mud. He signed up, as did Mary and Amanda but by the time I'd finished my recent work and “banked the cheque” as it were, the inaugural event was SOLD OUT. I was gutted and emailed and phoned the organisers as usually in such events there is a waiting list or someone might drop out. It was unclear how many places were up for grabs initially for the Half and 10k, but judging by the number of runners today (allowing for a rainy no show percentage) it wasn't a huge crowd. It looked to be around 150 on the start line maybe, but difficult to tell. 

Anyway after keeping me on tenterhooks all week (wtf is a tenterhook?), the marvellous Eve phoned on Friday to say a withdrawal meant I had a place. I was beginning to think I was on marshalling/photo duties. A long way to go (2hr+ drive) for a stand in the rain. Friday was lovely weather – the first day of warmth and summer. However the forecast for Saturday was a low sky full of bad news and sadly for the lovely organisers all that and more came true. Really they had gone to great lengths to put on a big field of entertainment and attractions and mountain bikey events and 2 running races. It may have been a little too ambitious to have it all at the same time but you can see why they would. Sadly the rain fell, the field turned to swamp and spirits did their best not to fall. It was a long way to travel for a race but if it had been sunny this would have been absolutely spectacular. It still was, really. Just damper.

It was good to meet Greig G on the start line. He had a brilliant London Marathon but was disappointed with a measly 2.40! He probably still had it in his legs, and as we set off down the road to Langholm we chatted about this and that, bracing ourselves for the advertised climb up and out of the town. (A profile of the race route on the website was the only clue to where we were going.) A crowd had gathered in the town centre and as we turned the corner they cheered and there was a Pipe Band that blasted the top of your head off. They stood either side of the narrow street and the noise was tremendous. Such that I only just heard the guy with the megaphone say 10k-ers right, Half Marathoners left. The five in front went right and I would have followed such was the effect of the Pipe Band, except Greig went left and I followed him instead. He was now first and I was in second place. As the street rose up to near vertical I bade him farewell. It turned from paving stone to dirt trail and out the back of the small town, rising quickly and turning into a hill race. About the dimensions of Dumyat or Gypsy Glen, except when you got to the top of the 1,000' climb you had another 11 or 12 testing miles of running left.

As we went up the long slog of a climb the guy overtaking me threw his long sleeved top to the marshal and put his vest back on. It was warm enough alright and happily I had worked this out in the car park and returned my helly to the car before we started. It was the rain making the day seem unpleasant, but once you got going it was warm enough. I was overtaken by around 5 guys and at various points I slowed to a walk with hands on knees. I was pacing this like the 2 short hill runs recently hoping my endurance would last longer than a handful of miles. Eventually (after a long and very hellish stomp up paths running with water) a monument loomed out the mist, round which we ran then turned onto a quad bike cinder/gravel path which went off into the gloom.

In a short distance I could see the guy ahead. The route appeared to be marked quite well although when it began to descend on a zig zag path the 2 ahead stopped and searched for the next marker and we all wandered for a few seconds while Keith from Teviotdale and another couple threatened to catch us up. Cursing, a young dude with backpack tried to squeak back through to what was evidently the correct route and I followed him. People had been trying to be too clever taking a direct line rather than the switch back and a bit of this was evident as we proceeded, but quickly we settled into a rhythm with Greig out front, Backpack behind by a hundred yards and me slightly closer to Backpack. I enjoyed the next section which contoured along the hill, slightly dropping but on off-cambered grassy paths often running with streams of water. It took a considerable effort to maintain a speed but shortly I could no longer hear anyone behind and if anything I was catching Backpack. I have no idea why anyone would carry a backpack – even a small empty one – in a half marathon.

We saw Grieg way below head all the way out and down to a fence which then zagged back in the direction we had come. Backpack dropped directly towards Greig cutting off corners. Now the route here was well marked with yellow tape on pegs every 100 yards following a quad bike trail and I felt if it was a hill race or adventure race maybe it was acceptable to cut corners within 10m of the tapes, but a half marathon you should follow the course. I ran to the end of the turnaround in order to show a better example to the runners following. We then hit a series of nice descents on gravelly paths where I had to work to keep Backpack in sight. I would occasionally see Greig on longer straights but felt it would be good to keep Backpack in sight as there was huge potential for getting lost. I wasn't sure about his navigation skills but at least it gave me some input. At this point I believed I was in 3^rd place, though not absolutely certain. A few shuffles had taken place but also I lost count of everyone who had gone past on the first hill. Notably on the Ochils runner who had nipped ahead of Greig and was currently in first. He must have had a substantial lead as I didn't see him after the first hill.

From there, there were twists and turns, road crossings, muddy stepped descents, a climb up to a marshal at six miles, some fast muddy single track, gravelly wider bits, small lakes to jump over, big puddles to run through. All manner of heavy going. Bike trails were involved though I didn't see any bikes on the trails. Some were spectacular; cutting a thin muddy line along a big drop off to the left (near 9 miles) other bits of long straight road (10miles) quite tiresome!

We passed lots of 10k-ers, who were doing a condensed version of our route. I said well done to each one and got many a well done back. The atmosphere was very jolly and I tried not to take my potential podium place too seriously. (While all the time keeping an eye on the progress of the next dude behind, who was wearing a non-running-club top. Happily he seemed to be falling back.)

Backpack picked it up along the 9~10mile riverside bike trails. He was good on the off-road stuff but I caught him up on the tiresome road at 10. A marshal directed the halfers left and 10k-ers right. We could hear the PA system of the start/finish area but since the Garmin said 10miles I thought we would possibly be going on a wild goose chase for 2 or 3 miles. Sure enough along the tarmac road. I wished for the comfort of Hokas but the superior grip of the Inov8s was a must for today more than half being on VERY muddy trails. Eve, when I spoke on the phone to confirm my place, had, after a think about it, suggested hill shoes over trail shoes. No doubt about it that was the correct answer. I would have been down on the ground several times today if I had worn the Hokas. My left foot felt a bit sore around 8 miles but no pain since then and I'm hoping it was just a passing ouch.

Corpse feet

So along to the riverside paths and we come upon a junction with a black arrow (white b/g) pointing left and a black arrow (green background) pointing right/straight on. I wished I had been paying attention when they said (if they said) which were our arrows and which were the bike event arrows. I saw Backpack had gone left and noticed yellow tape hanging from branches in that direction and so followed. I suspected the combination of very taxing terrain and so many junctions would result in a few wrong turns. I did my best to keep Backpack in view. Although I reminded myself to not accept his route blindly. Every marshal we passed I asked for clues as to what was coming up next. They were almost all really helpful. Towards the end a girl with an umbrella directed me correctly along the path. At the end of that there was another junction leading up or down. An arrow pointed up but I felt we had already been up that way, so I went down. Eventually there was a gloriously fast tarmac descent to the 10k/half split and I knew we were into the last section – back along the road to the finish. The descent had taken me closer to Backpack though I worried he would get wind of this from the cheers and applause of the folk who a moment before, had been cheering him. I got close but never close enough to make a dash for it and shortly we were steered into the field in which it all started, to do a victory lap before the finish. I did not particularly enjoy the 3 sides of the soggy grass field although I was deeply relieved to finish and retain what I felt was a podium place. (I hadn't seen the dude behind for quite some while.) Then the Ochils runner went past and I asked was he Half or 10k. He told me he was lead half and had got ahead of Greig on the initial climb. But where was Greig? He appeared around the 2hr mark having taken the wrong turn (possibly the uphill after the umbrella girl), run for a bit then realised he was lost and slowly made his way to a damp and regretful finish. So he ran in 2^nd place till 12.5miles he reckoned. Bummer. He took it in very good grace – it could easily have been any of us. I moved back up onto the podium. Result!

Ochils and I (being hard as nails!) hosed ourselves down with the cold water bike cleaning hose, shunning the warmth of the rugby club showers (which I only saw after scrubbing the caked mud from my legs.) I got changed in the partly submerged car park field then chatted with Amanda, Graham and Alison till Mary came home looking good in her first race in ages. She chose just about as tough a race as you'll find for it but in some ways that worked well since the times for this Half don't relate to any other half I've ever done. I was so jiggered at the finish line I forgot to stop my stopwatch and Garmin but it seemed to have been about 1.37. I would imagine my road half time around the low 1.20s, and Forfar Multi was under 1.26.

As people came in there were, as anticipated, quite a few tales of extra miles and wrong turns. However nobody was seriously put out. And nobody said it wasn't hard enough. Top marks to Langholm for putting on such a bold race. I feel gutted for them that they got such bad weather, a real stinker of a day. They put a huge amount of energy into the route setting/marking, marshalling and organisation and we really appreciated it. Hopefully it will become a regular fixture.

Graham's smile said it all. Ear to ear. Himself and Amanda were in a similar part of the field, AGH getting ahead on the hilly stuff at the start, GH appearing on the flat at 10 miles cheering and shouting, goading Amanda on to a brilliant first place. I was sure Amanda would do well today as she is a great competitor at hill races and the cross country. Today's course was exactly that with a road 10k stirred in as well. If there had been a mixed team prize we may well have been in line for it.

After prizes we spent another couple of hours driving home. We were lucky to get the van out the sodden car park without pushing! It was a shame to turn down Scott's delightful invite to dinner but we'd a never got home or showered and I would be very drunk and it was best to get home and wash out shoes and muddy kit. As we drove home the skies darkened around Lauder and it looked like the end of the world was approaching. Just filthy weather. Glad to get home.

Route profile (and results may appear) here
Mary's Garmin map and report here

Horatio prepares for the apocalypse

Cold Showers, Hot Showers

Gypsy Glen 15/05/13

One of the few things with Gypsy in the title that is good quality. Unfortunately the weather was still a bit...

We were obliged to start exactly on the dot of 7pm as the Police, working independently, were stopping the traffic at the road crossing 600 yards into the race at one minute past. We stood in the cool air, cooling. The evenings have been an “interesting” mix of sun and showers – yesterday pm Johnny got hail, whereas later on I got sunshine and blue skies. The forecasters are fighting to see who can combine as many icons into the same graphic. I think they might start using question marks if this continues.

Ian McManus, setting off early, with a half devilish number.

We set off along the riverside path and over the bridge, across the road (traffic-calmed) and into the playing field, past the finish. Andrew and I had gone for a bit of a warm up along to where it goes off-roady and on the way back I bribed the finish marshal and her daughter to look after my camera and rain jacket, with a smile. They were very obliging as long as I didn't require photos taken. It wasn't really an evening for photos otherwise I may have carried the camera up the hill.

Keith M: not sure why I was being fingered.

After about 4 minutes Johnny appeared and I was thinking he was doing well to avoid the early rush. I was on the outskirts of the top ten but knew pretty much nothing we did here would have much bearing on the race. There was a bit of undulation and on the down I overtook someone else. Johnny came past and was still visible until we hit the hill proper and he disappeared off with the leaders – a gang of four or five Carnethy / Moorfoot mix. I say leaders but really they were followers. An Edinburgh University teenager had set off at 5k pace chasing Al Anthony's record. We “let” him go unsure whether he would win by miles or explode half way up the hill. (The former, but sadly, missed the record by seconds.)

The hill from the finish line.

Someone asked in the changing rooms what the hill was called. Best not print the reply.

I was pleased to overtake a young Carnethy who had set off a little quickly. It is a bonus to overtake anyone on the hill. Keith said he was catching me, by which he meant “you were rubbish running uphill.” (This much I know.) I don't know how far behind he started but I think if the the hill was long enough Ian McManus would eventually overtake me. Ian, I owe an apology: I saw him last week at Dumyat and suggested he wasn't racing. He was. Only, rather than set off at the same time as everyone, and finish a considerable time afterwards, he takes the precaution of setting off around 40 minutes early so that he can spend the midpart of the race in company. Good tactic, plus he allows the marshals to minimise their time on the hill, a blessing in these conditions.

There are some woods then some grassy and heathery hills. Way, way off ahead a green vest crested the horizon. What appears to be the top is only a false summit and after a bit of lessening of gradient you carry on climbing to the true top. From the finish line you can a see a hump then the summit proper. I had forgotten this from last time I ran possibly 3 or 4 years ago. Like stepping on the scales these days I look up old results with trepidation – not sure if I want to know what form I was in then, vs now. Maybe tomorrow when / if I am feeling stronger. (I checked, and in 2010 I was a full minute quicker although less wind, it was warm and no rain.) There are 2 gates and I cleverly let other folk open them. I raced to keep up with 2 Ochils and another at the first; they got away but I let another (all grey kit to match the sullen skies,) overtake and manhandle gate number 2. I followed Captain Grey to the top and as soon as it levelled off and hugged the wall in a delicate dance over rocky grassy single track I knew I'd be overtaking pretty quickly. We turned the far corner, the track widened and I went past looking to see how far the Ochils were up ahead. They looked a catchable distance and I reckoned one would be strong and one would drop behind. Also a figure in red.

On closer inspection it was Ian in his Tartan shorts and I didn't need to shout STAND STILL tonight. I had already apologised for last week's barked order, however he had understood my purpose and I think I was forgiven. I shouted encouragements to him and it occurred that I hadn't recognised him by any kind of aged stoop; that he has an admirably upright style and for an old git, is going pretty damn well! The next part of the route is glorious and I enjoyed the swooping rolling descent in confidence inspiring new shoes. When I saw all the rain I chose the Mudclaws over the Hokas as the hill shoes outgrip everything in the slippy.

Andrew

Then the gate. I yanked the vertical lever to the left and it clanged but didn't open. I did this several times in a row before engaging my brain which I'd temporarily disabled for the descent. There was a small latch that required lifting, as well as the sideways yank and it opened easily. (The gate not my brain.). Are the cattle and sheep so much more intelligent that they need more sophisticated gates here than in the Pentlands? First time I've come across this gate type and it wasn't just me it caught out.

The annoyance and short breather fuelled the next half mile and I flew down the hill relishing bombproof grip on off-cambers and slick mud patches. I did have to slow for the river and bridge crossing, catching sight of the 2 Ochils up ahead but unable to make much impression on the distance between us. One had fallen behind but not far enough.

Eventually there is a steep up to a kind of sand box at the top – another curiously unique stile or cattle deterring structure. Only its filled with mud not sand. One foot in, one out. Then the tarmac back to the playing field. I was pretty sure there was nobody on my shoulder. The soft applause of a marshal. As I ran on I couldn't hear her begin again. But the 2 or three ahead were not catchable. Then there is that last tarmac hill, short but steep, and I was glad not to have company, and a race for the line. Another marshal flagged us off the road and across the wet field of grass to the finish.

Sue Ridley

I retrieved my camera and jacket from the still very cheerful marshal and her daughter (how can they be having fun?) as the rain turned into a bit of a downpour. Graham, having a bit of to-and-fro with Sue Ridley, first lady, comes rocking in with a powerful sprint, chewing up the finish line. Andrew also gives it some welly, enjoying leaving a number of folk behind who probably got the better of him going up the hill. I think he forgot to pack his spare lungs. (Inhaler.)

We ran back to the hall with (I think) the third lady who was intriguingly wearing Vibram 5 Fingers and seemed to manage ok in them. The gravelly rock and mud bits can't have been easy. A nice touch was some cold pizza (the best kind!) and sandwiches and biscuits just outside the hall which more than made up for a quite short prize list. (v40 was the oldest they went and only 2 of those in either gender.) Best of all though: hot showers after all the cold showers. I had taken a fractionally larger towel this week (a Nike job nearer a 7 Hills towel in size. It was a prize a hundred years ago at a round Arthur Seat 5k that was so expensive I wouldn't pay for the entry and Mary had to. I know that's not logical but what can I say? I love this towel and take it to work where I wash paint off my hands 20 times a day.)

The antidote to a bracing run in the rain.

Andrew chauffeured us back through rainbowed skies in plenty time to watch the twats on The Apprentice. Now you would think if you were going to be on that programme you'd have watched a previous series, (any previous episode would be sufficient,) and work out what comes across as arrogant, foolish, bone-headed, gobby, pushy and unattractive. And not behave exactly like that. You would think?

Race results may appear here. http://www.scottishhillracing.co.uk/Home.aspx
or here... http://moorfootrunners.blogspot.co.uk/2013/04/gypsy-glen-hill-race-wed-15-may-2013.html

Here is something entirely different brought to mind by all those rainbows...