Great to see our marvellous Summer
weather continuing for this Carnethy organised bunfight. Mary had
kindly volunteered to drive us there although she wasn't tempted to
take part. Willie J was also in spectating role so the 2 of them
walked up the riverside trails and took photos as we passed. Good to
see a few Porties on the start line: Graham H, Andrew M, Richard H, Jim H (and myself). I
was supposed to be warming up before the race but kept stopping to
chat to all the folk I recognised, which seemed to be most of the
race. I had to sprint up and down the field at the last minute to get
limbered up.
Preston Lodge High School pipe band. I am not the biggest fan of this sort of music but it was pretty obvious these youngsters were top quality and very well rehearsed, suggesting a very talented bandleader at the helm.
More of a riverside trail race than a
hill race, this event gives me an advantage over the hill runners due
to the tarmac and trails, and an advantage over the road runners with
the rougher ground for the majority of the course. It felt liberating
not to have any agenda other than enjoy the run. There was nobody I
was really setting myself against and since Stewart Whitlie was on
the start line there wasn't any danger of being first over 50. That
and the sunshine left no room for anything other than a flat out
enjoyable romp over a brilliant course amongst pals – what could be
better?
Bill Gauld. At 80 years young, the man we all hope to emulate.
The first half mile is through East
Linton, under the bridge and sharp left onto the riverside trails.
Willie and Mary were taking photos here. Yes that is me running next
to Al Hart (first mv40). I do seem unable to pace myself for the start of any
race. Since the trail narrows to single file up to the river crossing
it's not a bad tactic to get in line sharpish and see if you can hold
onto the place. About 8½
minutes into the thing and the hazard tape leads us through
nettle infested grass then, before the stings have time to register,
into the cooling water! Shin deep, and slippy rocks where I stumbled
across, unable to see the bottom as the previous runners stirred up
the dirt.
The river crossing
Out the other side and a pretty harsh
steep bank for a bit. The start of the lead in to the climb. A tarmac
hill before dirt trails across a rising field and another road
crossing before the hill proper. After a 90' turn we approach the
steep rocky climb next to the quarry. Nobody ahead is using the rope.
I figure any relief from the leg work is beneficial so hand-over-hand
up the ropes quickly tiring my arms. There are maybe 3 lengths of
rope and I use them as much as possible. The angle eases off but
there is still much climbing over rocky ground till we get to the
top. We start running again and up ahead I see Bob Marshal running to
reposition himself and camera to take shots with the Bass Rock and
coast in the background. Later I joke that I am smiling in his photo
due to spending the entire race in a state of near ecstacy. And yet
that is not that far from the truth. Especially with the climb over,
you know that the rest is on descending trails and road to the
riverside paths with only a small section of undulating tarmac at the
end.
There are rocky dangers lurking in the
descent off Traprain Law and one year I saw Olly S badly twist an
ankle here. The Dunbar vest ahead has got a good lead for which I am
grateful as overtaking on this singletrack would prove difficult.
However I catch him on the lower ground and as he moves to the left I
overtake gasping “coming through on your right.” Over the stile
and onto a longish stretch of road where there is time to see how the
three or 4 ahead are managing. I reckon I might catch the distant
non-club top who has increased his lead greatly over the length of
the Law. It is significant that I am looking to the front to see who
I can catch, and not even considering the runners behind. (Nobody
came past me in the second half.) Young Ali R, 2 or 3 behind, was
gaining ground on the hilly bits (as no doubt were all the proper
hill runners,) but confidence is growing now we are past the crux.
Jill - first lady.
Willie J taking photos.
We are marshalled right, down farmer's
tracks that turn at perpendicular corners, skirting fields as we make
our way back towards the river. I am concerned to keep the guys ahead
in sight as I slowed to a near halt along this way a few years back,
uncertain about an unmarked turn before the bridge. I don't even see
it this year and the bridge appears without any problems. David F
(HBT) is coming down the grassy path towards me having mistaken the
tape marking the sharp right, and gone straight on. I can see how
that happened despite the yards of tape marking the turn back onto
the riverside path.
I wasn't the only one having fun.
I am now catching the non-club vest but
let David resume his race between us as I know he is in better shape
than myself. I try to keep pace but he quickly overtakes the runner
ahead and forges on, no doubt anxious to try and regain his previous
place. I forgot to ask how far he went before that awful realisation
sunk in. Non-club vest (Andrew) is now just ahead and no doubt not
enjoying having an old man wheezing close by his shoulder. I know the
stepped bit is approaching and decide to wait till after that to try
to get past. Andrew gets most of the way up the steps and moves to
the side to let me past but I am unable to do this without risking a
cardiac event, and wave him on. I get my breath in the next section
and then just before the last bridge I cruise past cutting across the
grassy stretch before the steepish hill and right turn onto the main
road.
Dr Neil
I recall only feelings of weariness
from previous years here, staggering through the village asking
bewildered strangers which way the race goes. However this year I am
feeling bouyant and turn up the volume, confident of the way. Maybe
the sunshine makes the difference. Ahead a distant Carnethy vest
confirms the course as do a few marshals at the crucial junctions. I
even make a bold attempt to catch the red vest ahead and reduce the
margin to 10 seconds, finishing with a respectable dash to the line.
There are fewer runners here than I thought and I later find I have
just scraped into the top ten. Better still, Stewart W has won
outright leaving the first mv50 prize to fall to me! I am delighted.
Mary and Willie were last spotted at
the river crossing a mile or more from the end, so I don't expect
them back in a hurry. They are further delayed by a young lad in his
second race who overcooked the first half and was suffering heat
exhaustion and collapsed just along the river from them. Various
runners stopped to assist, including (Dr.) Neil Jones so by the time
Mary got to the scene, there was little to be done other than wait
for the medic to assist the guy back to the finish.
There goes the pledge.
Meanwhile I was at the finish chatting
away to the Dunbar folk just as Anne Hay bought a round of ice creams
from the travelling Luca's vans. RESULT! Big thanks Anne, who also
won her age group. Great to see everyone out at the festival – the
weather being so much kinder than the last time I ran this race in
torrential rain with the festival suffering a complete wash out. A
brilliant day out – many thanks to the organisers, the marshals and
route setters, and to Willie, Mary, Bob and Lesley coming out, cheering and taking photos. It really does not get any better than
this.
Bob's photos here
Mary's blog and more photos here
Bob's photos here
Mary's blog and more photos here
Great race report Peter, a lot different to your beach running blogs!, As a non runner i read the pain involved, similar to when i once raced MTBs.
ReplyDeleteMy big bro Scot Mathieson won the Traprain race one year, around mid 1980s? sure someone who reads on here will know the year!
Now here's a funny thing Peter and Bruce! My wife was googling for photos of me on t'internet when your blogpost photo turned up. Why, thought I? Then I found Bruce's comment. Yes indeed, I did win the the Traprain Law race on June 12th(?) 1987. It was a week after my Marine Biology final exams and all I had done for about 3 months was study and train, including a LOT of track work at Meadowbank under the coaching of Malcolm Brown who let me train with his Edinburgh Uni track guys. My time was 41.28 which was, I think, the slowest time on the trophy at that point. Maybe still is. I beat Joe Forte ( for the first time - a notable scalp!) for 20 seconds, particularly as he fell iheadlong in the River Tyne at the crossing while trying to catch me! That win scored me a sports scholarship from East Lothian Council that got me free access to Meadowbank and to all the East Lothian sports facilities, which was brilliant! Ah, the glory days!
ReplyDeleteNice one Scot! You could always follow your bro's example and (re)start running again!
ReplyDeleteWatch this space!
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