Showers at Glenogle
Glenogle Ultra
02/11/13
I found the before and after
were the hard parts; actually running this race was pretty straight
forward. Getting up at 4.30am was harsh. I had meant to get to bed
nice and early and give myself half a chance at a decent night's
sleep but due to dicking around all day making a movie, by the time I
got my labels printed for the drop bags, and the contents sorted, and
the 17 different outfits to accommodate any weather condition, and
choice of bumbags, it was half past 4 hours sleep. Or less.
at Roly'clock in the morning
I have taken to listening to audiobooks
in order to cleanse my mind of intelligent thought, freeing the brain
up to sleep. Audiobooks are expensive but you can download them free
from the Library if you are prepared to limit yourself to books they
think you should read rather than books you would enjoy. As a result
I consume a little bit of science fiction most nights as a bedtime
story. This is further distorted because as I nod, I listen to more
than I hear (or vice versa) so I begin the following night's chapter
from a place further through the story than I remember. As it is a
fairly plodding novel (Fast Forward by Robert J Sawyer, and yes it was a tv series but with significant differences,) the cut and shut sleep-reading
improves the urgency of the writing adding a contemporary nuance missing from the prosaic original. I
feel I will have absorbed the text in a similar and appropriate
fashion to the characters of the novel who experience a snippet of
their future consciousness as they sleep.
30 miles away George was also having a
disturbed night. He texted at 5.23 to say he had arrived and we drove
through the deserted streets and out onto the delightfully quiet
motorways, hardly having to slow, getting to Strathyre for just
before 7. Perfect timing. The morning was foggy and cold but (looking
on the bright side) could have been MUCH worse. And it would be
later.
the Fuds were out in force
I had opted for NO bumbag. I carried
one in 2011 to hold gels and juice bottles. However I wasn't going to
bother with a rain jacket (no point* unless to block wind chill) and
I felt the running-unencumbered advantage would outweigh the ability
to carry half empty juice bottles. It meant I would be restricted to
liquids at the drop bag stations but I would only be out for 4 hrs
and I often run for 2 or 3hrs in cold weather without a drink. Sure
it would be fine.
*Has anyone come across a jacket that
you can race in at full throttle and it stays dry on the inside? Does
such a thing exist? Or does it just become, in due course, another
wet layer? Wet on both sides either from rain or sweat or both.
I have rather good pockets on the sides
of my Nike shorts running vertically down the sides that carry about
3 or 4 gels. I carried 2 and had a couple more in either drop bag. I
had eaten breakfast before 5 so had some other stuff handy but
couldn't face it before the race. So I ate a Clif Protein Bar and
hoped that would suffice. I really enjoyed not having a waist band or
bum bag while running. George is newer to this game and I noticed his
drop bags would make a nice picnic for a family of 3.
We milled about a bit and I visited the
toilet block (successfully). Around 8am there was some chat and then
we walked along and across the road to the start, on the forestry
trails. The whole event was very well organised by Bill and Mike who do an excellent job of hitting just the right tone neither too casual nor too up tight. And a huge thanks to the marshals and folk out from dawn till dusk in crappy weather and not even running to keep warm.
It would have been just after 8 when we set off. I watched
David L going off quickly on the rising trails with the leading pack
and I wondered if I would be seeing him again later. I would pace
myself and see how things went. I was just outside the top ten – a
place I think I held all race although there was a small amount of
to-and-fro. Gerry C was one place ahead. He had established
an 80 yard lead on the steep hills of the start. (We finished
consecutively in 2011.) After 4 miles of hilly trails we popped out at
the Kingshouse Hotel, Balquhidder and ran under the flyover before
turning right and following the cycle path. Up the tree lined trail to a
bridge and some cattle grids that rewarded complete focus. Occasionally the trail would be covered with pine needles and felt like it had a give, as George said, almost like running on a track. Around the
7 mile mark a series of switchbacks takes you up to the bridle path that ascends the titular Glen and on towards checkpoint 2. More big
gates with an option to cattle grid or swing the slatted gate on the
left. Why risk a wet slippy pipe-walk when you can push open a gate and
run through with ankles unbroken. I could see I was reeling in Gerry
(slowly) and (maybe) John Duffy.
hold that camera steady fool
piney paths
Fiona cheerleading - is that a can of bacardi breezer at her feet? And not even 9am.
Gerry at a cattle grid / deer fence
Having run across the viaduct in 2011
it was perhaps less of a special moment this time. I took
photos but could see the gloom was making for mostly dull and shaky
images.
I also had a notion that I maybe had a bathroom event horizon
approaching. Surely not, having twice already seen to that today.
Although the Builders Bar had gone down like a house brick. I
suspected there was some caffeine involved in the ingredients but
still haven't tracked it down. I was kind of surprised nobody was diving into their drop bags at checkpoint charlie. I suppose most were
carrying fluids. I was offered my drop bag but wasn't really very
thirsty or hungry (only 10miles) and was more concerned about the
unrest-room situation.
CP2
We crossed the road and I thought “take
action” rather than be taken by surprise. A short way along the
trail was a memorial and an area set aside off the trail for
appreciating it. I signalled right and pulled in while a mental
dialogue enquired was I really going to shit on someone's grave? Not
grave, and no, I would go beyond the cultivated area and see what the
outcome might be. I was uncertain which of the elements was making a
nuisance of themselves, earth, wind or fire. It turns out it was the
best call of the day and two minutes later I was washing my hands in
the grass putting my gloves back on and rejoining the trail, lighter
in heart.
Craig M came alongside and we ran
together for the next mile or 2, until just before the turn and
climb, he too signalled right and went off to release an otter into the wild. Craig and Kate had just got last minute entries when others
had dropped out and while neither had had much time to train and
taper (3 days?) both managed to make a decent job of it. (And run 15 miles the next day.)
finally see Gerry again
at the top of the hill
Fiona and pals again
Craig catching back up
Coming into checkpoint3 looking chipper while Craig fends off the paparazzi.
Thanks to Fiona Rennie for the photo.
It took Craig most of the hilly section
at the far end to catch up again. We both went past Gerry and came
into CP3 (same as CP2) together. John Duffy seemed to have made good his escape. I decided I was going to spend time
having a drink and a gel. It was the first drink of the race (19
miles) although I had made a point of starting the race well hydrated. In a hurry to drink
as much of the 500mls as quickly as possible without breathing I
nearly blacked out. I had caffeine drink diluted with fizzy water. I
had a “peach” gel at some point that was incredibly salty.
Big Brown and the salty peach
It got a bit abstract at points
descending the hairpin bends
Craig gets away.
A lot of the ultra scene is about
discomfort and how much pain you can embrace. As soon as you raise
the pace, life gets worse and the miles seem to take longer – or, if
you will, they are more exquisitely experienced. I was pleased to
catch Gerry before CP3 – he had been taking walking breaks on the
steeper climbs to consume stuff and was chipper when I went past. I
knew if I hung around on the descent from CP3 we would be running
together over the last 5 miles as we did in 2011. It's not that I
didn't want that, it's just I thought if I could get finished sooner
the pain might stop. At CP3 Craig left before I did and got 100 yards
ahead. To my complete surprise half a mile later I began to catch
him up again. Unheard of. (To be fair he wasn't really focussed on
racing today, more just a 30mile training/fun run.) We ran together
for a bit until the hairpin turns. He breezed past while I descended
cautiously, aware of the potential for a slide on the wet leaves. My
legs had a dull ache about them and I was a bit hacked off I hadn't
reeled in any crash-and-burners yet. I was impressed David was holding on. I reached CP4 and rummaged
through the bag for my high caffeine rescue remedy, just as the rain
started in earnest. It was around 3hrs into the race and a cyclist
who was dodging about the course reckoned there was 6 or 7 miles
left. In fact from the last checkpoint there is just over 5.5 (from
26 to 31.6.) (Indeed why is the race called GO33? However I'm pretty
sure NOBODY would complain the course is short by a mile and a half.)
ghost dog
On a long straight I could see Craig
one last time about a minute ahead down the road. The rest of the event was
a long lonely road run, in heavy cold rain, trying not to get
distracted and go the wrong way. It went on for an age. I passed a
postie, van parked at someone's house, postie delivering a letter
walking up the drive. I wondered about jumping into the van and
burrowing under the letters. Next stop Strathyre! Jumping out
partially covered in damp brown envelopes and second class stamps.
This was the last photo of the race as I was worried about the camera being soaked.
About 3 or 4 miles to go. Craig has just disappeared from vision.
I spent several miles trying to distract myself by thinking up blog titles linking Glenogle the race with Glenogle the swimming baths of my childhood near Stockbridge. A l-o-n-g time later I come to a sign saying
Strathyre 1.5 miles. I remember this sign from 2011 and couldn't
quite recall the other emotion that goes with it. It becomes apparent
over the next few miles the emotion is frustration and gnashing teeth as
we cover hilly mile after hilly mile round the next corner and up
another climb without a finish line in sight. You can see the climbs on the garmin output around the
30 mile mark although I have no memory of the downhills connecting
them. There were rivers of rain washing down the road. The orange
leafed trees would be spectacular in the sun, but were dismal in
the downpour. There were some fire-beating-out-brooms at one point
near the woods but I just couldn't imagine the trees ever being dry
enough again to catch light. I had a lot of random aches but none big
enough to excuse running. So I jogged in towards the finish in a
rather unhappy and soggy state.
Many thanks to Glen Ogle 33 for taking the photo.
The good news was I was sub4 by a
couple of minutes; the bad – 4 minutes slower than last time,
(although that, over 31.6 miles running is no disgrace – especially as
every item I was wearing could not have got wetter if I got in a
bath.) Additional: (I have just heard the course was a full mile longer than in 2011 and sure enough Mary's Garmin output from then says 30.5 miles - so in fact I ran a better pace this time.) I went quickly to George's car and with chattering teeth and
shaking fumbling yellow fingers dried myself, stripped off and dressed
in warm clothes. Getting compression tights over damp corpse feet in
a confined space was the worst moment of the day. Spasms of cramp
gripped my legs as I untied laces and it was about 20 minutes before
I stopped resembling a dead body pulled from the water. During this time the rain battering off the car roof suddenly stopped for 2 seconds then continued again as before without a fade out / fade in. A long time later I thought it might have been the dry shadow of an aeroplane flying overhead.
Really great medal design which incorporates the viaduct arches over the letters of GO33.
Beer and Tunnocks Caramel Wafer also in goody bag - quality!
George arrived looking drowned-rat-like
but remarkably well and pleased with his run. After he changed we
drove to the Inn and collected our free soup and drink. Very
delicious! We didn't hang around for long, opting for a swift return
home. (Both by now walking in an avant garde style.) The race was won by Robert (Boab) Turner running a new course record of 3.26 - and his first ultra. Joanne Thom was first lady. Results
show I was tenth. And I was pleased to run the first 26.2 miles
around 3hrs10. I don't know if that includes the memorial visit as
the garmin is set on auto pause and might have been whistling while
looking the other way.
Our thoughts are with those still out
there, running through the rain.
Results here
Results here
Border Series XC
Lauder 03/11/13
I had a notion to do the Lauder Cross
Country. Since it was the day after Glenogle I had to use the spare
legs I keep in the shoe cupboard. Mary kindly buffed them on Saturday night
and they were nearly ship shape on Sunday morning. More importantly
the sun was shining. If it had been more of the same downpour I might
have crept back to bed. So I phoned up Steve and hitched a lift to
the Borders.
The new facilities including hot showers!
There were a few PRCers had managed to
get a ticket for this highly regarded six race series. After the
debacle last year when thousands queued for weeks at the Dunbar
cement works, the series went EntryCentral this year with a capped
limit of entries, resulting in hurt feelings, recriminations and much
sadness from those not quick enough off the mark. Organiser Stuart H
was not looking forward to turning away anyone looking for
entries-on-the-day and was a relieved man to tell me later that
nobody had come along looking for a fight. Whew!
The day was brilliant as was the
course. I ran this a couple of years back in torrential rain so hadn't realised how picturesque the route can be. Using only the spare legs
today gave me licence to run at below capacity, so I carried
the camera and enjoyed the company of a slightly different section of
the field. Which is not to say I didn't try. I also didn't caffeine
dope today. So instead of being fired out a cannon at the start, I
just flopped out a sewer pipe.
Bob taking photos on the first hill...
And his work.
Now I don't know whether Dave (218) started 10 minutes after everyone else or just took his time getting up to speed today, but I suspect the recent addition to his family is somehow in the equation.
We ran round the field which helped
spread things out into a thin enough line to get down the narrow lane
to the duckboards and along and back there. Before heading up a climb
and out of Lauder. There was a hill a bit over, that looked familiar
and sure enough we went round the side of that and continued along
some contouring singletrack before dropping down to the valley and
zig-zagging over the river a few times.
note runners coming down from above
If you sped up and got a good firm
take-off spot this side of the burn you could land it with dry feet.
Given the margin for error I was tempted to stop and take photos of
the pack going past and see if anyone went for an early bath. Mel
allegedly became familiar with the temperature of the water but I
didn't get the full story. Off-road is her second-best terrain (out
of 2) so top marks Mel for braving the cross country.
Then up a slippery climb. If you
planted your feet either side of the muddy groove you got pretty good
traction, so I couldn't understand why there were long clawed tread
marks right in the worst of the gloop. Were blind people running here
at night? At the top I looked across the course and aimed to get past
the 2 runners ahead before exiting the gate. I set a few challenges
like this to encourage the spare legs which had momentary oomph but
not much endurance.
Up bobs Bob again.
Using a proper camera is just cheating.
And on the next fast downhill Bob had
materialised and was taking more photos. I tried to take a photo of
him without launching my camera at him. Then we were on to a path that
seemed cobbled with stones just a tad too large or pointy to run
properly along. This rang bells and I realised we would come out into
the start-finish field. So, almost disappointed it was all going to
finish so quickly, I gave it what little remained in the tank for the last length of the field.
This wasn't retribution for beating me.
GH in full flight
Mel found it hair-raising
Andrew singing his way to the finish.
Great to see Michael G leading the
Porties home today. A richly deserved success after far too many
months of injury. Another highlight of today was the Tomato Soup. And
I don't think it was just me replacing some of the many calories
spent yesterday. Although that helped. Many thanks to the organisers
– very well marshalled, marked and crewed and a brilliant route
with lots of variety and different terrain in a loop that seemed to
last 15 minutes not twice that, and yet had plenty of challenges. Ask
Mel.
Callum - a second second in 2 weeks
Vicki's second ever race
more Gilmores
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