On 12th January I was kidnapped by Nick and Nasher who made me get up early and run 26 miles to Peebles. I was clearly out of shape and would never have agreed to this otherwise. The weather was supposed to be good. It nearly was; bright and sunny for the middle part of the day but cold and dull at the start and finish with a bit of icy hail thrown in for fun.
the Whitlie view
We started off on a similar path to the Scurry-to-the-Sea up past the ski slope to Allermuir. Just to get the heart pumping and lungs wheezing. Then over to the contour round the bottom of Castlelaw. You'll note there are no photos. The camera was safely packed away. Underfoot was swimming pool wet and I took at least 2 one-footed slides in my Speedgoats. It was really hill-shoe country but I had worn Hokas for the long haul. They were decidedly sketchy on much of the Pentlands crossing and I was glad to get back on terra-firma at Carlops. Quite a bit of slip-sliding away before that. At least the sun came out.
geese
The Allan Ramsay had been closed in Carlops. Happily the Gordon Arms, West Linton was open. We dried off a bit in front of the fire, hoping the bar staff didn't notice the filthy legs and shoes we always take in there. Just as we were finishing our pints we were approached by one of the older locals who mistook Graham for someone else. We got chatting with him and he was telling us about his own past triumphs doing marathons etc. Nick turned to him and said that he was surely "doing ok for 91". Graham and I were surprised to hear this as the guy hadn't mentioned his age. And so was the guy. He was a lot younger than 91 and whatever Nick had heard it wasn't that. Time to leave!
Although refreshed by the beer and sit down, I was feeling the pace more than usual and counting the miles to the end, more than actually loving it. Proof is that the camera stayed in my backpack rather than recording the passing scenery, of which there was plenty. I was noticeably the back marker, especially on the climbs. Nick and Graham were in reasonable shape and spent most of the run ahead while I plodded up the hills behind. I have done enough of these runs to know it will all get done and just to dig in and in a few hours we will be sitting on the bus home. And reminded myself to not sign up for any major endeavours or races before I shake off a few winter pounds.
Lots of running and chatting later we were a handful of miles from Peebles when the sky became dark grey. The forecast had been so upbeat I had not even bothered to pack my waterproof jacket. I always seem to carry a heavier pack than those with me and in an effort to reduce its size I had thrown some babies out with the bathwater. It was actually a good call in the long run. The main bulk of my pack was dry clothes for after; essential after a long achy run when you can't get a shower and the cold damp clothes you are wearing would set off hypothermia 30mins after stopping.
So when small icy pellets belted into us horizontally as we climbed the last hill I didn't have a jacket to put on. As per, I was trailing behind the other 2 but I stopped to get the camera out. The surroundings were quite spectacular and I wanted a couple of shots of the turnaround in weather and ice on the floor. Even if it meant falling further behind. I know the route well enough to find my own way to the pub a couple of miles down the road if I had to do it on my own. And, knowing the end was in sight, or at least relatively near, I was cheering up. The ice from the blizzard accumulated on my back and fell off in small clumps. At least the wind was to our backs. Although I could feel the hail ping off the back of my head where my buff (and thinning hair!) offered little protection.
Although refreshed by the beer and sit down, I was feeling the pace more than usual and counting the miles to the end, more than actually loving it. Proof is that the camera stayed in my backpack rather than recording the passing scenery, of which there was plenty. I was noticeably the back marker, especially on the climbs. Nick and Graham were in reasonable shape and spent most of the run ahead while I plodded up the hills behind. I have done enough of these runs to know it will all get done and just to dig in and in a few hours we will be sitting on the bus home. And reminded myself to not sign up for any major endeavours or races before I shake off a few winter pounds.
Lots of running and chatting later we were a handful of miles from Peebles when the sky became dark grey. The forecast had been so upbeat I had not even bothered to pack my waterproof jacket. I always seem to carry a heavier pack than those with me and in an effort to reduce its size I had thrown some babies out with the bathwater. It was actually a good call in the long run. The main bulk of my pack was dry clothes for after; essential after a long achy run when you can't get a shower and the cold damp clothes you are wearing would set off hypothermia 30mins after stopping.
So when small icy pellets belted into us horizontally as we climbed the last hill I didn't have a jacket to put on. As per, I was trailing behind the other 2 but I stopped to get the camera out. The surroundings were quite spectacular and I wanted a couple of shots of the turnaround in weather and ice on the floor. Even if it meant falling further behind. I know the route well enough to find my own way to the pub a couple of miles down the road if I had to do it on my own. And, knowing the end was in sight, or at least relatively near, I was cheering up. The ice from the blizzard accumulated on my back and fell off in small clumps. At least the wind was to our backs. Although I could feel the hail ping off the back of my head where my buff (and thinning hair!) offered little protection.
as the storm passes over
You can see in the photo the distant silhouette of Nick who waited to see if I was ok. What a champ! I was a bit sorry now I hadn't taken more photos along the way to document the run. However it was not one of my better days out and something of a wake up call about fitness and that perhaps I need to get in shape rather than hibernate and drink wine all winter. Sadly I haven't really done enough of the former and possibly a little too much of the latter, since then. Oh well.
When we did get to the pub I changed out my soaking clothes and into the very welcome dry bag of warmth and recovery. Except shoes and socks. I hadn't taken them so after removing filthy shoes (had to clean the toilet floor afterwards) and socks, to get compression tights on, I had to slither my feet back into clarty rags and soaking muddy shoes. Lovely! The pint tasted brilliant. Mainly because there was no more running to be done, well hardly any more. I hurpled from the bus stop down Easter Rd a couple of hours later. And I was surprised it was Graham not I who fell asleep on the bus home. All that fresh air - does you the power of good.
26miles
When I stopped my Suunto at Peebles I was so raddled I couldn't read the mileage properly and thought it said 29. It felt like 29 at least. However it was only 26. I have run easier 36 milers. Mainly the wet conditions underfoot; skidding about in the wrong shoes did not help. Must try harder.
hilly
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