beach and barge

Feb 16th and 17th

Sneaking through the Winter without serious snow and storm. Fingers crossed but I'm sure there's worse to come. Meanwhile a pleasant beach run on Saturday and another marathon training run Sunday with the Porty crew. Reasonable weather both days though it stopped short of glorious or really warm on either occasion and the wildlife wasn't exactly forthcoming. Lots of birdsong in the background. Possibly the motto this weekend: could be worse. The company (if not the running) was excellent though.

Nick came along on Saturday for the usual route at Gullane.

There was so much continual chat that we only found room for one sprint down the beach. Nick and I measured about 4.21 pace at top speed, eyeballs out, near vomit, needle in the red gallop. The same weekend Laura Muir was breaking the mile record by 5 seconds to run 4.18. So she held that breakneck pace for a mile. Good going!

This area beside the woods has been cleared of seabuckthorn 

and the light filters through much more.

Saw Dessie and family as we ran back along the beach at Gullane

Sunday and one of the hardest asks of the day would be to get to Meggetland car park in time to padlock the bike and be ready to start at 9am. Not half as tough as Nick's morning: who pinch-flat-ed his back tyre and ran alongside his bike pushing 7.20 pace from the Meadows, and was still on the starting line to hear Ricky tell us we would regroup at 4 miles and Ratho (aprox 7.5). With folk doing various length runs from 14 to 20miles along and back on the canal path.

I had cycled up the road in a jacket but removed this, to run in just one thin t-shirt as it was clearly going to stay reasonable for a couple of hours and the pace was medium to tempo. It was touch and go whether I should keep on the gloves and buff. The gloves stayed on, the buff went on my wrist as we sped up after the turn at 10 miles. 

At 4 miles the front runners turned round and ran to the back marker then turned and continued. This was a good way for us to all stay warm and active while ensuring we didn't spread out too much and still enjoyed the group feel. It definitely makes a long run pass quicker to have a bit of chat and company. At Ratho most stopped and regrouped although some pushed on knowing they were only able to hold a slower pace. Again it worked well. I didn't see who turned when but there were fewer folk at the far end than there had been. We ran slightly longer than 10 on my Suunto, which worked well as the turnaround at 4 miles would have left us short of 20 if we turned at exactly 10. 

Turn around at that bridge.

Almost immediately Donald, at the front, upped the pace. We had been cruising near 8min miles. Mile 11 was 6.54 and 12 was 6.42 at which point I drifted off the back of Donald and settled for 7.15 pace. I knew from a couple of weeks ago that if I tried to hold sub7 I'd manage for a few miles then crash and burn. All good marathon pace judgement. Things did slow from 7.15 to 7.30 pace but I felt better than the run a fortnight ago when I finished raggedly at 8.20 pace after trying to keep up with Nick. Nick had given himself an altogether tougher day's running by going to the pub for a couple of quiet beers on Saturday night and, well, getting swept along in some drinking dancing partying stay-up-till-2am bad decision making. Haha! I really enjoyed us swapping places from the last long Porty outing when I watched him disappear off into the distance. This time he disappeared behind, though it was pretty obvious why. 

None of us were carrying water and from about mile 14 after sweating for a couple of miles I was beginning to feel dry mouthed and really looking forward to arriving at the waterbottle I had brought on my bike. Meanwhile Nick was considering drinking from the canal such was his thirst. 

Just this side of Ratho (above) the canal-path had been opened to let a barge on from a neighbouring holding pond. I made querulous noises as I approached the watery gap and the guy operating the bridge said to follow the path round the outside of the pond, which only added a couple of hundred yards extra. I was glad not to have to wait for the bridge to be closed while my legs seized up. There was no sign of Nick or others behind and I ran the rest of the 6.5 miles on my own. It was hard fighting to keep the pace up but it is always the same story every marathon. Last 6 miles are just hell and sticking in there. Put your mind into neutral, grit your teeth and push on. The more pain embraced now, the less later. A lesson in life.

I was glad to see Paul not long arrived ahead of me. I had put my bag and jacket in the boot of his car and hoped I wasn't holding him up waiting for me. Everyone seemed to be in a similar state: in that moment of achieving a task and happy to have it behind you. Sarah had turned an ankle but after stopping to flex it had run the rest and hoped it was ok. 

I tried to fix Nick's pinch-flat but in an oxygen deprived state and all thumbs I made a very poor and cack-handed attempt. The flaccid tyre and bike went in Donald's car and Nick went in Sarah's car. I cycled the 4.3 miles home at a more leisurely pace than the 20minutes it had taken me, stomping uphill from Leith, earlier in the day. I spent the rest of the day rehydrating and getting out of chairs stiffly. Thanks Ricky for organising! Good workout.

20 miler