Thieves Road Ultra

24th August 2019
This was Mary's idea but she abdicates all responsibility. Because the inaugural event was supposed to take place a fortnight previous, but due to thunderstorms was postponed 2 weeks. We had the option of a full refund or run it on the 24th. Mary, getting cold feet, opted for a refund. (Maybe she had good instincts?) Nick and I kept our heads on the chopping block. I hadn't done an ultra this year and felt I should keep my hand in. The organisers - BAM Racing - have been doing this for 9 years and are a solid outfit with lots of experience and great races to their names. Total respect to them for offering full refund and opening up new places for the new date. You can't say fairer than that and their hearts are in the right place.

One of the things I find testing about Ultras is they often start at the crack of dawn. Or rather involve me leaving my bed in the middle of the night to get to the race briefing for 6.45~7.45 in Peebles. I can't remember what ungodly time Nick picked me up from outside my front door but he is a saint, and proved this by having a coffee waiting in his car for me. I had meant to trial getting up early a few days before, leading into the race but just don't have that gene. I had optimistically hoped that would be the toughest aspect of the day.

I never really found out what a Thieves Road was. It was the name that caught Mary's attention, and also I am drawn to take part in events before they are discovered, become popular and EVERYONE wants to do them.

This was the first running and there was a bit of confusion about where the start was and how to get the 2 buses there (from Peebles where we registered). We got underway about 9.20 if my Suunto is to be believed. (About 3 hours after Nick picked me up?!)

The worst injury of the day was when I leapt across the drainage ditch at the roadside to have a pre-race pee and whacked my thigh off something solid, hidden in the long grass. I had a large bruise for a week. Luckily it didn't effect my running.

I had not done proper research of the route. I can't remember why; I must have been busy with work or similar. BAM emails confidently predicted the whole way would be marked and obvious and as back up they sent out gpx files. I find when running long unknown routes, setting my Suunto to sat-nav mode and following a gpx file is the best way to avoid errors. However I should have at least familiarised myself with the course. Just looking at the route for 5 mins would have let me know what lay ahead as a surprising amount of the route appears in other races and in past Tynecastle Bronze days out.

We set off from near Balerno, about a mile or 2 West, about midpoint between Threipmuir and Harperrig Reservoirs. We then headed toward Baddinsgill Reservoir via East Craig, the first large climb of the day. Had I been aware of that we wouldn't have nearly messed up at the junction of the foothill vs the trail to Carlops. Nick and I were near the front of the race along with Claire and a couple of others. The arrow on the ground was pointing in the right direction (up the hill) but crucially was before the junction with nothing after the gate either up the hill or left to Carlops. I only turned on the Sat-Nav at this point and quickly realised (as the group went left) that the route went up the hill not left. Disaster averted we led the whole race up the hill instead of left to Carlops. 

We then (after getting soaking wet feet over the top) joined the Baddinsgill Round route for the unpleasant fast descent over 500 trips and loose stones in black muddy peat down the fence-line towards the left turn to Baddinsgill Reservoir. The next section is on really nice single-tracks and broad paths and then a mile or 2 of tarmac into West Linton. Famously run in the other direction on the very last Tynecastle Bronze Armistice Day run. There was talk of the Gordon Arms and would it be open for a pint. We reckoned we could probably sneak a swift one in and still make the cut-offs, but left refreshments for later.

It was around here, a few miles beyond W Linton on the way to Peebles, that I realised Nick was enjoying the run less than myself. We are usually fairly evenly matched depending on who has been training more. And he has the age advantage as I am often reminding anyone who will listen. However it was becoming apparent that Nick was not having his best ever day out and as folk were catching up and going past Nick suggested if I wanted to stick with them to go for it. Unusually I was not feeling particularly competitive, and was happy to let others forge ahead. It can be smarter to not push too hard on a long day out (we had 42 miles as an approximate total) and the thing that makes those miles pass the most swiftly is good company rather than pushing the needle into the red zone. So we did a bit of walking and chatting and I enjoyed the scenery. We have run this route in both directions and I was happy to see the organisers had followed the same diversions and trails we normally took. This part is one of Nashers favourite training runs (Peebles to Pentlands or vice versa) and great undulating trails for the most part.

At a gate we found a pair of sunglasses which Nick modelled.

Quite timely as the day was really warming up.

A few road miles then up this long hill before the descent into Peebles.

It was good to be familiar with the route as we knew what to expect and how far it was to Peebles. We would pass by the field we had registered in and have access to dropbags. I had been eating a bit but my appetite waned as the day grew warmer and warmer. I knew roughly how far it was to the dropbags and decided to work up a hunger for the mashed potato cup flask and other stuff I had there. Slightly dangerous tactic as running out of energy is deadly. The second circuit was going to be long and tough so I knew I needed a major refuel.

The bad news was Nick said quietly to me that he felt he was going to drop out at Peebles. For reasons unknown he just wasn't in the zone today and reckoned he wouldn't bother continuing. I was tempted to try and talk him into continuing; that I would stick with him and see us through. However Nick is no stranger to long days out. He had recently run the Great Glen Ultra (same BAM organisation) a fearsome 72 miler that I frankly did not have the cojones to enter. So if he says he has had enough, I wasn't going to question his choice. But I was sorry. I have never DNFed a race. My pal Neil R says he is gutted about his singular DNF during a race that wasn't even that horrible. More like he just couldn't be bothered. He has since completed such nightmare events as the Spine in midwinter. So he is annoyed that his copybook is blotted with this one opt out.

As we approached Peebles we had fallen in with a Carnethy runner. Young dude who we ran with for a few miles. I think his first ultra. We passed friends of his or maybe just race supporters on the outskirts of Peebles who gave us some water. Wow that was much needed and appreciated. Nick pulled up to go into a shop for cold juice (the day was by now quite scorchio) and we parted company. We hadn't really had time to agree how we were going to play this. If I had had my thinking cap on I would have said for him not to wait on me as I would be able to get a lift with anyone heading back up the road. However he said he was happy to wait and it was only 17 miles after the dropbag station. How hard could that be?

Rather than do the obvious line through Peebles we went right and along the riverside paths of the Borders Cross Country Series. Really very pretty. Or it would have been if we had not gone 24miles over rough ground. I knew there would be the notorious steep hill. We were directed to do it through the trees rather than the XC course which does the grassy field. I was getting low blood sugar and really looking forward to the aid station. It was now really hot.

After a mile or so of tarmac we had this glorious sight. As I said to the Carnethy chap the second best view of the day. I felt tired and had no idea how I was going to manage round the second "half" of the course up and down all that hilly stuff, before getting the best view of the day. Only 17 miles (we had just done 25) but over what looked like much more challenging ground. I got my drop bag and forced down most of the pint of mashed potatoes and chilli gravy I had made up the night before. I then forced down a Muller Rice which I only ever eat at Ultras. It was surprisingly nice and went down easily. I carried anything wet I had (a gel, a strawberry milk) and although I had sports bars and flapjacks, they were as appealing as blocks of lego.

the dropbag station at 25 miles, hurray!

I said goodbye to Nick who was lying luxuriously on the grass. He had arrived as I was eating. I think I might have said see you in about 3 hours. After about 12mins in transition I set off up the hill feeling overstuffed at a slow walking pace. I did wonder about the sanity of this. How the hell would I do a 17 mile hill race when I felt hot and tired and ready to sit in a car and be driven home. Remember Neil's DNF. Just do it. Park your mind elsewhere, once the food gets into your bloodstream you will feel better. I had loads of water which was good but it did weigh heavily in my backpack. Quickly the route changed from uphill to down and I wondered had I got it right? We were to follow a loop that shared the first and last miles and the gps overlapped. I didn't have the brainpower to analyse the situation and followed the marker arrows blindly. After a bit of tarmac the route went off road and began to climb. The Carnethy dude had caught up and gone up ahead and another guy who jogged with me for a bit was to fall behind. This placing would remain for the rest of the race though I had no idea where we in the field. Somewhere in the top ten but difficult to tell as folk kept dying. A guy who had taken the lead many many hours ago came back towards us saying he had seen the hill up ahead, climbed a bit of it then thrown in the towel. He had been vomitting. Enough was enough. I thought maybe the easier pace I had taken to match Nick had done me great service. Push too hard too early and you find yourself in deep shit.

Meanwhile I kept having flashbacks. This felt really like that mid-week hill race, what was it? Gypsy Glen. I hadn't done it in many years but it was, well it was here, wasn't it? The heat and the gradient was quite a combination. I did token jogs and runs but rarely was far away from walking pace. Carnethy disappeared off the radar ahead and the guy behind was no longer in photos looking back. It was just me and flying ants. Occasionally I would see a butterfly but flying ants were the insect of the day with many seeming to enjoy landing on the back of my neck where they would struggle in a bath of sweat. There was nothing to smile about.

so 7 miles of climbing at 28~35miles

whose idea of fun was that?

The climb went on and on. The mild sense of deja vu came and went as we passed from Gypsy Glen into Manor Water into 2 Breweries. Was I just imagining this? Was my brain baked from sun and 30 miles of wandering? I trudged on waiting for the downhill. I had looked at the route profile and seemed to remember a lot of climbing but after a high point there was a downhill, then another small climb, then it was downhill all the way back to Peebles. Every slight descent I hoped was that penultimate one. And yet there were more wrinkles on that 7 mile climb than I had scrutinised. Nothing to do but march on. And flick off the flying ants.

When you looked back it was depressingly close to Peebles

even after a couple of hours of climbing!

as advertised the route was marked

As the thing levelled off a bit I would have felt relieved, happy even. Except the ground deteriorated. And became worse than the climb. Ahead was tussocky uneven non-trails through black soft stinking mud. I looked at the sat-nav arrow hoping this was off-course. It was not. Who would send a poor weary soul through this at 30+ miles. As that tennis player said YOU CANNOT BE SERIOUS. 

fuck fuck and more fuck

My sense of disbelief grew. I had hoped we would soon be descending off this ginormous hill and glory be, finishing. Instead there was more climbing and worse still this awful peat hag continued for as far as the teary eye could see. I began to curse the organisers shouting loudly at the top of my voice. Bad words. There was an awful lot more of the black bogs and some more up hill. My legs were now shot and every strange movement and lunge over uneven ground caused them to spasm in cramp. It was like a sharp steel rod was being forced quickly about an inch under the skin, up the length of my calf or quad. I shouted out in pain. Then in what seemed like a hateful and deliberately cruel punishment we were guided off the thin track over unmarked heather - no path to follow  - only a complete bastard would suggest we go this way - and asked to descend steeply through knee deep heather. This was my breaking point. Both legs cramped up and I stopped and howled in pain unable to walk any further. This was no longer amusing. This was being gang raped by the organisers. I felt utterly shagged and stood for a minute or 2 till I could move again. Slowly the scaffolding inside my legs melted and I could tentatively step slowly through the deep steep heather. 

I was extremely glad of the gps sat-nav. This part of the route was not instinctive and you couldn't really make out the distant white posts which had tape on. There was no path and no sane person would come this way. Claire G later said she was very jealous of my gps abilities as she got lost. She was about an hour ahead of me and had a tremendous run. Though wasn't very happy about the boggy bits. I suspect her recent years of Munros and Corbets were excellent training for this part of the route which was more hill walk than run. I was in pain and hating it. I tried to channel my fuming rage into forward movement, and get this fucker done.

low point of the day

After a long, long walk through hell, all of a sudden we were out the heather and onto a trail. A runnable trail. My legs said thank you and stopped seizing up every 25 steps. I gingerly experimented with running again. It worked. I trotted cautiously down the pleasant gradient. Thank fuck for that. My mood lightened. I went a little faster. This was what I'd signed up for: running. Not stumbling through peat hags and tussocky heather. That is not running. There is a difference between a challenge and just undeniable unpleasantness. A long day out over varied terrain, yes. An ordeal where you are held down and have a branch inserted, no thanks. Too much of the latter on this course. A guy, a sub 3 marathoner, who knew this circuit DNFed rather than tackle its charms. I may have done similar had I known. Or just not signed up for it in the first place. Another competitor who finished thought it unlikely they repeat the same format again. 

this is what I signed up for

Things very much improved. The trails were rather beautiful and there was decent ground all the way to the finish. However there was a lasting impression from those bad miles. And it was miles. Not just a bad section like the peat hags in the Ochils 2000 or the bad bits in the 2 Breweries. Or the sploshy bits in Baddinsgill Round. It was like all those bits in one hellish section after you have already run 30 odd miles. As I unkindly put it on facebook, no matter how good the apple crumble is, if there is a turd in it, that is the bit that you are going to remember.

best view of the day

The second section: 17 miles featuring a 7 mile climb 

and 3 miles of hell. Nearly 5 hours of hard work.

just glad to be done

So 42 miles of running and walking. I got over the line and when one of the marshals/staff asked what I thought of it I'm afraid I reflected upon the bad miles rather than all the other bits which were pretty good. She said I need to man up. Well maybe I do? (I'm just kidding, she can go fuck herself.) But wasn't this advertised as suitable for beginners?

I think they operated a 6hr cut off at Peebles. Which was wise. It took me longer to do the 17 mile hill loop than the first 25 miles to Peebles. Just over 4hrs to Peebles and 8.48 total (around 12mins in transition). 42.6 miles and I was one of the few who did the exact course due to gps sat-nav. Others without that went wrong in the peat hags and elsewhere. First over the line vomitted as did 3rd or 4th. I was 5th. Claire G was 2nd overall and first lady by hours. An outstanding performance.

19 out of 60 competitors DNF-ed. Nearly one third of the field. What does that say?

I wouldn't do this same route again. I would be surprised if they don't change it slightly. First bit is great. Some of the hilly stuff was great too. Shame to blight it with 3 or 4 miles of ground that nobody enjoyed. Needs those bad miles reviewed or a course change. A lot about this event was really good and the organisers got 7/8ths of it spot on. But as I said it is hard to get past that 1/8th that was absolutely horrendous. And so late on my legs were in no shape to sustain it. I can understand the route setters doing it on fresh legs and thinking it was reasonable. But it wasn't with 30 miles in your legs. And because it was towards the end, it became the lasting impression. You forget about the 7/8ths that was great and say Thieves Road? Not doing that again, ever.

After showering by pouring jugs of cold water over my head I sat down to remove socks and shoes and the cramp grabbed my legs so profoundly I actually cried in pain. I should probably just man up.

42.6 miles in 8hrs48mins

(most of it good!)

RESULTS HERE