Hello dear blog fans. I've had quite a few free Wednesdays in a row - soon to end. 

During my long beautiful Wednesdays I have been going out for longer runs (longer runs = up to 10 miles)  and hurting my knee over and over. I've got a new fave 10 miler - a nice run from here - through Stockbridge and then up Ralvelston onto Corstorphine Hill. Earlier this year I found there was a magic gateway that brings you out onto open hillside. Running down the far side is where I've been hurting my knee. There's something about steep, offroad stuff that is not working for me just now. At the bottom of the far side you come to a wee gate that brings you out onto St John's Road which is a big, nasty road but it has a nice, wide pavement and you often get the west wind behind you which makes for faster, easier running. Then it's choose your route through the centre of town and then choose your lunch from the Co-op.

But every time I've done it I've been limping for a few days afterwards.

I did it last Wednesday and hurt my knee again. It didn't matter so much as I had a course to go to at the weekend and wouldn't be able to run anyway.

I've bought myself a new camera - a Canon Ixus. It's not nearly as good as my Lumix but it's much lighter and smaller, so better for taking out and about. These photos have nothing to do with running but there was a big stormy looking cloud in the sky on Thursday evening. I was working in Shandwick Place on the top floor.

The other day I was out a run and my leg was feeling okay and I started down a line of thinking. Peter has the Dumfries Half Marathon soon. He was moaning remarking recently that the club coach leaves at the crack of dawn and that there will be a substantial amount of hanging around time at the other end before the race even starts. I was feeling a bit sorry for him because he has been doing some pretty solid training recently and could do well at the half marathon. The early start and the hanging around won't help though. I hate a long wait around before a race...and an early start. I can think of three races right off the bat where I've had to get up super-early and I felt rubbish all the way through. The Mull Monsterette, in 2008, was number 1 We were driven there on the morning of the race from Edinburgh by Ben Kemp. We caught the ferry to Mull from Oban and I think were bussed to the start. I felt rubbish right from the get-go, and  nearly followed Tony Stapley off a ridge and into the after-life. We did a terrifying correctional scramble back up on to the ridge where we were meant to be and after that I felt so wiped out (adrenaline and all) I could hardly jog to the end.

 Number 2 early start was for the Speyside Way race in 2011. We camped in my mum's garden and got up at some ambitious time like 4am so we could drive 50 miles to get to registration before 7am. There are buses to the race start and again a long unwelcome wait around in the cold before getting moving. By the time we set off I was ready for some much needed shut-eye. 20 miles in, in the woods, I seriously considered having a lie down. I didn't, but I didn't have a great race.
Number 3 early start was driving through to Fort William on the morning of the Lochaber Marathon, in 2012, with Richard Dennis and Eric from club. Before the race, I remember eating muffins and drinking coffee under the unwelcoming strip-lighting of the Fort William Tesco's cafe, with my face feeling numb with tiredness. Again, I had a disappointing race.

I think you get the point.

It occurred to me that if I drove Peter down there the night before we could stay somewhere and I could do something while he was running the race. But what would I do? Maybe there was a 10K or something on at the same time. When I got home I had a look to see. There wasn't a 10K on - not for a few months anyway, but it started to occur to me that maybe I would just run the race too.

Maybe we could drive down the night before and have a curry (yes!) and maybe even a beer or two and then I could take my light little camera and try and do something like 9 minute miles and just think of it as a weekend break or a jolly.


Before I knew it I'd booked a hotel and signed up for the race. Peter was not so impressed, pointing out how much injury time I've been putting in recently and my track record of making it to races that I've entered this year. I missed the Feel the Burns Hill Race in January, the Carnethy in February, the Manchester Marathon in April, the 7 hills in June and Philiphaugh Hill Race in August.

It hasn't been great. But anyway I've signed up. Peter is not confident enough of me making it yet to give up his place on the bus. I thought a simple, although not definitive, test of whether I'd be able to run the race was to go out and run more than the half marathon distance today, and see if I survived.

So I did. I hadn't taken any snacks with me but after the first mile I came upon a tiny brunch bar. I strongly suspect it fell out of the lunch box of a primary age school child. It fitted nicely into my rucksack pocket and so became my back-up nutrition plan. Plan A was to do without and see how I got on.

I'd intended to head up the Water of Leith, coming back with the wind behind on the canal and then maybe through the meadows and down the side of Arthur's Seat, which is about 14 miles. Arriving at the Dean bridge however I diverted up Ravelston and up Corstorphine Hill instead. In order to try to save my knee I took the route towards Clermiston Tower and then down the Kaimes road. From the Kaimes road I took a bit of the 7 hills route through Carricknowe and then Stenhouse. I couldn't remember what "Stenhouse" was called but remembered that last time I'd run through it with Peter he'd made a joke that had something to do with chickens. When I saw the sign for Stenhouse Drive it came to me. Here's the question...Is there a hen house in Stenhouse? Well is there?

Who knows. I was at 7 miles by this time and still feeling fine. I had no firm plan for getting back - just that it needed to be more than 6 miles.

At Slateford road I rejoined the WOL and ran past the allotments and the graveyard and then joined the canal just  before the main road. I was slowing up by now and had given myself a free pass to do so. I just wanted to do the distance, so it didn't matter if I needed to run slowly. I ran up to the back of a girl with unicorn hair, you know the pink and blue kind. Just as I was going to pass her, however,  she looked over her shoulder, saw me, and took off!!! I've done a lot of pride-swallowing in the last few years, I haven't really had a choice, but this girl didn't look like a runner and I doubted very much if she could really keep up with me, so I picked it up. Once you've done something like this there is nothing for it other than to keep pushing. It didn't take long. Unicorn dropped. Mission accomplished. It passed a bit of time!

By the end of the canal I'd run 10 miles, so I needed to find another three somewhere. I didn't fancy the meadows and Arthur's Seat option so I took a route through town. Running through Edinburgh's "Pubic Triangle" I was close to being shocked by the casual conflation of grave-robbing and lap-dancing all in one bar! What a night out that would be. Formaldehyde shots. It's very likely the devil drinks there.

After the Grassmarket I ran up Victoria Street, past the tourists and up to the Castle, coming back down Johnston Terrace and then making my way east along Queen Street and then home.

Well that's it then. Hello again. It occurs to me that I just accidentally wrote a race report for my midweek long run. Well it's been a race-free year, apart from 2 park runs early on.

I REALLY hope, although I'm scared to, that I can just GO to Dumfries and EAT the curry and DRINK the beers and RUN the race, albeit with a slightly dry mouth and an after-taste of onions.