seven hills 2012 from Peter Buchanan on Vimeo.

7 Hills of Edinburgh 2012

Another year, another 7 hills of Edinburgh. I wasn't going to do this again this year. Normally the impetus is Peter who LOVES this race. I like it too but I've run it 7 times already - well now I've run it 8 times. I had a look about to see if there were any other races on this weekend. There was Durisdeer yesterday but it was a SHR championship counter which is Scottish Hill Racing percentage death and also Peter can't run in the hills. (With his foot y'understand.)  If I could have found a nice trail run somewhere that would definitely have been my preference. But there wasn't one. Its a PRC championship race this year which finally swung it for me, so I set out to get my greedy little hands on another 10 points if possible, although this was by no means a certainty. Aileen is being a good sport about this championship. I don't think she's bothered and so is generous about me nipping in just ahead of her.

Its been uniformly pissing down for the last 2 days and today it was meant to dry up. All the weather forecasts said so. But nobody told the sky and it pissed down again today. I was afraid it might get cold and stuck a t-shirt on under my vest, but I needn't have worried. I was soon too warm and had to perform the tricky procedure of taking off my vest and t-shirt and putting my vest back on as I ran along beside the stately homes of Ravelston. I'm sure I put a few wealthy folk off their morning coffee, but it was a necessity. If it gets too warm its important to get your pits out. I thought about throwing my t-shirt away but it was my Highland Fling t-shirt and couldn't quite bear to part with the fruits of running (okay walking and running) 53 miles so I just ran with it in my hand and hoped I might see a Porty spectating along the way.

Thinking about strategy before the race I had a kind of a plan. Since I usually try to run half marathon pace at the start of the race for the 1st 4 miles and I can never run at this pace towards the end of the race, "How's about" I thought to myself, "going off a bit more comfortably?" Ah sweet reason. As soon as I had suggested it to myself it seemed to make sense. I usually take a bottle of Lucozade or sports drink with me too, so this year I thought I might take advantage of the support on route - if I wasn't running so hard then I could maybe stomach the jelly babies and raisins they usually have at the water tables, and I could run kitless and free.

I was a little disheartened then to  get to the 1st couple of tables and find only a wee drop of raisins left and no jelly babies. The economic downturn is ruining everything. It wasn't a major problem anyway. I wasn't very hungry.

Things really started to get more interesting at Craiglockhart. Happily Gordon the coach was there and he was willing to take my t-shirt off my hands, which was good, because I was soon needing my hands. The muddy bank, for the "super-heroes" route was the consistency of a thick chocolate icing and though less delicious was as supportive. I was soon clawing my way up the slope, desperate and scared, and grateful for little roots and strings of ivy to cling onto for dear life while gravity tried to take me back down the slide. From the shrieks around me other people were making a worse job of it, which was heartening, in a heartless kind of way. I was hyperventilating - just the adrenaline kick I guess - which took a wee while to subside. And then afterwards I had that kind of intense sleepiness that you get after an adrenaline rush. But there was to be no resting! Half way up the hill I tried to get some of the mud off my hands by wiping them on the soaking grass. I had convinced myself there was going to be Jelly Babies at the table at the top and I was needing them. But it was not to be. I know how ungrateful this sounds and I'm sorry. Raisins it was then. I chewed them thoughtfully as I took off down the hill again.

The little lane tricks and Fly Walk and all that went alright for the next bit. Nice going up and over the Braids. Very few golfers out so I took a more direct route than usual to where I wanted to go. The path down the other side to the road was alarming. Just a crazy mud slide with gorse to hang onto. I was catching up with more and more challengers now and I was grateful to be "held up" a bit as otherwise I would have had to try and go a bit faster and I didn't really want to.

I hadn't worried much about what the slope out of the Hermitage would be like as I remembered it as shorter and easier than the slope at Craiglockhart, but as it turned out I saw several versions of my untimely demise flashing before my eyes on the way up,  as just as I got far enough up the bank so I was going to hurt myself if I fell back down I ran out of all hand holds and I did that fatal thing which is stop. A little  below me were three nasty metal spikes ready to slice a bit off as I accelerated over them. The worst thing you can do if you're going wrong on a climb is stop and freeze in terror,so I forced myself to get going again. I used a knee to augment the minimal grip provided by my toes and my clawed hands and I was ready to start using my elbows too, as a kind of ice axe, until finally I managed to grovel and wallow my way into a tree's root system and gratefully hugged a tree.

So I was pretty muddy by the time I topped out at Blackford Hill.

Last year we had a clever plan for a new route off B-ford Hill, but I messed it up by going the wrong way and adding maybe 2 minutes to my time. This year I thought I might give it another go. Part of it was the feeling that it would be nice to get away from anyone I might have to race with. Of all parts of the race, the run to Arthur's Seat from Blackford Hill is my least favourite.

"Our route" is a series of left and right turns through Morningside and the Grange. There were no other runners around and the few citizens that were about on this rainy Sunday morning were too polite to stare as I plugged past, covered in mud. I had the usual feeling that I was going in completely the wrong direction but it all came out right - although I was slow and my legs were feeling crampy. Pretty soon I was at Pollock Halls, and then messed this up by having to run around the back for a while until I found where the turnstile is. Some delightful person has crow-barred one of the bars further open on this so for the first time ever I risked limbo-ing though the gate instead of climbing over the wall. That made life a good bit better. Then there was only Arthur's Seat to tackle, and I usually quite like this bit. I have  plodded my way up Arthur's Seat so many times over the years I can pretty much do it without thinking about it. People were avoiding the airy scramble which is on the most direct route but I forced myself to do it. More out of pride that I'd survived the two terrifying mud slopes than anything else. I didn't want to let myself down now.

And then a bit of a run through the Race for Lifers, and up the last hill, and having to go round a clump of big burly challenger blokes who were WALKING and CHATTING on the steps on the final run to the finish ( and then decided to come with me "for fun") and I was at last in and finished.

No records were broken, in fact it was my 3rd worst time, which must be my 5th best time. Immaterial really. I didn't care...except...Aileen was doing the Challenge which sets off 30 minutes ahead of the race and she was standing chatting having been finished for a while. I decided to just be direct and ask her what time she had run. Slower than me. Hurrah. Another 10 points for my over 45 campaign on the Portobello Championships. I believe that'll be 50 points then! "Job Done" as the rather unlikeable Gordon Ramsay says. Did I ever mention he was born the day after me, but in Glasgow, not Ednburgh? The slight difference in our planetary line-ups must account for his dreadful skin. But there are similarities.

So anyway. 7 Hills 2012. Another year, another coaster. As a fellow runner remarked at the end, "I've got a house full of these coasters and I've never used them all because I never have that many friends to my house." The hall-mark of a runner. Unless you're an HBT.

Rain, rain, rain

Its been enforced running for the last two days. The rain keeps falling and I find myself back in winter mood. I can't wake up. I'm always hungry. I vascillate and can't make up my mind to do anything. So last night we went out a hard 10 miler round and about Arthur's Seat. Peter hated it but once I was out there was things about it I quite liked. The foliage and weeds are just so green and furry and the birds are pretty happy with it all.

This morning when I finally rolled out of bed and saw the dark skies and the rain still falling down I could think of nothing I'd rather have than a curry, a naan bread and a pint of beer. I didn't do it though. Porridge and coffee since you asked and then surfing around morosely and pointlessly on t'internet. I've got the 7 hills race tomorrow  so didn't want to do anything too strenuous. Peter's going to cycle it and take pictures to spare his foot. What could we do today then? We drove the 2 miles to Inverleith Park and I set Peter the challenge of running round 5 times in the time it took me to run round 3 times at recovery pace. This wasn't a very fair challenge in actual fact but I hadn't thought it through - and the point wasn't really to do it but to have an aim and get out there. So out there we went in the unprepossessing hard rain and a cold NE wind just to hammer the message home. Hell's teeth.

I was a bit stiff from last night's 10 miler but not too bad. Again the world wasn't a BAD place. The best thing, we both agreed afterwards, was that Inverleith Pond is full to the brim and the gulls and coots were standing on the stepped side of the pond and you could see their feet just under the water. I've seen a gull's feet before but the coots' feet were a revelation! Like big white star-fish! No camera along sadly.

Peter took to the roads to save his new road shoes from the mud of the park so he claims he lapped me but I didn't see him and am too lazy to figure out if that was possible from our respective times. The park is pretty much 1.2 miles in circumference. I did my 3 laps without ever seeing him and jumped in the car and got the heater on. Not long after he flew by on the road shouting "just one more to go" and about 9 minutes later we were done.

I read a bit of an e-book earlier this year by some guy who was claiming that we're all short of vitamin D3, the lack of which makes us go into hibernation mode, over-eat and our bodies don't repair properly. You get a lack of vitamin D3 through lack of sunlight. He reckoned that this was exacerbated in recent years by the much increased use of sunscreen. Well whether its that or whatever, I've had  a real feeling of JUST HOW BAD Christmas is this last week. I hope the weather is just getting all this out the way so it will be nice next weekend for the WHW race

Interval Training

Tonight I thought I'd have a go at torturing myself by doing one of Bert's interval sessions at club. Since I've been back I've been sticking to Gordon's hillier sessions which I find more diverting and there is more room for slacking off if you're not in the mood for too much suffering. Bert's sessions are relentless and there's generally nowhere to hide. 

Tonight's session was 6 X 1200m intervals with a walk break in between. I'll spare you a blow by blow account. Here's a summary; dry mouth, wheezy breath, jelly legs, yawning abysses of space, trying not to think, Bert's "encouragement", "Come on now dig deep!", inner swearing. Eventually; inner peace. I know its a bold claim, but there we were, glad not to be running anywhere, walking slowly across the grass at the end of the session smelling the cut grass and looking at the hills with no thought for the past or the future.

I did Bert's sessions constantly for a couple of years until I couldn't face them anymore and they definitely made me stronger. But could I face doing them regularly again? Don't know. We'll see.

Dechmont Law 10K 2012

We last did this race in 2002, enjoyed it at the time and have always meant to go back but other things got in the way, so when it turned up as a championship race this year we were always going to do it. Actually its possible one of us suggested it but neither of us is sure. Another 10 years doesn't make you any smarter. Or faster....

Peter ran it only a bit quicker in 2002, by 23 seconds, but I think the course might have been dryer, quicker and possibly even shorter. Since then he's got loads better and then hurt his stupid foot. Sadly, I was more than 3 minutes slower - I did get better after 2002 but have slowed again, obviously...this is me trying to speed up again.

Anyway, to the race! There have been some belting rainstorms since yesterday so while it wasn't actually raining during the race there were some very muddy bits. Both Peter and I thought we'd gone round the same loop 3 times to start with but the course map and the Garmin both say no!  After a couple of smaller loops anyway we were set free on a very nice run down through the woods along beside the motorway. The marshalling was exemplary, being provided mostly by the army but also by one alien. Clearly, Livingston being close to Bonnybridge may have influenced matters here. The highlight for me, and a few others I spoke to was towards the end of this stretch running fast downhill through a very dark wood, high trees on either side. Then it was back to do another tortuous loop or so and then a nice downhill to the finish.

The finish line was very efficient too - bar-coded numbers providing a nice touch. They had 2 systems going - written results and bar-code results simultaneously. They were handing out original glazed ceramic medals - interesting goody bags and there was cake and bananas on hand to refuel. Very soon my calorific intake had probably out-stripped my calorific output and the day when I am allowed to wear a Portykini seems to get ever further away...

I'd managed to pip my fellow age-grouper Aileen Ross to the post so I get to take home a nice shiny 10 championship points. In the wider world of glory our Johnny Lawson just missed out on the prizes in 4th, Yana was 3rd lady despite the fact she's just coming back from injury and not used to this off-road Malarkey, Shery was 1st LV and the men won 1st team.  The Porty ladies were 2nd team but I would have been their 4th counter, or 1st non-counter, depending how you look at it, proving that not only is there no "I" in team there's also no Mary in team. Or not this time.

So another weekend hurtles down the dark tunnel towards the week to come....there are probably things I should have done.

Jubilation

We went to Gullane and surrounds today to have a recovery run with Richard and then convene in Falko's for the serious business of receiving our briefing for WHW support duties. I felt better after running 8 miles than I did in the 1st two. It was a nice sunny day but the wind was cold and brisk.

I wish I had a better grasp of where all the pieces of the WHW actually are in relation to the road. I'm going to have to put some effort into getting my head round this. I think Richard thinks I know where I'm going because we supported him in 2010, but what I've retained from that trip are a series of searingly bright images, devoid of sequence or context,  not dissimilar to the film Insomnia.

I've got stuff to do in the morning tomorrow but we might go a run in the Lammermuirs later on. Poor old Richard is getting up at 6am to drive to Tyndrum to run the Devil o' the Highland course and get a bus in Fort William back to his car to drive home. Such is the life of an ultra runner. Be warned.

Anyway, as to the title of this blog, I'm not really jubilant. More mildly grateful that although I have to work Tuesday I'll be getting 3 hrs extra annual leave to take this year....Thank you ma'am.

Glas Tulaichean Uphill Race

Great day out today. Road trip with Tony Stapley in his new Prius made us feel quite  Brad and Angelina on the drive up to Glenshee for the Glas Tulaichean uphill only race. Up until last year this has been organised by Martin Hyman (finisher in the 10,000m final in the Rome Olympics in 1960) and this year he was handing over to Dave of Dundee Hawkhill Harriers. His eye for detail was apparent with lovely clear route markings and the race starting at EXACTLY 2pm, to the second.

We were a bit early and were given friendly greetings, pre-race coffee and the offer of cookies which we resisted only out of politeness. At £4 this race did not break the bank! There were nice small numbers instead of stupid big ones that catch the wind. Fortunately they were water-proof as in a twitchy moment I slopped coffee all over mine and the potential for having a bit of a swim in the burn crossings was also there.

Gareth and Michael G. arrived closer to race time and bustled about a bit getting ready. The sketch is that you put warm things in the back of a pick-up that goes up to the top ahead of you so you don't freeze when you get there but you don't have to carry too much.

I practised my start a bit, as these things are important, although Peter pointed out that what I had there was not a starting position so much as a hip flexor stretch. Well you only learn by trying things out. Tony showed  us his Usain Bolt moves. Jamie Andrew arrived at the start on carbon fibre legs, 2pm arrived and we set off.

It starts off at a relatively tame angle on a good track although one on which you have to keep an eye on your feet because there are many stones and the threat of a nasty trip was ever-present. There was a bit of jostling early on but fairly soon we settled pretty much into the positions in which we were going to stay. There were quite a few burn crossings, 2 of which were fairly deep - about up to my knees. I chose to treat these with respect. I heard Gareth did some acrobatics and ended up with a nasty shin gash.

The route steepened and I did a bit better, taking a few places along the way. I think I was close to overcooking it because I started to feel a bit sick and was developing a belly-ache. I gave myself a talking to - no sense having some horrible time, I backed off slightly and tried to attend to what was going on inside of me and everything kind of resolved. I got in a rhythm that seemed to be suiting me - by no means all out, but then there was a fair way to go. Only about 2.5 miles in did it occur to me to try to figure out just how far I had to go. The race was billed as 7.6 or so K, so I had not thought beyond "less than 10K then". Having some time free now I tried to work it out and figured that it would be a bit less than 5 miles. In the end it turned out to be just shy of 4.5.

Up and up we went, til finally we turned right up a steep heathery hill and I tried to keep some kind of pace to the top and to the finish!

When I straightened up I looked casually to see if there was any kind of a view and there was a stunning one. Hill upon hill upon hill receding into the distance. I jogged back down the hill to the pick up to get a top to put on because the wind was sharp, and met up with Michael G. et al and we went back up for another look at the view, this time with clothes on. The landowner Simon, who'd run the race, talked us through what we were looking at. My reference points are rather sparse for the Scottish Hills, but there were a few names I recognised. Looking really quite splendid and eerie was Ben Macdui and the Lairig Ghru which we raced in 2008. I could see Michael G. wanting to run it - it was written all over his face!

Up the hill came Jamie Andrew, looking strong, and not far behind was our Tony, who had given Jamie a shoulder to lean on going through the deeper burn.

The cold started getting to us and the thought of the post-race food so we set off back downhill. It seemed a surprisingly long way! We weren't racing it. Part of the appeal of this race is that Michael's recovering from a knee injury, Peter's getting over plantar fasciitis, Tony's beaten his PF only to get knee niggles. Gareth is fine, and I have no excuse. I didn't want to run fast. It was great running down the hill chatting. You had to watch your feet though. Michael and Tony both hit the deck but luckily sustained no permanent damage.

Then food - I had three kinds of cake, ignoring the more sober cheese roll option. And we rehydrated on coffee because we were cold, ignoring the juice that was on offer, which is probably why I am now thirsty as the blazes. Prizes time rocked around quickly and we were delighted with a team prize for the Portobello Men. (We think this might be a first in hill racing circles. As someone said, "Isn't that a road running club?") Lots of prizes were given out but there were still more left so the organiser went back to the computer to see who else could get a prize and I was one of those number. I might have been 2nd vet. Who knows though. I think that possibly all the women got a prize. Which is only right. So I have a bottle of wine to broach. Probably quite soon.

Michael and Gareth went off somewhere with the plan to stay up and do another hill or two tomorrow but we were  glad to get back down the road. Which is where we are now. So now we need to...do the dishes, buy something for dinner, cook something for dinner, rehydrate on something other than tea or wine...and formulate a plan for meeting up with Richard tomorrow to discuss team tactics for supporting him on his WHW race in a few weeks time, so I better get on it...

Top day out though - would recommend it to anyone! Well maybe not my mum.