Some nice sunrises and a Dawn Raid

There have been some nice sunrises recently - just at the wrong time, - or at the right time to make me slightly late for work if I hang out the window taking pictures. But it seems churlish to just ignore them.
Anyway, the sunrises and the fact that I'm still thinking about  getting my legs a bit more hill-ready in case I do the Carnethy and because the forecast said it was to be a clear sunny morning made me think that WHAT WE SHOULD DO IS... get up into the Pentlands for this sunrise.

This went down wonderfully with Peter who was exhausted from starting back to work on Friday. (hahaha), and as I went off to bed the agreement was that I could go to the Pentlands for sunrise tout seul and he would be dormezing until a more respectable time. However, when I climbed out of bed very early this morning there was a note for me that I should check in case he wanted to come too...

I think to both of our surprises we were actually half way up Turnhouse as the sun rose. It was a nice sunrise. Not the most spectacular because there weren't many clouds. What was more spectacular was the light in the Pentlands. Everything was covered in a light frost and the pinky light picked out the gingery highlights in the boggy grass and heather. There was a cutting headwind to start with though so there wasn't much time for hanging around drinking it all in. My hands were freezing in thin gloves and I bitterly regretted not taking thermal gloves and a warmer hat. Most of the time I have to take things off when I get running, but today by East Kip, despite the three layers I had on up top I put on my thin Montane jacket and kept it on for the rest of the run.

Coming down the path that cuts down just before East Kip it was a relief to get lower and somewhat out of the wind, but was also disappointing as it was deeply in shade and it was much nicer being in the light. I think it was this that made me want to go right up Black Hill rather than just skirt round the edge. Heading back with the wind behind felt a lot more relaxing and less serious. It was cold enough today to make you think quite seriously about what would happen if you broke an ankle and had to go slowly.

We crossed paths with another couple of unknown runners and that helped us keep our focus for the return journey. We weren't exactly racing them, but we weren't exactly letting them go either. Up the roundy hill after Harbour Hill (It might be Capelaw?) they were taking selfies next to the metal statue thing and at this point we passed and stayed ahead.

We headed back via CastleLaw  and got back to the car having run 12 hilly miles. I was quite pleased with the way it went. I never pushed, never really flagged but was damn glad to stop running at the end. Judging by the short walk from the car to the house my legs will be very stiff tomorrow.

Peter took millions of photos so no doubt the highlights will appear on his blog eventually.
UPDATE! Here's some more from today below.

Old Calton Cemetery

Low speed, low heart rate recovery day. But where to go? There's too much temptation to try and do the usual 4 mile route faster - which is counter-productive. So I went up Leith Walk and turned left onto Regent Road. I noticed the Old Calton Cemetery (famous, rightly or wrongly, for its nighttime activity) was open and I don't think I've ever been there - or at least not in the last 2 decades, so I took a detour and went in.

Its sepulchral, mossy green sternness was the perfect accompaniment to the leaden grey skies and the chill, damp air. As I was buzzing my gas I thought "this is as good as it gets".

I'm only kidding of course. It wasn't me that was buzzing gas.

Then I ran down that street with the American Consulate on it and thought bitter thoughts about wealthy people. Nice houses. I would like one. But then I'd only run 2 miles and that would never do, so I went back along London Road to the top of Easter Road and stopped worrying about wealthy people. Old men smoking in pub doorways watched me wordlessly as I ran past. Pretty soon I was home.

Only 3 miles but I couldn't be bothered making up more convoluted loops in order to make up the difference. I'll live to fight another day.

I think the rest of the day's activities will be in-doors and near the heater based. Meantime Peter and Graham Henry are out for a 40 miler...good luck to them.

The sun was always somewhere else today...

I nearly lost my fingers taking these last 2 photos

It was very cold...

Weather man say big sun, no hat - but he lie! I went to the Pentlands to try to settle the problem of whether to enter the Carnethy 5 again this year, or whether that's just a recipe for pain and humiliation. It was pretty cold out there. There was a stiff wind in my face as I was coming up from the Balerno side. I hoped this meant I'd get blown all the way back but it didn't seem to work out that way.

The car park was full but there didn't seem to be a soul about. I passed 2 walkers on the way up the Drove road and a tight little pack of proper looking runners passed me going the other way, that was it. I later saw what was probably most of the car drivers in a natural crater at the foot of Carnethy, eating sandwiches and drinking tea. There were about 30 of them. I should have taken a photo but I couldn't keep stopping. Did I mention it was c-o-l-d out there?

I took the obligatory pictures of the lovely views, and it always seemed the sun was somewhere else. I thought this meant that sooner or later the sun would shine where I was and I would relax and think "ah, that's better!", but I thought wrong, it never happened.

I went up West Kip and East Kip, Scald Law and I was thinking about skipping Carnethy...but then...well it's only one more, so I slogged my way up Carnethy. It was bloody cold and windy up there. Nothing was lighting my "I want to run the Carnethy 5" fire. "Run" is a bit of a euphemism anyway, mostly slogging your guts out up unfeasibly steep hills with your feet slipping in the wet peat and your calves screaming...

I was glad to turn around and run back down. It was only when I was already half way down to the Howe that I remembered that the 10 mile route I had planned to do entails going back up Scald Law and then running down from the right hand side of East Kip to near the Howe, and along the path...oh well, too bad. 8.5 miles rather than 10.

I had driven most of the way from Balerno to Leith before my hands thawed out. And then I got in and had an eatathon.

Peter is down at the Green Mantle Dash with Michael G.

The jury's still out about the Carnethy 5. Looking at the site, though, it isn't fastest finger first anymore (it used to sell out in an hour or two from entries opening) - now you have to apply to enter the race and then someone somewhere judges you on an unknown criteria. Almost worth doing. Presumably we're all being watched on cameras and then "the public" votes us in or out and then Davina phones you up when you least expect it...

...now that I've eaten my fill I might take my duvet jacket and hat off and think about maybe stretching and going in the shower. It has been quite a nice mid-winter break really. It ends tomorrow.

Porty Promathon

I managed to ignore Hogmanay totally last night so it was easy to get up today. Why I had signed up for the Promathon I wasn't sure. At least the weather looked settled.
Just outside our front door there was half a bottle of Jim Beam and the contents of a kebab lying on the pavement. They're better than us in Portobello though, - there I saw nothing but champagne corks in the sand.

I had a nice long warm up down on the shore line and kept away from the pre-race buzz. I was determined not to try and go out hard or any such tosh. It was going to be bad enough without any desperate attempts to outrun my own form and then trying and failing to hang on for three miles. So it was easy at first. Then the people started to flood past me. What I did right was I didn't try to hang on. I 'let them go'. That John Forker breezed past me chatting all the time. I managed a few words back but that was it. At two miles I fancied a walk break but it was very public and there didn't seem to be any excuse for this so I kept on keeping on.

The leaders coming back towards us was a good distraction and took my mind off things for a while. My legs were telling me they were tired. What rot.
It seemed an endless trundle along to the 'turn around man'. To my surprise there were people still behind me. Bonus. God it's a long prom. Finally I was at where the fun park used to be until nature improved it and I knew it was safe to lift the pace if I could. To my surprise I could and managed to get away from a small shoal of other runners around me.

Then fini - the end. Juice and raisins. Just over 8 minute miles. Don't even bother telling me that story about how you once ran a whole marathon at an average pace better than that or I will have to hurt you.
Peter, meantime, decided to obliterate the pain of being beaten by two other MV50s by running straight into the sea. It's a cruel business - but addictive. Or maybe it's cruel because it's addictive. A few people said it was good to see me back. "I'm not back, I'm not back" I told them, but nobody seemed to believe me. "No way, Jose" I muttered to myself, "there is no way I'm going to start all that business again." I had to actively stop myself from thinking while I was running, for God's Sake, because it was so awful and I wanted to walk. Why would you do that to yourself?

Then I met old friend Caroline MacIntyre - now Clark - who is just dipping her toe into the racing world. I found myself, like Pinkman at the Narcotics Anonymous meeting saying "We should go and do a small hill race" (d'you wanna try this blue meth? huh?). Michael Geoghegan was saying something about the Greenmantle Dash tomorrow but I managed not to hear.

Anyway. Now I am hungry and thirsty. I might go out and see if that JB and the kebab are still there.
Happy New Year One and All!