Falkland Flyer Age-Graded Trail Race

As we got into our kit before heading for Fife I had to reflect that it was a good thing that the Heat magazine photographers probably wouldn't be there. There aren't enough  circles of shame really to cover it. Hibernating you can forget yourself - and then suddenly into the light of day comes - hairy legs and armpits and those damn "Christmas" pounds - just when are they planning to drop off? Anyway, enough about Peter...its my blog after all.

The Falkland Flyer trail race was also to be an age-graded race, which mixes things up in an interesting way. I knew it wouldn't particularly favour me at present but it seemed a VERY good alternative to the 10 mile road races on offer tomorrow. Its a bit of a hike to get the 40 miles to Falkland but Fife always put on a good race and make it worth it. There was a good turn out of familiar faces.

The air was very cold before the start of the race and it was a thought to strip down to vest and shorts. I knew that not far into the first hill I'd be regretting it if I wore anything long-sleeved though, so braved it. I set off in a funny state physically. Usually I'll get at least a burst of speed at the start of a race just from the adrenaline mounting but I felt very flat and cold to start with. I pushed it on the hills - and it must have been too far into the red and I developed a sore stomach. Suddenly 6 miles was looking like a very long way! It was cold enough so that even though I was working I felt quite chilled. I thought about dropping out and walking back to the start but the knowledge that the pain would stop nearly as soon as I stopped and then I'd have to walk or jog back to the start and explain myself and all that jazz made it seem easier to keep running. At some point in all that I relaxed and my belly pain melted away. By 2 and a half miles into it I was actually enjoying myself.

My favourite bit was on the off-road uphill at half way. There I got to pass - even if only temporarily - a whole heap of people who had gone past me before. Still something tucked away in my legs from Carnethy I guess.

Throughout the race I passed Pamela Cruickshanks several times and she passed me back. I caught her again at the top of the hill and thought maybe I had her as I now felt much more comfortable and she didn't attack back immediately. After a while though, on a long downward incline she came steaming past at a speed I really couldn't hope to match. I was very impressed. She looked in great shape.

Sophie Mullins atop a huge pile of wood meant that the end was nearly upon me! I picked up the pace as much as I could but couldn't catch Pamela. I think I narrowly held off another chap - my oxygen starved brain has not retained any detail about this though.

It wasn't the quickest time for a 6 miler but I think it is fair to say in terms of ups and downs its a pretty brutal course. Because I felt so bad early on and then recovered I was in quite a good mood at the end. If I'd continued to feel like I did at the start I think I'd have packed the whole running thing in.

The prize-giving was interesting. The Fifie-wifies did very well. Everyone was given their age-graded time so I'm looking forwards to having a good scan to see where everyone was. Peter was 4th to cross the line but was 7th in age-graded terms - clocking an impressive 31 minutes something! Jeff Farquhar beat everyone literally, physically, morally, totally...

Well done once again Fife AC! I had (I'm ashamed to say) 3 cups of tea - a bit of iced gingerbread, a cake with blue icing and a smiley face, half a chocolate biscuit and 3 savoury biscuits. All for £3. Peter came away with a bag of goodies for coming 7th. Brian Cruickshank was the evil genius behind it all.

NB to Dunbar

Its pushing it but I'm running out of time. After I suffered no real ill effects from doing nearly 18 miles last Saturday I thought I'd push up my mileage by trying a 22 miler today. Sadly the sun, which had been shining earlier in the week when I was working, was now hidden by humourless grey clouds. I really didn't feel like running far today but we've already half hatched a plan to race on Saturday so if I wanted my legs to recover in time it really had to be today.

So, the team, up and at 'em as usual, parked beside North Berwick Law just after 2pm and set off along the John Muir Way towards Dunbar, with the plan of turning around at 11 miles. We had an early stop in East Linton at the Co-op (with mud wedges on my trainers, the woman behind the counter looked askance at me and I don't blame her) for Chocolate Brownies and fudge which were delicious but I ate with a sinking sense that now I was committed to the whole distance - nothing less could justify eating all that sugar!

Its a pretty nice route but I can't do it justice - it was just about knocking some miles out today. We'd pretty much failed to think about when sundown would be and how that would affect us so we were benighted for about the last hour of running. Strangely, running in the dark was quite comforting. It was easier to switch off from the reality of it all. The birds all put on a concert for dusk - the thrushes were a-chucking and the owls in the woods were hooting. The pheasants sounded like someone was throttling them for about 10 minutes - maybe they were...

So home now and I'm having a celebratory beer. That went okay.  Well actually it was excruciating.

Dunbar XC

Last and I thought best (although I missed Norham so can't comment on that) of the Borders XC. I didn't have ideal prep. with 17+ miles in my legs and  2 and a half glasses of wine yesterday, and then I started having computer problems after midnight last night so was up til 2am tearing my hair out. (Its half fixed - don't know what's wrong - sometimes will boot up and sometimes not).

So didn't feel great crawling out of bed at 9am with gravelly eyes.

Andrew S. came along for a lift and we travelled down together.

The route had been changed at the 11th hour to White Sands, just beyond Dunbar. The landscape seemed vaguely  surreal as we approached on the single-track road. It was something about the flat expanse of wild grass, the cement factory billowing grey smoke and the wide sky above us.

At the car park there were more and more increasingly familiar faces! A few Porties, including Ian Goode, Johnny Lawson and Lynn Morrice showed up. (Lynn brought cake again!)

Mercifully, we got the running into the wind on soft sand over right at the start, running to one end of the beach and then turning around again, but with the wind now behind us. We ran back along the beach, up onto the headland and then a lot of enjoyable single-track, through gorse bushes, opening out onto paths and narrowing back down again. A tall, implacable, white lighthouse looked on.

Discussing this later, it wasn't just me that felt that the lighthouse took forever to pass and then forever to get to coming back in the other direction. Some trick of perspective made it always seem equally far away. Or maybe my fever is back. One of my ears blocked up again in protest at the cold wind. My heel  grumbled mildly but wasn't terrible.

Knowing that the last few weeks haven't been ideal training for ANYTHING I had really let go of all expectation, and although the cheerful Mr. Stavert taunted about how he was going to beat me today, I found I didn't mind. I kept myself busy focusing on another woman who was now a little ahead, now a little behind. She quite markedly struggled on the uphills so I tucked away that knowledge for later on, and sure enough, on the return journey, I caught her on an incline and then tried to keep going steady so as not to lose my advantage. I tucked in behind a Gala Harrier and then passed him and he tucked in behind me and used me shamelessly as a wind-break until the last flailing sprint during which he overtook me. I'd have done the same.

Then it was all over. A couple of the Portobello team were blooded having come unstuck on the final bit of gravelly road.

Back at Hallhill we got showers and heaps of soup, sandwiches and cake. Peter took home 3rd in his category (45-49) and Lynn and I took 2nd in our respective categories (39-39 & 40-44), so we were well pleased. Elegant trophies. Everyone who completed 3 races got horse brasses too which was a nice touch. Well organised event with millions of prizes.

A good finish to the XC season. Now I am icing my heel and wrestling with my laptop...

Pans 2 NB

Today's aim was a 15+ mile run to start increasing the mileage...to see whether the Highland Fling is now out of the question or salvageable. We kicked around all the 15 mile routes we could think of and weren't inspired by any of them so we decided to buy day-saver tickets to North Berwick, jump off the train at Prestonpans and run to North Berwick, getting the train back home. Peter's mileage is increasing nicely. He did a 30 miler on Tuesday and still went to the club session on Wednesday, so he was just along for the extra miles and as moral support.

Both of us had tired legs right from the get go. Peter's getting close to an 80 mile week so there were no mysteries there about why his legs hurt but I last ran 4 and a half miles on Thursday. Why then do mine feel like set concrete?

Nice day. Definite signs of spring on the way. All spring was out of my step by 9 miles or so however and it gradually became undiluted hell on a stick. I used the cover of the roar of traffic in the last couple of miles into North Berwick to shout profanities as Peter looked on and laughed and pointed at his head. I enjoyed letting loose with the histrionics. Don't usually make a fuss. Then I realised that we were dangerously close to the time of the next train back to Edinburgh so I had to concentrate and try to get a move on. Got to the train about a minute before it pulled out the station. So that was good.

15.8 miles plus 1 each way to and from the station. The jury's still out about whether I can up the mileage enough for the Fling. The Borders XC tomorrow should be interesting...

Again!

It was the crack of noon. The phone rang. We had not long since rolled out of bed. It was Amanda! We were supposed to be going a run! Ahhhh. Most of our usual 12 mile-ish routes would be thick with mud or were just TOO boring. So we set out to do the route we meant to do yesterday. But the tide was in yesterday! We looked at the Leith tide tables, and they showed the tide being high in Leith 15 mins later than yesterday - so we were able to work backwards - we started at about 2.30 yesterday and pretty much hit the high tide...if we could set off at 1.30 today that would hopefully give us enough time in hand to get round the trickier bits of headland before full high tide....it was by no means a sure thing but it seemed a reasonable enough punt to take...

And so it was. We set off from the same place, an hour earlier, with Amanda and Scott. It was the same grey day. The wind was forecast to be 7mph compared to yesterday's 6mph.

I felt a lot better than yesterday. I hoped I might. 11 hours sleep can do wonders.

Long story short, the tide was pretty far up the beach but we made it round with some minor diversions inland. Scott and I ran in shorts and got our legs lacerated by the thorny bushes and the sharp grasses.

We finished up with...cheese tongues and I had some more of that diet Irn Bru.

How the weekend flies by and I have not yet done the things that I need to, to prepare for the week...
Nice day out though and my heel wasn't too bad. Fingers crossed I can start increasing my mileage again in earnest. My legs were like concrete by the end of the run...

Time and Tide

Orange stains from crawling through the thorny bushes.

Due to sore heels and lingering flu bugs we gave the Nationals XC at Falkirk a miss and went for what we planned to be an easyish 12 miler round the beaches of East Lothian.

 We headed down to Yellowcraigs and planned to run along the beach back to Aberlady and then back to Gullane to pick up the car but the tide was in and halted us in our tracks. We had to go a bit inland for a while but found ourselves bush-whacking through those thorny bushes with the orange berries, (Does anyone know what those are?) beside a high green fence over which was, I think, the grounds at Archerfields. Peter climbed over the wire but I didn't want to, even if it hadn't been a difficult climb (nowhere for your toes to go), the woods were full of the sounds of gunshot.

So we back-tracked a bit, wondering what to do, when we noticed a little sandy path back to the beach and by this time there was a thin margin of beach over which we could run, if we were careful and quick. I managed to move considerably faster than I have all year, but only for a short while.

There was a bit more climbing and crawling involved to get over some cliffs as the tide was right in beneath them...

The extra-curricular bush-whacking and climbing and what-not was a bit exhausting so  when we got to Gullane beach we headed straight back to the car instead of taking in the next bit of headland. Predictably we found ourselves at Falko's. Today they were selling cheese and sausage tongues! Delicious washed down with diet Irn Bru.

8 and a bit miles. I felt very sluggish after the first couple of miles. I am hoping it is just the toxic effects of work wearing off...