The Strange Tale of the Christmas Sparkle

 Yesterday was the second edition of Megan Wright's Binning Woods Races. The first was in 2016, and it was a good event, so when we heard it was on again we didn't really question if we'd give it another go. This year the course was a bit different, and Peter and I both thought it was better. I couldn't even tell you why. It was good last time.

Before arriving at the race we'd been talking, inevitably, about Peter's dad, who is buried in the woods somewhere. (It was all above board all you amateur sleuths - this isn't a confession.) We wondered if he might give us a sign - bubbles of light in the trees - that kind of thing. I didn't see any bubbles of light in the trees. But I'm going to come back to this theme. Please be patient.

The Hays

And Nick and son Jack.

So anyway, we arrived. We saw nice Dunbar people. Binning Woods is a lovely woods. I went a long warm up lap because I was freezing and because I think my whole system works better after running a couple of miles. I ran my warm-up lap in a jumper and duvet jacket and by the time I got back to the start I was roasting.

 

I know I look a bit mental. I was excited. Be kind. Anyway, I am a bit mental.

It was a good strategy. It wasn't hard to take off my jacket and jumper just before the start. I was glad to be stripped down and even in a t-shirt and shorts I was too hot after the first lap.

I was determined to run within myself and pace it and not get caught up in mini-races. This isn't so easy. It's not bad when you don't know anyone around you but then I was in bunches of people I did know. I stuck behind Anne Hay for the first wee while and used her intelligence for path finding. She was going for straight lines rather than trying to dodge the muddy bits and that worked well. There was plenty of mud but none of it was that deep. Neil Jones appeared from somewhere. He appeared to be enjoying the mud so much he'd been rolling in it.
I lost Anne for a while. I got a bit stuck behind a mother and baby unit who were running side by side and there was no way past without really barging, which seemed unnecessary, so I hung back. Eventually the path widened and I got by. It had given me a nice wee breather. I didn't know if I would see Anne again but I found myself just behind her again and this time I felt like I could keep going so I did. After a while I went past Neil with his muddy back and elf ears too, but he wasn't keen and after asking if I'd like an elf hat to wear (which I politely declined)  surged off forwards. I didn't try to give chase. I have no idea what shape anyone is in and I went back to this plan of running steadily. After a while I caught up to Ian of HBT and an HBT lady and I went past both of them. The HBT lady came back at me and did that thing - unintentionally I think - where she went in front of me and then slowed down. This switched on my fighty brain (technical term, it's somewhere in the middle of your head) and I went past her and kept moving faster for a wee while. Lap 1 was over and I headed off back out into the woods. The 2 HBTs did not come back. After a while I drew even with Neil Jones again, who by now had lost the elf hat. I sensed he was somewhat spent, and this time, when I passed, he let me go.

Now you can't afford to get complacent in a race, but I was enjoying myself. I was mostly on my own and it was peaceful. I think there's a Japanese thing where you hang about in forests to restore your aura. It didn't seem beyond the bounds of possiblity that my aura was being restored, because I did feel good. I thought it was possible that Peter's dad was giving me a hand too.  Whatever it was, I was clicking along nicely. It didn't seem that long before the 4th mile beeped on my Garmin and there was only one last mile to go. I had no idea what other 50s ladies were in the race so I thought I shouldn't let any available places go - just in case. (I needn't have worried. As it turned out the race was bristling with top over 50s talent and I wasn't in with any kind of a chance.) There was an older looking elf up ahead of me for a long time and I thought I would take her if I could, but in the event, she drew slowly away ahead. I ran mostly on my own to the finish.

Ah, the finish. Such a good place. I stood about in a daze slowly cooling down for quite some time. Be still my beating heart.

Nick attends to his nutrition.

Peter was 2nd V50 and Willie was 1st V60. I don't know the name of man no. 3 in the picture but he was 1st V50 and was very speedy by all accounts.

When I got home and I was downloading my photos from the day, I came across a curious thing. There were weird sparkles in some of my pictures. I shouted Peter through and he looked at me suspiciously. Was I at it? Had Peter's dad decided to give us a wee message after all? Later I looked at what the setting next to "automatic" on the dial of the camera was and found it was set on a filter called "Sparkles". Well, that was some kind of an explanation, but it's never happened before. Did Peter's dad change the settings? He didn't used to be so very technologically gifted, very often bewailing the fact that Windows 95 had become redundant. But maybe he's been taking a class.

ANYWAY. 

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Today, Peter was off to run 25 - 30 miles with Nick and Nasher. He was crying as I waved him out the door, but there was nothing to be done. He was undoubtedly in for a thrashing and it would do him good anyway.

I set off a little while later on a more leisurely journey-run of my own making.

I've got Strava Challenges to be met and I wanted to get a bit of distance in today, and do a bit of ascent too. I also wanted to take in a bit o' "Christmas" towards the end. I thought I might use my new found sparkles to good effect. So I set off at foot-off-the-gas pace round Arthur's Seat. At the top of the hill I spotted this fine pheasant fellow and stopped and had a breather. Is he even real? Does he know he's made out of felt? No matter.

In the distance the Forth was looking ethereal. I threw in a bit of sparkle.

Fife seemed to be getting the best of the weather, which didn't seem right.

The forecast had promised a bit of sun, but there wasn't much sign of it.

Edinburgh looked quite dull.

until...

I made my way over to Blackford Hill through the quiet back-streets.

From the top of Blackford Hill I could see a grim looking fog rolling over the Forth. Again, Fife and the Ochils seemed to be blessed with all the sunshine. It seemed the sun's benificent rays couldn't penetrate the atmosphere of seething commercialism over Scotland's Capital City however.

So we were blanketed in a chill, damp air.

As soon as I hit the more densely populated regions my good-ish mood evaporated. There were scores of yacking people in parkas with legions of dogs with them. I saw one posh looking lady kicking some leaves over a spaniel turd so she wouldn't have to bring it home. I told her what I thought of her with my eyes.

I stopped at a wee cafe just out the gates of the Hermitage and had a coffee and a tiny brownie. (To eat.) (Just a cake, shut up.) I sat in the wrong place, just inside the door where the counter was. A dad came in who obviously wasn't used to wrangling children. His 4 year old came and stared at me as I drank my hot coffee and ate my cake. I found this uncomfortable until I realized that in her all-in-one romper suit and bobble hat she looked kind of like a penguin. When I thought of her as a penguin it didn't feel so uncomfortable to be stared at unflinchingly. She wasn't getting a bit of my brownie anyway. And I couldn't take a picture, which is a shame. The cafe had a heavy door that sticks, and while the dad ordered things at the counter his penguin toddled right behind the door. If anyone had come in, the door would have knocked her hard in the head. I couldn't relax, waiting for the impact. "You're a fucking moron". I thought, as I looked at the dad. The brownie hadn't fixed my blood sugar.

Time to move on. Joy to the world.

Then it was difficult for me not to think of this as some soft-eyed paedo Santa who keeps a stable of captive bears.

"Everyone has a price little Ted" said the cynical Panda.

Even my sparkles couldn't fix the dense and dank heart of the capital.

I had thought about running a half marathon but it was time to be getting home. I arrived home having run just shy of twelve.

Tune in a gain soon for more "Bah, Humbug!!!"

Storm Deirdre.

Scotland was on lock down. Storm Deirdre was on her way. There was gonna be ice. It wasn't gonna be nice. At work on Friday we were getting emails about it. The weekend looked bleak. So when you get bleak you've just gotta make bleakade and drink it down. So that's what me and Buchanan did.

We scrapped plans for going anywhere in the car. What's the point in travelling to see what grey looks like? We could get that nearer to home. It was supposed to start snowing at about noon, so when we left the house shortly before that after a long session of shilly-shallying, I thought we'd blown it. But it didn't even matter. We've blown it before. So we set off for Corstorphine Hill and we set the day's mission as "bleakest black and white photograph". Now I come to think about it, I've not seen Peter's photos, so I don't know who won.

It's surprisingly hard to stand on Antony Gormley's sloping shoulders.

The sky got darker and darker, but nothing happened. A couple of miles in I realised I'd layered up too thoroughly and had to take a top off. Still it wasn't hanging around weather either. We had a bag of mixed nuts that we thought might entice some of the wild-life to come within patting distance, but no-one was having any of it. Nobody wanted our nuts. I suspect they get better at the zoo next door.

This is an excerpt from a dream I had. The baby foxes and cat looked at me with resentment, while the big fox and the owl couldn't even look at me. They said they weren't angry, just disappointed. I don't even know what I did wrong.

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Thank God the sun came out the next day. It looked like it was going to be one of those sunny, bright but icy days. I'd like to tell you we set off first thing but, well, I think it's winter brain chemicals. It's impossible to get moving quickly. Eventually we did set off and we agreed we'd head for the Lammermuirs. I thought it would be harsh but scenic. I wanted to go to the Lanterne Rouge first for coffee and cake though. Peter was a bit reluctant as it was already the afternoon. Sensing mutiny near (mutiny is never far away in the winter months) he didn't make a thing of it though. I enjoyed a piece of transcendent cake. I don't know what actual kind it was and I can't believe I didn't take a photo.

The roads were getting less welcoming as we approached the Hopes Reservoir. Peter was telling me something long and involved while I was actually wondering this - if we did happen to slip off the narrow icy road down the steep embankment, would a couple of the supple looking trees catch the van, and could we carefully crawl out the car before it plummeted a further 30 feet onto the stony ground below? Thankfully I still don't know.

We got to the car park and found it was a couple of inches deep with ice - and there was thick ice all the way up the road. Someone super smart had decided to wear road shoes for the run. (It was me!) and someone else had followed suit. So we ran gingerly into the slicing wind with little grip under our feet. Half a mile in we were having to pick our way carefully. I suggested we cut our losses and run back to the van and head to Gullane for a proper run. To my surprise Peter concurred. If we'd had Yaktrax or something like that, we'd have been alright. As it was we were hopeless. We said goodbye to the arctic hares and foxes (imagined) and turned tail.

When we got to Gullane the wind had dropped and it felt very cosy and inviting in comparison. To be fair the weather forecast had said the wind might drop in the afternoon, but I wouldn't have knowingly waited until 2.30pm to start running. That's what we did though and it was a surprisingly magical run. There was an endless sunset and we both took endless photos of it. I've tried to control myself and not put them all up.  The tide was a long way out at Aberlady bay and the sand was flat and great for running on. Our city runs can be diverting but it was noticeable just how much nicer it was being right out in the country. The air is better, everything smells better. everything sounds better.

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Another Sunday Omnibus

Whatever happened to the time?

It is flying in, which is probably a good way to tackle this time of year.

I have 3 main things to tell you about; my heart stress test, the Water of Leith Half and the new Hermitage hilly 10K trail race. I might try to approach them in an orderly fashion.

My heart stress test.
Previously in YakHunter news I was telling you that instead of getting to run on a treadmill and prove my prowess to the doctors, I had a letter through saying they were going to lie me on my back and fill me full of drugs to see if my heart would pop or not. They call the procedure "Pop, or Not?". Okay, that last bit was a lie.

I wasn't so pleased about this. I wanted to run on the treadmill. I needn't have worried. They'd sent out the wrong letter. I got to run on the treadmill. What they don't tell you is you have to run on the treadmill with your tits out. I know. I'm sorry. It's for the ECG. You can imagine your own Carry-On jokes about this. I'm not helping. It was hard work, I'm telling you, especially as I hadn't had a race coffee. The good news....well there were 2 bits of good news really. They took an ultrasound scan of my heart before I started and stuck on all the ECG stickers, and then I had to get on the treadmill and run hooked up to the ECG - and then, they had emphasised to me, when they stopped the treadmill I had to get back into position for a further scan as quickly as possible because they wanted to see what was happening when my heart was working hard.  Well as soon as they stopped the treadmill I flew back to the scanning machine, because I was taking it all quite seriously. The scanning lady said I got a gold star for the quickest time back to the scanner ever.

The other bit of good news was the cardiologist said he couldn't see anything that was happening that would worry him -  which was nice, -  and that I should be sensible.

This was all very good. I was glad to get it over with. All I'd  wanted them to say was "everything seems fine", and I got that. I've a couple more things to do; wear a wee mobile ECG machine for 24 hours at some point, and do some genetic testing just to see if I carry some gene or not - which they say might well be inconclusive.

I didn't have much time to let this all settle in because I had work and then I had the start of a 3 day therapy and meditation thing, which I won't try to explain.
On the Monday me and P, who had hardly seen each other, went out for a longish run round Gullane and Yellowcraigs.

It was a stormy week but the forecast was looking good for the weekend. When I say "good" I mean the sun was due to come out. It was still meant to be cold and quite windy, but it had been so grey for so long, the prospect of a bit of sun was good enough.

Also we had signed up for a double race weekend.

Water of Leith Half Marathon
"What?" I hear you expostulate, "A lady of your age and delicate health?". Yes I know. It was just one of these things that happen. First we signed up for the Water of Leith half. I wasn't thinking so much that I wanted to run that far, but that the pub at the end might be fun. I also thought I might easily get a very good handicap on the back of my 2:02 Dumfries Half Marathon. Well the pub at the end was fun - but I didn't get a very good handicap. It wasn't far off what I was actually capable of on the day so I mustn't grumble. I was given a predicted time of 1:55 and came in just shy of 1:57. I actually enjoyed most of the run. It was sunny at times and we mostly had the wind at our backs. The last couple of miles gets a bit busy as you get into town and onto the cycle path where there are people and bikes and dogs to dodge.

I don't like this omnibussing. I have many tales to tell and no time to tell them.

It was very good catching up (not literally) with lots of folk (in real life lots of people caught up with me!). Louise told me about a bunch of different adventures she's been having and is making me think it's time we planned something a bit adventurous. Maybe even go beyond Gullane.
It's always good to see Nick W.
I had a pint and a half of brown beer and a mug of chips.

The race was very well, and very nicely, organised by Angus and Andy. They create a lovely, friendly, easy atmosphere to the whole thing and the results were out and up super-quick!

Simon Axon won, and looked very uncomfortable about it, but I think he fully deserved it.  We didn't win back our team prize, which was a pity, because it was three bottles of Jam Shed, Peter's favourite wine. He says it's lovely and sweet.



Hermitage Trail 10K
I'm not sure if this is really its name. I've seen it called a few different things. It's a new race organised by the Scurry people who made "Scurry to the Sea". It runs through the Hermitage in Morningside, and up onto Blackford Hill and also up towards the Braid Hills. 1000 years ago we used to live in Morningside. This was before Peter and I were "an item". (I often feel words conceal more than they reveal, but anyway, I'm sticking with this phrasing.)
Peter and our friend Jamie used to be drinking a can of beer or two on a Sunday and then seeing if they could throw the empty cans into the bin. This wasn't as easy as it sounds as the bin was in a wee alcove and you had to hit just the right spot on the wall for the can to rebound at the right angle to land in the unseen bin. I'd go for a run instead, around the Hermitage, and I got to know all these paths quite well. When I saw there was going to be a race there, I really wanted to do it. But we were already signed up for the WOL. And we wanted to do that. But maybe we could just do both.
So we signed up for it.

Broad strokes. Alarms went off. People got up. Venus was bright, but some people didn't care.

We made good time across town and had no trouble parking, which was good but meant a fairly long wait around before we started. We met a very cold Helen Falconer who is running very well and continued to do so today!

There was a high turnout of Carnethies to marshal, which was nice of them, and they were a good-natured bunch even though they must have been freezing.

I think Nicola won the 10K although it was all over before I got in and we missed the prize-giving because Peter wanted to go and look for dippers.

Early on, Richard Hadfield sneaks up beside me and asks me how I am. The dog!

Here's me, towards the top of Blackford Hill, leading from the middle.

I really liked the route of this race today. I'm familiar with the various paths and hills although I'd never put them together in quite the same way before. It is technical and hilly enough so it slows down people who never do off-road, but there was nothing very difficult. There were a couple of patches where the mud was bad enough that I kind of wished I had my Inov8s on, but Hoka Speedgoats were fine for 99% of it. What I didn't like, and was nobody's fault, was how busy it was. Yesterday was a fairly serene day in comparison. There was a lot of to-ing and fro-ing between the women where I was. It was hectic, and I felt crowded, and it's a nice part of the world, but I never saw anything but my feet and maybe 15 feet ahead. If I'd been fresh I might have liked it more.

Peter was in a slightly better mood at the end than he had been at the beginning - I think he was feeling tired and old, even though he'd run a good race. He's not a fan of the Xmas music that was playing, and neither am I, so after finding some cake to eat. (It took quite a while to want to eat) we went back down into the Hermitage to look for dippers. It's an idyllic spot, but in the winter the sun doesn't make it in there at all I don't think. It was damp and chill and the water and the ground and the trees all looked a greyish brown. I could hear birds but I couldn't see any. When we got back the prize-giving had been and we just had time to make it out before the fun run - a cavalcade of elves - was set off.

After a brief chat with Graeme Dunbar and Kathy Henly, we took off in the Berlingo and we are now slowly piecing ourselves together again.

So- a 2 race weekend - well I'm glad I managed it but I don't want to do it too often (ever again). Both of us were feeling we were missing just being out for a run in the country to see what's there.

This evening's challenge, if I can face it, is to fit a set of mudguards to my mountain bike.

Strava said I made a massive relative effort. Thanks Strava. You're the only one who understands me.