My 2008 West Highland Way race

After 2 failures to make this start line in the last two years, I was just desperate to make the start line this year, and if possible, put in the sub 24 hour time that I was sure I was capable of. I know that to some folk who knew how I was running in training, this might have seemed a fairly modest target, but I had suffered too many disappointments to risk setting my sights too high. My first goal was to get to the start line, my second goal was to finish and my third goal was to go sub 24. In 95 miles there is just so much that can go wrong, it's foolish to take anything for granted.


In the last few days before the race I had a panic attack when I realised that I couldn't find my trusty head torch that had seen me through my Way Highland West run in 2006. Despite turning the house upside down several times I just couldn't find it before the race and had to buy a new one on Thursday. As it turned out, the replacement one (a Petzl Tika XP) turned out to be an excellent little piece of kit, the only downside being rather small buttons that are a bit hard to feel with cold fingers!


Before leaving home, I had this picture taken which provides and interesting contrast to the one taken at the end. A bit scary huh? ;-)

Before

After

As you can probably tell from the after photograph, I was more than a bit pleased. ;-) I hadn't just gone sub 24 but had manage to go sub-23 with a full minute and 8 seconds in hand!

Anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself. Back to the beginning. It was the first time I'd heard the pre-race briefing in the church hall which made a huge difference, I could actually hear it! The one downside of using the hall is that there isn't really room for all the support crews and I think some of them need a bit of pre-race instruction.

I personally feel that some runners are jeopardising the future of the race by having far too large a support team. Parking is at a premium up the WHW and no runner should need more than one vehicle or one runner supporting them at any time during the race. Whilst I accept that bigger vehicles are nice to have, on many parts of the WHW, there just isn't space for big motorhomes! That doesn't mean that runners can't have two teams of support crew to spread the load but having more than one support vehicle occupying precious parking space at a support point is just selfish in my opinion. Some runners had so much support that it could be construed as pacing and muling (carrying a runner's load for them), practices that I consider "unsporting" at the very least. I certainly saw runners being accompanied from Tyndrum carrying nothing at all (not even a water bottle) and I think this breaks the spirit of the race rules if not the letter.


Enough of that, time for my report

Milngavie to Balmaha

"Start slow and speed up later". How many times have I told folk that? Is that what I did? Nope. ;-) I'm an absolute sucker for getting dragged along by a group and as this first stretch never feels like the *real* WHW to me, I'm always keen to get it over with as soon as possible. The pace felt easy but I reached Drymen in 1:55 which was faster than I'd intended and it was only as I climbed Conic Hill and Murdo passed me, that I began to appreciate just how much too fast I might have set off. Still, it had been a glorious night for running with a near full moon, mist over the lochs at Carbeth and beautifully cool and windless. When I say "cool" I actually mean "near freezing". The car thermometer dropped to 3c on the way over to Balmaha and I swear I saw some ice near the top of the hill. I had a lightweight windproof top on though and didn't really suffer apart from slightly chilly fingers. What I did suffer from was an inconvenient call of nature and a surfeit of hill walkers at 4 in the morning! I *think* I was just about decent when they came around the bend up the hill. I think I reached Drymen in 3:14 and stopped briefly for some chocolate milk before heading off at 3:19. I was feeling pretty good but my tummy was bothering me.

Balmaha to Rowardennan

Things weren't right in the Downie guts department and I had to stop twice before Rowardennan to desecrate the countryside. One one occasion, I was forced to stop running and walk, or should I say "mince" with tightly clenched buttocks until I reached a suitable site. Not fun at all! My legs seemed to get heavier and achier as I neared Rowardennan and by the time I reached there, I was seriously beginning to doubt whether I wanted to carry on. Every step was hurting and the though of doing another 60 miles at that point was almost overwhelming. Rowardennan seems to be a real "make or break" point for lots of runners and I think the knowledge of what lies ahead weighs most heavily on you at that point.

Rowardennan to Inversnaid


The midges weren't bothering me when I stopped at Rowardennan and I made the mistake of *not* topping up my repellent. Good old DEET I'm afraid, none of your "Skin so Soft" rubbish. ;-). My motto is, "If it doesn't melt plastic, it can't possibly be any good". Anyway, I'd only put some rather weak DEET solution on the the beginning and the moment I left Rowardennan, I deeply regretted not slathering on more. Like everyone else, I chewed and blinked my way through clouds of the damned beasties, all the time hating every step of the way. My progress had slowed right down and runners were coming past me with distressing frequency. I was feeling really low at this point and wishing I'd picked up more snacks to sustain me to Beinglas. I couldn't run up any sort of hill and even gentle downslopes were causing me pain.


Just before the end of the forest road where the track narrows though, something came right in my body. I suspect it was just delayed absorption of what I'd eaten at Rowardennan but over a very short space of time, I found I could actually run down hills again, and then up hills too! What's more, the awful ache in my legs and feet disappeared. This association between energy levels and pain occurred several times during my run, something I've not read about before. For me, low energy = more pain. High energy = less pain. Quite why this should be so, I'm not sure but the relief of the pain and the pleasure of being able to run again lifted my spirits enormously and I proceeded to retake all the runners who's passed me before Inversnaid.

Inversnaid to Beinglas

At Invernaid, I filled my water bottle with water and midges before setting off on a section that I have mixed feelings about. I actually love the first part of it which is full of swoopy little hills that rise and fall for a few miles. After that though, you get into the snarly roots and rocks and there is so little of it that you can run, even if you want to. It just gets tedious and you just want it to be over as soon as possible. Before Beinglas I managed to overhaul another two runners which was good for morale although I was worrying about my pace.

I don't actually stop at Beinglas, but carry on to the point where the WHW diverts off to the right, At this point the WHW and the road are very briefly on the same side of the river so it's a handy support point that doesn't involve abusing anyone's hospitality. I'd arranged by phone for my wife to bring up some food and drink but before I arrived, I was overwhelmed by a craving for a Solero ice lolly. I don't know why, but it *had* to be a Solero. Dutifully, and amazingly, she got up to Crianlarich and back to the A82 crossing in time to hand over my hearts desire. Sometimes I have to pinch myself to remind myself how lucky I am. ;-)

A82 crossing to Auchtertyre

After my lolly, I was feeling pretty good all the way up to the checkpoint, certainly better than I had done during the Fling which encouraged me. Of course, this is exactly how it *should* have been but it was nice to feel that I didn't want to stop at Tyndrum. Auchtertyre though was the second point where things started to go wrong, for the stupidest of reasons.

Runners were getting weighed at this point (for very good reasons) and I'd put *on* a little weight (just 0.3 of a kilo). Now I was feeling fine but *knowing* that I'd put on weight (potentially very dangerous if you drink too much) made me way too cautious about drinking thereafter. There pre-race instructions were pretty clear that weights would only be treated seriously if there were other significant symptoms but that didn't stop me worrying. Consequently, I got dryer and dryer thereafter. I was here that I heard about Ian's withdrawal, a huge shock for us all I think. Ian is just so synonymous with the WHW that to hear of his withdrawal was almost like being told that the sun was going to rise in the west in the morning. I think Ian has given so much to the race over the years and shared his experience with so many runners that we've come to assume that he's not like ordinary mortals and forget that even he can have an off day. It was a blow for all of us I think but I was glad to hear that he'd decided to stay on. A WHW race without Ian is somehow almost unthinkable.

Auchtertyre to Kingshouse

I left Auchtertyre in pretty good shape but I found the stretch from Tyndrum to Bridge of orchy realy tough. It's just too flat! My feet and legs were beginning to ache again and I found myself increasingly having to grab myself figuratively by the scruff of my neck and give myself a talking to. I could see hopes of a sub 24 slipping away. I had reached Tyndrum in 11:30 and was basing my estimated finishing time on twice that but it was beginning to feel more and more unrealistic. I tried to put on a brave face for the camera at Tyndrum but I think the photograph shows my true feelings.

After Tyndrum I felt like I was crawling. The level bits hurt, the uphills hurt, the downhills hurt. I don't know how long I took but I ran with Rosie Bell for a bit which kept me going when I was feeling so low. Somehow I managed a slightly more convincing smile at BOO.
I had some to eat at Bridge of Orchy and crawled out up over the hill. Once at Inveroran though, I seemed to recover some strength again and the pain lessened once more and I began to start pushing more. I actually made quite good speed down towards Blackrock cottage and you can see I was actually enjoying being able to run again.



I was was again shocked to find another friend in trouble at Blackrock cottage though. This time it was Thomas who was in trouble and it hurt to find out that he too was withdrawing. I stopped for some coffee and food and Thomas donated his supply of grapes that he'd seen me lusting after.

After a slow jog to Kingshouse I was joined by my support runner, the wonderful Anne. She's not been in our club terribly long but has already proved her mettle at marathon and ultra-distance events. She never uttered a single negative word through the last stretches of the race, something that you really appreciate when you're having more than enough negative thoughts to sink a battleship.


Kingshouse to Kinlochleven

Anne and I made as much use of the level (ish) stretch to Altnafeadh as possible to claw back some time but by the time I reached the bottom of the Devil's Staircase, I felt utterly spent. The climb just seemed to go on forever and I'd slowed so much that I was getting cold for the first time in the race. Reaching the top didn't bring any relief either though and I felt as weak as a kitten. My descending legs had utterly deserted me. It wasn't until about half an hour into the descent that I regained the ability to run and from that point things improved (slightly).

At Kinlochleven, I got weighed again and found that I was now 4.7kg *underweight* and it was clear that I had swung too far in the wrong direction. I now had a craving for a sausage roll (the greasy flaky kind) but the best the chippy could manage was a sliced up sausage in a bun. Not exactly what I wanted buy full marks for trying! I can't remember what I drank at this point (other than quite a lot) but I set off with a bottle of Lucozade Sport with caffeine boost (following Thomas's recommendation in his blog) to drink on the climb. I was sufficiently pessimistic at this point to tell my wife that I could easily be two hours before I'd see her at Lundavra.


Kinlochleven to Fort William


The climb was horrible. In 2005 my right knee locked thirty miles into the race. I'd had no trouble with it before or since but now I was getting a stabbing pain in my right knee whenever it bent beyond a certain amount. I had to do virtually the whole climb leading with my left leg and each time being careful not to plant my right foot *higher* than my left, taking lopsided steps all the way up the hill. By now, all hope of a sub 24 seemed lost, a goal that I'd had in mind from my very first race back in 2005. A sub 27.19 PB would have been nice but it was the sub 24 that I wanted. Still, one small step at a time, I made my way up the hill, getting passed by runners yet again. Once at the top however and on to leveller ground, I found that I could jog on my knee without pain. The lucozade seemed also to be doing something as the pain and tiredness seemed to be leaving my body. Combined with the freakishly strong wind against our *backs* (when have you ever known the wind do you any favours in a race?), we were able to pick up the pace. Before long, we could see the runners who had passed us in the far distance. We could see that they were walking up the hills so I determinedly forced myself to run up every runnable hill or at least run further up each hill than they did. Little by little we reeled them in, our pace picking up all the time. By the time we reached Lundavra we were on a high, excited by the realisation that now, not only was sub 24 back on the cards, a sub 23 might be doable!

My wife wasn't expecting us so soon so we had to jog down the road to the car to fetch another bottle of "rocket fuel" as I was now calling the Lucozade. Of course I can't be sure that it was what made the difference, I ate and drank too many different things to be sure but by golly, I didn't think another bottle could hurt at that stage! Before leaving Linlochleven I had asked for some soup in Lundavra but we realised that there wasn't time for this now and we set straight off. The wind wasn't quite on our backs anymore, mostly from the side and sometimes head on but we were still making good time and keeping our head torches in reserve for as long as possible (I just wanted to see how far we could get without them). Eventually though, as we got deeper into the trees, we had to don them and our pace slowed considerably as the path narrowed and wound it's way through the woods. Still, we pressed on as best we could but we caught by a runner (Paul Tranter) and his support as we navigated our way through. I was glad that I had run the route relatively recently in daylight as it was *much* less clear where the path went in the dark and I reckon I probably helped Paul out there. ;-)

The moment we hit the forest road though, it was no holds barred and Paul and his support took off into the distance. Anne and I watched this for a while before realising the we *could* go faster, indeed, probably *had* to go faster if we were to get into Fort William in time for a sub 23. Somehow, we both found untapped reserves and slowly, oh so slowly, we clawed our way back. First we passed another runner (Neil MacRitchie I think) who Paul had already passed and gradually we caught up with, and passed, Paul and his support. After 92 miles we were racing!



We though we had him beat but not long after joining the road after the Braveheart carpark, Paul came steaming past at a speed I knew I couldn't match. A glance at my watch showed however that I was darned well going to have to try to match it though! From the 30 mph sign onwards, I swear I was nearing 6 minute mile pace. I ungraciously left Anne to fly past the roundabout and on towards the leisure centre. There was no time to look at my watch now and I sprinted across the car park at a billion miles an hour (slight exaggeration) and hit the doors so hard I thought I'd broken them for a moment.

This was me pretending to be tired.

And this was me about a minute later when the realisation that I'd managed 22:58:52 hit me.


I'm not given to blubbing but I think you can see just how pleased I was. It was wonderful to have my wife Muriel (on the left) there this time. Back in 2005, I was struggling and came in much later. She'd (quite justifiably) fallen asleep in the car and unfortunately found a mobile phone "dead spot" I couldn't warn her of my approach!

This time she was there though and much happier that I'd arrived over 4 hours earlier than last time. Both she and Anne (on the right) got a huge hug. After shaking hands with Paul (who probably inadvertently gave us the impetus to scape in under the 23 hours), we didn't hang around. We went straight to our B&B, into the shower and off to bed. Amazingly this year I actually slept, something I never normally manage to do after an ultra.

I'm going to stop now as it's coming up to 2 am and I'm making a bit of a bosh of this but I think John K's absolutely right that you need to get this stuff down as soon as possible. I'll do some polishing and additions tomorrow. Sleep well everyone.