The Fling is flung, the grass is riz...

... I wonder what dem birdies is?

Cuckoos of course. What else would you call 300+ folk prepared to run 53 miles just for fun. ;-)

I'm feeling really guilty about the time it's taken me to get around to doing this as I've encouraged others to write their reports as soon as possible post-race. In my defence, I'd just say that a) I've been a bit busy worrying about the Troon 10K (now past) and b) having been so closely involved with the event as webmaster & runner, part of me is reluctant to draw the curtain on this year's race by writing my report. (Only 350 days to the next Highland Fling!)

This was the second time I've run the race although I marshalled the first two years so one way or another, I've been involved with every Fling so far.

My back problems over Christmas & the New Year meant that I entered this years race with far lower expectations than last year and my main target was to just finish. An under 12 hour time would have been nice but without the WHW to look forward to, I didn't want to bail out of my main ultra for the year.

I woke at 2:55 in the morning on the Saturday of the race, five minutes before my alarm was due. Having a whole 5 minutes extra to play with I decided to shower and shave pre-race. Probably a bit stupid in retrospect but I'm such a creature of habit I couldn't stop myself. ;-)

I'd prepared all my kit and drop bags (having decided not to go for self supporting this year) and drove up to Prestwick to pick up a clubmate and then on to Kilmarnock to meet another and transfer to another car. We arrived in plenty time to register and it was great to see so many familiar faces. I really feel like I've been missing out on so much this year by missing the group training runs on the WHW.

At 5 to six we shuffled up to the start line and were sent on our way at six. As ever, I had mixed feeling about the first stretch of the WHW from Milngavie to Drymen. I've run it so many times in training in previous years I'm really bored with it but in the early hours on the morning in the company of your fellow runners, it's actually a great place to be. My legs were feeling good and the temperature was just perfect. I knew I was going a bit too fast but I've never been a great one for planning ahead. I get lost in the moment and at that moment I was just enjoying running at that speed and in that company. I knew I'd probably pay later but I was running for fun, not for a specific finishing time.

I reached Drymen in 1:59, rather faster than I'd intended and the forest roads up to the base of Conic hill dragged on somewhat. Somehow, once my feet hit Conic hill though, the change in pace or footing seems to rejuvenate me and I had a reasonably good pull up the hill. As I often do on that stretch, I could hear a real cuckoo off in the woods to the north of Conic Hill. Murdo McEwan was on the hill to cheer us on and his quiet enthusiasm and encouragement helped me on my way.

I'd decided to run in my road shoes and I really didn't have any problem coming off of Conic hill in them. Sometimes I feel that trail shoes actually make you stumble more in long races as the studs are apt to catch on roots etc. if you aren't lifting your feet much.

The contents of my first drop bag were soon scoffed down (the efficiency of the marshals at producing the appropriate bag for each runner was amazing) and I headed off to Rowardennan.

By now, my lack of long runs was beginning to tell and as so many runners found on the day, this stretch was a bit of a low point. I suspect it's at this point that most of us are switching over from glycogen burning to fat metabolism. Fitter, better trained runners probably make this switch sooner and more gradually. I think for more ordinary mortals, it takes a bit of a hypoglycaemic "scare" to persuade our bodies to start burning fat.

Whatever the explanation, by the time I was approaching Rowardennan, my energy levels were picking back up. I have to admit to having had rather a lot of negative thoughts during that stretch, questioning my sanity several times.

Another drop bag was raided and it was on to Inversnaid. I'm not a great fan of the forest track on the first part of that run and once it got on to the roller coaster trail section, I was much happier. Its short swoops and climbs seem to suit tired legs much better than level slogs and I really enjoyed this section.

My enjoyment lasted until well beyond Inversnaid but eventually, as always for me, the novelty of the scrambling wears off and I just wanted to get to Beinglas Farm.

Despite the problems the marshals had had at Beinglas, my drop bag was quickly found and I picked through the contents trying to work out just what I wanted. It's never easy trying to get the nutrition right and I probably ate too much. I know that I ate a lot more than last year (when I was a lot faster) but I was a lot fitter last year so it's not a fair comparison.

After Beinglas it's the "home stretch". I've run this stretch so many times in training but I just couldn't remember how far it was on race day. The brain just wasn't functioning. By now my legs were pretty much shot and my run/walk ratio was slipping from 50/50 to 60/40 to 70/30. I just so badly wanted to get to Tyndrum and for it all to be over. The balls of my feet were really burning now and I was convinced that I was developing some impressive blisters and this made progress increasingly painful. (An illusion it turned out. They were tender for several days post race but no blisters)

Despite this, as Tyndrum neared, the anticipation and adrenaline helped to "raise the dead" and I managed a bit more running than walking in the closing miles. At long last the last gate before the river crossing hove into view and Silke relayed my number to the finish. It was lovely to see such a familiar & friendly face after so many hours of pain! (Not that all the marshals weren't friendly. This really is the "friendly race")

A final sprint and I was across the finish line. A medal, a goody bag and a bottle of Coors were thrust into my hands but what I really wanted was a chair! Fortunately there was one near at hand and I gratefully luxuriated in the joys of sitting after twelve hours and forty minutes of running/walking. Not a brilliant time but the best I could have achieved on the day I suspect.

If I'm honest, I didn't really enjoy my Coors (not my kind of beer) but somehow, it seemed the thing to do so I necked it down.

Unfortunately I couldn't stay for the after race festivities but if I honest, I was only fit for two functions post race, collapsing and drinking so I wouldn't have been one of those on the dance floor. ;-) Next year however I'll do my damnedest to be there.

It's now over a week since the race and I've enjoyed every minute of being involved with the organisation and working with Murdo & Ellen. It's been exciting (and a little nerve racking to see how quickly the event has grown) but Murdo & Ellen seem to rise to all the challenges and just keep making this event better and better. Their enthusiasm seems to bring out the best in everybody and it shows.

The marshals were brilliant and the race finish deserves special mention. The flags, the arch, the crowds all combined to make a fitting end to the race.

Three cheers to Murdo, Ellen, the marshals, all the backroom folk and all the great runners who make this such a brilliant event.

Cheers!