Petestack Blog

48 today (surely some mistake!), an overdue spell of lovely autumn weather and Stob Dubh (‘the other one’) was calling as the only local summit of stature (Munros, Tops, Corbetts etc.) I’d never visited. So off I drove down Glen Etive (a favourite bit of single track because of its generally good lines of sight), just about found a parking space with the not-very-November hordes presumably all up Ben Starav (met just one pair of walkers on Stob Dubh) and was rewarded by the uncompromising b*st*rd of a West Coast hill run I’d pick for a birthday treat. And that’s really all I’ve got to say, except that a GPS track not quite touching point 757 (the kind of pointless ‘summit’ I just have to take in, but didn’t quite) and descending prematurely from a virtual twin of Beinn Ceitlein (fortunately not a ‘counting’ top) is undeniable evidence of 1. the consequences of ignoring/misreading your map in good visibility and 2. the changing middle-aged vision that means I’m starting to struggle with small print and spot heights with my contacts in! ;-)

Nothing auspicious about my preparation for today’s 2011 Ben Nevis Race, with a half-marathon PW on Coll two weeks ago, a niggly right knee that briefly exploded into something far worse above Glen Coe last Sunday and a raging cold that had me feeling like sh*t Monday/Tuesday and still coughing (albeit not painfully) today. But I managed to get running again Wednesday/Thursday with a knee support (not something that normally tempts me in training for fear of masking further problems), resolved to do likewise today and ultimately suffered more from other factors than the knee…

Have always been frustrated by getting trapped in walking ‘snakes’ (very difficult to pass in places) on the ascent, so tried to hit the road harder up to Achintee to get further up the queues, but afraid I’m just not fast enough on the road to make much difference there! So got stuck in the snakes (with a few attempts to muscle my way round) from the aluminium bridges to the Red Burn, from the Red Burn to the summit and much of the way back down to the grassy bank, occasionally hearing myself cry out loud ‘come on, folks!’ but largely finding myself forced to settle for the prevailing pace. Frustrating, but probably more like the difference between the 2:15 PW I recorded and (say) 2:12 than 2:15 and the sub-2:00 I’ve so coveted but am realistically unlikely ever to run now!

Some other quick points of interest to finish up what I’m trying to keep as a quick post with none of the agonising over wording that frequently has me spending far too long on the writing…

• A comically well-timed meeting with Anne MacRae from school as she emerged from the top of Heart Attack Hill (above the Youth Hostel) to watch at the exact moment I ran past on the way up.
• A surprise attack of hellish cramp in both thighs immediately after reentering Claggan Park with just half a circuit of the pitch (during which about five folk sauntered past) to run to the finish.
• Meetings with fellow WHW Race ‘family’ Davie Bell, Bob Allison (‘fresh’ from completing UTMB in difficult conditions last weekend) and Dirk Verbiest, although I never saw Iain Ridgway (who should have finished about half an hour ahead of me) and there may have been other ‘family’ members competing who I’ve missed.

So it was a PW (2:15:15 by my watch, although that could go a second or two either way on the official results), but not a disaster when most would still consider that a very respectable time. How much I want to go on banging my head off a brick wall is another matter (not making any decisions yet), but I’m certainly not wanting to keep going back for slower and slower races and think I might have to reset my sights on 2:05 as a tough but attainable target (when I’ve twice run 2:08s) to tempt myself back!

Think I got what I deserved here when I was barely on the rebound from three ultras this summer, can’t say I treat road running seriously at the best of times (preferring to run hills and trails with little formal speed work) and found myself inexplicably battering the ‘last-minute self-destruct eating button’ on Thursday and Friday, but Coll is Coll, the Half-Marathon’s a great excuse to go back and I was committed long before doing my best to sabotage my own already fairly unpromising prospects. So I was up at 4:00am on Saturday to meet Eileen and Donald in Oban for the 7:00am ferry as planned, arriving on the island to clearing skies later that morning after a bumpy, grey crossing which did nothing to make me feel any better. Just about survived the race, however, completing the last 11 miles with a churning gut and recording my worst time yet at 1:42:14 (previous worst 1:41:29 at Coll 2008) for 19th place from 107. But it’s a tough, tough course (hardest half I’ve ever done) and, considering how my general distaste for ‘road’ running (in quotes because you also get a nice, slow track through the machair from Totronald to Ballyhaugh here) impacts my training, I’m pretty OK with that. And Donald did well in his first serious race at any distance (?) to record 1:46:24 for 29th place, so he’s buzzing!

Not really much else to say except that my £10 ceilidh ticket never got used as my stomach told me to head for my tent instead, so missed all the fun with friends old and new including Zoe Newsam (ex-Fly crew) and Ian Anderson (WHW Race ‘family’). But must add that the name of my grandpa Glover (‘doctor on this island for fourteen years’) had already worked its customary magic in introducing us to Ewen McGee, who promptly produced a photo of my aunt Eppie (Eileen and Donald’s mother) on a small boat to Tiree donkeys’ years ago! So we were talking long before leaving the island about coming back next year (which will be the first with the new An Cridhe community centre open), I was checking the web to find the results already up on getting home last night, saw that entries for 2012 were also already open, thought (despite my general distaste for ‘road’ running) ‘go on, just do it’ and was astonished to find another two names (no, not Eileen and Donald… yet!) up beside my own this morning. So that’s that, of course I love Coll and will now just have to see if the fortnight’s gap after the Devil o’ the Highlands (which I’ve been stupid enough to enter as well) works for or against me in taking me to my (presumed) best mean, lean shape (no last-minute self-destruction, right?) that close without leaving me too wasted to buck the trend of my ever slower halves!

(Photos from Donald’s phone by Eileen and Donald.)

While my original, post-WHW Race plans for this ‘summer’ included a possible crack at the Rigby Round (think Cairngorms equivalent of the Ramsay), that’s been looking fairly improbable since early November, when No Fuss Events received my entry (the very first, to show support for a great new local event!) for ’10 in the Glen’ (yesterday, 16 July) instead… with this multiple circular tour of Glen Nevis being a running version of their popular mountain biking ’10′ events (soloists or relay pairs, trios or quads trying to complete the most laps of a loop course within the 10-hour time limit) and my interest inevitably piqued by tackling this inaugural event the hard way (ie alone)!

Now, it was wet (at times very, very wet), which was probably fine for those taking part in the simultaneous/neighbouring Glen Nevis River Race, but certainly impacted underfoot conditions with swollen burns, plenty of mud and a technical, rooty downhill section to negotiate every time round. So I managed 10 laps (recording just over 53 miles and 5,800 ft of ascent) of a course falling some way short of 10km since they took the top corner off what they’d originally planned, but should also point out that, being allowed to count the lap you’re on at the 10-hour limit so long as you make it back in under 11 (see one poor guy sprinting for the line to be timed out by 2 minutes!), it actually took me just over 10:15 to do that. Which (while not crowing about it too much when the field for this inaugural running wasn’t that big and the event deserves to grow beyond the point where I’m a potential prizewinner) was good enough for third place in the male solo category and what’s probably my first athletics prize since receiving a yellow plastic Concorde with pencil sharpeners for engines for second place in the sack race in Primary 2!

So what else can I say? Well, of course most soloists are going to get lapped now and again by most relay teams and I don’t think I’ve ever been overtaken by so many of my fellow Lochaber AC runners in my life (not least Susan-Jane Ross, who somehow managed to pass me three times on what felt like consecutive laps when she was running one lap in three as part of a trio which only did two laps more than me)! Also had a bad spell in the middle with tightening calves and (despite regular food and drink) a hungry/dizzy half-lap that left me struggling desperately up the final incline of the fire road and unable to trust my spacial awareness descending that technical, rooty trail, so huge thanks to Donnie and Marie Meldrum for pasta etc. and some wondrous oil that rejuvenated those calves enough to get me going again for my final few laps. Congratulations to all winners and participants alike… sorry I don’t have everyone’s names but the winning pair managed 14 laps (!) and my solo class (won by Jim Meehan) might have been decided on time with the first three all completing 10? Which all seems ample justification for raiding the Co-op for beer and pizza on the way home… not, perhaps, for daily consumption when I’ve already put on weight over the four weeks since the WHW Race, but not exactly going to kill me when I’ve just run 53 miles and got my first athletics prize for 41 years to celebrate! :-)

Prizegiving photo by Donnie Meldrum…

Not many gear reviews on this blog so far, but afraid this is one I just have to write. And, while I wish it related to a positive experience, I’m afraid the reverse is true with a tale of initial satisfaction followed by such disappointment, frustration and ultimate letdown that I’ve resolved not to buy from the manufacturer concerned again…

So I needed a top quality lightweight waterproof top for hill running/adventure racing, spent my usual hours and days conducting exhaustive online research and concluded that the OMM Cypher smock looked perfect for my needs. So I bought one (at the end of March), tried it out briefly in April and was impressed enough to write this:

which finally got christened on Cam Chreag after spending most of the day in my sack and looks like a great lightweight shell top. Quite snug (but not tight) in a ‘large’ size (specified for height 5’10″ to 6’2″ and chest up to 43″ when I’m 5’11″ and would normally buy 42″ for 40″ chest), with a nice ‘drop tail’ and truly excellent hood which somehow manages to provide good protection while overcoming my normal dislike of hoods as making me feel ‘blinkered’.

But then it remained unused for a month with April’s increasingly arid course (only sustained dry spell of the year so far up here!) leaving little need for a top quality lightweight waterproof top until the normally pleasant month of May started drowning under increasingly biblical downpours. And here it really started to show its worth, with a delighted user on the point of telling everyone how good it was until (just seven outings into its life with a maximum of 16 hours’ wear) suddenly discovering it wasn’t nearly robust enough (see photos) for a careful user who’d been treating it with kid gloves because it was new and he loved it…

So it got discussed with/sent back to the supplier, who sent it back to the manufacturer, who (instead of the requested refund) simply returned it to me via the supplier with a letter stating that, despite the ‘inner scrim’ and ‘outer rip-stop material’ being damaged, the ‘laminate shows no damage’… and continuing to ‘suggest that the condition of the jacket is due to something the wearer has subjected it to’ (his further suggestion of ‘a trouser buckle with a prominent prong and under a rucksack harness’ being completely unfair).

Now, while I’d already conceded the possibility of a rucksack (made by OMM!) being involved, this smock had never been near a trouser belt or buckle in its life as my subsequent email to the manufacturer (name of supplier removed) will show:

Peter Duggan wrote (2011-06-11 12:03):
> Tried to ring you yesterday to discuss my Cypher Smock recently returned
> to ********, but was told you were in a meeting, said I had to get back
> to work myself and understood you’d try to ring me back after 4:00pm.
> Would still like (far prefer!) to discuss this with you by phone but,
> given that it may not be easy for either of us to catch you during
> working hours, covering my main points here first (starting with the
> history of the garment’s usage emailed to **** at ********, which I
> hope you’ve already seen)…
>
> Peter Duggan wrote (2011-05-23 22:10):
>> It was ordered from you on 27 March 2011 (for the Highlander Mountain
>> Marathon in April, but not used there in fine weather), tested once
>> briefly on 2 April then not used again till 10 May. Since then it’s been
>> used another six times (four of them in conjunction with an almost empty
>> OMM Adventure Light 20 sack) for trail/hill running in this wet May
>> weather, totaling max. 16 hours wear, so not washed yet but simply hung
>> up to dry after each run.
>>
>> The delamination (photographs attached) to the front panel was
>> discovered yesterday and assumed to be fresh because I’d have noticed it
>> before. While it has occurred to me that this could be in the area of
>> the rucksack belt, both smock and sack are of OMM manufacture, intended
>> to be used together for adventure racing etc. and there are no
>> comparable marks in the areas of shoulder or sternum straps.
>
> So, to comment on your letter to **** re. the damage, which I received
> on Friday with the returned smock, you say that the ‘laminate shows no
> damage’ and this may well be true depending on how you define laminate.
> But I’m sure you can see why I’ve called it laminate when what we’ve got
> is essentially a puckered-up outer ripstop layer separating from some
> kind of inner layer whether or not this constitutes the core eVent
> laminate in technical terms.
>
> Might also point out that I’d already acknowledged the possibility of a
> rucksack belt being involved (see my quoted remarks above), but here I
> must take issue with your suggestion of a ‘trouser buckle with a
> prominent prong’ to state categorically that:
>
> 1. The smock has never been worn over any belt or such buckle, but only
> with lightweight running gear, all having drawstring or elasticated
> waists with the sole exception of my Montane Atomic DT pants (ironically
> bought from ******** at the same time) which have two *tiny* spring
> toggles on the waist cord.
>
> 2. The only sack that’s ever been carried with it is my OMM Adventure
> Light 20, and that always almost empty (carried mainly as somewhere to
> put smock/leggings when not worn + single 500ml bottle and some snacks),
> so never really weighted or ‘loading’ the hip belt area.
>
> To which I’d like to add the following more detailed breakdown of its
> history to amplify my brief description above and clarify how little
> it’s been worn along with *both* Montane pants (if you’re looking for
> anything that could even possibly have caused rubbing damage) and OMM sack:
> ———————————————————————-
> Ordered 27 March 2011 (for the Highlander Mountain Marathon in April,
> but not used there in fine weather).
>
> Tested once briefly (max. half hour, with OMM Adventure Light 20 sack +
> drawstring leggings) on 2 April then not used again till 10 May.
>
> Used another six times since then:
> 1. To Blackwater Dam, c.1:50, with Montane pants but no sack.
> 2. WHW to Lairigmor ruin, 11 May, c.1:38 but not worn continuously, no
> sack, can’t remember what leggings (drawstring or elastic).
> 3. Creach Bheinn, 12 May, 2:22, with OMM sack + Montane pants.
> 4. Glencoe Ski Centre/Bridge of Orchy, 15 May, 3:29 but not worn
> continuously, with OMM sack + Montane pants (not worn continuously either).
> 5. Lairig Mor, 20 May, 2:21 but not worn continuously, with OMM sack but
> other (elasticated waist) leggings.
> 6. Glencoe Ski Centre, 21 May, 4:03, with OMM sack + Montane pants.
>
> NB The ‘max. 16 hours wear’ previously quoted is allowing for periods on
> these runs carried but not worn.
> ———————————————————————-
> Now, given everything said above, I’m sure you can see why I’m surprised
> by both the damage itself and the fact that no-one else appears to have
> reported similar problems. Because from my perspective I appear to have
> bought an expensive top that can’t be worn with a natural partner sack
> from the same manufacturer and/or apparently appropriate partner
> leggings from another when nobody’s said, ‘careful… don’t wear your
> OMM Cypher Smock with anything else because it will damage it’ (please,
> I’m being serious here!). So **** tells me she’s never had any OMM
> products returned before and I’m surprised to hear that given my
> experience with this smock, but thought it was genuinely in your
> interests to hear/see what’s happened to this one and disappointed to
> see your letter apparently blaming me for the damage when I’d at least
> be concerned by my story if I was the manufacturer. To wrap this up (for
> now, because I still very much hope to discuss it with you by phone),
> **** tells me it’s a fabulous product (I thought so too!) but I’ve had
> to tell her that in this case you now have one very disappointed
> customer with 100% dissatisfaction with this particular product.

Anyway, to cut a long story short, after several attempts to contact the company director by phone, I finally caught up with him when I was off work with the inflamed tendon sheath in mid-June and had quite a long and civil chat during which he stressed the integrity of his company, restated that my smock had been the only one returned with this problem, said he wasn’t blaming me despite the suggestion of ‘something the wearer has subjected it to’, offered to sell me another for a reduced price (an offer I first turned down, then turned down again after asking what price he had in mind) and finally conceded that he’d be willing to exchange it if examination by a local supplier concluded that faulty materials or workmanship were to blame. And this, with nothing to lose after otherwise getting nowhere, I accepted… except that he didn’t phone back to confirm as promised and I had to email him days later only to be told (after his apologies for that) that he’d talked to them, ‘felt that it was putting then in an unfair position to act as referee when they were there to provide a broader service to you’ and was suggesting another independent referee in Lancashire. At which point, with ‘hiding to nothing’ springing to mind at the thought of sending the thing at my expense to another unsuspecting third party, I’ve finally decided enough is enough when any local shop would simply have replaced it and OMM could surely afford to do so, am just relating the whole story here instead, will be emailing him to tell him so and doubt I’ll ever buy another OMM product (pity, because I like that wee rucksack and thought I liked this smock). Whether or not you do is up to you, but that’s all I’ve got to say here.

 eventually get hold of the assistant manager, the manager was not in
the shop.  Having discussed the issue with him I felt that it was putting
then in an unfair position to act as referee when they were there to provide
a broader service to you.

So… with a week already slipping by since the big race to mull things over and post-mortems apparently all the rage (well, John Kynaston’s got two big blog posts of them!), I thought I’d try one too. But there’s really not that much to say apart from the one thing I was reluctant to highlight too strongly before, with me now thinking my performance was impacted (and possibly significantly) by the cold/infection I picked up the week before the race and still haven’t fully shaken off yet. So my failure to sustain my easy pace for longer, quite severe Ba Bridge/Glen Nevis nosebleeds (not things that normally afflict my running) and continuing blocked(ish) nose/rough throat this week all point to a compromised performance and I don’t think it’s clutching at straws to say so. How much it was affected is harder to say, but instinct tells me that, having maintained 5mph average on a much hotter day last year to round about Inveroran/Forest Lodge before fading with dying quads, I should have been able to sustain 12-minute miling in conditions that suited me better (and off a more measured start) to Glencoe or even Kinlochleven this time round. For sure, the splits will show me to have run more evenly than most with an almost unwavering 12-minute pace to Inversnaid and my race time of 20:44:26 equating to a 13:06 average over the full course… but Inversnaid is barely half the distance I should have been able to keep up my starting pace and, between you, me and the internet, I thought (despite my public target remaining sub-20) I was going to duck under 19:30 (there, I’ve told you all now)!

So perhaps I should be considering another go if I was ‘robbed’? But no… because, while staking all those months of effort on peaking for a specific day to see it so compromised by random chance might be the way of competitive athletes the world over, I’m afraid it’s just not terribly appealing to me and if anything strengthens my resolve not to keep coming back and banging my head off a potential brick wall. And, while I should maybe have gone much faster this year, it’s only numbers in the end and I’ve already found the acceptance over 2010/11 to deal with that. So let’s just leave it there for now, with a wee footnote to add that, after a lazy week when I’ve been resting the inflamed tendon (probably not, in only really flaring up Sunday/Monday, a significant factor in my performance) and eating too much, I’m starting to get out again with a walk over the school cross-country course (c.2 miles) yesterday to check for storm damage and 20-mile cycle (= low impact with the tendon still not quite fit for running over rough ground) round the Loch this afternoon. :-)

Another West Highland Way Race (my third and last as a competitor!), another mixed experience and another style of report to set alongside 2007′s dual-perspective runner’s/support crew narratives and 2010′s bullet-point summary…

Now, this was the race that wasn’t supposed to be (with 2010 my sole serious attempt to go sub-20 hours) but allowed to happen on the assumption (maybe presumption!) that I could still run sub-20, was going to and basically had to to justify the obsessional effort and sustained sacrifice (not much climbing done this winter after juggling WHW training with WML preparation!) required to get there. So why am I apparently happy with a new (5 min) PB of 20:44:26 when I should be gutted to miss the big target and the effort that’s gone into this year’s marginal improvement doesn’t even begin to compute?

Well (for a start), it doesn’t have to ‘compute’. So it might have been (was!) obsessional and sustained enough to stop me doing much else and might even have cost (at a quick guestimate) an hour’s training per second improvement, but scoring it purely on those terms can only belittle so many independently worthwhile days and evenings (things that bring me alive regardless of ‘purpose’) spent on hill and trail. What’s more, it’s the absurdity of this training/improvement ratio that ultimately brings (rather than denies) satisfaction with the achievement and the acceptance (knowing I’m still wide of the mark despite my best shape and strategy ever) that was still eluding me after last year’s race. You might think me defeatist for conceding an element of wishful thinking and abandoning the quest now but, with three finishes from three starts (2007, 2010 and 2011, and each quicker than the last), Saturday’s race completed in pretty good shape (no blistered soles, trashed quads/hams etc.) bar the tibialis anterior tendon sheath inflammation (nope, I hadn’t heard of it either!) that’s kept me off work for the first time on a post-race Monday (+ Tuesday!) and no evidence whatsoever to suggest I’m capable of going much faster, it’s time to call it a day as a competitor in this race.

So what about this ‘best shape and strategy ever’? Taking the shape as read (best training/taper, most miles and fewest niggles, with only last week’s cold really messing things up at all) and concentrating on the strategy, my even-paced 12-minute miling (no partying on the hills!) was spot-on in taking me a long way on fresh legs and proving that I’d learned not to spoil previous steady starts with the kind of romps over Conic Hill and up Loch Lomondside that bite back 50 miles later. Might add that, in also managing to follow another of my golden rules (don’t sit down… and I never did!) from start to finish, it was never my legs that were the problem (with only the increasing discomfort at the base of my right shin a concern) when they’ve more often than not been the limiting factor before. Since it wasn’t my heart or lungs (neither of which were ever stressed) either, that pretty well just leaves my head and stomach, and here’s where things start getting more difficult to assess. You’d think your head should be able to keep pushing you along fine when legs, heart and lungs all seem to be going well, but it’s just not that simple. So I wasn’t surprised to drop off the 12-minute pace for a bit north of Inversnaid with the most tortuous section of the course made slow and slippery by conditions otherwise suiting me much better than the 2011 Fling/2010 WHW heat, but more at a loss to explain why I couldn’t get back on it through Beinglas and beyond (Angus sounded so disappointed when I phoned him my time) when experience told me I should have been able to maintain it most of the way. But sometimes you just can’t maintain voluntary control of your head… you might think ‘mind over matter’ and all that and assume that finding the pace many hours later to cover the final 3.5 miles down Glen Nevis in just over half an hour equates to holding back too much earlier, but take note of Matt Fitzgerald’s words in Brain Training for Runners, where he says ‘the fact that exercise fatigue is brain-centered rather than muscle-based does not make it any less real or any more surmountable by willpower.’ So it’s not necessarily a sign of mental weakness to find yourself struggling (as I did) to maintain 13- to 14-minute miles when you’re convinced you should be doing 12s and yet be able to pull those 7s, 8s and 9s out of the bag with the end in sight (Fitzgerald’s ‘end spurt phenomenon’). As for my stomach, ultra hydration/nutrition is never easy but, with Angus’s records showing me to have been maintaining as steady an input as reasonable, some occasional inability to keep taking more on is no more or less than you’d expect… although whether I could forgive anyone but my brother, three-times support crew and companion on many, many adventures for feeding me hot Accelerade some 60 or 70 miles up the course is another matter!

Some bad patches to report where at one point I’d (delusionally!) seen myself serenely 12-minute miling up the course without any, but nothing especially grim by ultra standards with one slight ‘can’t eat or drink’ queasy spell somewhere I can’t quite remember and a series of minor mishaps (spontaneously bleeding nose, falling asleep on my feet after a mere 20 minutes’ in-car kip since Friday morning and a tortuously slow walking climb from Ba Bridge) between Forest Lodge and Glencoe about the worst of it. Some moments shared with friends whose plans were unfolding with varying degrees of success including Keith Hughes (on his way to a PB) early on, Gav McKinlay at Beinglas (surprised to catch him there, but happy to see him finishing strongly later) and John Kynaston not much further north (in a bright green top and about to become embroiled in a unpredictably prolonged battle to the finish). Then a surprisingly tired-looking Mike Raffan, who caught me again later in time to start playing leapfrog (along with Neil Rutherford) through Glencoe Ski Centre and Kings House, and a succession of encounters up to and through the Lairig Mor with Ross Moreland (‘no, Ross, I’m not showboating on home ground when I should be going much faster and I don’t care if I get beaten by a ginger!’), Ali Bryan-Jones and Drew Sheffield… with Ali and Drew nearly paying the price (quote, ‘there’s some guy catching us up’) for waltzing past in my own backyard when a mere 50 seconds separated the three of us at the end (not to mention Craig Stewart, who I don’t remember seeing, just another 119 seconds ahead of Drew) after my second- or third-wind, bringing-back-the-nosebleed, Glen Nevis sprint!

So what’s left after all that? The usual inadequate but heartfelt thanks to my indispensible support crew of Angus, Jon (who finally got to join me at Lundavra after being told I was still too fast at Kinloch!) and Eileen, and same to the whole race team and everybody involved. Congrats to Richie and Jan-Albert for the sharp-end battle that once again left me four hours adrift at the final checkpoint, to Thomas for his stunning PB in 4th place and to Kate, Sharon and Debs for a ladies’ battle of equal class. So perhaps I might have hoped to beat all the girls till I heard Kate was running, but now also concede Sharon (who by all accounts gave Kate the fright/fight of her life) and Debs (who told me at the start she was going to whip my ass… and did!) to have been out of my league (PS you’re a warrior, Debs). As for me, think things went well enough even if we could argue that I was found wanting in the end… it’s so easy to say you’re targeting sub-20 (or whatever), it’s non-negotiable and nothing else will do, but so hard to actually go get it. And hard to be sorry when I managed to salvage both sub-21 and the PB with that kick all the way down Glen Nevis (what a buzz that was)… not to mention the small bonus of later realising that I’d got (just) within 5 hours of Jez’s record! So I’m done with competing in this race and comfortable with that where I wasn’t last time. But of course there are other things to go for… not sure they’ll necessarily be racing when I’m wanting to get back to climbing, sailing (incuding yacht racing, yes!), the big hill rounds and running for the sheer joy of it rather than because I have to (please, I’m just a guy who likes running!), but we’ll see.

All photos © Angus Duggan

Too many ‘what if’s in this all-your-eggs-in-one-basket, big-ultra game! So you’ve trained sensibly but (necessarily) obsessively for seven months to hit your best ultra shape ever and tapered conscientiously to be strong and fresh for the big day. But what if, you jokingly muse, it all goes belly-up through factors outwith your control? What if the whole thing’s called off at the last minute (as nearly happened to my first WHW Race in 2007) for flash-flooding danger? What if the roads are blocked (as happens quite regularly on our single-carriageway trunk roads) and the race team/support crews can’t get through? What if you pick up some nasty chest infection through constantly working with children who don’t stay at home when they’re ill? What if you find yourself at the doctor’s on the Tuesday of race week looking at an upper respiratory tract infection? Oh, wait… now where was I at 9:15am this morning?

So I’d initially put Friday’s headache down to dehydration from the D of E exped over Wednesday/Thursday and run on Thursday evening and just drunk some more. Likewise Saturday’s dizzy turn on Beinn Mhic Chasgaig to under-fueling and just ate some more. Hoped I could simply put other symptoms down to runners’ hypochondria but, knowing things actually felt a bit rougher than that yesterday and this morning, was lucky to get a very prompt appointment with one of our resident miracle workers… who asks about the symptoms, checks my ears, temperature, pulse, blood pressure, throat (bit raw), lymph nodes (bit tender, but that shows my immune system’s working), breathing (listening all over my front and back) and tells me yes, it’s real (not just psychosomatic) but no, I’m probably not needing a miracle because I’m likely over the worst of it already, should have ample time to recover for Saturday but to come back Thursday if still not right. Not advising antibiotics just now because my chest’s absolutely clear, there’s nothing gooey (my own sanitised term!) for them to attack and they could be counter-productive in terms of side effects, but to keep hydrated and take Paracetamol (my Lemsip Max will do fine) because it’s got some other useful property (I forget what) beyond pain-killing. Also agreed that my suggestion of ditching tonight and tomorrow’s last little tapering runs might be a good one, but of course I was feeling better this evening, did my last little hill run and think I’m still likely to do tomorrow morning’s planned last little jog round the village. So am I playing with fire here? Hmmm, maybe, dunno, don’t think so but, if I am, I’m a big boy now and hopefully experienced enough to play with fire… on which note Saturday’s race plan remains a real slow burner in attempting to maintain close to even pace at something like 12-minute miling for as long as possible, which I’m expecting to see me well down the field through Balmaha, Rowardennan, Inversnaid and maybe even Beinglas before hopefully taking me through to a top-20 finish. So stuff the respiratory tract, hope (as seems increasingly likely) we get weather that lets me run the way I like and bring it on!

Tapering for a big effort can be so hard to judge, being theoretically simple but practically affected by other (external/immutable) factors. So how do you score that two-day D of E expedition (Wednesday/Thursday) from Corrour to Kinloch in a ‘tapering’ context, being low-intensity but significant time-on-feet when tapering should maybe be more about maintaining the intensity and reducing the volume? (The answer after some thought in my case being to almost dismiss the c.18 miles of walking involved and head back out after a couple of hours’ break for a proper wee 7.9-mile burn up to Tigh-na-sleubhaich and back in the hope of salvaging about 30 of the 35–40 miles of running I’d have had down for this week without the exped… although whether the trade-off should be scored on quite those terms is anyone’s guess!)

Fancied a short but interesting hill run today to keep on track for said 30-mile target, and that’s exactly what I got this afternoon with a 6.7 mile/2,600 ft traverse of Beinn Mhic Chasgaig in Glen Etive (a proper west coast hill where last weekend’s trip to Ben Wyvis was more akin to a run through a 3,000 ft high ‘park’!). So I crossed the single-plank bridge at the bottom of the Allt Coire Ghiubhasan and turned from one gorge to another to follow the bouldery gully of Coire Aiteil before taking the northerly ridge off for the stunning prospect of Stob Dearg ahead, but ultimately couldn’t give that much attention to the view as I found myself having to pick my dizzily undernourished way down with some care (not to mention craving for the banana I’d left in the van for my return)! Happy with the taper, however (need 5 or 6 miles tomorrow then another big mileage cut to a 15–20 mile ‘week’ with some rest over the final few days), feeling strong (maybe in the best shape I’ve ever been for this kind of thing) and hoping everything’s coming together just right for something special in Saturday’s 95-mile monster…