Pain
You’re lying there, on the futon in the campervan, on your back. You need to get up. It feels like the futon is sucking your legs into it and they won’t move. You roll on to your tummy and manage to bend your legs to get onto your all fours. Ok how do I get up from this position now? Oh my, I love this pain, it’s been so long! Now maybe reach up to the shelf up the top and pull myself up? Nah, I’ll pull the blooming thing down on top of me. Ok gentle moves, reach over and push up on the shelf at the side. Half way up now, woohoo J. Bugger, my ankles won’t bend! I feel like James Caan in the Misery movie, Kathy Bates must have turned up and bashed my legs to bits. Ok hands on the side of van and slowly stand up. Phew, now in the upright position so now what? Standing on the futon, not a stable surface and ankles not bending, hobble like a penguin onto the flat surface, ouch ouch creakity creak. Did I mention that I love this self-inflicted pain?
I don’t fancy doing a blog dissecting the race into chunks, I did that last year so I might just keep writing bits and bobs about the actual journey. I might stick it in bullet point format. Everyone likes bullet points surely?
Debrief with no Moaning
I haven’t raced for a while and although I did the test event for this last year, it felt different. As in multiply the field out there by 17.2! I have to say that the company throughout the whole adventure was top class. My running has taken a bit of a back seat again this year but I won’t moan about losing my mum, George’s knee op, working extra hours all this year or taxi driver for kids part time job a fair few nights a week or bloody race organising which sucks the life and energy out of you or having a permanent distinct lack of energy and a fair few other excuses I could throw in but as I said, I won’t moan. And I’m not into saying, oh look at me, I hardly did any miles and I’m so hardcore for rumbling up to the start line cause that’s just stupid. I’ve got plenty miles in my legs and a heck of a lot of muscle memory and the runs I have done have been quality instead of quantity. So there J.
Much cheapness
Before I get into the bullet points of the adventure I’d just like to stick my hand up and say I must be the cheapest runner that was on the route. If anyone was cheaper, give me a shout and I’ll pass that smug privilege to you instead.
Cheap Runners Kit Bullet Points
• My £26.99 NB110 trainers (my Paul Giblins)
• £16.49 Trespass back pack (basically a fake fitted vest bag type thingy)
• £2.50 Aldi running socks
• £5 pack of 3 seam free Tesco pants (£1.6666666 then as I only ran with one pair on)
• £0 for shorts as they were my cycling shorts with detachable cycle pad taken out
• £0 for waterproof gilet as George gave me his as it’s too tight for him (fatboy)
• £0 for whw top as it was free (earned), £0 for pink top as it was a birthday pressie, £7.49 X 2 for other 2 tops from Trespass outlet. Long sleeve from Adidas outlet £15
Cheap Runners Foodstuffs
• £1.50 for 6 pots of 25p each custard and fruit
• £1 for 6 babybel
• £3 for 6 assorted bottle/cans of juice from B & M
• 99p for a 6 pack of quavers
• £2 for a 6 pack of M & S salted popcorn
• £2 for 2 bars of Mrs Tilly’s fudge from Asda
Pre-race Prep
Nana nap during the day, drive to park up in Perth, get picked up by George, head to Fort Bill, hit Wetherspoons for fish and chips and a crabbies, be mildly grumpy which meant I must have been taken the race seriously, register then a 2 hour 45 min nana nap to midnight. Sorted.
Pre-race Warm Up
This involved a discussion with the menopause club about the menopause oddly enough! And a sprint behind a tree for a wee twice in the last 5 mins before race start. I always remember my mum’s saying of “go before you go”.
THE RACE
• Ran
• Paced Antonia to a perfect speed whilst discussing snot and snot rockets and how men aren’t really 20% faster than women in general, it’s just that they can pee quicker. Once I had COACHED her to the perfect speed, I then let her run freeeeeee……………..
•Bodyguard for spooky fairy forest. Luckily it’s too dark to see anything but you know they are right there in touching distance!
• First view of the loch. One of those “wish you were here” postcard type of shots
• Motion sickness chattage with some of my running club ladies (ha, I’m in a running club that’s not small, it’s just far far away). Then it was find a tree for one of the running club ladies for a you know what. I’ll be discreet throughout my bullet pointing to not mention any names throughout in case I incriminate, embarrass or offend J
• Headtorch off J, bliss
• Cloud inversions, dark pink skies
• Eating a small something every half hour
• Selfie with my run club ladies
• Poo break
• Going through that, I fuckking love this ultra-running stuff, I love everyone and the route and it’s awesome!
• Having a wee cry for a few miles just about the time I felt my phone vibrate and it was a txt from Sanrda J
▪ A fair few times I heard someone running behind me with a different footfall to me. On turning round, no one was there
• Chatting with folk I hadn’t met before, chatting with folk I do know but having the time for a catch up
• The switchbacks and having a sadistic chuckle for folk who hadn’t looked at the race profile
• Extreme thirst at mile 45 ish and realising checkpoint was about 54 miles so not drinking too much water whilst inwardly chanting “please Mark & Helen, be at the 50 mile point again like last year with water and cola and words of encouragement. AND THEY WERE!
• Meeting Mike Trails
• Drumnadrochit. Felt fired up coming into here, seen my boy, had a half can of stella, plodded on out of the town on that long long road and then kept pushing on as much as I could
• Folks weird chaffing stories (not mentioning names)
• Mantra from 65 miles “fly fatburd fly”, shouted loudly
• Lorna and Carol waving a wine bottle at me at the last water stop. Having a wee bit of wine, asking the time as my garmin had conked. Realised if I finished the last section in under 2 hours then I would have a PB
• Ran
• Passed some folk, 2 of the Irish boys sprinted past me
• Got to the track at Bught park, seen a fence and tape and wondered if I had to log my own time of finishing! Then I see the finish over the other side of the track. Feck, bloody sprint finish!
▪ 46 min PB, 9th wifey in the race, I forgot it was a race
• Beer
• Shower
Afterwards
You’re lying there, on the futon in the campervan, on your back. You need to get up. It feels like the futon is sucking your legs into it and they won’t move. You roll on to your tummy and manage to bend your legs to get onto your all fours. Ok how do I get up from this position now? Oh my, I love this pain, it’s been so long! Now maybe reach up to the shelf up the top and pull myself up? Nah, I’ll pull the blooming thing down on top of me. Ok gentle moves, reach over and push up on the shelf at the side. Half way up now, boohoo J. Bugger, my ankles won’t bend! I feel like James Caan in the Misery movie, Kathy Bates must have turned up and bashed my legs to bits. Ok hands on the side of van and slowly stand up. Phew, now in the upright position so now what? Standing on the futon, not a stable surface and ankles not bending, hobble like a penguin onto the flat surface, ouch ouch creakity creak. Did I mention that I love this self inflicted pain?
Repeat above morning and night for 2 days before meals and avoid alcohol.
I *heart* self-inflicted ultra-running pain. I found my lost mojo.
