Great Scottish Run 2013

Chip Time: 01:54:28  Position: 3754

The Great Scottish Run has to be one of my favourite half marathons in Scotland. It may not have the shortbread tin views that many of the rural races do, but what it lacks in scenery, it compensates for with atmosphere and character. It's not everyday that swathes of Glasgow city center are cordoned off just to allow you out for a carefree, traffic free run. (The opportunity to run over a temporarily pedestrianised Kingston Bridge is fantastic!) I'd previously completed this race back in 2011 in a time of 01:59:53, however the course route changed this year, so unfortunately I am unable to directly compare this year's time with that one.

Glasgow will always hold a fond place in my heart. Having spent four years drinking studying there in the mid nineties and a few more working, I know the city well and we have been through a lot of great times (and a few hard ones) together. Some of both I can even remember. So the chance to go back again for a weekend (with the added excuse of undertaking a healthy pursuit) was irresistible to me. We booked a family room in the Novotel on Pitt Street just along from the Strathclyde Police HQ (around the corner from an old favourite drinking haunt of mine.. Nice 'n' Sleazy.)

The Novotel is a good hotel. I have very few complaints about it. The staff are friendly and very accommodating, the food is good, the underground car park is handy and the gym, sauna and steam room are also very welcoming. On this visit the running machines were of particular interest to my partner, Clare. She is in training for her first 5K and was keen to use them on both nights we stayed. (Although she claims she's not born to run and that I have just gradually worn her down, I don't believe a word of it! I can see the medal envy in her eyes and I know she just can't wait to get her hands on her first one.) My only complaint with our stay, which certainly couldn't be held against the hotel,  was the incessant car alarm which went off for about four hours through our first night. It kept my children awake and therefore us awake until the early hours. I'm sure I was not the only person that night, who fantasised about smashing that car up before setting it on fire, whilst it's owner looked on in horror.

These days I usually eat healthily before a race, but after heading down to the dining room for breakfast and gawping in awe at the fine selection of items on offer, I opted for three mugs of strong coffee and a full Scottish breakfast. I can hear the "Tut! Tuts!" of so many disapproving runners, but hey, I'm happy and still alive at the time of writing. Besides, I pride myself at doing things the hard way.

The Great Scottish Run starts in George Square, in the heart of the city. The runners are separated into starting areas by the colour on their race numbers (which correspond with their expected finish times.) My estimated time of completion meant that I started in Cochrane St. (approx. 150m from the chip timed start line). As I consider myself an amateur (or even a non-runner), it is always exciting to know that I am running a race in which truly great athletes are competing in. (I can always tell my grand-children that I ran in the same race against Haile Gebrselassie.)

Having the support of my family at the start and end of a race means a lot to me. Unfortunately this is not always possible as pre-registration for events often starts very early in the morning, miles away from home, whilst my young children are sound asleep. So having them with me in Glasgow was a great bonus. Clare hung around with the children as long as she could until the proposed start of the race, but as it was delayed and I had to go and stand in a crowd, she wisely decided to take them off to Hamley's toyshop in the St. Enoch centre (As opposed to playing Where's Wally to find me waiting amongst the other runners.) In the photo below, my son Jack (always the ladies man), seems to have just spotted a group of extremely pretty ladies who were running for Macmillan Cancer Support. :-)

The first mile of this urban race takes you up St. Vincent Street and over the brow of the hill, past King Tut's Wah Wah Hut and the former Britoil building. There I had previously spent two miserable interesting years working for a popular mutual assurance company in their pensions department (before it was purchased by a large Spanish banking group.) From this point the route crosses Charing Cross past Tay House which is part of the Bridge To Nowhere. (Ironically that nickname sums up my feelings for the place when I worked there for Barclays Bank as a night shift data inputter during my student days.) Memories (some repressed, some very funny) came flooding back as I ran past these once foreboding financial institutions.

The second mile of this race sees you cross the Kingston Bridge and the third takes you onto Paisley Road West. The route is designed so that for the two miles you are running down Paisley Road West toward Bellahouston Park, you see faster runners heading up the other side to turn toward Pacific Quay at around mile eight. Somehow I managed to completely miss the first water station. (I blame Lemmy Kilmister, who was blasting out his very own take on Rock n Roll on my mp3 player.) The only reason I know of it's existence is the amount of discarded water bottles I noticed just after I passed it.

After a circuit of Bellahouston Park and the return trip back along Paisley Road West, the route takes you over the Clyde Arc (AKA the Squinty Bridge), up Stobcross Road (passing iconic sites and structures such as the Finnieston Crane, the Clyde Auditorium and then around the Riverside Museum.) After this, miles ten, eleven and twelve double back eastwards, heading down Pointhouse Rd., Lancefield and Anderson Quays, then onto Clyde Street for mile thirteen, through the McLennan Arch to the long awaited finish on Glasgow Green. 

As I was still recovering from the Inverness Marathon the previous weekend, I was satisfied to complete this race in 01:54:28. Although Haile Gebrselassie won't be quaking in his boots, I am happy with my time and of course another medal to add to the collection.

Loch Ness Marathon 2013

Chip Time: 04:09:19  Position: 1309/2702

After running a Tough Mudder, three half marathons and various 10ks in the past five weeks, my body seems to have relented and stopped nagging me with pain over the Achilles Tendinitis I have been suffering from. As the day of the Loch Ness Marathon finally arrived, I couldn't be happier to have hope that I may be able to run it without suffering excruciating pain with every step.

My knowledge of medical science has always been quite limited to say the least. In fact it is very much like The Numskulls who used to appear in the Beano comic. Little people who live inside the body and operate it with levers. They do their best to look after it and limit the damage despite all the gruelling punishment my mind has in store. Although they don't always get their way, I know they try and I usually appreciate that. However, the Numskull who had been poking the inside of my ankle with sharp needles every step I ran had finally relented and sodded off to do something more rewarding. The relief was incredible.

As usual the logistics were difficult. We left it a bit late to book family accommodation in Inverness, so opted for a room in the Premier Inn in Elgin. This meant having to add a 45 minute drive to Inverness onto an already early start. The marathon bus departed Inverness at 7:30. So after spending an almost sleepless night in a hotel room which my children had already began to transform into a scene from Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, I awoke to a lukewarm shower and to find the cream scone I had been saving had already been eaten by a hungry little mouth. This was devastating as the hotel didn't start serving breakfast until 7am. Not the best start to the day.

After arriving at Brught Park and parking the car, I made my way to the coach pickup point, joined the endless toilet queue and popped an Ibuprofen. I generally don't take pain killers at all, usually believing that pain is there for a reason, but as I was about to run 26.2 miles fearing that my Achilles pain could return with a vengeance at any moment and that the tendon might even snap, I felt I had little choice.

I grabbed a seat at the back of a coach and was soon joined by a couple of guys who struck up conversation about my Tough Mudder t-shirt. They had completed it too. (This became a bit of a theme for the day, in fact it seems everyone I spoke to was a Mudder.) Loch Ness was their first marathon and they were excited about doing it in around 3:30. Having planned to do my first marathon in sub 4 hours in 2009 and failing dramatically, I recalled that feeling all too well. I'm planning on telling that tale one day if anyone is interested in hearing it.

Soon after arriving at the start, somewhere North East of Fort Augustus on the South side of the Loch, I was interviewed by a German journalist for Runner's World magazine. He asked me everything from what I tell my children about the Loch Ness monster through to what motivational quotes go through my head when I usually hit my own personal wall around mile 18. Without thinking, I told him "Winston Churchill - If you're going through hell, keep going!" Not so sure my interview will be published after that faux pas.

I was expecting to have to run a good few miles for the endorphins to kick in and ease any remaining pain in my heel, but was surprised to find that the first mile was painless, in fact I am writing this two days later and although I'm still struggling to walk I have no Achilles pain. The first six miles of Loch Ness are a gradual descent and passed easily. I'd created a feel good playlist specifically for this race and the miles I covered reached double figures pretty quickly and with relative ease. Miles 10 to 17 are undulating but not too troublesome, but having ran this race back in 2011 I knew what was coming when I reached Dores at mile 18. A two mile hill climb!

As well as hydrating at every water station along the route, I'd also filled my pockets with various jellies and gels I had been handed. Whilst I had eaten some nice ones earlier in the race, I made the mistake of eating a couple of chocolate gels at the bottom of the hill. They were absolutely disgusting and made me want to vomit. The sickly chocolate mixed with phlegm to create a disgusting brown mucus that I spent the next few miles coughing back up. Once over the hill around mile 23, I met one of the first time marathoners I had met on the bus. He had crashed at mile 20 and started to walk. I ran-walked with him for a couple of miles before we reached the final leg.

At mile 25 my stomach started to cramp badly due to the energy gels and jellies I had been guzzling along the route. I'd never used these before and am not sure if I will again! (At least not in that quantity or chocolate flavoured). I had reduced my pace to a fast walk when a fellow runner came up behind me and put his arm on my shoulder to offer encouragement. When you're going through pain together, sometimes the realisation that a fellow runner understands and cares enough to put their hand out to you is enough to get you up and running again.

Whoever designed the last mile of this race must have been a great admirer of the Marquis de Sade. Whilst there is a perfectly good footbridge which takes you straight across to Brught Park, you are forced to run past this (for what at this point seems like eternity), over the main road bridge, doubling back on yourself across the river down to the finish. One of my work colleagues, Sharon, was waiting at the beginning of mile 26 to cheer on her husband who was also enduring the same hell as me. A cheer from her inspired me to pick up pace and keep going. At this point, a fellow runner also commented that he had seen me at every race he had done this year. Seems I'm running every other race he has planned too. The thought that I hadn't missed any raised my spirits.

As I approached the finish, I put on a sprint and completed the marathon in a chip time of 04:09:19 (almost vomiting as I crossed the line). I picked up my medal, t-shirt and goodie bag. My partner (and running widow) Clare, was waiting there to greet me with my children and as usual my daughter took great pride in wearing my medal. It's moments like this that make all the torment so worthwhile.

We spent the following day in recovery mode, eating cake and drinking coffee whilst wandering around the Findhorn Foundation. One of the things I love about running these races is getting out and seeing places I would never normally have any other reason or excuse to visit.