Balmullo Mud Wallow

I was pretty nervous about the final race of the fife midweek series. I had not run the route before but had found it on Garmin Connect and it was quite clearly more a hill race than a trail race. The first 2.5 miles were pretty much all up, with the route climbing to the top of Lucklaw Hill. Still, I like running downhill...

I drove over with Andrew and after entering we went for an early warm up. After the dynamic I was feeling a bit foggy so took my blood sugar levels and was horrified to find it was low. Not a good place to be before the race had even started... I rummaged in the boot for the old box of Viper that had been there for several months and added three scoops to the one already in my bottle. I won't pretend that it tasted good at that concentration.

My fears seemed well-founded as, over the first half mile, more and more people overtook me. Then the Viper kicked in and I picked up my pace. The grass sections had suffered from the recent high rainfall and had disappeared under inches of mud. Where there wasn't mud there was standing water. I began to enjoy myself. The final section of ascent after a stretch across a cow field was through shrubs to the summit. I felt great at the top with Fife spread out below. My concentration on the descent was good and I pushed hard. Getting back up the mud slide was pretty tough, and grasping a bunch of stinging nettles for leverage was unwise.

My blood sugar high ran out with about three quarters of a mile to go but I could see the farm buildings that heralded the finish line and focused on catching and passing whoever was one place ahead. I think I took three places. Finally the only person still feasibly catchable was Amie and I pressed on and on but she was running really well and despite going all out she finished two seconds ahead of me. I pulled up, suddenly fearful of the worsening tunnel vision. I got my keys off Ron, unable to understand what he said to me, and headed back to the car. I filled up on sugar but before I came fully to my senses I decided to get changed in the car park. I blame Andrew for not sending me to the changing room! I recovered pretty quickly and headed into the hall for the prize giving. I came fifth in the race, which was enough to secure second overall in the series. I got a really smart, engraved medal in a presentation case.

Hill race or not, this is a fantastic course. Loved it :)

Chariots of Fire and the Twisted Chicken

I have emerged from the Tour feeling a little bit battered. Like I've run a marathon, only with a whole load of emotional turmoil thrown in. I finished the fourth leg in tears, my blood sugar levels trailing in the surf. Before we even made it to the turning point (mud flats and a deep sea marker post) my blood sugar had plummeted. The tunnel vision was setting in and the urge to stop and lie down and make the world quit spinning was gnawing at me like a starved hyena.

I staggered home, against the odds, and Dan, perhaps spotting my inability to walk in a straight line, procured lucozade from a Dundee Hawkhill Harrier. I plodded back towards the car and was stopped along the way by Jocelyn, who taught me how to run downhill a couple of years ago (suicidally), and whose happy chickens lay the best eggs in Fife. The other good thing (eggs aside) to come out of the race was the news that my club mate, Alison, had finished in first in that stage. She had been in second in every race to that point.

The final race was the twisted chicken run. I assumed that it would follow a similar course to 2009. I was wrong. Instead of the long flat cycle path the 5 mile route involved a frickin huge climb. The start was uphill, which my legs apparently decided was frankly silly, then there was a brief descent before another 2 miles of climbing. I got annoyed at being overtaken by a girl who I knew hadn't run the whole tour but enjoyed seeing the front end of the race (around 50 runners, mostly male, were ahead of me) going in the opposite direction. I hadn't been with-it enough to to see them the previous night. I also saw the strained faces of the hundred runners behind me. Wherever you are in the Tour of Fife it hurts and you give your all.

I sprinted downhill, knowing that the brief climb before the final descent was going to hurt because of the pace of the descent. My primary aim at this point, given that there was absolutely nothing left in my legs, was to not be beaten by anyone in fancy dress. There was a honeymooning couple (he was wearing a suit!) who weren't a threat but there was also the female contingent of Corstorphine who had donned neon tutus. This fear carried me up that final climb and forced me to run as hard as I could to the finish. I am happy to say that the only (female) runners ahead of me were Julia, Alison, Gillian and Louise (I'm not including the girl who had taken a mid-week break).

Last time I ran the Tour of Fife I managed a top twenty finish. This year I finished fifth. Not too bad.

Tour of Fife: Up Hell TT

Having realised how bad I was at ascending I really wasn't looking forward to the uphill time trial. In 2009 I ran it in 14.59. Ideally I wanted to knock a minute of that.

In the car Ron told me that my plan to start fast and slow when it got tougher was dumb. Well he didn't exactly say dumb, more laughed. Loudly. So, despite the fact that my nearest rival was starting 30 seconds behind me, I set off steadily. As I feared / expected, Louise caught me. She caught me far sooner than I expected. Still, I was mentally prepared for this. I picked up my pace and stuck with her. As we reached the slightly less steep section I pushed myself well and truly into the red and got away. I stayed in the red, driven by fear and determination. The lactic acid building in my legs was nearly unbearable. I came over all Jens Voight: 'SHUT UP LEGS!!'.

With 800 metres to go I felt like my lungs were being crushed. Unfortunately yelling at your lungs is counterproductive... The cheering at the finish carried me over the line. I was doubled up and gasping. It felt like hell. But it had only been 13 minutes and 35 seconds of hell. Nearly a minute and a half faster than last time, over 2.25km (600ft ascent).

Ten minutes later, I felt fantastic. Awash with endorphins and not depleted after the short but intense effort. Perhaps next year I can look forward to this stage! I went for a warm down across the hill top. The evening light danced across the rolling vista, utterly spellbinding.

Two top coaches and the devil...

I settled into the back of Ron's car with a Maximuscle protein shake and a sense of satisfaction.

Tour of Fife: Tarvit Trail Race

Photo of Fife AC's Tour Team by David Smith

Although I had started out hoping for a top five finish, being fourth was horribly frustrating. I had about a minute to make up... and Louise was only a handful of seconds behind me.

I had settled a little and was able to absorb some of the atmosphere, I sipped at my bottle of Maximuscle Viper topping up my blood sugar levels. I found a map, tried to figure it out, then jogged around to the finish. I clocked the sharp rise of the road, the ninety degree turn and the beautiful, although softish, croquet lawn. The runners at the start were calmer, teasing, but also looking around for their newly discovered rivals. I, for example, knew that to get into third I had to overtake and maintain a lead over Gillian. I also knew that I had to stay ahead of, or very close to, Louise.

The route was three laps mostly through woods. Each lap included a couple of sharp uphills followed by a steep descent which allowed me to catch Louise - who had got away on the ups - and pull away. The second lap told me two things: one I wasn't going to catch Gillian, and two, I needed a decent cushion for fourth place before we headed to the Lomonds for the Up Hell TT where I wouldn't get any descent to make up for my poor climbing. No polka dot jersey for me... I enjoyed the second half of the second lap but ran scared into the third, knowing I could lose time on the hills again. By this point I was running with two Fife AC men: Laurie and Dave. They passed me on the ups (a familiar story by now!) and moved aside to let the flying, semi-controlled Tiny Runner pass on the downs. They got ahead on the road and I galloped along behind them through the field. In the woods I was sent on ahead by my Fife chaperones (Dave caught me again by the end). I pushed hard on the final drag, knowing that once I got to the corner it was flat. The finish was fabulous: on the lawn in front of the Tarvit mansion house. I downed a bottle of Maximuscle Viper then caught up with Rambo (canine).

I got to meet Horatio Henderson (above from roadrunpics), whose photo I saw on Mary's blog. He is as handsome and lovely as I had envisaged, but also pretty licky. His mum, Amanda, won last year's tour.

Tour of Fife: Black Hill

When I ran the Tour in 2009 I finished in the top 20. This year I was hoping for top five. I hadn't banked on quite so many hills.

The Tour kicked off with the Black Hill race. It would be 'undulating'. Excellent, undulating I could manage.

A medium sized herd of horses and ponies watched over the start.

The start was a dusty scrabble as racers vied for position, overall and amongst their categories, male/female and also vets.

There were five or six women towards the front of the senior female race over the first half mile before the first two, Alison and Julia, pulled well clear. Behind them Gillian, Louise and I. The three of us stayed within sight of each other as we turned into the forest. As we began the ascent - and 'undulating' turned out to mean 1,329 feet of ascending - Gillian and Lou overtook me. I could just about keep up with Louise. As the climb rose, then levelled, then climbed again, Louise and I repeatedly swapped position, Louise was ahead on the ups and I would catch up and pull away on the levels. I struggled, horribly, over the summit and set off downhill; I opted for my favourite semi-controlled falling/sprinting. Passing people (all men unfortunately) on the descent involved running through nettles and scratchy shrubbery. Fun :)

I held my position after emerging out of the forest and back along the undulating (yes, really) track to the final hard uphill pull to the finish.

4.94 miles, 36 minutes, 12 second, 4th woman

Photos: top Road Run Pics, second, Paul Roarty.

Jens Voigt not required: Newburgh 4.2M

Coming so close to the half marathon and the night after training I wasn't expecting to enjoy this race. My legs were stiff with delayed onset muscle soreness and my mind full of memories of just how much Dundee hurt. Jens Voigt (well the Jens Voigt soundboard) filled my mind: not the helpful 'shut up body' but 'oooh this is going to hurt'.

I arrived at Newburgh an hour before the start. Little sailing boats skimmed the surface of the Tay as the evening sunshine sharpened the colours of the water as it split behind the boats. I love evenings like that, when it has rained all day but the sun has broken through in the evening allowing everyone to get out and do the things that make life good: cycling, sailing, running, stuff.

My legs were stiff but my head was happy. At sign on I met Graham who was racing just a matter of months after heart surgery. Humbling.

I found an area of soggy grass for a jog, watched by two local children who later enthusiastically joined in with the dynamic warm up.

Despite announcing that I was going to run easy I found myself eyeing up the competition. Alison, obviously, but she was out of reach. There was also a sleek, tall Perth Road Runner who looked fast.

On the start line Andy and I squabbled over who was going behind who (we both thought the other should be nearer the front) and then we were off. I went off quite fast, remembering that once we left the road the path became too narrow for overtaking. This obviously meant that on the narrow path I was towed along faster than I had planned. As we reached the section of road the Perth Road Runner came by me so I pressed hard to keep up. So much for taking it easy. She was strong on the road but slowed when we turned off onto a boggy track. I overtook through a puddle, loving my Inov8s, and pushed myself to accelerate away. A safe distance acquired I settled down and began to enjoy myself.

When the path turned onto the undulating stretch before the incline I concentrated on staying relaxed, shortening my stride on the ups and lengthening on the downs. The incline wasn't as steep as I remembered and the summit came quickly complete with two horses watching the entertainment. The final stretch by the river was narrow and heavily impinged by butterbur with the occasional nettle. Running in single file I was unable to see where the third female was. As we emerged onto the final stretch before the finish I looked back but couldn't see beyond the runners right behind me. A helpful Fife spectator told me 'it's all men!'. Good news. I crossed the line happy, muddy and in second place. My time was 29.29. A PB by 5 minutes.

I eschewed the famous Fife AC cakes, opting for the Maximuscle protein shake and banana I'd bought with me, but enjoyed a cup of tea.

Fantastic evening.

Dundee Half Marathon

My Garmin stopped working at 7.17am this morning. I made breakfast but couldn't stomach it. The road to the finish (where I was leaving my car) was closed. Otherwise everything was looking good since the promised lightning storms had switched to warm sunshine.

Ben, Julia and I abandoned my car near the finish then drove in Ben's car up to the start at Camperdown Park. Once signed on I began my warm up. Lots of Fife vests and Neil in girl's shorts again.

The race started uphill, around two miles of climbing through trees on wet earth, I was knocked into a puddle and scratched by something, probably a scratchy plant. Emerging from the trees and looking forward to the descent I found instead a steep descent and a headwind. I had moved up to second in the forest and pulled myself into first (female) on the descent. I had no idea what the pace was so just kept running at a pace that hurt. On the flat, through the surprisingly picturesque meadows along the green cycle route, I felt good. When a woman passed me I tucked in behind to shelter from the wind. The pace was really comfortable and I began to enjoy myself. A sharp swift rise out of the park and I felt suddenly weak and like I really, really wanted to pull up. I took a gel and tried to drink from a plastic cup at the second water station, having taken the cup on the run I was disappointed to discover only about 2 cm of water left in the bottom.

Another woman overtook me and it occurred to me that I could stop and walk, and wait for Ben. Then I thought of the Jens Voigt* Soundboard: 'shut up legs', 'shut up body'. A nagging stitch was shouted down with an internal Voigt monologue.

The route then took a strange 300m diversion up and down the same stretch of road and I realised that the first five women were all within a minute of each other. Half of me thought 'great I can still get them' the other half considered the more probable possibility that the ones behind would get me.

At this point Bill Smith a Fife AC athlete who was waiting for another Fifer ran with me for a few hundred metres, picked up my pace and sent me on my way. This worked quite well, but for some reason running uphill into a headwind along the side of a dual carriageway is strangely disillusioning for me and I slowed down again. Sometime later, having collected John, Bill caught me and encouraged me to join his pack. I tucked in behind them. By now I was in fourth. I switched off my brain and followed the boys.

Bill tried to talk me into catching the woman in third but every time I raised my game she did the same, remaining some 200-400m out of reach. John, in an act of tremendous generosity told Bill to go ahead with me and run me in. By now I felt horrendous, very hot and lightheaded. Bill gave me exactly what I needed: short, clear instructions and points of information. Even in my befuzzled state though I cottoned on to the fact that the 'half mile' he promised was nearer 1K. He told me where to run and when the route was about to turn.

I squeezed the gap down to about 50-60m but just couldn't close it before the line. I crossed the line and hit the deck. The world spun around me. Graham appeared between me and the clouds and then a paramedic joined him. I did my best to explain to the latter that I was fine, just dehydrated but still got taken to the ambulance. Even with a bottle of water in me my blood pressure was apparently 'very, very low'.

Looking for Ben I found Neil who had had a much worse day than me. He was in second place until a few metres from the line when he was struck by a paralysing stitch and finished fourth.

I got a prize, which is the easiest route to a happy Tiny Runner, but I still felt frustrated by my performance.

*Jens Voigt is a brilliantly funny and likeable elite cyclist, currently cycling the Tour de France

Soundboard

Photo from Roadrunpics.com

Shell Bay Sandy Slither: setting the goals on shifting sands

6.1 miles of sand, trail, steps and sea. Mostly sand and mostly wet. This was my first attempt at this race, and quite possibly my last.

Having been off of running with shin splints it seemed quite a good idea to do a race on a soft surface, however I don't have as much leg strength as I would like, so found the heavy sand and the tough climb to the cliff top really hard work.

At the start it looked as though the weather would hold so, having discussed clothing options (and boys, obviously) on the longish warm up with Amie, I decided to pin my number on my bra top rather than my Fife vest.

The race set off from Lower Largo at a smart pace before bunching at the gateway onto the first beach. The sun was still out and strong on our backs, the wind in our faces. I tried to keep up with Amie but she was running too well and my new focus became getting some distance between myself and Rhona (another Fife AC runner). This was tough work on the sand, especially as the guys I was running with kept knocking me off the firmer sand. I'm pretty sure it wasn't on purpose, they were just using the same elbow power on me as on the guys and I was about 50 lbs lighter... Before long the men had pulled away and I was running alone into the wind. I made up some ground over the short trail section before losing it again on the next beech. By the time we reached the climb to the cliff top my blood sugar was running low and my legs were heavy with lactic acid.

Rhona overtook me on the way up and I overtook her on the way down - thanks in part to my fabulous inov8s which allowed me to run down the wet grass without falling. On the final beach Rhona was running behind me thus sheltering from the wind, trusting in my relatively fast finish I steadied up to force the issue and she passed me. We were level 600m out when we got to the pipe. I made it over easily enough but when I hit the unexpectedly deep sea water on the other side the sudden stop sent me head over heels and under the icy water. I was completely submerged. I came up gasping, spluttering seawater and shivering. My body then refused to move. It was like one of those dreams where you are trying to run from something and you try and try but your body feels like it's encased in concrete.

There was about 600m of soft sand between me and the finish line when the rain began to crash down. I had salt water in my eyes, ears and lungs and a body that was using the waterlogged ears as an excuse not to listen. I felt more like stopping than I ever have in a marathon but I staggered to the end.

Rhona tried to shake hands but as she took mine I winced and pulled away discovering in that moment the cut to my palm. Rhona had blood streaking down the back of her thigh. I had cut my knee and turned 1 sock red. Looking around I saw most people were bleeding, having fallen on the cliff top descent or the seaweed covered rocks.

Amie and I went for a warm down (more a warm up at this point) before heading to Ron's car for dry clothes. I was cross with myself for slowing up on the final beach, an act which, because of the fall, cost me second place. Ron told me to learn from it and move on. Mum said exactly the same thing when we spoke on Skype at the weekend.

It seems strange to be dissatisfied with third place, especially when the two runners ahead are good runners. This time last year I wouldn't even have dreamt of getting placed. Now I've come third three times in a row: at the Chariots 5K, the Hill of Tarvit and the Sandy Slither.

I am forever moving the goal posts.

On the way back we talked with Ron about next year's London Marathon. Once more the goal posts disappeared over the horizon... Just how close can I get to a sub-three hour marathon?

More to the point, having just fallen in the north sea and struggled to complete a 6 mile beach race, I had set my goals once more on shifting sands...

It is probably too late now for the Tour de Fife (sorry, I've caught le tour bug again (go Cavendish!)) but between then and now I'm upping my protein intake with Promax and increasing the strength training in a desperate bid to gain some strength for the hills... I haven't shifted the goals for that one - I just want to do better than I have before ;)

Wedding on a bike and espresso books

The most overhyped day of the decade dawned bright and chilly. I toasted the morning with coffee and Viper before heading up to the gym.

The obsession with the royal wedding in the press and on television very nearly ruined the whole thing for me as by the time the day finally came around I was fed up of hearing about it. Living in St Andrews 'where they first met' the overload has not simply teetered on the edge of being too much, it has dived in and rummaged around in the depths of vomit-inducing commercialism. The shops have been smothering themselves in anything related to William and Kate for weeks.

Years from now, if asked where I watched the royal wedding I will say (truthfully) that I watched it on a bike in a gym in St Andrews. I then went for a swim in a completely empty pool (empty of people, not water). Although I found the month-long buildup distasteful, I will admit that once the presenters stopped interviewing people with the most tenuous connections to the either Kate or William, I was quite moved by the ceremony. It was the first time we were allowed to react to any part of the event without being told what to think and feel. I thought it shockingly inappropriate, for example, for the BBC presenter to point out that William and Harry were walking under the same arch through which they followed their mother's coffin. Why say that?

After my gym and swim I went into the office to pick up some books, including my new 'espresso book'. I wouldn't have known that that was what it was if the Universal Short Title Catalogue project team hadn't had a visit from Robert Darnton, director of the Harvard University Library last summer. The book is a facsimile of Harvard Library's copy of Imprimeurs Parisiens, libraires, fondeurs de caractères et correcteurs d'imprimerie by Philippe Renouard. It was, originally, printed in Paris in 1898. This means it is out of copyright. It has taken the mass digitialisation of out of copyright books to make print on demand books affordable. Indeed 'espresso book machines' have now found their way into libraries and book shops across America. It is a revolution in the history (and future) of the book but I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it.

I sat in the garden with an espresso and my espresso book until the urge to run crept under the edges of my concentration. I normally like to run away, out of town, but I wanted to pick up tickets for the a cappella concert and absorb some of the festival atmosphere in town. I looped through the town centre before heading, briefly out onto West Sands and home. Ron's training plan lists runs by time, rather than length, so I just enjoyed running around in the sunshine, not thinking too much about distance or pace.

In the evening Becka, Kati and I went to the a cappella concert in St Salvator's quad (the site of the town's wedding breakfast). The fantastic arts faculty band, Dry Island Buffalo Jump were on top form as were The Other Guys who became an internet phenomenon with 'Royal Romance' (almost half a million views on YouTube at the time of writing). Their version of Gangsters' Paradise (Golfers' Paradise) was witty and well performed but the highlight was the performance of 'Royal Romance' with a life-size cardboard cutout of the royal couple (which blew over in the wind).

Despite my reservations I had a wonderful day.

St Andrews 5K

Delayed post, from 21st April...

Last night was the first race of the Fife AC midweek series.

I've never really enjoyed the St Andrews 5K, but I've also never felt so awful during and after the race as I did this year.

I warmed up enthusiastically and felt good for the first 100m, then the heavy-legged feeling set it, I stumbled in the few yards of sand leading to the sports fields, and felt the lactic acid seeping into my quads. This all within the first half mile.

Running a race, however short, just over a week after a marathon is never going to be pretty...

I opted for zoning out and just keeping going. My breathing was ragged, not in an asthmatic way, but in an overweight person climbing stairs kind of way. I plodded through the first two laps and then talked myself into one more loop. I don't actually have any recollection of the final half mile or so but it may have blurred with the memories of the previous laps.

Over the line, half out of the finish chute, I tried to stop the world from swaying. I felt like I was on a boat. I knew I needed sugar and eventually made it over to my bottle of Viper. Dan called over a Fife AC athlete from Kirkcaldy, who was also a GP. He pointed out I was hyperventilating and encouraged me to drink. He also told me that the muscle breakdown during a marathon releases an enzyme into the blood which takes about three weeks to clear.

Steven, who'd had a great run considering recent (and long-running) injury problems, took me back to the pavillion and I gradually recovered over sweet tea.

With the midweek series it's not really possible to catch up on points if you miss a race. So, even though the race was pretty terrible, I still got my attendance points and some for coming 8th (woman, 51st overall). 20.09 is, technically, a PB but I covered the first 5K of the Cupar 5 in 19.26... I was a bit disappointed and am hoping that the proximity of the marathon explains it :(