Fee's Tale...
Another race, another start line but a slightly different one this time. The ratio of male toilets to female ones and the lack of queues at the latter gave the first clue as to average competitor ,young, male and in a variety of bizarre fancy dress. The day, contrary to the forecast was clear and dry and so the organisers kindly decided to delay the start by ten minutes so we would all get to use our head torches properly. Liz checked her bum bag one more time and we were off hurtling towards the first obstacle...a wall of hay bales to climb over. Liz and I clambered over with hands held tight as there was a very real danger of getting split up. A handy shove from behind and we were over and off. A few minutes later we rounded a corner into a field and were funnelled into a series of three specially dug out pits full of mud just to get us in the mood. Clawing your way out of these with 1,200 or so other maniacs is not easy but hands still held we made it out together. No sign at all of Naomi or Garret and so began the first hill. Good job we practised up Dun na Cuiche (well it would have been it had been twice and a bit higher) as we toiled up in the longest queue I have ever been in, we were still smiling over the balance logs and up to the top of the hill. Then came the descent- ricocheting from tree to tree with head torches lit in the gloom. Our cries of “Liz..are you there?” “Where are you Fee?” haunted many people’s run from there on in as we tried to keep in touch. A fiercely undulating mountain bike track got the legs pounding nicely. One last plunge into the woods, more trees, more hands desperately outstretched to stop a too speedy descent, over a wire fence, under a net and almost into the arms of a bystander. Caught Liz ,the downhill Queen to cross the bridge together and onto the riverbank which was scarily pleasant. Mulling over the news that Liz gave me about being ¼ way through I felt somewhat troubled as we were already an hour into the run, this however turned out to be a joke (!) and we were ½ way through..easy! Round the next bend came a stony river crossing so once again hand in hand we plunged in gasping and exited onto the muddy bank to follow the soggy footsteps of our fellow nutters. The path then took us back into the river and up it for ¼ mile or so splashing and ,in my case falling heavily on one knee. Good job I had something nice and cold to hand to bathe it in... Liz was up and off and when I was out the calling resumed. Soon we were approaching the scree slope up the next hill, this we climbed almost entirely with hands grabbing forward to catch the heather (or on several occasions as we got higher the gorse bushes) and stones behind the person in fronts trainers. Apart from trying to go past those who caused their own special scree falls behind them it was a case of stay in line and I was losing Liz fast. The most amazing site ever was to look up and back at the mile or so long line of head torches steadily ascending. To keep us from getting too complacent there were more balance poles at the summit which I crossed holding hands with another woman as balance challenged as myself. Then the descent... grassy and open at first then into the trees again..Still no Liz. The banter was good though around me.
Marshal “Looking good Guys..keep going! well done Guys”
Me “..and girls!?”
Marshal “Yes, yes and Girls ..well done”
Voice from behind “and Romans!”
Marshal “Ohhhhhkay yes and Romans..well done!”
Slowed down by a marshals’ voice warning of a steep drop and the necessity to hold the ropes I obeyed going backwards hand over hand down a knotted rope (with a Roman swaying above me) abseil fashion 100ft or so wondering just how they got them to hold with so many on each rope..... then off and on...can see Liz! Can’t get past though....lots and lots of mud, along a bank of a burn and I am passing loads of people and feeling fine. Back across the river I fell into and out into the town where I finally caught up with my running buddy. Here some kind marshal told us enthusiastically that it was 1k to go..this was not true! Through the famous tunnel we went, still able to crack a joke or two, more streams, more muddy banks and a wee ladder over a dry stone wall, we can hear the tannoy and Liz is urging me on and calling me “Fiona” a bad sign. I lose her again at the last water crossing as two small children appeared to have attached themselves to both legs and were dragging me back (well, that is what it felt like). Desperately trying to catch up I make a bit of time on a small hill and am proud to still be running when so many others are not. Finally the floodlights and a tube to crawl through and I am behind Liz (antlers still intact) and then the cargo net and the finish line...Hmmm not that easy. I can’t get the net up and the marshal is shouting at me to crawl which I frankly thought unreasonable , at last out of the net and CRAMP in my left thigh. I hobbled in and dimly registered as I was removing my chip a 2.29 time. Then I got very, very COLD!!
LIz's race report.
I just love reading these race reports…………. not so good at composing…………. my Deer Stalker story starts with a change in family plans; my usual faithful support crew had got better things to do with their w/e than travel the 140 odd miles to the Borders, hang around in the freezing cold for a few hours with the highlight being an opportunity to steal contents of my goody bag at the end! ( My eldest put it quite plainly to me – “you just want to have a quick hug from us Mum and then you go off and talk to your running pals and forget about us!”)……….. So now I’m reaping what I sowed…….. A start line with no screaming Feeney’s ……… awwwwwwwwww. Instead I car shared with my faithful running buddy and despite roadworks and diversions round Helensburgh we made it to Peebles with a couple of hours to spare.
They wouldn’t have been able to see me anyhow as the madness was 1400 or so bodies; a mixture of warrior styled, wannabe stags, St Trinian’s meets Take the High Road, a fair reek of Deep Heat and . . . goose fat, heaving in a crazy mass for a 5.30pm start . . . only to be told the start will be delayed 10 minutes . . . arghhhhhhhh! Was a great day though – clear skies - certainly not the heavy downpours and winds that had originally been forecast. Clear skies = cold night – by 5.40pm the folk that were running in skimpy wee shorts and t shirts were starting to look decidedly underdressed. Me and my starter crew warmed up by snuggling in closer to the smelly neighbour stags (male/ female – no matter – you’re still called a stag!) . . .
Then we were off . . . Fee kept a good strong grip and dragged me over that first hurdle of bales before I knew it! Naomi dressed in Pink Tweed hat disappeared at that moment . . . as we dashed away from Traquair House stately behind us and did our best not to get lost in the pack – I was terrified I’d get trampled before I reached the bales - I was so relieved to get over that hurdle still alive and now the race was on! It was a short dash up and to our left and then we found ourselves out onto a back road . . . I couldn’t believe that minutes in to the run and there was lads (not so) discretely offloading some fluids by the bushes! Honestly! And I found out why goose fat less than 10mins after the start – we quickly dropped off the road and there was the first steep muddy slide of many as we hit the first “water feature”!!! (We had been warned at the start line that 5 intrepid runners in the earlier 5k had not tied their shoe laces tight enough and all had lost a shoe in this – one poor person losing both shoes!! – But amazingly all went on to complete the event minus their footwear! At that point the start line had dropped to half height as everyone knelt down and triple knotted their shoe laces!) Well that water feature was a brown heaving bog and no shoe was ever going to be found there – Fee and I looked at each other and launched ourselves in – techniques varied from breast stroke to full underwater (not deliberate) – accompanied by screeches and humps and pumphs! I think this was repeated 3 times – around 30 ft or so each one . . . And then it was pull yourself out and follow the gang up ahead as we started the climb to the first summit. 20mins or so in and my calves were SCREAMING! I remembered a certain Mid Argyll runner at the Dun a Quaich last year and thought I don’t want to over-cook this and end up with an injured calf muscle so begged to Fee that we walk to the next bush!
By this stage we were queuing behind many and so the route was punctuated by walk / run/ walk / run/ scrabble up a bank . . . maybe a 3rd of the way up this hill I noticed bike run signs saying Cresta Middle Run straight ahead . . . I looked left and could see Innerleithen stretching away out below us and the beautiful border hills in the low evening light . . . A female voice beside me remarked on how stunning the view was – I concurred looking past her – only to be jolted to reality by Fee pointing out how much the said young lady suited her ginger moustache and side boxers! It went well with her Tweed hat and breeches really . . .
Well the next 20 mins or so found me getting my proper wind and the ascent was well taxing but manageable as Fee and my hill training stood us in good stead . . . At a couple of points I thought we had “peaked” to find it was only a brief plateau followed by another steep climb, clambering over branches left from felled forestry and heather tussocks. It was a really uneven surface but interesting and constantly changing. We could see the faster runners moving back downhill in parallel with us and then near the top we queued to tackle our first wood balancing beams followed by some nice netting to crawl under. I was glad I was wearing my bike gloves now – saved my delicate hands! After this it gets blurry as we started a rapid descent – it was really steep in bits and with the number of runners already on it was well smoothed and slidey . . .my heart was in my mouth on numerous occasions as I “let go” and let my legs race on downwards intermittently braking by running up the side of the banked path lest I completely lose control! This was the Upper Cresta Run I think . . . whheeeeeeeee!
Then we moved off the main hill to descend towards Innnerleithen again, but before we got there, we were swung steeply left into deep darkness under the tree canopy – there was a series of wood stiles to be crossed and negotiated – breaking your flee downwards by grappling against well appointed fir trees – again “Thank goodness!” for me gloves! Fee and I were calling back and forth as we tried not to lose ourselves in the mass of other runners. We paired up again after I got a knee smack on the back of my head as I slid under the heavy net that stopped you from hitting the tarmac road 6feet or so below the muddy slide above – muddy, slide, descent, ascent – all punctuated by “steep” fairly describes this section. 60minutes or so . . . This was followed by really civilised section of level running along the banks of the Tweed – minutes earlier we had heard the bang of the firework signalling that leading stag had made the second summit – how fast must that guy have been going? (He must have cheated . . . ) The civilised bit is just to lull you into a nice wee dwam . . . Before you round a corner and there you go – another steep muddy grapple . . . this time – you flop into the Waters of Innerleithen ( I think that is what they were)- ARGHHHHHHHH! I’d say a good ¼ mile or so of wallowing in icy cold fastish flowing rocky bottomed river . . . Well suffice to say Fee and I became completely unhinged at this point . . . falling, slipping, sliding . . . Our paces changed – I looked and saw Fee fall but I couldn’t get back to her - I could feel the chill going deep to the bone and I was thinking I need to get out of this as fast as possible . . . I hit the deck myself minutes later and the sharp shock took my breath away – spectators out in the town were calling “Are you alright?” – Meanwhile the mad mêlée of runners just pushed their way by!! I found my footing and made fast as I could out the other end . . .
OK – only one more hill to do . . . As I had made the first descent I had looked over at this MOUNTAIN of rocky scree and asked a friendly looking runner where the path was to get to the top . . . He looked at me and laughed! “Path?? You’ve obviously not done this before . . . ?!” OK – as I clambered up the muddy slope I was bawling Fee’s name! I was panicking now- I had abandoned my buddy in that awful river . . . fortunately Fee’s distinctive plaits are remembered by many and so I was reassured that she hadn’t drowned and was following close behind. We regrouped and headed onwards and upwards. Well this was where we really climbed . . . head torches were mandatory by now . . . We traversed a boulder ridden lower plateau – this wasn’t the scree I was expecting . . . but it soon followed . . . I am so glad it was dark by now as I’m a coward with heights . . . Head down I felt loads of energy as I scaled up the hill side – the gradient was pretty major but the pace was dramatically reduced as the crowds of runners slowed to accommodate the narrow access up the hill – every now and again I would catch the tail of a confident fell runner (I assume that’s what they were) as they took a path way off to one side but travelled much faster and more fluently – I would choose to follow them for a while until we caught up with another slow bunched up group; the gorse bushes on either side curtailed the ascent as we had to bunch up together again to manage on up the hill. It was a gruelling climb – on hands and knees. The lights of those way up ahead and way down below was like a magic snake – it was completely surreal – not much words yet you were packed so close to the runners ahead and behind . . . I didn’t want to think about what would happen if an upper climber lost their footing and started a slide . . .STOP THINKING LIKE THAT NOW LIZ! There was couple of occasions I came across a climber ( that’s what we’d become) sitting looking back down the slope- wheezing loudly – neither owned up to feeling like they were having a heart attack but at least I felt like I’d done the right thing and not completely ignored them! Marshals were very thin on the ground throughout – although all were very encouraging . . . short straw for the poor guys that volunteered to do the hill tops!
Once at the top of this hill I knew I was “home” – I felt like I still had plenty energy in tank – (I had an unplanned plate of pasta at 3pm or so and think that was my saving grace.) I think I’d been out for 2 hrs now and knew I was bound to be reaching my low reserves. (Note to self – try energy gels before next long run! Have avoided these so far as never really been out long enough!) I know Fee was not far behind and so took it gently back down the slope – grassy but with the odd partially covered rock this time. I got out my spare head torch as my batteries were not as good as I thought in my main torch . . . I carried this in one hand to help illuminate the way. This point was a reasonably gentle lull, only again to be given a sharp short shock of another REALLY steep and this time VERY muddy descent – no bum sliding on this one though – there were ropes to hold on to and after a couple of scary moments I worked out that the safest way to do this was like abseiling ( Like I’ve done that before – not!! But I’ve watched it loads of time on the telly . . . easy peasy! ) SO glad again that I wore my gloves! So glad again that it was really dark now as I think I would have had vertigo if I’d been able to see the bottom from the top! Right! Well!
Its just another mad blur of mud/ slidy traverses/ more mud and then fording a burn / more mud/ tunnel with even colder deeper water ( “waist height” really depends on how tall you are!!) . It was so dark by now – the wee skinny moon long gone and people were now hitting the wall right left and centre – a friendly optimistic ( liar!) marshal happily congratulated us on doing so well and announced only another 1k to go. Well that was no bother I thought………. I upped my pace a bit and glanced at my watch reckoning I would confidently be home within 2 and a bit hours . . . Fee was groaning behind me – I knew she just needed a gentle push – and screamed “Fiona – come on! We can do this!” We passed a young lass weaving along the river bank – we both stopped and offered her support . . .jelly babies…………. But with tears in her eyes she shook her head and gestured us away . . . Well I thought, we’re only meters to home . . . HA, HA HA!! Another 10 -15 mins later we finally rounded up the tarmac path to the Glorious Traquair House and the sound of mikes booming at the Finish – I still had run left in me and continued to overtake many walkers spent . . . a really “nice” touch was the tunnel you had to crawl through followed by the commando crawl under the heavy net just before the finish line . . . Keeping my head down I accelerated through this – getting a foot in the face . . . nearly losing my antlers held on by my head torch . . . to scrabble back up and run across the finish line . . .
How was it?...................................AWESOME
Would I do it again?...................DEFINITELY
What would I do differently?.. CARRY A SPACE BLANKET
What would I recommend the organisers do differently?
HOT DRINK AT THE END . . .
Oh yes . . . Just as well my support team didn’t bother coming – they wouldn’t have been overtly impressed by the bottle of Highland Spring water that made up the Goody Bag!
The hug would have been good though as Fee was borderline hypothermic and I was not much warmer!
Liz Feeney
Photos
Ready for the off
Liz with her very own Deerstalker
Hay Bales
The "Scree" Hill
The first Hill
inveraray jogscotland meets every Tuesday 7pm at the shelter shed at Inveraray primary school during term time. All levels of runner welcome. £1/session 01499 302160
No comments:
Post a Comment