Where to start. It started like so many
of my days with a train ride. But today was not the daily commute
into Edinburgh but the start of a big adventure. After navigating the
train and the Glasgow subway system, which is more fairground ride
than mass transit system, I arrived at Partick railway station and
the start of my first ultra the Clyde Stride 40.
In reality it had all started much
longer ago, although perhaps without an awareness of where it would
all end up. As I pulled on my trusty running top I reflected that
when I bought it in San Francisco for $10 in 2007, I had no idea it
would accompany me around a marathon let alone an ultra.
Anyway, registered, changed, drop bags
in the van, long queue for the toilets in Morrisons and I'm ready to
go. Lee (the fantastic race director) says she is going to give us a
blether, this is Scottish for come and listen to the race briefing.
Key message it's going to be hot.
And then we are herded into an
underpass and readied for the off. A couple of guys are busy
practicing cracking their whip. My initial hopes that they are simply
unconnected passing S&M enthusiasts are dashed – they are the
sweepers. One seems decidedly proficient, I decide to keep out of his
way. And then we are off, I start towards the back and try to start
slowly. The first 10 miles take you through Glasgow along the
riverside path, this is the only section I haven't recced so I'm
hoping that the navigation is easy and I have people around to
follow, both prove to be the case.
My tentative plan was to run the first
10 miles in around 1:25, and I stick to this pace well. As it turns
out it's the only bit of the plan that works. Even at 9 in the
morning the sun feels hot, and there is a nagging voice at the back
of my head that I'm perhaps going to fast. It's hard to know I've
never done this before.
Glasgow gets a bad press at times, but
on a sunny Saturday morning its a very pleasant place for a run. We
pass the stadium being built (I assume) for next years commonwealth
games, and apart from a penchant for the good people of Glasgow to
build their bridges just slightly too low to fit comfortably
underneath all is good. I have my 9bar at 3.3 miles and my gel at
6.6, it all feels textbook. A passer by asks where we are going, to
much bemusement when we tell him, Lanark is a long way away. I get
chatting to a fellow runner and we arrive at checkpoint 1.
I've never done a checkpoint before I
was a bit nervous about it all and wasn't sure what to expect, but it
all went smoothly. I found my drop bag grabbed some malt loaf, filled
up my water bottles and away. I set off quite fast after leaving the
checkpoint, almost certainly too fast. The sun was well and truly up
now and there was no getting away from the fact it was hot. Hotter
than the forecast.
Much of the next few miles were through
some very overgrown fields, but there wasn't a lot of cover and
somewhere along here it felt like the heat got into my body. It
wasn't going to leave for the rest of the day. I walked the hills,
fine, I'd always intended to do this, but stopping to reattach the
bottom of my number felt like a bit of an excuse to stop, and
gradually I felt myself slowing.
I did my good deed for the day, by
reuniting the runner in front of me with the gel he had dropped, and
my good karma was rewarded when a very kind lady offered me a jelly
baby at the David Livingston bridge. The route was more forested now
and I was hoping the shade would reinvigorate me. It didn't. I really
struggled for the next few miles up to CP2 at 18 miles.
It was hot and I walked for a long time
especially on the road section through Blantyre, a notable low on an
otherwise very scenic course. I reached CP2 in just over 3 hours,
this was actually on plan, but I knew by then any plan was shot. I
planned on being strong in the second half of the race and I felt
anything but. I resolved to sit in the shade for 5 minutes and let
myself recover slightly.
I'd frozen the bottle of water I left
in my drop bag, this was one of the best ideas of the day, as when I
got there it was deliciously chilled. I enjoyed a drink, and forced
down some warm scotch egg and some bombay mix, and some very kind
marshalls filled up my bottles. The end seemed an impossibly long way
away at this point but I thought I could make it to CP3 and worry
about the rest later.
I set off again walking and carrying
the rest of my 1 litre bottle of iced water with me. This was too big
to run far with, but I knew there we're plenty of bins in Strathclyde
park where I could ditch it in a mile or so. I remember this as being
the hottest part of the race. There was no shade and it was now 12.30
and the sun was beating down. I drank as much as a I felt I could
with one eye on my healthy fear of dehydrating and one eye on my
healthy fear of overhydrating and, tipped the rest over my head.
Someone who may have been a marshall, or may have been a kind
spectator asked how I was, “hot” I replied “I know” she said
in the kind of tone you use with children when they are poorly and
there isn't a thing you can to to help them.
The next bit was hard I tried a have a
disciplined walk run strategy where I would run three quarters of a
mile and then walk the remaining quarter, but I couldn't stick to it
and just walked and ran as I felt, which was a lot more walking than
I'd wanted. In the end I made it too the famed cow field.
We'd been warned to look out for cows
but there were non to been seen, excellent I thought, I'll slip
through their field undetected and I ran along following the river.
At one point I was about to hop down the bank and soak my bandana in
the river, only to notice a large cow swimming down the middle of the
Clyde. Naively I'd been expecting the cow attack to come from the
field, clearly underestimating the amphibious assault the beasties
had planned. I postponed refreshing my headgear and pushed on
quickly.
I left the field and walk/ran through
the woods trying to eat a sesame seed bar. My recce run on the route
seemed to pay off I only had one slight hesitation about the route,
and was able to reunite a couple of other runners with the correct
direction. It was not a day for running unnecessary extra miles, my
body felt like it was working really hard just to keep cool, running
on top of this was an effort for it. I ran into CP3 with a runner who
I'd been leapfrogging on and off for a few miles as we walked and
ran.
More frozen water at CP3, went down a
treat mixed with my flat coke, I also put away half a bounty and some
bombay mix and had another sit down in the shade. All this sitting
around at checkpoints was very bad for my time, but I think was
necessary in the heat. I rang Julie who was waiting at the finish to
keep her updated with progress it was now 5:10 into the race and I
reckoned I'd take 2:30 for the last section.
I walked out of the checkpoint to give
my stomach some time to settle, and then having finally steeled
myself to run was immediately confronted with one of the harder
sections of the course. I obeyed the yellow spray paint telling me to
jump the first fallen tree and to mind my heid on the next one, and
was then confronted with a series of steeps ups and downs which
required much walking. The first mile out of CP3 took me 25 minutes
which even in the conditions was a little shameful and the distance
seemed to pass so slowly every mile seeming to take an age.
I was then faced with a huge flight of
stairs which I struggled up and then at the top decided it was time
to stop and empty my shoes. This may have been a feeble excuse for a
rest but none the less it felt nice and I doggedly tipped a few small
stones out. Lots of people seemed to overtake while I was doing this,
so I got up and hung on to the last two runners to go past, one of
whom was wearing bright red shorts. Having someone to follow seemed
to really help and I did a good job of running with them for a short
while, but I was hanging on all the time and as soon as the path
angled up I thanked them for the tow and let them go on their way,
they looked strong and I didn't see them again.
There were more good samaritans manning
an unofficial checkpoint. They offered me a cup of water and asked if
I wanted another over my head. I said yes and one of their children
smiled and seemed only too happy to oblige, an entertaining way for
her to pass an afternoon.
I remembered the next section from my
recce when it was ankle deep in mud, no danger of that today. I ran
lots of this with another runner who had done the West Highland Way
race this year. He said he was finding this every bit as tough, which
actually gave me a real boost. I was finding it tough by this point
and it made me feel a lot better to know that someone with a lot more
experience of some really tough races felt the same. He also
crystallised the idea of stopping at the shop in Kirkfieldbank at
around 35 miles. I'd been idly dreaming of stopping for ribena, but
his talk of ice lollies sounded like a real winner.
We ran together for a while and then I
ran on a bit and made the shop, I was out of water so stocked up, but
it looked like my fellow runners had cleaned the freezer of ice
lollies. I helped myself to a tropical flavour ice pop and can
honestly say that I have never spent a better 10p in all my life. I
walked down the road eating it as happy as I had been all day.
This good mood saw me trudge slowly up
the last worst hill of the day. At the top I could start to smell the
finish. Down through the forest I was passed by a couple of people
including one lady who annoying looked like she was just out for a
short jog. I can only imagine I looked a sight in comparison, at
least the chap she was running with had the good grace to look
knackered..
My legs started to cramp as a I came
down into the village of New Lanark where the race finished. I was
running the flat and the downs now, it was nearly the end. I was
prepared for the one mile loop that takes you out of the village and
then back in to the finish, but this must be soul destroying if you
haven't studied the route carefully.
I considered carefully whether there
was anything left in the tank to defend my position if anyone came
past. I felt like I'd earned whatever place it was by now, but if
push came to shove I didn't think I could actually stop anyone taking
it off me. Thankfully the issue never arose. A minor incident where I
was nutmegged by a dog did nothing for my cramping legs, but by and
large I knew it was in the bag now.
The finish came into view, down a
couple of steps and over the line. Race director Lee looked a little
reluctant to administer the post race hug that she is famed for,
can't say I blame her at all, but like a true pro she gritted her
teeth and got on with it to complete my Clyde Stride experience. I
went to find my supporters and immediately had to referee an argument
over which of my kids got to wear the medal first. A quick lie down
in the shade and a rehydrating can of strongbow later and I'm
starting to feel human again.
7:40 and 48th place, but I'm
fairly content just to finish, on a cooler day I'd have been faster
but I doesn't really matter. A great day out and I am now an
ultramarathon runner.
