Clyde Stride 40

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 48^th 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.