Across the moorlands, past the mountains
O'er the rivers beside the new stream
Something tells me that I'm going home.....................
Following on from my trials and tribulations of the previous week, it was Kirsten's turn to face those long-distance demons this week, to find out how deep she could dig, and to gain valuable experience, grit and toughness in the art of "keeping going when you don't want to"!
We headed up to Scotland on the Tuesday, to camp at Bridge of Orchy. Kirsten was under strict instructions to do nothing but take it easy!! Rufus was with us, so dog-walking was the order of the day for her!!
No such restrictions for me though!!! So, with the weather glorious when we arrived at 5pm, I headed straight over the road and straight up Beinn Dorain. And I mean straight up!!! No path to the col, I took a direct line 2,500ft upwards to head through the crags and emerge pretty much at the summit. Exhilirating is the word that springs to mind!! I've been up that mountain 4 times now, but I don't think I've ever seen such a beautiful clear view from it. Snowy mountains in every direction, the Ben standing majestically above them all. A quick run back down (down the path!) and tea and midges to end a lovely day.
Wednesday and Thursday saw me doing some running on the West Highland Way and meeting up with some folks who were walking it for charity. A good combination of fast, hard running on the trail, followed by long, gentle walking, chatting and absorbing the wonderful views across the Rannoch Moor...all done in glorious weather. Thursday saw some rain as I ran over the Devil's Staircase to Kinlochleven then ran back up to the top again to meet the rest of them. The views of the Buchaille were awesome!!
And then we headed off to Aberfeldy to set up camp and prepare. The weather forecast was looking a bit iffy for the Saturday...but at least it wasn't going to be 80 degrees like the previous weekend!!
In fact, it was an overcast but pleasant morning as the masses assembled in Dunkeld. Kirsten was a bag of nerves (to be expected) and desperate to get going. The group were piped out of the town, as I headed a few miles up the route to go and take Rufus to kennels for the weekend, before watching Kirsten come through, looking very relaxed and quite near the front.
I zoomed over to Kirkmichael and joined some other folks from Yorkshire in heading up onto the hill to watch the first few appear...then Kirsten appeared, and I ran in with her to the checkpoint at 12-ish miles. She was going really well, and smiling!!
As I left her here, I knew it would be some time before I saw her again, as she headed out into the "wilds" towards Glen Tilt. I parked up at Blair Atholl and headed back to the checkpoint at Shinagag, then back again on the path where I'd suffered from near-frostbitten toes back in February.
And soon enough, along she came, trotting well and looking good for someone who'd done a fair few miles by now!! We ran together and were joined by Norman, also looking very comfortable. As we reached the road section down into Blair Atholl, I nipped ahead in the car to meet her at the checkpoint, where it became apparent her feet were starting to hurt a bit. No surprise really.
I left her then, to do the 6 miles up to Calvine School, where I took a look at her blistering feet, and did the best I could to patch them up. Not what she wanted with a 6-mile stretch of tarmac cycle path ahead, and the rain starting to fall quite heavily.
At the next checkpoint (run by the Marches in a marquee!), the rain really started. As Kirsten headed out into the dark for a 2-mile uphill stretch on road, I drove up to Errochty Dam where I'd promised to navigate her through the night. The rain was bouncing off the road now, turning it into a river, with the bizarre site of frogs of all shapes and sizes hopping across it.
I parked the car as best I could by the roadside, donned 5 layers and the waterproof and sat, not relishing the prospect of leaving the car. Somehow, I missed Kirsten going by (probably the fact that I could only pick out the odd torchlight through the downpour!) but saw Norman and quickly nipped out and into a wild Scottish night.
The checkpoint at the dam was full of wet, miserable-looking people. Cold people as well, with quite a few already shivering. We gathered a group of 6, as I led them off into the gloom and a relatively straightforward first few miles on a wet track by the side of the loch. But thereafter, it deteriorated badly, heading across boggy, tussocky, pathless, flat ground to a sel-clip checkpoint in the middle of the bog, before a pointless climb up slippy peat alongside a deer-fence, then a traverse along the top of the deer fence, before my navigation was tested in the first light of dawn on a pathless descent to the hillside above Kinloch Rannoch. Somehow I got it spot on!!
I'd tried to be cheerful early on and keep spirits up, but after over 4 hours of bog-trotting, conversation was at a premium, there were some miserable faces, and Kirsten and Norman's friend were struggling at the back, both having incredibly painful feet, blistered beyond comprehension by the mix of hard trails then wet boggy ground, causing them to limp on the sides of their feet.
We got into the checkpoint with Kirsten feeling she'd had enough. I persuaded her to take her time, have her breakfast and see how she felt then. Which she did, but she clearly wasn't coming round to a sufficient degree to allow her to head out and into another steep, pathless, boggy area on the shoulder of Schiehallion. When Norman's friend said he was stopping here, that, I think, was the nail in the coffin and the decision was made (rightly, in my view and in retrospect).
We checked to see if she could get a lift back to Errochty...nope! Which meant I'd got to run back to the car!!! Strangely, I decided to take the tarmac route!! No idea why now, apart from the fact it got me back in just over 2 hours. I jumped in, drove back....to find Kirsten fast asleep in the gym hall at the school!!! I woke her and she limped into the car, feeling a bit low.
A couple of painful, sore days thereafter....both physically and mentally. It hits you hard when you don't complete something you've trained for....I should know!! But, as time passes, you get perspective and realise how much you've gained from that very experience. Kirsten completed 62 really tough miles in 18 hours. The conditions were awful overnight, just when she didn't need it to be like that. She's been running for just a year and, as I've pointed out many times since, it takes YEARS to build up the mental side, let alone the physical one.
And, in retrospect, stopping was the right thing to do. She's a bit crocked right now with what may be an ITB problem, caused I suspect by running on the sides of her feet for the last x miles at the 100. We've got a lot on during these summer months, far too much to look forward to to wreck herself on one run. She'll bounce back better next year and complete the Shropshire 100 if she wants to...although I partly sense focus turning towards a medium-term 2 to 3 year plan to go a BG. Whatever she does, I'm really proud of her and for her for an astonishing year of long-distance training and running, for getting as far as she did, in such a good time and, most of all, for keeping that lovely smile on her face at all times (oh, ok, ALMOST all of the time!!).
I realised afterwards just how many miles I'd done myself on the day. About 35 I reckon, albeit at a slow-ish pace. But it was a big mileage week again, and my body has complained a little since. I'm not cut out for much more than 50 miles in a week these days I think.
Total for the week - 74mls & 11,000ft
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