Stuc and Lomond Recce

 Having successfully signed up and paid my cash for the Lairig in June, I realised that a jaunty 50k around a pan flat course in Perth was hardly going to prepare me for the cross country challenge of a 43k hill run between Braemar and Aviemore. I had to look for some altitude to shock my rattling and decrepit carcass into action. So it's the Stuc a Chroin 5000 on the 30th April. Call me mental.

With this in mind and recognising that speedy joe (Cat) needed a recce for the uphill Ben Lomond Trial in May, we hot footed it up to Strathyre on Good Friday morning to find us some mountains to run up. Arriving in the village late morning, we were off and onto the forest tracks by 1pm. However, the map of the course we had was a bit pants and I had to stop to consult the OS map and Cat and Ant about where we were heading. The blind leading the blind. There was a lot of shrugging and chin stroking going on, I can tell you. We ended up off-course, then back on-course, but then came face to face with Ben Each. We weren't sure we could see the Stuc, which is behind Ben Each, but the second half of the race route was clearly going to be a monster quad-melting lung-buster. We picked our way down to Glen Ample and reckoned we had done about half the race route. However, it was around 3pm by then and we agreed to return down the Glen and run along road and trail back to the village. It was a quick change followed by coffee and then a prompt drive to Gartmorn where the tent was erected and we force marched ourselves the mile or so to the village to keep our reservation for dinner at the pub. A community ran affair, the pub was clean, the service good and the food hot and (glen) ample.  We mosied back to the campsite and were tucked up by 9.30pm. I won't mention the camper drying their hair at 10.30 or the bloke with the wee crackling fire going well into the evening, but its a risk you take when you go all out-doorsy. The walls are thin in a tent. Not that I was in it; I was in the car. 

Sunday arrived and we were up and out after a coffee on the stove by 8am. We parked up at the overflow car park in Rowardennan and after some huffing and puffing we reached the top of Ben Lomond in just over an hour. We passed a few couples who had set off early doors, dog walkers and one guy carrying his bike. Upon being passed by Speedy Joe, one wifey remarked 'no that's what I call skill...'. I of course lapped this up and after a few fotos at the top in the clag with Ant and Cat, I found myself grandstanding on the lower slopes to the hoardes who had appeared on the lower slopes. Shame on me. Granted some of them did look like they were kitted out for a walk to the shops to get the paper and rolls rather than several hours of ascent up Lomond, but who am I to judge?  Getting back home late afternoon, we only identified one unwelcome arachnid in the luggage; but one is one too many in my book. More TCP spray required on the tights next time. 

Sodium Drama at the Perth 50k

We left Dunkeld on the Saturday and got to Perth to watch the youngsters run the Parkrun. Morag Miller and one of the 100k Celtic Cup competitors won it, but our lot all had solid runs in calm and warm conditions. We retired to a coffee house for a hot roll and coffee of choice. I was still suffering toothache and took to my bed for an hours kip in the afternoon. Later, I bought a new buff in the afternoon, but otherwise I was ready to do battle the next day at the 50k event in North Insch Park. It was a 1.2 mile circuit. Having ran it last year at the 10k, I knew the course. We dined on pasta and it was bed by nine. Sunday arrived and we rose around 7am. The 100k event had already commenced with around 70 runners. I felt good and ready to go. After a breakfast of porridge, tea and a pastry, I made my way to the park. Missus Mac was also running, her having raised £700 for the Alzheimer’s charity. We got our numbers without any dramas and lined up for the 10am start. My costume for the day consisted of my Omm tights, Bella vest, my new fuchsia buff on the bonce, shades, zebra striped arm-warmers and kids woollen gloves. I cut a strange clashing figure as I warmed up. Was I dressed like this for a bet. On the run up to the race I had joked that I would apply a dob of face paint at the end of each lap and call it ‘performance art’, but I hadn’t found any in the shops the day before. On reflection, maybe it was just as well.

We effortlessly joined the 100k event and I fell into my pace. I wasn’t sure what my initial pace would be but I found myself running a 7:11 first mile. It was sunny and mild. Perfect. If I was going to do a 50k, today was the day. I plugged myself into Chicane for an hour before changing to Grace Jones for a good long while. There was an extensive choice of drinks and snacks every lap and I reached regularly for an arrowroot drink or water. I had a gel at 5 miles and then another at around 12 miles. I dispensed with the gloves first, then the arm-warmers. There were around 100 runners for the 50k and lapping at all times and abilities, I had no idea where I was in the field. My pace had fallen to 7.30 after 15 miles and I stopped briefly for some potatoes which I’d brought along. Our support team were vocal and really helpful. At 20 miles my speed began to drop markedly. I wasn’t sure why, but I was a basket case by 25 miles. My pace was dropping toward nine minute miles. I came past the marathon mark at around 3:25. At 27 miles I felt my nail catch and detach. It got caught in my compression sock. It hurt. I stopped immediately and pulled off my shoe to free the nail and toe from the sock end, only to cramp hugely in both inner thighs.  As I lay sprawled on the deck, immobilised, one spectator chap asked if I needed anything to which I replied ‘salt’. The other chap shouted at a women running toward me not to step on me and she kindly veered away. It took 4 minutes to get my shoe back on. In the meantime, the gent returned with salt capsules. ‘They are 600mg’ he said ‘take two’. However, I had no idea whether this was a lot or too little so I took one. I was running again and my pace stabilised. I finished in 4:12 and 14^th place, 4^th M50.  As I hobbled to where our gear and helpers were I cramped again and quickly found more salt.  I suspect my demise from the 20 mile mark was a result of lack of salt and I recall cramping at 18 miles at the Edinburgh marathon and badly at the Pentland Skyline years earlier.  Something to keep in mind for the 43km Lairig Ghru in June. 

Missus Mac finished in a very impressive 6:25 after a late run wobble, but she was resurrected by tea and Queen. We watched the prize giving and retired with the support crew to Brewdog for a beer before a Chinese takeaway and bed. Adrian Stotts organisation was very professional and the whole event ran very smoothly.  I was walking like John Wayne on the Monday.