We rocked up early Friday evening at Marine Drive in
Granton. After a dispiriting encounter with a faceless and regressive
self-ordering kiosk at McDonalds that refused to issue us with a receipt for 3
coffees, we re-grouped, we regained our composure and we were all set to do
battle with the north-westerly that was going to make landing a PB at the
Scottish 5k champs a big-ask. The course at Silverknowes is flat and scenic.
There was plenty of joe public around as the 700 or so competitors of all
shapes, gender and age preened, stretched and went through their cooky pre-run
routines. Our no.1 5k champ had injured his ankle a week before so he couldn’t
run, but had come along in support for me and speedy joe. He was nominated
principal jumper carrier. After a 2m warm up, we were set to go and I lined up
with the other 500 or so men. I was stood next to Willie Jarvie whom I hadn’t
seen for a long time and a wee group from Motherwell and Edinburgh AC toward
the back. We took off from the gun and with a tailwind careered down the
promenade at breakneck speed. It was a 5.59 first mile. At 2km, we turned into
the wind. It was then that I instigated ‘Operation windshield’: A shameless
display of drafting into a brisk headwind. I was sandwiched between a huge
Motherwell runner and a tall Edinburgh A.C athlete. It was a masterful display in
the art of minimising drag; RuPaul wouldn’t have approved. God knows I’ve had
enough practice at hiding behind runners, a skill developed during my formative
years hiding in the peloton. My second mile was only 5 seconds slower than my
first. I sat in with the wee group, a flying ‘v shape’ being buffeted ahead of
me and my wingmen close around me. If they got too close, I extended my elbows
with just enough lift to ensure they knew I was the central occupying force. I
kept my eyes fixed on Edinburgh mans tail-lights and my head down. At the turn with
1km to go, I was flat out back in with the tailwind and immediately the group
broke and I drifted into the finish on nothing but fumes and slaver, finishing in
18:54. I was rewarded with a discreet dry boak behind the portaloos (as you do
when you’ve over done it!). Speedy joe
started with the women and came in 21st in 17:50 something. We eased
off with a warm down, a fish supper in Pilton and bed in the Travelodge in
Livingston – and very nice it was too. Remarkably. Quiet, cheap and
comfortable.
Saturday saw us up and out by 8.30am and we were sat in the
Drymen Inn by 10 dining on egg and sausage rolls and what-not, in readiness for
the Ben Lomond Hill Race. If you recall we had been up here on a recce a month
ago so we felt full of vim and vigour at the prospect of getting to the top
within the hour on a course we knew.
We caught the shuttle bus from Balmaha and were in Rowardennan in good time. The kit
check was painless and after some thought, we agreed it was a one layer vest
day. There were around 90 in for this classic and it was my second running of
the race. I made my way to the start overhearing one runner describe the race
to his partner as being ‘like a park-run, but just with a lot better
runners’. We were sent on our way by the organiser and there were plenty of
startled folk on the path meandering up and down the hill as the long colourful
line of puffing billys came past. I had an early ding-dong with a leggy Gilmore
from Carnethy before leaving him behind near the summit as we were taken off
the path by the crafty folk of Westerlands.
Not sure why. However, the fast lads were soon coming back our way out
of the mist at breakneck speed on their return and I spied Speedy joe who
passed me with a nonchalant nod and a look of steely determination. I was soon
at the top, enveloped in grey cool cloud, and grabbed a gubful of water before
tear-arsing it back down the hill, weaving and dodging the various punters, trying
not to trip and thanking those who yielded and harumphing at those who stood
their ground. It was a 1:32 finish and 27th for moi. Speedy joe had
landed first lady and 10th overall, so that made all the difference
to the mood on the way back. It was a quick soup and chat with a Bella clubmate
before we grabbed the first bus back and made the long pilgrimage back to
Northumberland. I’ve now got 6 weeks to get a couple of long runs under my belt
before the target event at the end of June.
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