Lairig Ghru 2022

 The Lairig Ghru was my big target for the year and it didn’t disappoint. With 250 or so entered, there were eventually 200 finishers for this mountain marathon. I can’t recall why I wanted to do this originally, but its remained a goal over the last year or three. We found the hostel in Braemar after a little confusion and I paid the bloke an extra twenty quid for the 6 bed room rather than the 3 bedder we had booked a fortnight earlier. We were in the attic and the room very basic. We were glad to get to bed around ten after a cuppa. Sunday morning arrived. After rescuing Mrs Mac from the shower cubicle which she had somehow managed to lock herself within, it was breakies. I had porridge and a croissant and listened to the other 3 guests in the dining room speculate about the impending race in the light of their past race experience. I wandered into the village to get my kit checked and got my number and warmed up along a back road. I elected to go with a long sleeve top and tights in the light of the forecast which wasn’t very encouraging. However, after 2 or 3 miles along the road, I was cooking as the sun came out and the mercury rose. 

There was a good mix of folk and I recognised Davis and Duncan but not many others.  I latched onto a small group as we made our way west then north. Thankfully, as the wind rose, it was behind us, which was a big bonus. 

The camera-phone was out, then in, then out and I dropped a few places here and there fannying about trying to capture the remote, ancient beauty of the setting. As we headed north it clouded over and by the time we got to the river crossing it was cool and cloudy. One of the two girls I was with at the time lost her footing on the rocks and went for a dip; not quire fully immersed but near enough. She dropped back a bit shortly afterwards. 

With it being so dry there was a lack of burns with fresh water crossing the route and I stopped to top up my water supply on several occasions. I had one bottle of 330ml and a spare. Predictably, being over-dressed and the heavy showers turning out to be no more than a drizzle, I sweated like an overdressed runner and the supply of salt tablets disappeared. 

The route became increasingly cobbly and boulder strewn and it took an effort to concentrate to avoid tripping. At around 18 miles we reached the highest point and the 2nd checkpoint but my earlier hopes of being able to hammer down the remaining 8 miles of descent through Rothiemurcus forest were dashed as I was completely puggled and my lateral knee ligament was giving me grief. I thought ‘there’s my meal ticket’ when a new runner came past, me thinking that if I stuck with them, they will lead me to the finish, but I let every one of them go and as we hit the better paths through the forest I was so tired that I nearly went flying on more than one occasion. First rock-kicker, then root-kicker.

I slowed and slowed and was walking by the end. I  scrounged some salt tablets from a wee group that passed with a couple of miles to go. The last mile went on forever and as the rain began again I was happy to see my wee support group and the finish line. After, I was treated to a pint and as I coiffed the foaming ale, there was, outside the window, a continual stream of exhausted individuals finishing after me . An epic day out and a very memorable one. Finished around 4:48 and enjoyed a slap up feed in the posh hotel that I had booked in Dundee. It was luxury and still cheaper than the hostel.