Lomonds of Fife Hill Race (2024)

Meeting friends on the Friday night, it was a couple of beers and a curry. We wandered up the Corbett Farragon the next day. It was a hoot with everyone falling into the clagg at some point or other. However, by the time I got back to the celebrated plastic bridge in Feldy, I had clocked up 22km of walking and was hobbling. 

We dined out again that evening and it was another late-ish night. All this was hardly the preparation for the Lomonds of Fife Hill Race on Sunday, a tasty romp across the heather and along the tourist track beside Sleepy Strathmiglo. 

Speedy and Ant had come up from Morpeth and were camped out in Dundee on the Saturday night, so I swung round to collect them and we sped down to the village hall arriving in good time. I scrounged a cup of tea (what am I like!) before the crowds appeared but was still feeling groggy from Saturday's exploits. It was coolish but there was no sign of rain, so it was a single layer affair. I spied Adrian Davis arriving, but only in his capacity, thankfully, as a marshall. 

There was an early start for some of the slower runners and around 10 or 12 left twenty minutes before the official start. The remaining 50 or so runners lined up as the sun broke out and we began the long trog up through the woods and across the moors to the East Lomond. 

I fell in with a woman from Carnethy and, feeling heavy and sluggish, I sat in for the first 3 miles. Speedy passed us in the other direction in 5th place as we began the first ascent. It was back down to the water station and then into the headwind along the tourist track. I began to feel better as we worked our way west and left the young Lomond runner and the Carnethy; but she was still shadowing me. 

I grafted up the West Lomond and the marshalls were positive, upbeat and windswept at the top. I passed a runner who looked like she'd run out of steam and fixed onto a Falkland runner ahead. However after the turn around the Bunnet Stane it was back up and along a sheep path. As we traversed the side of the hill, I wasn't sure where we were to descend and fannied about, initially dropping halfway down the slope, but then, when I looked back up to the path, I saw Carnethy woman and another runner running level with me. She was wearing mitts I thought she looked like she knew where she was going, so I changed direction and began to work my way back up to the path. By the time I got there she was away, her mitts no doubt used to fend off the gorse as she dropped down a narrow ravine. I followed but with less certainty and experienced 'death by gorse'. Suitably inoculated, I eventually arrived, bloodied, on the lower path . Carnethy was away ahead with 40 seconds or so on me. Worse still, there were another 2 runners descending parallel with me and they hit the path 30 metres in front. One was a v60 for sure - they must have gone further along the sheep path - it also seemed a good line they were taking. 

Disgusted with my antics, I ramped up the speed and caught both runners as we entered the woods. I caught Carnethy's Michelle in the last mile and crossed the line an exhausted mess in 1:59 for this 11 miler.  I was 4 minutes down on the Falkland runner. How could I have lost so much time? 

Speedy broke the course record finishing in 1:38, but she had also spent too long looking for a good line of descent.  The prize giving was curtailed as a runner had fainted after becoming dehydrated, but he was fine after a trip to the Hospital. If I do that race again I'm deffo going to spend a random morning seeking the best line down the hill. First v60 - but only by a whisker and after a mega-effort in the last mile. Its no wonder I am preferring swimming at the mo! 

        

Balmullo Trail Race: Caketastic

 

The original idea last winter was to be up in Fife or Perthshire for some long weekends this summer. In order to make this a reality we looked for a wee but-n' -ben somewhere around there to use as a base. To date that objective hasn't yet been achieved, but it doesn't mean you can't still go awol at work on Thursday and take off.  I had the running and cycling gear and a road bike in the car as I hoofed my way up north around lunchtime. I got to Dundee around 3pm and checked in at the Hotel. They had offered us a free room and breakfast (after we used it last year after a race and had an awful night on mattresses that were shot (or should have been)). 

As I lay on the crisp white sheet-ed king size bed with a cuppa, I scrolled down the race calendar. I noticed that the Balmullo Trail Race was on that evening.  It was only 10 miles or so from where I was. This race was the last of the Fife summer series. I texted Fife's Ken, the organiser, to see if I could get a late entry. I received a warmly worded invite and so it was, a trip over the bridge for the 5 mile trail race. 

The Tay Bridge was down to single lanes and this delayed me by 20 minutes. However, I arrived in enough time after a short detour to Guardbridge - I'd obviously been given the wrong postcode.  It was warm but breezy. I paid my four quid and warmed up. Unusually good value. There were plenty from the Fife, Falkland and Kinross clubs in the 90 strong field. 

Looking at the setting for the race, it appeared that it was a hill race in disguise and the first 2 miles were all up. But that meant that the last 2 miles would be all down. After passing a few including vet Tony Martin, I stuck with a tall fife runner in red T-shirt. He had a big stride but like me, he was making the ascent hard work. I took the phone camera and grabbed a few snaps on the way up. At the turn I was still with the Fife lad. I expected him to pull away and capitalize on his size and stride on the way down, but he waved me on soon after and I focused on the runner ahead. 

As on the way out, it was a varied surface on the way back, a mix of grass, road and gravel tracks and I crossed the line in 38 minutes for 26th place. After getting changed in the car, I wandered into the Burnside Hall and was confronted with a cake table that looked like it was out of a cartoon - it went on forever and was heaving with sugary delights. I had a tea and some lovely frosted Madeira cake and, after thanking the organisers, I left. 

The following morning, after a 5 mile jog around Dundee City Centre, I returned to the hotel for a fry up. I know, its not athletes food. Picking up my phone, I found a text from Fife Ken saying I had won a bottle of wine and he could drop it off if I was based locally. Now that's service. Not being much of a wine drinker, I thanked him and asked him to redistribute it. The day was spent in Perth and then it was up to Aberfeldy to meet friends.  Top Stuff.

The Lowther Trail Race

There was some mid-week discussion as to whether the Lowther Trail Race was something that me and Speedy fancied. I remembered the castle, but couldn't remember the course. At 13 miles, I should have had. 

I had a vague notion of running along a slowly rising long draggy and wide gravel path and another mental snapshot of a section of wet reedy grass and a river crossing, but beyond that I was stumped. I checked the results and found my name down in a set of results from 2017. Surely I had blogged about it. However, on checking the blog, there was no mention. What did all this amnesia mean? Was it a good sign? 

There were no entries on the day, but the pre-entries were held open until the night before the event, so on Saturday lunchtime we committed the 13 quid each and checked the forecast. It looked like it could be a hot one. A quid a mile. Thats more like it.

My time in 2017 was just under the 2 hours so I had an idea that if I finished around 2 hours or so it would be acceptable. We left the house around 8am and drove to the Estate. Until recently the Castle facade and some low walls were all that remained of the buildings, but someone has recently put in a bit of money and its changed since I last didn't remember it. 

We got our numbers and used the communal cafe toilets. Very avant garde I must say. A set of non gender assigned cubicles. People were visibly confused. We initially had bumbags, but after checking that there were actually water-stops, we ditched these and decided to travel light. 

It was, after all, a trail race. There were around 150 or so present and I reminded Speedy to take the first 3 miles super steady what with the mercury rising and the skies clearing to reveal strong warm sunshine...who knew...summer!?  

We took off down the grassy slope heading away from the Castle onto a wide estate path and then past a church and old bridge. Half the congregation were peering over the low stone wall and the kids hanging off the iron gate in their best sunday gear, watching the stream of misfits take on the best the Lowther Estate could throw at us. We ran through Askham village and then the road began to rise - yes, here it was, the long draggy gravel path. 

The path rose for around 3 miles before we were confronted on the ridge with a stunning view of Pooley Bridge and the north end of Ullswater. It was awesome, and had I not been chewing on trying to track a spidery looking old gadgie 15 seconds ahead, I might have stopped and taken a photo. 

On the way down off the ridge it became grassier with more heather as we crossed the moor. I sat in with a high stepping tall runner who looked like he was out for a jog. Lolloping across the heather. Needless to say I wasn't lolloping and he soon lolloped his way ahead. After around 5 miles spidery gadgie had extended his lead on me and I relinquished any hope of catching him. This put me in a better mood and after a water stop at 6 mile and the river crossing at 8 miles (squelch, squelch) I took some comfort in there being less mileage ahead than there was behind. At around 9 mile, we came to a craggy outcrop and I decided to take a couple of snaps. I asked the runners behind to look lively and make it look like they were enjoying themselves: click. The wee group ahead fragmented over the next mile and toward the end there were a few runners caught and a few passed by. The ones that I caught were down to a shuffle and had clearly overcooked it in the early stages. It was 1:57 and 3rd M60 over the line. A short sprint was required when an Eden Runner had the temerity to try and pass me. I had to snap myself out of my dreamlike heat riven plod-bubble and he soon ate my shorts. 

Speedy did well for 2nd to Hannah Russell. We all collected a bottle of beer. The prize-winners collected a further 3 bottles - I commented that this was probably not something that should continue - giving alcohol out to athletes. What hope is there for the next olympics. A gold medal and a bottle of brown ale? Anyway, consider yourself updated.     

Darlington 10k

 I'd never ran the Darlington 10k before. When the Dark Destroyer (Lornie) advised us that she fancied a run around her gaff, we thought we'd jog on down and see what was occurring. Its an early Sunday morning affair with a 2 looper around the leafier parts of the the town.  It was around 20 bangers to get in, but at least there wouldnt be any proper hills and the roads were closed. Bonus. Last year there were 3 or 4 who went sub 30, so it must be flattish. 

We parked up just outside the town centre, up some side street, and I looked back fondly as we walked away from the car wondering if it would still be in one piece when we returned. There was already a good crowd assembling when we reached the shops and arcades and we grabbed our numbers and took in the spectacle. Those wearing bright club vests, all those fluorescent platform boat-soled carbon shoes and all that money spent, gymsharks in their body hugging gear and slick backed hair and some locals who, bemused, were accidentally caught in the carnival crossfire and were only on their way to Greggs for a bacon sarnie and a coffee.  I noticed on my mid town warm up that there are at least two Greggs in Darlo city centre. That's how they roll down there. 

There were 7 pens for the runners (no, not parkers) and after a mile warm up in cool below average temperatures, I mosied surreptitiously to Pen 2. It felt about right. I had a target of sub 43, but secretly (and I can tell you this now..) I would have been disappointed with a 42. Forty one minutes seemed a realistic time.

Off we trundled and I soon got into my stride. When you've got to keep the gas on for a good wee while, it soon takes it out of you and with a crowd of around 1800 runners, there was quite a bit of tooing and frowing. I tucked in behind a green vested runner with Mark printed on his back - he might have had something to do with Northallerton. He was tall with grey hair and had a nice even pace. However, after 4 km it was just too even for me and the elastic snapped and I began to drift back. 'Come back Mark', I cried inside. Beyond that, there was not much to report; no dramas and a workmanlike 41.05 for 4th M60 on gun time, but 3rd on chip time. Lornie had finished just before me, in 41.10, her having set off in the first wave and Linds was there to give us support at the end. We repaired to the nearby coffee shop, truly Neros for Heroes and found a seat and ordered before the throngs arrived. All in all not a bad day out. Lornie was 5th senior and seemed happy to get a voucher.  We all got a t shirt, but none of us went to Greggs.