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.

'Blimey, its Blisco'

 

After 6 months of denial, I have bought a set of new scales. The last ones were a little unsteady. Unreliable scales are a waste of space. Over the late winter and spring, I put my generous body shape down to swimming twice and, occasionally, three times a week. There was not much running mileage going on and this was coupled with creeping biscuit and beer intake. Fair enough, I had some reasonable race results, but most (or all of them) were off road, where placings tend to be of more interest than times.

As I gingerly mounted the sleek glass 'speak your weight' machine, it just spluttered and said 'you're having a laugh, fat boy...put that cake down.....welcome to this years slimmers club'.  

It was no wonder that I struggled up Blisco Pike on Saturday at the UK fell running championships. It was so steep that I didn't bother to look up to check out who the various runners were who were passing by on the ascent. It was so steep that I didn't even bother to look back or look around to take in the stunning scenery of the North Lakes. What a tedious slog.

My first mile along the rising tarmac was around 9 minutes, but in this short steep (AS classification) event of 4.5miles, my second mile came in at 26 minutes. The last wee bit to the top was a scramble up a couple of rocky outcrops and I nearly got my fingers stood on by the guy in front as he faltered trying to get his grip. It took 40 minutes to the summit, a 2000ft rise. 

At the top, I clambered around the ridge trying to work out a reasonable line downhill, I wondered if I still had Snowdon in my legs, having spent last week wandering around with Doms. Maybe I shouldn't have been surprised. With the sun shining after a grim wet morning I tried to make a fist of it on the descent and went hammer and tongs at it against a Mercia Runner called Mark (or at least thats the name his supporters were shouting). He took the grass, I was on the path, but it was too little, too late and while I got him on the lower slope, he caught me later on the tarmac. It was 13th M60 and just over the hour at the line. Looking at the finishers, I might have been 4th-6th possibly, although I accept these short steep hills and scrambles are not my forte. 

Anyway, yesterday was a 10 miler and with another 6 miler today and a swim booked for later, the flab fightback has begun. I've a 10k this weekend which will make a pleasant change.  Get those calories burnt. On the book front I easily made my way through 'The Restraint of Beasts' by Magnus Mills, a short quirky delight. But its on to 'Dispatches' by Michael Herr, a sobering read about 60's Vietnam.   

Ras Yr Wydffa

With the Snowdon Mountain Race shortened last year, Mrs Mac developed a deep seated desire to complete the full 9.5 miler after her initial 2023 taster. Speedy was privileged to get a call up for the Scottish Team and I was voted as best driver for the intended trip, and, strangely, I also found my name down on the entry list. 

Mrs Mac hasn't managed much training in recent weeks so, in preparation, we rocked up last week to a local low key trail race. We hadn't pre-entered but I was assured that there were entries on the line. It was 17 quid for UKA members; 19 for others. It was a warm muggy evening as we approached the organisers table. We had our names and ages taken and received our numbers. 'That'll be 40 quid please' advised the young lady as she looked up. I looked a little nonplussed, then inquired why the inflated charge. There seemed little debate and that's what she wanted, I think because that was the 'enter on the line' charge. However, for some reason, I bridled at this rampant runflation and handed my number back. Mrs Mac considered the developing situation, and then, to my relief, handed hers back. The scene reminded me of the advert where the bloke tries to buy onions, only for the vendor to say that he only accepts crypto currency.  What a load of Malarkey.

We went instead back home via a chip shop and pub where we enjoyed the life of Joe Public for an hour and spent some, but not all, of the 40 quid the run was going to cost us.  I admit, chip shop and pubs are not destinations that any self respecting athlete should be frequenting, but my self respect is a little down in the polls right now and, anyway, a 'bonding' session is a term used routinely for this sort of deviancy, is it not? 

With 800 extra calories on board, our small troop took off at 9.30am on Friday and we made our way to Llanberis. We arrived just before four in the afternoon and the sun was high, the mighty slate mountains looking down on us as we let ourselves in the end of terrace cottage we had booked for the 2 days. It was right on the course along the road that leads up to Yr Wyddfa, all 3500ft of it. After unpacking, it was a steady 4 mile shake down along the lake followed by a short refreshment and pasta. The forecast for the next day was bleak for July, but not apocalyptic with steady rain but light southerly winds and we were hopeful that we would get to run the full race course. 

We rested on Saturday morning, letting our porridge and bananas settle, before picking our numbers and t- shirts up at a local church. Speedy was no 13 and I recommended she wore the number upside down. However, she's not superstitious (at least with regards to that number) and we wandered back to the cottage for a last minute cuppa as the crowds and air of anticipation began to rise. 

A light drizzle had arrived as expected as we warmed up next to the start, Mrs Mac picking up a new lightweight waterproof at Pete Blands stall in last minute prep for the start. My experience last year (where I found out it was gun time that counted at the finish line and not chip time) meant that, this year, I was starting as close to the start line as possible and we were soon off, the international runners streaking away in front. 

The steepest sections of the race are the first mile and the fourth, and I knew I had to work hard to get up the hill in good time in order to take advantage of the long runnable descent. I was sitting behind an irish runner and kept close to a bloke from Horwich. He kept walking-jogging and this reflected my 'style'. He might have also been M60 so I didn't want to let him go. There was water on the course at two water stations and even though I was completely saturated, it was welcome. 

We moved higher up the hill and soon the paths had become rivulets of brown gravelly water. There were, as ever, loads of walkers peppered about the place. What a treat for them. Four hundred mental runners coming at them from all angles. Soon enough the leaders started tearing down past us and Speedy looked like she was doing well. I got past Horwich man near the top and rounded the turn with the Irish runner. I hoofed on then down the hill, passing an ascending Mrs Mac who had beaten the cut-off. On the long descent I managed to pick off a good handful of runners which is excellent for morale. 

Ant gave me a shout near the bottom and that spurred me on but it seemed a long way down. However, it only took 30 minutes and I hit the tarmac with little reserve but determination to avoid getting caught on the mile run-in to the finish. Irish girl came past easily as gravity reverted to normal, but she was not in my age group and I gritted my teeth for 1:38 on the line and, as it turned out, 1st M60. I was convinced that the phenomena that is Bingley's Ian Holmes would have been 1st, but he's still in his late 50's. He still managed 1.22. Speedy finished 9th (again), a great result considering her episode of lurgy a fortnight ago. 

 

We opted to go to the presentation and, in doing so, missed Mrs Macs glorious return. It was raining heavily at this point, but there was no sign of her new waterproof..... 'Keeping it for good?!' 

It was a 30 quid token for the race and a free curry in the evening. .

Note to self: don't drink beer immediately after eating red onions. Taste buds all over the place. 

All in all a decent weekend.  

I'm in Aberfeldy next month for a friends meet-up. In browsing the race programme for races, I came across the Kenmore trail race on the Friday evening. Six miles. Ideal. The price? Thirty five notes. Give us a break!

      

Hit and Mist: Bottoms Up Cup

Training for Snowdon this coming weekend has been a bit hit and miss, what with work and this blidy rain getting in the way of my leisure activity. I had 2 days work near Lewes on the south coast this week. The work was ok, but the driving was truly awful. The A1 and roads all around Peterborough were jammed up going down and the M1 was almost all 50 mile-an-hour road works all the way to Sheffield. Eight hours down and nearly as much on the return trip. 

I watched Parkrun on Saturday and, in the afternoon, Speedy and I took off to run/shuffle up Scald Law and the Cheviot. It's a 3 mile ascent of 2000ft; not huge or greatly steep, but short of going north or west, we're a bit limited around these parts for big hills. We got soaked and nearly lost as the clag descended as we ascended and on the way down we took the wrong path in the thick swirling mist and rain. We retraced our steps, found the right path and I was happy to get dry gear on after 80 minutes in the rainy wilds of July. No prizes for being a mountain rescue statistic.

Later, I was skimming the events page of running events and I noticed a 5km Bottom Up trail race on Sunday morning at Washington, which is about half an hour from us. 

We duly loaded up on Sunday Morning and got down early to buy a 'enter on the day' special. Thirteen notes. Around 120 lined up for this rock around the park and urban woods affair. The dark destroyer was their with Barns the dog in support. 

The start was seriously narrow and there was a bike sportive coming through in the opposite direction. Coupled with wet and slippy conditions, I tried to get the start moved 60 yards further up, but the organiser was happy to tell me that they were looking at this for next year, but just not today. Thankfully no one got flattened, but it wasn't very clever. 

After a fast start, I settled into a good pace. I could still see Speedy ahead after a mile but the twisty-turny nature of the course as it weaved its way around the park and wooded corridors and underpasses left me disorientated and around 2 miles I lost a couple of places on two small clicks where I slowed, and the passing youngsters powered on up. I kept them in my sights and at 6.45pace, with a final spurt of 5.45 for the finishing straight, I finished 13th. 

It was a nice wee cup and 50 bangers for Speedy as first lady and several cups of tea and a square of carrot cake for me. I was first m50/m60 and enjoyed the event. Ok, not the best field, but so what. The sinuous nature of the course occupied my brain. Staying upright on my posh trainers as we traversed greasy tarmac and soft gravel stretches took my mind off the hard graft I was putting in. Finished in 21:10 in the end.  

The published results initially omitted the names and details of all those who entered on the day, but after I texted someone, it was sort of amended. Given that the winners of both male and female races were enter on the day, it was the least they could do. However, on the day a great wee club event and recommended. 

https://www.trailoutlaws.com/event_results/bottoms-up-cup-results-2024