Johnny Hall’s Travels and Travails

Last night was my second Bog and Burn race - Red Moss Revolution, organised by HBT. Red Moss is probably the fastest hill race in the calendar (given my limited knowledge, this probably isn’t strictly true) since there’s only about 200m of climbing and much of the course is on tracks and tarmac. Still, it seemed hard enough to me, with most of it runnable, with a couple of nice descents and almost all of the 200m climbing coming on a long runnable ascent up Hare Hill, which made it hard to pace

I’d been down in Leek at my in-laws for a couple of days, so that Becky could go and scream at Barlow and Owen at Old Trafford on Tuesday, so much of the day leading up to the race was spent in a car on the motorway coming back to Scotland. Certainly, this wasn’t ideal preparation but probably not much worse than sitting at a desk. I felt pretty good beforehand though, which was a nice change - I’m starting to feel fitter and less tired at the moment, maybe it’s the weather.

I warmed up with Westies Chris, Ellie and Owen and chatted to a few folks including Jon from Carnethy, Kate and Ian from HBT. I feel very at home at a hill race, in a few short months I’ve gotten to know a lot of friendly and welcoming people.

A big crowd of runners assembled at the start and I took position behind the front group of speedsters. I kept up a fast pace along the road at the beginning, despite knowing I was likely to pay for it later (though I’m not sure that I did). The road rears up a bit and a few runners came past. As I get to know more runners, I’ll be better placed to judge whether to follow them or not.

We turned onto the trail and the climb up to Hare Hill. I kept a steady pace and tried to keep my breathing controlled. The hill passed quickly and then we started down a heather-covered slope. I got stuck behind someone here and made the mistake of not passing him early. Someone else came flying past and reminded me I was racing, so I got round my blocker too. Then, down a steep slope to Green Cleuch, where I passed another couple of hesitant non-hill runners. I walked all the way up the wee horrible path from there since running didn’t seem to be any benefit at any point (and because I couldn’t!) and then there was a long, rough descent, which I enjoyed. It needed a lot of concentration though.

Then, we were on the long run-in alongside Threipmuir Reservoir and someone was breathing down my neck and then passed me. This turned out to be Davie Duncan again - he did the same thing to me at Stuc a’Chroin and Cort-ma Law. In retrospect, I could have stayed with him but I’d gone to sleep a bit. Another runner came up to me and I settled in behind him and then, when he faltered, I re-passed him and pulled away and gained on Davie again. I should have put the gas down earlier and stayed on his feet.

I finished in 46:07, which was maybe a little slower than I was hoping. I did have 42 minutes in my head for some daft reason (I’d checked out last years results) but then I realised I’d meant 45 minutes (not sure where 42 came from). So, I hadn’t executed particularly well, but I enjoyed running in the evening sunshine and felt my legs were quite strong.

The Long Classics series of hill races is my main target this year, beyond just getting a bunch of hill racing done and staying fit and healthy through the year.  There are 11 races altogether and you need to run 5 to get a placing.  After this weekend, when I ran the Glen Rosa Horseshoe race, I’ve now completed 4, and, essentially by default because not many others are daft enough to run so many in a short period of time, I’m now lying 3rd in the table (behind some real winners).  Still, I’m up there for the moment at least.  I expect to be languishing by the end of the season.

I travelled over to Arran with Russell again.  This time I was hoping to actually race for the duration and to make a decent fist of things.  Last week at Loch Lochy, I ran badly, due to fatigue.  This week, I wasn’t quite so tired.  The journey over is pleasant enough - just getting on a ferry makes things fun.  The hills were in cloud at the beginning but it didn’t look too thick and I expected to be able to see the route at least part of the time.  In the end, the clouds lifted but kept the sun shielded for us for most of the race, which suited me.

There were only 23 runners, unfortunately.  It’s a classic race which deserves more attention - we discussed this quite a bit during the journey but I’m no closer to understanding why not many people ran.  Alternatives, I guess - the Lairig Ghru race, Tebay (British Championships), Arrochar the next week.  Who knows?  Hopefully, the race will continue, since it’s a great event.  If not, at least I’ve experienced it.

We barrelled off at the start and I settled in with a few Westies that I know are a bit quicker than I am - Don Reid, Graham Kelly, Murdo McLeod and Ellie Homewood.  The pace was pretty hot but I wasn’t breathing too heavily, not until we started the big climb onto the ridge.  We took the path and Don, Graham and Murdo steadily pulled away, whilst I led a small group consisting on Nigel Thomas, Ellie and Michael Diver.  Michael decided that some of the climb was runnable, where I was walking and he opened up a short gap, whilst Nigel caught and ran with me until the summit when I put in a spurt to catch Michael again.  I put another effort in to get past him and then concentrated on staying upright down the steep descent (which seemed vertical at the top).

We seemed to drop a lot of height here but I felt good so I kept the pace strong whilst we bashed through high heather and deer trods contouring under the A’ Chir ridge.  I was glad of my knee-high socks here, which protected my shins at the same time as looking ridiculous.  Then, a path and a staircase to the col under Cir Mhor.  I passed Don here - he’d been racing too much and was having a bad day, so wisely packed it in.  It didn’t take long to get to the col and then up and down to the summit, where I worked out I was in 11th position as the other ten in front of me could all be counted as I climbed.  Russell was having a good race, battling it out with Chris Upson for 4th and 5th place.

Eleventh place put some pressure on me though, since it meant I was in the top half of the field - get overtaken and I’d be in the bottom half.  After dropping back down the staircase, there is a long, tricky contour around to the Saddle, where the best advice is to stay high and climb over some difficult slabs.  I felt like perhaps I went a bit too high here but it’s hard to say.  After the saddle, it’s a long climb to North Goatfell and then Goatfell.  I started to feel the pace here and found it hard to push on up the ascent.  No-one seemed to be catching me though, so I got my head down and got on with the job.

At the summit, I was feeling very tired but glad I only had the rocky descent down the tourist path to go.  I looked back and saw Ellie a couple of minutes back, which was a pain since I couldn’t relax and cruise down to the finish.  Off I went and almost immediately turned my bad right ankle again.  I stopped and assessed the damage - not too bad it seemed, after the initial shock - so I took some painkillers and continued.  Almost immediately, another runner passed me, pushing me into 12th.  I hadn’t seen this fella apart from near the bottom of Cir Mhor, so he must have save the best for last, whilst I was tiring.

I couldn’t keep with him, so there I just concentrated on keeping Ellie at bay.  The path is notorious for hill runners taking falls, so I had to keep what little wits I had left, about me.  Soon enough, the path hit the burn and forked into the forest and easier running.  Ten minutes later, and I hit the field and the end and was done - 12th place in a bit over 3:25, which was more or less on target (though I’d had a fantasy time a bit quicker!).

I feel like a ran better for longer and made a race of it, despite there not being many people to run against.  My % of winner time was much more respectable and I didn’t die a death.  Russell ran very well for 4th place and I had a good time, chatting with other folks, particularly the super-friendly Westies and Carnethies, on the ferry over and back.  Good times.

I ran my third long hill race of the year yesterday, over the two Loch Lochy Munros north of Fort William. This was the first running of the race, over hills that I hadn’t climbed before (Meall na Teanga and Sron a’ Choire Ghairbh), which was part of the attraction.

Unfortunately, it’s a fair drive to Loch Lochy from the Borders and none of my clubmates were coming for the trip. I didn’t fancy driving up there alone, so I was lucky to find a couple of chaps from the Edinburgh clubs who needed a ride (Mark from HBT and Andy from Carnethy, both much quicker than I am).

The race HQ was based in a private estate, called Achnacarry, which was very pleasant. The start itself was a kilometre or so up the road at a beautiful waterfall (a registered wedding spot, apparently). There were 57 runners in the race and we made a lovely meal for the midges as we waited to begin, which made the surroundings a little less endearing.

We were underway soon enough, along the road for a few hundred metres and then we turned up a forest track. This would be my third hill race in 7 days, after Yetholm and Cort-ma Law, so I figured I’d be tired and would be conservative for the first few miles. I had a small group of decent runners (including Don Reid and Kate Jenkins) in my sights all the way up the track until we entered the forest and the track turned into a narrower path (which would make great mountain biking), which included a tricky, stony downhill section.

After a short while, we came into a big wide glen and started to run in the open, on rough, slightly boggy ground. The sun came out here and I began to realise that I was not just tired but very tired. I didn’t really have the ability to pick up the pace, so I decided to take it easy and not break myself, treating the race as a training run in beautiful surroundings. The race had strung out here and we started up a steep ascent to the first munro summit. I could still see a lot of runners ahead of me but I didn’t make any headway - I’m usually pretty quick at steep, walkable ascents, given my long legs (the only advantage my size gives me). My shoes have started to blister my heels too, which made the climb a bit unpleasant. It’s certainly a beautiful, remote place but the sweat in my eyes stopped me from enjoying it too much.

The first summit appeared through the mist and we turned and barreled down a steep, runnable descent to the bealach under the next hill. Once we started to climb again my legs felt completely dead - I still haven’t gotten used to the transitions between running up and down hill. Five minutes later, my legs were back and I got myself up and over the second summit. Another short descent and a nice wee climb up to a lower hill and then there was a flatter section before the final descent to the forest for the long run back to the road.  Looking at the final results, the runner I chased down to the col, put 12 minutes into me over the second half of the race - so I think I must have just gotten slower and slower.  I lost 3 or 4 minutes on the runner ahead of me in the last 30 minutes of running.
The descent was tough on my legs and I was feeling very tired here. I managed to keep a reasonable pace up on the run out but it wouldn’t matter much, I wasn’t catching the runner in front and the runner behind seemed to be struggling too, so I kept it moving without killing myself.

I finished in about 3:07, with the winning time of 2:06, so I was very slow. I had been hoping to get well under 3 hours but my legs were shot at after some hard training and racing. This week, I’ll run intervals and spend some extra time on the bike instead of running a lot before the Glen Rosa Horseshoe race.

The Campsie Fells are a range of hills in central Scotland, popular with Glaswegians, less so with those of us (like me) from the East (who use the Pentlands instead).

So, last night, I raced (again) over a hill called Cort-ma Law, and took my first trip to the Campsies.  The weather was good for running, dry, with a cool breeze.  I travelled up with Russell and James after work and it made a grand wee trip - decent car conversation, race in the middle, meet a few folks, chip supper on the way home.

My right leg has been more or less seized since Yetholm with a tight calf and a wee tear in the quad.  I’ve also got a very unpleasant blister on my right heel (I believe the blister and the bad leg are related).  So, I probably shouldn’t have raced but I’m not so sensible.  In the end, my leg was fine and it’s even feeling better now, the day after.

Cort-ma Law starts with a steep pull up onto an undulating ridge to the hilltop, before turning north and running over boggy ground to another hill, Lecket, then descending steep, tussocky ground to an awkward set of burn crossings, another steep pull, back onto the undulations and then back down the quick and potentially hazardous decent to the line.

I decided to further my race experimentations by taking it fairly easy on the first climb and not to go off hard and pay for it later.  This was accomplished and I kept the pace low and managed not to get the debilitating feeling in my legs when I had to start running hard again.  However, after 15 minutes, I started to feel good, so i picked up the pace but it didn’t last long and I started blowing all too soon.

I felt heavy on the mid-section of the race over the boggy ground (which was fairly dry, it’d be hideous in the rain) and lost a couple of places.  However, I was determined to try to descend better and I feel that I managed that - I kept the group I was pursuing in my sights all the way down the first, tough descent, over the kind of tussocky, uneven ground that I would normally struggle over.  I even managed a very nice barrel roll when I put my left foot in a hole.

Steep climbs aren’t a problem for me, it’s the only time I tend not to lose places, so I kept the pace up and then tried to stay strong on the drag back to the last descent.  I had someone breathing down my neck here and a couple of runners in my sights, so I tried manfully to keep the pace up here.  A final, mad rush to the line with 4 of us crossing more or less together - by this time, I was moving full pelt and I almost lost it 2 yards from the end when my leg buckled but I held it together.

I missed my sub-hour target by a minute or so, which was a shame, but I don’t really have the fitness right now.  I’m running fine, just not brilliantly.  Hopefully, in a month or so, I’ll have picked up when I have a bit more hard running in my legs.

After a wee hiatus after Jura, to let my ankle settle and to let my body recover a bit, I raced again today. This time, it was a much smaller race in the Borders at Yetholm, which is the northern terminus of the Pennine Way. Indeed, part of the route ran along the end of the Way, straddling the border of Scotland with England.

Most of the active members of the club were out today. Out of 45 runners, there were 9 of us (Darin, Mike, Wull, Russell, Kenny, myself, Julia, Steve and Dave) - we outnumbered every club there, even the organising club, by quite a margin. It’s a great club to be part of - there’s some great runners in there and everyone is friendly and there’s a bit of banter, which suits me.

I haven’t run much in the last couple of weeks. When I ran last weekend, we were in the middle of a heatwave and my body rebelled - I can’t run in the sun until I’ve acclimated (which is hard when we only get a few such days every summer). I knocked the running on the head until yesterday, when I had a wee blast round the forest and found my legs in decent nick, so I thought I’d give it a wee go today.

So, I kept the pace up on the first hill, hovering around just after the top ten (5 of which were Moorfoots). That climb was tough to start with - steep and uneven. I was blowing out my backside by the time I hit the top, trying to keep pace with some better runners. In retrospect, hitting the first hill so hard was a mistake since I couldn’t get my breath back for the rest of the race it seemed. Still, I gave it a go and didn’t really slow much, so maybe I just am not fit enough.

The route is very good - pretty runnable and with decent terrain. There was a bit climb in the middle which slowed down proceedings but it was over in 15 minutes and the run back to the finish was predominantly downhill. I couldn’t catch anyone after the last ascent, so I made sure I wasn’t going to be caught and then cruised back to the end.

The club did well. We had 7 runners in the first 19 (I was 18th) and several placings - 3rd, 6th, 7th and 10th; first senior, first V50; first senior lady and first team. I ran more or less to target and didn’t kill myself or turn my ankle, which is a bonus. I could have paced myself better and I never felt comfortable, but I don’t think you are supposed to.

Next week, Loch Lochy.

Normally, for 95% of races or events I rope myself into, I go on my own, rather than drag Becky and the girls along with me.  Jura is a long way from the world though, so we decided to have a wee holiday there to coincide with the race.

The default choice for Jura is to camp in the field by the Jura Hotel.  The main problem with that, for us, is that Becky has never been camping before, I’m used to camping on my own and don’t have family camping gear (including a decent sized tent) and the Emily and Esme haven’t experienced sleeping in a tent and they are still quite young for camping.

We had borrowed a tent from a friend but discovered just before we were to go, that it was going to be far too big for the small camping field, so we managed to procure a smaller family tent at the last minute from a neighbour.  My plan is to buy a tent before the next trip, whenever that is to be.  Becky managed to get hold of everything else we needed, that I didn’t already have.

The trip to Jura is very long - it can’t be very far as the crow flies from Cardrona but to get there by car necessitates a bit of a Cook’s Tour, going to Edinburgh, then Stirling, along to Loch Lomond and up the other side before turning down to Kintyre from Arrochar.  Then, a 2+ hour ferry journey, with very excitable children who had been cooped up in a car for 4 hours, to Islay.  A bit of a wait and then another short hop to Jura and a single track road to Craighouse.  All in all, from door to door, it took about 10 hours.

The campsite was a bit empty when we got there, so we picked a spot near the sea (hoping to avoid midges as much as possible) and set up the tent.  Unfortunately, the girls were both tired and a bit hyper, so they made a bit of a racket, which was a wee bit embarrassing.  They settled down the next day but I definitely felt the weight of some stares from campers whose peace we were disturbing.  Getting the tent up was a pain, since I didn’t know how it worked and the instructions were terrible.  Luckily a fellow camper, Arthur, came to help and after a bit of trial and error, we got it up.

The first evening was a bit quiet since we were all tired and after dinner, we got the girls ready for bed, deciding to put them in the main sleeping area with us.  There was no chance that Esme would sleep though, having slept late in the car, so she was bouncing off the tent walls until well after 10.  Normally, she’d be in bed by 7 but since she had a captive audience in Mum and Dad, she made the most of the experience.  Poor Emily would have been asleep much earlier if Esme hadn’t kept her awake.  This pattern repeated the next 2 nights - Emily would be in bed before 8 but Esme took another hour or two of hyper-activity in the tent before she’d drop off.

Emily had a nightmare on the first night, which I’m sure woke everyone up at 1am but she settled down after Becky took her out into the night air, which woke her up.  For anyone reading this now, after being woken, I’ll take the opportunity to apologise.

On Friday, the weather was fine - sunny and dry - so we took a trip north along the single track road to find a beach to play on. We found a long expanse of sand a few miles up the road from Craighouse and took a wee walk along it, and a cold paddle in the sea. Unfortunately, it was a bit parky and the girls got a bit grumpy after a while, so we gave it up as a bad job and headed back to the village.

We spent lunch at the play park, which the girls loved and the sun was shining. After the play park, Becky and I relaxed into the trip and we managed to enjoy ourselves a lot more. Saturday was, unfortunately, not the best weather, so while I was racing, the girls had to put up with the drizzle. Sunday was a bit better, weather-wise, for the trip home. It’s a long way to Jura and the journey took almost 11 hours. The girls loved the ferry again but Mum and Dad were tired and had to take it in turns to entertain them.

Hopefully, we’ll get our own family tent soon, and get away somewhere northwards for another camping trip during the summer.

It took me until about an hour into the race, when I finally found checkpoint two on Glas Bheinn, for me to realise that this was going to be a long day and to throw my schedule out the window. After taking almost 30 minutes for a short 15 minute section of the course, there was no way I was going to make that time up, with the conditions as they were - wet, low cloud and high winds. It took me until the end of the race to realise, daft as it might sound, that everyone else was struggling to some extent as well.

When we arrived on the island on 2 days earlier on Thursday evening, the weather was very different - the sun was high in the sky. We could see the hills I was about to run over from the ferry to Islay and, from a different angle, the short hopper ferry to Jura. Friday was much the same - warm sun and a light breeze. More runners appeared throughout the day and I started to get the first inklings that the weather was about to take a turn for the worst. Despite years of climbing hills in terrible weather, I’m still far too optimistic when it comes down to it, so I felt confident that the conditions would be decent. I don’t mind bad weather as long as the cloud doesn’t descend too far - ultimately, wind and rain make the going slow but having to have map and compass in hand to navigate the course makes the going even slower.

Of course, on Saturday morning, the weather was dismal. There wasn’t a break in the clouds anywhere and it seemed to be lying very low, almost down to the sea. There appeared little chance of it lifting any time soon. In bad weather there is an alternative course, which avoids the higher hills but the wind wasn’t too bad, so the full course was to be run.

I had a race plan calculated which would see me get round in about 4:30 but this was ambitious anyway and impossible given the weather conditions. Unfortunately, I made my biggest mistake before the race had even started. I had brought two pairs of shoes - my Mudrocs and my Roclites, which were new. I wore the Roclites and suffered with a lack of grip all the way around the course, in the muddy conditions. The only time they were an advantage was the 30 minute run back along the road at the end of the day. I still don’t understand what I was thinking when I chose to use them.

The route to the first checkpoint drags on a bit and I tried to keep a steady pace and not to go too hard early on. The ground was very wet and I managed to get up to my knees in a bog after about 15 minutes, which wasn’t pleasant. I hit the first checkpoint on Dubh Bheinn at about 45 minutes, more or less on schedule. Then, without looking at the map, I turned and set off after the runners ahead of me, quickly losing sight of them in the mist. CP1 to CP2 is probably the hardest bit of navigation on the whole course and I should have taken the time to read the map, take a bearing and calmly make my way to the next summit. I did none of those things and blindly followed feet before realising that I was… misplaced. I came on a handful of similarly misplaced racers (including the organiser) and luckily we’d found a fence line marked on the map, which allowed us to take an accurate bearing to CP2. We’d probably dropped about 100m too far but it could have been a lot worse - I met at least one runner who got lost there and had to give up, barely an hour into the race.

The run to CP3 is pretty straightforward and there were plenty of others surrounding me at this point for me to not bother navigating. I maybe dropped a couple of minutes on schedule but I was more or less on track but of course, by this time, I had realised that this wasn’t a normal day out and aiming for a time wasn’t the point, just getting round would be a decent achievement, particularly since only a week before it seemed to be unlikely that I’d make it. The rain and wind had also picked up and forced me to put on my Goretex jacket.

I picked a bad line down to the low ground below Beinn a’ Chaolais and that cost me a few places, so I made determined efforts to keep the pressure on up the long 650m to the first Pap. I climbed pretty strongly for the entire race, only fading a bit on the last climb, when I found it tough. Again, I lost time here, probably most of it getting off Aonach Bheinn, where I struggled with my bone-headed shoe choice. The descent off a’ Chaolais was fast and furious - it’s definitely the easiest of the 3 Paps and a lot of it is scree which can be run at a fair chop if you commit to it, which I did. I was out of breath by the time I reached the col, which wasn’t ideal but I had enjoyed myself! The climb up Beinn an Oir started slowly as I was at the back of a line of runners which was moving slowly. So, grasping the nettle, I jumped the queue at an opportune moment and got ahead of them. Any sort of effort at this point was starting to hurt though and I regretted it a little when we hit a boulder field, which was very hard work. I kept a decent pace on this hill though and lost only a handful of minutes.

The descent of Oir was a bit tricky to find and involved some slow bouldery running. About halfway down, I had to leap a shallow gully and I led with my left leg and put it straight down a hole where I thought there was solid ground. I cut my knee in a couple of places and worse, I pranged my damaged left ankle again. For a short time, I thought that the game was up and I’d have to limp back down to the road but I took some painkillers and walked it off for a few minutes - by the time of the next climb, it had settled down a bit. I’d definitely lost some momentum though and the last big climb up the final Pap was a bit of a toil and I seemed to be on my own for most of it.

The descent off that last Pap is brutal. The course takes you away from the last top, Corra Bheinn, to avoid some very steep, dangerous ground and it crossed a very slippery, awkward boulder field, which I had to traverse most of using my hands. Then, we hit a muddy path, but my Roclites wouldn’t let me run it at pace and my left ankle was giving me trouble, so I slowed down quite a bit here. By the time I got to the top of Corra Bheinn, I’d lost another 16 minutes on the fast schedule.

Of course, it’s pointless to compare times against my plan but it will hopefully be of use for me to take a look at next year when I try to improve. Certainly, it will be useful to see that of the 63 minutes that I lost, 28 of them were on 2 short legs - from CP1 to CP2 (navigation) and from CP6 to CP7 (injury, shoes). Those legs were scheduled to take 46 minutes and actually took 74. Against that, I lost 24 minutes on schedule for the traverse of the 3 Paps which make up the bulk of the hard work.

The last 5 miles are theoretically a lot easier that the first 11 but unfortunately, by the time you get to them, there is little likelihood of enjoying them. There is a long, numbing descent to the road, on rough, tussocky ground which gives way to one of the boggiest “paths” I’ve ever run on - it was ankle deep mud for most of the way. I kept the pace up here though and it’s useful to note that I ran more or less to plan. In drier years, I’ll be able to make up time here. The last 3 miles are on the road and I started fairly well but my heavy pack was bouncing a bit too much and if I cinched up the waist belt, my stomach muscles started to rebel, so I had to give in a bit with about a mile to go and I was forced down to about 9 minute miles and lost a couple of places. Luckily, I gained another close to the line, which meant I finished in 5:33 for 99th place.

In retrospect, I made a couple of rookie errors - shoes, navigation - and didn’t have quite the fitness I needed after a poor April and May and a dodgy ankle. However, I’m pleased with my efforts - I got round in one piece, my ankle more or less held out (though it’s swollen up again now, understandably) and my endurance lasted for most of the course, only letting me down over Shiantaidh and Corra Bheinn after I’d stacked my leg in a hole. Times were universally slow this year - the winning time was 40 minutes down on 2008 for both men and women, only 2 runners went under 4 hours compared to 26 last year and there were a fair number of DNSs, DNFs and timeouts, along with quite a few people who got lost.

I’ll definitely be back next year to try to get under 4:30 (or better). Now I have a wee rest to rehab my ankle (again) and then it’s Yetholm, Loch Lochy and Glen Rosa in June.

I sprained my ankle at Ben Lomond last weekend and it has turned out to be a bit worse than I feared. I had hoped it would be ok for Gypsy Glen, a hill race local to Tweeddale, but there was no chance of running there. I think I have a grade I sprain, since I could bear weight on my foot straight away, but since I kept running on it at the race, I must have made the swelling worse. I couldn’t get the swelling to go down, particularly since I had to go to work (back on the bus, no cycling or running in), which meant being on my feet and not being able to keep my ankle elevated and iced.

So, I resorted to the wonderful Internet to find ways to improve my rehab time. The problem I have now is getting my ankle ready for the Isle of Jura Hill Race a week today. Unfortunately, there now seems little likelihood that I’ll be ready but I need to give myself a chance.

By the end of this week, the swelling had reduced a bit but not enough to do any rehab on the ankle, so I found a programme which I hope will work. Job 1 - lose the swelling. This meant doing a very odd exercise which used my body’s natural processes to get rid of it. Off to the gym, I had to immerse my foot in ice for 15 minutes (excruciatingly painful) and then walk backwards on the treadmill at a 8% gradient for 15 minutes, which pumped the excess blood away from my ankle. I repeated this 4 times and by the end, the swelling was much reduced. Well worth the pain and the funny looks in the gym.

Rehab started in anger today. I have a wobble board which I’m using to stretch and strengthen the ligaments and I’m working on my balance. The pain has mostly gone but the ankle is stiff. I ran for a couple of miles on the road this morning with no ill effects. I need to keep working on improving my range of motion and strengthening the ankle for the rest of the week (and beyond), as well as working the right ankle (my weaker one) at the same time.

I am doubtful about Jura, although we are still going for the trip with the girls. Still, I’m going to give myself a chance and make a decision when I get to the island. If I don’t make it, it won’t be the end of the world, although I’ll be disappointed. I’ll race Loch Lochy and/or Arrochar in June to make up for it.

Another weekend, another hill race - the last major hill race for me before Jura in a couple of weeks. I’m very conscious that so far, I’ve had pretty poor results in the Scottish hill races I’ve competed in this year. I did reasonably at the Moelwyns race but that was sandwiched by Clachnaben, where I was ill, and Stuc a’ Chroin, which I screwed up by running too hard too early.

So, my pre-race target for Ben Lomond, of 1:30, was wildly out of line with those results. At Clachnaben and Stuc, I’ve been around 150% of the winning time, which had something to do with the fact that those races were championship races, and a lot to do with my poor running. A 1:30 run at Lomond would be closer to 125% of the winner, which seemed a bit optimistic. Still, I was confident of doing better - my running has improved steadily again since I’ve gotten over my illness.

The weather was a bit miserable - cold (for May) and wet. The top of the Ben was in the clouds and it had been snowing steadily higher up. This suited me, since I prefer the cold and don’t mind bad weather - I put a long sleeved top on under my vest but a lot of runners were in waterproofs. I would be soaked wet through after 10 minutes. The weather obviously didn’t suit a lot of people since around a third of the field either didn’t start or didn’t finish. I kept my speed in check early on to avoid blowing up later and once out of the trees, I started to move up the field, simply by keeping my pace steady and closing gaps when others let them go.

The course is straightforward, more or less straight up and then straight down. We detoured off the path in a few places, which I found harder going but where we were on the track, I managed to keep running rather than walking. Towards the top, the track eases off a bit and I ran this hard - I had to put my hat on here since it had started to snow and the wind was driving it into my freshly shaved head. Soon enough, I was on the tough uphill section to the summit, which avoided the zig zag path. There was a lot of snow on the summit but I had my Mudclaws on and it wasn’t slippy. I started down after less than a hour, which I hoped gave me a chance of hitting my target. I seemed to be quite far up the field.

Downhill running isn’t a strength of mine, with my weak right ankle but I can run down a track fairly quickly and I managed to overtake a few runners and hold others at bay. Before the race, I’d been warned that the track is treacherous and I kept telling myself to be careful, even as I was careering down the slope. Sure enough, I still fell twice - once I tripped on a rock and just managed to save myself and I slipped on a muddy section and did a very well executed barrel roll down the slope.

There were a couple of sections off the path that I couldn’t run hard because they were too uneven but my legs still felt good and I didn’t slow too much. Soon, I was back in the trees and had only been overtaken by a couple of runners all the way down, whilst overtaking several myself. Just the rocky steps to negotiate. Unfortunately, I turned my left ankle (my good one) on one of those steps - I’ve no idea why - which slowed me down due to the pain. At this point, another couple of runners came past and I was powerless to keep with them with my ankle screaming at me.

Then, i was onto the last section of road, a smile for the camera, and through the finishing line. A look at my watch - 1:30:53. Amazing, considering the conditions. Finally, I had had a strong race. This would be good enough for 34th place, of 120 finishers, a lot better than previous races and it gives me confidence for Jura. I finished in front of many people who had been well ahead of me before and I was much closer to the fast guys.

My ankle swelled to be 4 times its normal size and now, a day later, it still hurts. Hopefully, it’ll be fine by Gypsy Glen.

About 25 folks at my work had entered this race, most of them non-runners, so I thought I’d get in on the action and see if I could improve upon my 2 previous attempts.

Unfortunately, my big target for the year was to complete the Long Classics series of Scottish hill races, and the first of those was the day before the 10k.

So, I decided to wait until the morning of the race to decide if I was up to it. Luckily (I think), I didn’t feel too bad on Sunday morning, so we all drove into Edinburgh and made our way to the play park at the Meadows, where the girls played while I warmed up.

I jogged up to the start, saw a few work folks and got myself up to the front, in order to be in front of the masses when we hit the choke point through Prince’s Street Gardens. This also meant that I was on TV (hello Mum!) because the race was live on Five and I was right behind the elite men when the race started, and I was wearing my Moorfoots vest which is pretty noticeable.

I got off to a quick start to get my legs moving and tried to relax into it. A couple of people from work caught me at the foot of the climb through Holyrood Park, so I settled in behind them. The climb through the park is long and draggy for a road race but compared to a hill race, it’s nothing, so I kept up the pace pretty well.

The half way mark came at 20:25 for me, which meant that I was running well, if not brilliantly, I just had to make sure not to die a death (like the day before), so I kept it all steady and then concentrated on form through the tricky bits at Cowgate and the Grassmarket, when there was a headwind and a couple of short, sharp rises. Through the Meadows, there were a few people there that knew me, which was nice, including Becky and the girls - I got a nice shout for “Daddy” from Emily, so I kept the pace on and pushed on.

The last kilometre was a drag up to Potterrow, with another wee headwind - I didn’t feel like pushing the boat out, so I just ran normally through the finish, for a final time of 41:24 and a top 200 finish (out of 7800 starters). Can’t complain about that. I was fourth finisher from the work contingent too, out of 24 starters, not too far from the “winner”, who went about 30 seconds faster. Not an amazing time, but a PB (I’ve not run too many 10k races though) and close enough to 40 minutes to help me realise I can get under that barrier if I commit to it.

All that, and we were still only at about 11am, so I went back to the play park, met the girls and wandered up to the Commonwealth Pool with Emily on my shoulders so the 4 of us could play at Clambers and have lunch.