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Westhighland Way Race Report
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29-06-2009 12:13pm#1This is my attempt at summarising the best moment of my running career to date, The Westhighland Way Race 2009. Like the race itself it’s long, rambling and at times doesn’t make much sense but if it inspires just one person to do this race or something similar then it’s fulfilled it’s purpose.
It was with a mixture of exhilaration, expectation and fear that I drove to my parents house on Wednesday night. Thursday morning we would be traveling to Scotland in preparation for the Westhighland Way Race 2009. This was to be my second attempt after DNFing 60 miles in to the 2008 race so I had unfinished business hanging over me for the last year.
The journey over was uneventful and on Thursday evening I was my usual grumpy pre race self, snapping at my parents and just about managing not to drive them to abandon me minus support crew. I woke up on Friday morning at 5 am having dreamt I’d gotten lost during the race, been helped back on course by a man in a bi-plane but ended up on Stephen’s Green in the end. Not great preparation really. Friday I was nervy again but the fact it’s next to impossible to find glucose powder in Glasgow proved a great distraction and I went to my hotel room round 4 happy that I didn’t have to leave for the race start until around 10.30 at the earliest. I managed an hours sleep in that time which added to the 5 I’d had the previous night gave a grand total of 6 in the 41 hours leading to the race.
We got to the race start at Milngavie train station and as soon as I walked into the hall for registration I felt a weight lift from my shoulders. I’d completed the 1st task of the race, made it to the start intact, uninjured and in a positive frame of mind.
Bumped into a few people I met previously, checked the gear one more time, hugged my parents, stood at the start of the freak show, sorry race, and off we went. What a great feeling to be running into the night with 140 others who share your fears, anxieties and above all hopes. The start of another episode of a great race, happy days.
First while was uneventful, ran a bit quick doing 6 miles in the first hour as opposed to the 5 planned, took a tumble on some boards over a boggy patch which reminded me to sit in and go easy, this was a 95 mile race after all, not a sprint. For this first while I ran with Soren Hahn. A German friend who used to live in Ireland and now lives in Glasgow. At around 3.30 or 4 in the morning we switched off our head torches. Loch Lomond was starting to come into view as was Conic Hill, the first real climb of the race. We sat in and took it nice and easy over Conic, the descent catches lots of people out however and Soren tweaked an injury which first flared up for him about 6 weeks ago, it was to see him retire from the race not much later sadly.
Got into Balmaha and met my support crew who were in good spirits. I had my camelback topped up and applied some more cornflour to my feet. When I went to find Soren to see if he was ready to carry on he said he was waiting a while longer so I carried on without him. I met a lady I’d remembered from last years race at this point and we spent the next few hours running together which was a great help. Next support point is Balmaha before the journey along the shore of Loch Lomond which is very tough on body and mind so it helps to make Balmaha a breakfast stop, get some warm food in, change clothes and set off feeling as well as possible. Had some soup and was in and out of the stop in about 11 minutes, feeling good as I set off to face into a 20 mile section without seeing my support crew.
I ran the entire section with Ellen, a lady who’s run the race several times and who with her husband organise another race on the route, The Highland Fling. It covers the southern 53 miles of the way. Initially it started out as a training run for Ellen but has snowballed in the space of a few years into a race with a couple of hundred entrants. Having Ellen around was great for the slog along the Loch, it’s very uneven terrain and a lot of time is spent scrambling over and around boulders so progress is slow and frustrating. It was around here that I started to feel some hot patches on my feet, oh oh, best have them seen to soon!
When I next saw my support crew the sun was beaming down and I was starting to feel like I’d been on the go for a while. I changed socks and dipped the feet in the trusty cornflour, I should have applied some pre-emptive strapping but didn’t, this was to prove my downfall. Set off again, this time on my own and in the knowledge that the next time I saw my support it would be in the form of my friends Peter, Laura & Conor. From half way so long as you’re not in the 1st 10 you can have a support runner, I was looking forward to having someone to run with. My folks went back to bed at this stage for a well earned rest. When they were to see me next I’d be in very different form to the smiley happy camper they left around the 45 mile mark!
The next section is very runnable but I think is a little boring. Always seem to meet lots of hikers on this section also who offer great encouragement. I passed two hikers carrying huge back packs. One of the guys was in agony, struggling along with what he reckoned was an Achilles problem, I was thankful it was him and not me. May sound like a terrible thing to say but lesson one of ultra running is ya gotta be selfish on race day, run your own race and be thankful of everyone’s help after the fact if you can’t express it at the time.
Then I met the gang, Laura said she was going to run with me so off we went. All going fine. Into Tyndrum, meet the guys again, tell them I’ll have something warm to eat at Bridge of Orchy, 60 miles into the 95 and the next support point, then off we go. I simply detest this section. I don’t know why, I’ve ran it three times now, once training and twice racing and have never liked it. It’s not particularly tough but I think it’s just at a point in the race where you’re tiring. With about 1.5 miles to go to the BoO I felt a shot of the most intense pain I’ve ever felt in my left little toe. Initially I thought something had pierced my shoe, then I figured it was a blister bursting. I struggled on and had a look when we got to the hotel. I didn’t like what I saw, the skin on the bottom of my toe was lifted completely in a blister. Looked at the right foot, same deal only it hadn’t burst yet. So I had to burst and drain that one and leave them to dry before putting some compeeds on.
It took about 14 hours to do the 1st 60 miles, that meant 19 for the last 35, that’s doable isn’t it? Well yes, but maybe not on these feet. What if the weather breaks? Mentally am I tough enough? Do I really want to take 35 hours to do this bloody thing? These and more questions raced through my mind. It was at this very point I had dropped out last year with foot related problems. Were my weakass feet going to prove my undoing again? The pain for the next few miles was the worst I’ve ever felt. Every step was a chore. I was walking as I couldn’t push off the front of my toes, my balance was gone also and my strange new gait was playing havoc with my left shin and knee. This was not fun. There’s a tough climb out of Bridge of Orchy and as we came down the other side I could see my support crew in the distance. I sat down several times, seriously contemplating dropping out. I took 2 nurofen and a gel and made it down to the car. I took off my camelback and sat down, I didn’t want to get up for a very long time. I asked what the time was, 6. How far to the next checkpoint, 9 miles. What time is the cut off at, 9. I can’t make that! Are you mad? Oh wait, it’s actually 12. Ok, I can maybe make that. I stood up and started running, and I mean running, not just ultra shuffling. Conor ran alongside me and asked what was happening. Get my pack stocked with food, get my long ronhill pants, get a support runner, we’re going to Kingshouse! I was back, be it the drugs, be it the gel, be it the fact there was a stretch of tarmac to run on I didn’t care. I was running, uphill and I was going to finish this thing if it killed me.
Peter has the misfortune of accompanying me on this section. I was singing, original compositions no less and believe me I in no way melodic. When we got to Kings House I got a good 20 minutes rest, some hot food, changed into walking trousers as I wasn’t able to run any more, head torches on and set off with Laura for the climb over The Devil’s Staircase and the tough descent into Kinlochleven. This section was tough but enjoyable, the terrain being nasty but at least focusing the mind. When I got into Kinlochleven I was tired and sore. I saw the doctor who dressed my blisters for me, I’d a lot more now on the other toes but wasn’t even aware of them until he pointed them out. My parents were back out in Kinlochleven and were a little shocked to see the deterioration since they’d last seen me I think. Right, onwards and upwards, only 14 miles to go. But boy was it to take FOREVER!
The doc reckoned I was looking at just sub 34 hours, 1 hour under the cutoff time, that sounded like forever. I hoped it wasn’t that long, kinda like how you’re feeling reading this now! Conor came along for the next section, about 5 miles through epic scenery. He told jokes, he laughed at me, he wore tracksuit bottoms and a hoody totally inappropriate for anything but watching sports but it was all good. At the next support point Larigmor Peter took over the support duties. It was only appropriate he would finish with me, he came to Scotland last year training with me, he and Laura supported last years race attempt, they were both in South Africa in ’07 for my first ultra so there I had a good feeling setting out from larigmor with Peter, even if Laura managed to mess up and not have Pringles for me when I wanted them!
By this time I was shattered, hallucinating signs pointing to the finish and generally a grumpy f$%K. When we did eventually get within a km or 2 of the finish I had a bust up with Peter and we didn’t finish together, he was a little ahead of me staying out of earshot for both our safety. The funniest moment of the race was when I lay on the gravel fireroad on the way into Fort William and told Peter I just wanted to sleep a little, in his efforts to help me up he kicked me on the shins. I would have laughed my ass off had I the energy.
The finish was an anti climax. Dario, the race director greeted me at my arrival at the finish with some whisky. I rather ungraciously accepted then demanded to be freed from the race with the symbolic removal of my race wristband. Finally, I could stop moving, stop obsessing, stop demanding of myself and others and most importantly banish the ghost of 08s DNF. 20 months work complete. My time was 32:59:35 but that was just a number, this was a much bigger day.
Will I go back? Well before I went to bed after the race I was thinking what I’d do with the Friday’s in the coming weeks I’d booked holidays with the intention of training for the Connemara 100. 6 hours later when I awoke I was saying never say never. Saturday I spoke to a mate with whom I’m sharing support crew and planning to run with on the day. My feet are scanky but on the mend, my legs feel fresh, my mind is strong as it’s ever been and I’ve got the best support crew anyone could ask for, why in the name of all that is good and mighty wouldn’t I go back?
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Comments
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As the support runner named Peter, I'd firstly like to apologise for kicking you in the shin. It was a total accident, but I reckon you deserved it anyway. :P
Secondly, and more seriously, I'd like to say that I've never seen such determination from someone in all my life. I fully expected you to stop just after Bridge of Orchy having accompanied you on the ascent out and the subsequent descent, and there would have been no shame in doing so. I honestly have no idea where you found the energy and willpower to complete the event. Nurofen and gels only get you so far.
For me, the residing memory is you constantly thinking that you were seeing sign posts in the middle of Nevis Forest and also sitting on anything that remotely resembled a seat. I tried to block them from your view but you honed in on them as if you could smell them.
Our bust up was short-lived, thankfully
I guess when you wanted me to call the crew to drive out to double check the route for the last 2km and me then telling you that you ain't getting in the car was the straw that broke the camels back!
Nice work!0 -
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Raam: Cheers dude, you're right, nurofen and gels get you so far, self belief comes in somewhere but the support team are also vital so don't forget that you played your part in this.
GoHardOrGoHome: I hear what you're saying about Connemara, it's not far away at all but last year I lost the ground I'd made in training for the Westhighland by doing shorter races and taking too long off after it. This year I'm mentally in great shape and looking forward to training again. Plan on starting back on a schedule next week once I get a mates wedding out of the way later this week. You've gotta take these things as they come and be willing to drop out of a race or not start at all when it really doesn't make sense at all. HOWEVER these things are never going to make 100% sense so when they make any sense at all you go for it.
So I'm going for it 0 -
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Just finished your report. Great read. It sounds amazing. Sub 33! Brilliant. Your feet must be in tatters! Do you still have your toenails?jeffontour wrote: »GoHardOrGoHome: I hear what you're saying about Connemara, it's not far away at all but last year I lost the ground I'd made in training for the Westhighland by doing shorter races and taking too long off after it. This year I'm mentally in great shape and looking forward to training again. Plan on starting back on a schedule next week once I get a mates wedding out of the way later this week. You've gotta take these things as they come and be willing to drop out of a race or not start at all when it really doesn't make sense at all. HOWEVER these things are never going to make 100% sense so when they make any sense at all you go for it.
So I'm going for it
Maybe I'm too cautious. If I signed up for more events I'd probably do the training required. As you say you can make the judgement call on the day of the race or during the race but if you don't sign up then you'll always find more excuses not to do the event.
I'll bet there's some newbies reading your report in disbelief. 33 hours running! My sister has just passed the 60 minute continuous running barrier. At the moment 2 hours is beyond what she thinks she could do. To hear that somebody can run for 33 hours is just too hard to comprehend!
GoHard0 -
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