Have you got a signal?: Tynecastle Bronze - Seven (plus Five) Hills of Edinburgh

My hip has been feeling better this week. I managed a very gentle solo 8 miles on Monday, a faster 10 mile club run on Tuesday, and a tough club interval session on Thursday. For one reason or another I haven't been to an interval session for over 5 weeks, and it showed. But the hip held up without pain, even if it feels like there is bubble wrap sitting over the point of the bone.

So the obvious thing to do was subject it to a 30 mile run on Saturday.

The reason being that I hadn't yet done my "Tynecastle Bronze" run for May, and the deadline was the 27th. The handful of regular readers I have will probably know what TB is about, but I'll explain on the off chance I've broken the American market. It was cooked up by Porty's Graham H as a tribute to the fallen of the Great War, and in particular to the Hearts players who signed up for McCrae's Battalion. The idea, in its purest form, is to do at least one 30 mile run each month for the entire duration of the war, 100 years hence. And the route has to take in at least one war memorial, no repeats allowed. Recent amendments have been made to the rules to allow sufficiently long cycles, etc, but I'm sticking with running for the time being. I came to it a little late in December, while the founder members have been at it since August 2014. The months run from the 28th (war having been declared by the Austro-Hungarians on 28 July 1914) to the 27th. Oh, and it's named "Tynecastle Bronze" because Hearts unveiled a plaque to the players on the wall of the stadium back in September 2013, and Graham is a big Hearts fan.

So time running out, coupled with a decent forecast, forced my hand. With the Seven Hills of Edinburgh race coming up, and because I had to drive into town anyway to drop Eldest Daughter at the airport (stealing Jo's joke: she's France's problem now), I thought it would be a good opportunity to recce the course. I had an idea that it might be fun to run it once in the correct (anti-clockwise) direction, and then do it backwards (i.e. clockwise) on a second lap. It has struck me for some time that leaving Arthur's Seat until very near the end is pretty sadistic, and it might be better to get it out of the way when you're still fresh.

An attempt to rope in others on Facebook brought no joy, due to a combination of weddings, holiday weekend trips, and tapering for the EMF. So I parked up at Holyrood and set off on my own. It was already warm at 10:30, so I was glad that I'd brimmed my hydration bladder. I'd also managed to borrow Youngest Daughter's iPhone, so that I could take some pictures. As you'll see below, I was extremely snap-happy in the early part of the run, until I started getting dire warnings about battery life and had to become more selective.

The Seat says "Aye, bring it son"

Game face says "trepidation"

Calton Hill

North Bridge Arcade - must have been moving quicker than I thought!

Castle Hill

(adopts Freud accent) "Tell me about your Mother"...

My route was relatively standard until I got to Dean Bridge, where instead of bearing left along Belford Road to the Modern Art Galleries, I carried straight on over the bridge so that I could take in the war memorial in the grounds of Stewarts Melville College.

Probably a good idea... minx!

War Memorial in the grounds of Stewarts Melville College

And instead of going immediately back up to Ravelston Dykes, I elected to cut through the lower streets before cutting up across the Mary Erskine's playing fields, and onwards towards Corstorphine Hill.

Following Club advice, I coasted the bend...

Don't mind if I do (Corstorphine Hill)

As the optimal 7 Hills route (or at least the best that I have found) is around 14.2 miles, I was in two minds about taking some of the more extreme shortcuts - I needed a little extra distance to take me over 30 miles, and certainly didn't need any new injuries. But I scrambled up the steep bank behind Craiglockhart Sports Centre anyway. It is very dry at present and has a large number of beech nut shells, so is rather slippery - there was plenty of use of hands and tree roots. I paused at the top of the hill for a breather, an oatcake, and a decent slug of water.

View from East Craiglockhart back towards Corstorphine - complete with aeroplane vapour hashtag

I took the alley up from Greenbank Drive, and then Fly Walk down into Braidburn Park, but managed to foul up on the exit and took the wrong road up to Braid Road. I took Riselaw Place instead of Riselaw Road, which meant I had to double back on myself. An error to try to avoid on the day.

"Aye, ah'm no goin' anywhere pal"

The Pentlands look inviting, but much too high for today's business

Braids

The run off of the Braids down towards Blackford is always good fun, and I tried to remember the line to the left that Pete B had showed me from the foot of the Lang Linn Path. I think it involves a scramble down a steep bank and wet feet, but I elected to stick to paths and the bridge. No need for any heroics today. I did scramble up the bank on the other side though, before the hellish slog up the sleeper steps. I then swithered about following the path at the top, but plumped for the more direct fence line beside the radio mast, which thankfully had fewer nettles than I feared.

Blackford Hill

Instead of going towards Mayfield via the allotments (the gate to which would likely be locked) I headed right towards Kings Buildings and cut down through the side streets before the Harley Davidson tractor shop. I didn't bother with the short cut through Pollock Halls, and instead ran up and around the Commie - the climb over the turnstile gate not proving a big draw.

The climb up Arthur's Seat started ok, but I didn't bear far enough to the left near the top and ended up following the tourist path round to the right. Another wrinkle to iron out on the day. The last stretch up to the summit was hoaching and, in full-on head-down stomp mode, I had to take care not to ram my head up the arse of an unsuspecting tourist.

Sitting at the foot of the trig point, it is fair to say that I was pretty knackered, and the thought of going to Calton Hill only to turn round and come straight back up again was not at all appealing - you can sod your Grand Old Duke of York. I started thinking that I'd perhaps done enough hills for the day and that a gentle run along Porty Prom out towards Musselburgh might make for a better second half.

Nick 1, The Seat 0 (tourists about 3,492)

Hmm, Porty Prom looks flat...

Actually, the score might be Nick 1, The Seat 0.5

So it was a huge stroke of fortune when, on my way down, I heard a cry of "is that Nick? It is Nick!" from Kathy H, who was out with Graeme. They were midway through their own recce, having started from Liberton. The prospect of some good company was like a "will power transfusion" and made for a relatively easy decision - "Let's Go Round Again", as the Average White Band sang.

The Cavalry

"Maybe we should ditch the joker in the yellow jersey?"

"Improved Spirits"

A German tourist (a possible descendant of a Coalition member soldier?) takes a photo of a Napoleonic War Memorial (on Kathy's camera)

While a second lap might have been a little dull, I now had chat to divert me, and the deviation from the norm on the first lap meant that I wasn't covering exactly the same ground - Kathy and Graeme were taking the racing line.

The Ministry of Silly Walks
(photo: Kathy)

Corstorphine Hill (again)

By this point it had become properly warm, so I had to make a stop at the Tesco at Stenhouse to buy a couple of bottles to dump into my now dry hydration bladder - thirsty work!

The scramble at the back of Craiglockhart Sports Centre - part 2

Graeme gathers himself for his big crescendo (and obligatory diva air-grab) while I provide percussive support
(photo: Kathy)

East Craiglockhart - part 2

"Are ye still feelin' strong Wee Man?"

Braids - part 2 - recumbent
(photo: Kathy)

Having completed their 7 Hills at the Braids, Kathy and Graeme said that they were going to head back home along Braid Hills Road. At 25 miles into my run, I elected to join them rather than have to suffer Blackford Hill and Arthur's Seat again. I bid them farewell at the driving range and stables, and made my own way down Alnwickhill Road before heading via Cameron Toll back up Dalkeith Road towards the Commie and Holyrood Park. A nice gentle run down Queens Drive brought me back to the car park just after the watch had ticked over 30 miles. Perfect!