I’ve been feeling a bit sorry for myself recently due to a combination
of niggling injury and illness. The
niggles have been pretty much all down the backs of my legs, but shifting from
place to place depending (seemingly) on the hour of day, the wind direction, or
the phases of the moon. Strangely, I
think the cause might be that, during the recent wild weather, I took to
wearing boots to work rather than trainers and they have been pinching at my
Achilles, transmitting pain all the way up the line. But I’ve been told that you should think of
the pelvis as like a cup of water that’s full to the brim – perfect posture
means that you don’t spill a drop. I
dribble all down my front, so my hamstrings and calves are always tense. And my foam roller silently mocks me as it
gathers dust – too unpleasant to be used as often as it ought to. So there’s maybe not one single cause.
Even more difficult to pinpoint was the illness - a sudden wave of
nausea and dizziness that swept over me while sitting watching TV after
Thursday night intervals for no particular reason. Not sure what it was, but it matched a number
of the symptoms of labrynthitis and vertigo.
In any event, I spent the best part of four days in bed trying not to
move my head (so as not to disturb my overactive inner ear) before it calmed
down and I felt well enough to venture back to work. It was a full week before
I ran again, and during my enforced absence I missed the final Borders XC at
Gala.
Aside from ditching the boots in favour of trainers, I’ve signed up for
a yoga class at lunch time on a Friday.
It’s run by a lady at my work who is doing it for charity and asks only
for a £2 donation. A bargain and, based
on the single session I’ve attended, something that might deliver real benefits
– I’ve already learned one stretch that really isolates the glutes and IT band.
There is a bit of pilates thrown in as well, so I might achieve some ancillary
core strength improvement.
Anyway, on to the actual running.
Despite the Devilla Forest Trail Race on Sunday, I took up Graham’s
invitation to join one of his long expedition runs the day before. His plan was to get the train down to
Berwick-upon-Tweed and then run the Berwickshire Coastal Path back to Dunbar. Although likely to comprehensively spike my
guns for the race, most of the route would be new to me, I could really use the
miles, and I knew that I’d enjoy Graham’s “so bad it’s actually good” chat. We agreed that I’d bail early at Pease Bay
(there is a bar at the caravan park I thought I could wait in until Jo came to
collect me) having done around 28 miles, with Graham intending to push on into
the high 30s.
Graham turned all “Money Supermarket” and pointed out that a single on
the Virgin train from Dunbar would cost me the thick end of £20, whereas an
advance single from Edinburgh (i.e. twice the distance, and on the very same
train) would be only £8.80.
Bizarre. Who can fathom rail
pricing?
We arrived in England shortly before 10am, and after a couple of false
starts and dead ends around the town walls, made our way out on to the
path.
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| An interesting WM, despite no 30 miles |
As the forecast promised rain (and possibly quite a lot of it) I had
begged a loan of Jack’s GoPro with the waterproof/shockproof case. I’d used it before at the Red Moss Kips race
and on the Lairig Ghru and it had produced some decent results. Unfortunately, I think that must have been
because the light was very good for both.
The results from this run were disappointing – a lot of washed-out grey
shots that are sadly lacking in the definition I had hoped for. Some of the cliffs and rock formations along
this stretch of coastline are stunning – arches, stacks, caves, different types
and textures of rock, and improbable lines.
Not that you’d know it.
The first 13 miles ticked along pretty quickly, as it is relatively
flat and we were spurred on by the thought of a pint at Eyemouth. We also seemed to be mostly sheltered from
the wind.
There are some really odd little villages hiding under the cliffs that
I had no idea existed – most of which would be/are really easy to miss from the
A1. As Graham pointed out, if their
single track was ever to collapse into the sea, the Council might not feel
terribly motivated to replace it, and your house could come to be worth very
little if the only way in or out was by boat.
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| Downtown Burnmouth |
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| "Careful Now!" |
There was an amusing older chap in the pub at Eyemouth, who arrived at
the same time as us, and seemed to be an “experienced campaigner” well-known to
the bar staff. On overhearing that we
had come from Berwick and were planning to carry on up the coast, he simply
shook his head and stated with total assurance, “you’ll no’ manage that, it’s
really muddy”!
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| Two experienced campaigners converge on their target |
After another pint at Coldingham (which came a little quickly after
Eyemouth), we headed on to St Abbs, and the start of the more challenging
terrain. The cliffs (apparently the
second highest on the East coast of Britain) go up and down a lot more on this
section. There were some quite extreme
elevation gains and losses in quick succession.
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| St Abbs |
We passed two sets of Admiralty distance poles which mark a measured
mile, and in the past allowed shipping companies to test the speed of
ocean-going vessels. There is a plate at
the front which sits a few inches in front of a solid post. The plate has a series of circles punched out
of it. I think the ships must be in line
if the pole in question looks solid, and to one side or the other if there is a
segment of “moon” showing. The leaflet
I found online before the run doesn’t confirm this, but does state that the
Cunard liner “Mauretania” was launched in 1906 and reached 25.73 knots, making
her the largest and fastest ship in the world at the time, helping to secure
the mail contract with America for over twenty years. My aim is to educate, if not to entertain…
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| An Admiralty distance pole |
The rise to Dowlaw (at around 23 miles), and the section immediately after,
was extremely tough. Graham noted that I
went very quiet. The wind was howling
right into our faces and, into the bargain, we were treated to what was either
a hail shower or some particularly hard and dense rain. It is quite demoralising to realise that you
are the slowest man in the group, and that you are holding things up. In hindsight, I really ought to have been
able to predict that, running this distance over this terrain with Graham. He offered no complaints though, for which I
was grateful.
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| Billy Goat Gruff |
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| Gooses Gander |
I was very relieved to reach the beauty spot that is Pease Bay (dumping
a load of static caravans on it can only improve what is actually a Site of
Special Scientific Interest!), but then felt cheated when the bar was
closed. No third pint. Bah!
With Jo on her way to collect me, Graham manfully carried on for a
further 10 miles. Apparently it’s the
miles beyond 30 that really count…
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| My Rescue Party |
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I then cadged a lift the next morning from Anne and Stuart over to the
Police College at Tulliallan, for the Devilla Forest Trail Race. I’ve done this for the last couple of years
and enjoy the variation in the course.
The underfoot conditions were the most challenging I’ve seen them, with
loads of mud and large puddles. There is
a section of narrow path at around 2 miles that winds its way through the trees
along by a stream - the sort of thing you’d get at the Borders XC, where you
just take your place in the queue and hope that you don’t get too much of a
surprise from a root or rock placed right where you were about to plant your
foot. I couldn’t help but grin when
there were shrieks and gasps from those ahead, making me wonder what was to
come. At a couple of points the puddles
were very “Vicar of Dibley” – getting me wet right up to my knees.
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| (photo: Ethan Lee) |
I took a fairly conservative approach from the start line, knowing that
there was no danger of matching what was actually one of my better performances
of last year. And no hope of finishing
ahead of Stuart and James, who both had their eyes on club championship
points. I decided that treating it as a
good hard (but enjoyable) training run was the way forward. It was quite pleasing to start off steady and
build my way through the field for a change, rather than blasting off and
fading. And interesting to see how the
field ebbed and flowed around me at times depending on the terrain – I’d gain
on some folk going up hills, but lose them again on the downs. While with others my mudclaws seemed to give
me an edge on the really slippery stuff, whereas they would be faster on the
better Forestry Commission roads.
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| (photo: Gordon Donnachie) |
Down by the biggest of the lochs I was following a couple of guys, one of which was a Penicuik (Yan H) who was a real gent and called out a number of warnings to me about hazards including a big boulder and a large rabbit hole. Much appreciated.
The other guy made me laugh when we turned and made our way up a narrow path by the fenceline which was really muddy – “I’m no use at running in glue!”
At the top of that glue (the mudclaws again working well) I caught up
with the first lady – Jo from Carnegie, who I ran with for parts of the Glen
Ogle 33 last year. She was going very
well, and had built up a bit of a lead on her clubmate Kristin.
There is a “1km to go” sign on the course every year at this race that
I think is intended to provide a boost.
It has the opposite effect on me though – it always comes much later
than expected, going by what my watch is telling me.
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| (photo: Syd Woods) |
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| (photo: Ethan Lee) |
I finished around 7 minutes slower than last year, but satisfied with
the aggregate effort and distance over the weekend. Although I enjoy Devilla, it is not a
priority for this year, so I am happy to sacrifice it for miles in the bank for
the Leiden Marathon.
A number of us hung around for the prizegiving afterwards. David (running in his Jog Scotland vest)
didn’t, which was a shame as he would have received something for 5th
senior. Stuart took 1st V50,
and I was pleasantly surprised to get £20 for 5th V40 – very generous! It was good to chat after with Keith T from
Fife AC, who I met at last year’s Tour of Fife.
He had a strong run at Devilla to take 2nd V40. He seems to be in really good shape ahead of
the Boston Marathon in April, so hopefully that will go well for him.
Thanks to Anne’s driving, I was able to enjoy my bottle of Schiehallion
on the trip home – cheers!
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| Before |
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| After |
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