The Speyside Way Ultra
I don't think I've ever had so much fun running as I did racing the Speyside Way Ultra.
I drove up to Buckie on Thursday afternoon via Montrose (long story short: it was the nearest pharmacy stocking the mast cell stabilisers I need to run (I have mastocytosis), and I am hugely grateful to the St Andrews Boots pharmacists who found them!). It rained the entire way and was still raining when I eventually made it to Buckie. The forecast was clear for race day but my faith in the met office has been tested one too many times (I'm thinking of ending the relationship as I just can't take any more of the lies). With the already knee-deep water across the path at Aberlour, torrential rain wasn't really something to cheer about.
The Rosemount Guesthouse was very comfortable though and the sea view from my room was great once the rain finally cleared! I would definitely recommend it - and early booking - it you're up for the race.
On Friday I jogged up to the school to check out where registration was and then down to recce the end of the course and to get the finish line set in my mind. I included several 80-100m efforts and a light dynamic warm up. Not a typical pre race day routine but it degranulates a few of my excess mast cells and stops my body going into recovery mode (from which it is reluctant to emerge). Also against conventional wisdom I opted for vegetable curry for lunch at the Bengal Brasserie (second on Trip Advisor) - again this was to knock out a few mast cells and take on some anti-inflammatory spices. I got 90 minutes of sleep in the afternoon, trying to make up for a week of not getting quite enough sleep for various reasons, then woke up and ate gluten free 'honey' sandwiches and raw veggies. I was trying to recreate the lead up to the London Marathon in April, and unfortunately this included an exacerbation of my arthritis. I'm wondering if my usual training lowers my immune system and reduces the symptoms, so when I taper and let my body recover the arthritis gets worse. I reminded myself that it had, in the end, not been a problem in the marathon (except for the fun of opening gels with sausage fingers). As after London, it also eased fairly quickly after the race (lending weight to my heavy-training = immunosupression theory).
I prepared my race kit (basically head to toe Salomon and Feetures socks) and drop bags then went to bed...
Race Day
Saturday morning I breakfasted on quinoa, chia seeds, beetroot juice and coconut milk before heading up to registration. Then it was on the bus to the start... I chatted with the girl next to me who I'm sure thought I was bonkers when I said I was aiming for sub-5 in my first ultra (but was too polite to say anything). In fact I did a few things that seasoned ultra runners probably thought were bonkers but were too polite to say anything about! Like a brief jog and dynamic warm up (arthritis and masto mean I can't take my body by surprise) and wearing two watches... I had one crappy old Garmin with the route on and the Forerunner 620. The first was to try to keep me on the route, but it has a history of dying, freezing and generally going on strike at inopportune moments and the second works beautifully but has no facility to preload the course route.
After the race briefing we were shepherded to the start. I positioned myself about a metre back only to find all the speedy boys lined up behind me, apparently nobody actually goes anywhere near the start line.
From the start I settled into a comfortable rhythm and the field quickly spread out. I fell into step with Steve and we ran side by side until the path narrowed then took turns - the leader taking the headwind (and the clear sight of the puddles). I was skirting or jumping the puddles from the outset as deep puddles mean debris in your shoes as well as wet feet. I wondered how long it would be before I gave up and just ran through them. The answer was 36.6 miles!
Steve said he was probably running too fast as he was using the race as a training run for a 24hr race but he stayed with me for about 8 miles, together navigating through an overgrown train station that looked like something from an 80s cartoon before he sent me ahead. I saw him again at 10.5 when I returned to the course after a brief visit to a nearby village. Luckily Crappy Garmin was on the ball and I doubled back pretty quickly. I then set off alone for the checkpoint at Craigellachie. My drop bag was sat on the wall waiting for me (I think a marshall phones the incoming race numbers through). I switched my bottles (water and Elete), drank most of the Vitacoco coconut water and grabbed the bag of gels before running off again. In the wrong direction... I was on the look out for red arrows and red/white tape so didn't bother to read the wooden signpost. After a while Crappy Garmin started wingeing about the route but I couldn't figure out if it meant turn around or veer left. I was just about to follow a path over the river (on completely the wrong track) when I heard someone shouting at me. I turned and saw Sarah Legge - Hilary's (fellow Fife AC runner) support crew - waving me back. This time I had lost considerable ground, and then lost all composure when I found out my second detour had put me into second. With some 23 miles still to run I should have just carried on and trusted that I'd catch up and regain the lead if I continued my previous pace. Instead I set off in pursuit, near to tears.
The problem was that my psychological preparation had been very black and white. Aware that if I was overtaken near the end when I was tired I might have given in, I had convinced myself that it was win or nothing. In reality I would have been happy just to finish but if I'd gone into the race with that in the forefront of my mind then it is probably what would have happened. My relatively strong marathon finishes and the training I had done (back to backs, long runs with Parkruns in the middle, and one longer-than-marathon distance run) had given me the confidence that I could do well. But the drive to win was wrapped up in a lot of emotional baggage. I have two health conditions that, though controlled at the moment, might get worse and limit or stop my racing. I don't dwell on the future but it is possible that this is my only chance at an ultra. I hope it's not, obviously, but I want to be able to sing along to my favourite Edif Piaf song forever. No regrets.
So I chased Julie up the side of Ben Aigan. Once I had regained the lead I was faced with a second problem, I needed the loo but didn't want to go into second again! By the top I was back in control of everything.
I downed a cup of water (in real life I can't do this without chocking) then set off down a steep rocky descent.
I was so happy to be back in the lead again I might have been singing. A bit. Maybe. From there almost everything was perfect. I was enjoying the scenery, the sunlight finally breaking through and throwing golden spears through the emerald trees. I really love trees so I was in my element. I was constantly making minor adjustments to my stride to land between tree roots and rocks. It was the most fun I've ever had. It reminded me of playing in the woods near my childhood home with my sister. We would build obstacles and jumps then race each other around them, darting between trees, in and out of the light.
The single track dirt path through the trees suddenly emerged at the edge of the Spey. I caught my breath at the sight. It was just so immense, so fast flowing, so awesome in its power: it was like it held a mirror up, showing you how very small you were, reminding you that it could swallow you whole. The miles ticked by. I saw a dragonfly darting in the sunlight.
I found the long road section okay, the scenery was still stunning, the sun was shining and I was where I wanted to be and feeling good. Off the main road the course diverted onto single track road where it was possible to run on the verge, this road suddenly dipped very steeply into a gully then up a series of alpine-like hairpin bends. I was still feeling comfortable and relaxed. There was a final steep climb to the second checkpoint, where once again my bag was sat waiting for me. Vitacoco again, bottles swapped and a new bag of snacks. This time the concentration of Elete in the water was stronger and I collected the bag with 1/2 a Trek Bar, a MuleBar Gel and 1/2 a pack of Clif Shot Blocs in. I knew straight away that the Trek Bar was a mistake. I had been able to eat it on training runs but the increased speed meant it wasn't happening this far into the race. So I had to recalculate how to spread out the Blocs and gel.
After the checkpoint it was back down onto a single track woodland path. I was amazed to find I was still feeling good. Really good. The miles kept ticking by. The feet kept moving. Then at mile 29 I scented the sea on the breeze and began the run for home... I ran mile 29 in 7 minutes flat and consequently nearly blew it. I didn't realise this until afterwards, I only knew that around mile 30 I was going backwards. My legs were heavy, I felt lightheaded and was convinced the game was up. I backed off the pace and took the final gel a mile earlier than planned. The words 'relentless forward progress' sat heavily on my mind. I told myself that everyone else probably felt the same and that all I had to do was keep putting one foot in front of the other. Then as fast as it had come on the heaviness and fatigue lifted - the easier pace and the gel had worked their magic. I was off again, and happy again. The path opened onto a short stretch of road with a water station at the end.
The idea of a cup of water cheered me as I only had 100ml left in my bottles and I felt great running down the road. The marshals asked how I was finding the course but I was busy downing water as fast as possible so gave them a quick thumbs up before charging off again. Then it was into the woods onto paths exactly like the bike trails in Tentsmuir where I train. I enjoyed the ups and downs, and searching ahead for a place to land as I jumped over tree roots. I had a nagging pain on the outside of my hip (the same as in London) but the rest of me felt fine. Emerging onto the railway track, which was covered in stones, I finally began to feel some stiffness in my legs but by then I could see Buckie in the distance.
At the end of the railway I looked back the 800+ metres and saw no one. It hit me that I really was going to win my first ultra.
I caught Alan Reid who looked in terrible shape as I reeled him in. He took one look at me and charged off looking strong again. Apparently the prospect of being chicked was enough to summon his reserves! I knew it was about a mile from the entrance to Buckie to the finish line. But it flew by and as I came up to the final turn and climb to the finish I started crying.
I might have set out to win but I couldn't believe I had actually done it! I crossed the line and was scooped into the arms of the Race Director, Sarah.
Terry Forrest - the male winner - said "that's how we all feel!" and when I heard how he had run the race four times before finally winning (once missing out by 2 seconds) I realised that he had gone out with the same attitude as me and had risked it all to ensure the win.
He had obliterated the course record to "leave nothing to chance". It was pretty emotional at the finish line!
Jillian Gordon, who finished 8 seconds behind me at the London Marathon, was second lady and looking very composed and strong at the end.
I can't recommend this race highly enough. Fun and varied course and superbly run: both slick and laid back. Marshals were all excellent - and I wished I'd had more time to chat with them along the way.
Meeting lots of other ultra runners, many of whom had completed the West Highland Way (95 miles!!), at the end was pretty special too. As a first introduction to the ultra community this was amazing.
Top 20 (96 finishers)
Link to my Strava race data
Quick kit review: Salomon S-Lab SG shoes and Feetures socks were 'foot perfect'. No sliding in the race, good on varied terrain and NO BLISTERS!
 |
| All photos from the Race Committee & Marshalls |
I drove up to Buckie on Thursday afternoon via Montrose (long story short: it was the nearest pharmacy stocking the mast cell stabilisers I need to run (I have mastocytosis), and I am hugely grateful to the St Andrews Boots pharmacists who found them!). It rained the entire way and was still raining when I eventually made it to Buckie. The forecast was clear for race day but my faith in the met office has been tested one too many times (I'm thinking of ending the relationship as I just can't take any more of the lies). With the already knee-deep water across the path at Aberlour, torrential rain wasn't really something to cheer about.
The Rosemount Guesthouse was very comfortable though and the sea view from my room was great once the rain finally cleared! I would definitely recommend it - and early booking - it you're up for the race.
On Friday I jogged up to the school to check out where registration was and then down to recce the end of the course and to get the finish line set in my mind. I included several 80-100m efforts and a light dynamic warm up. Not a typical pre race day routine but it degranulates a few of my excess mast cells and stops my body going into recovery mode (from which it is reluctant to emerge). Also against conventional wisdom I opted for vegetable curry for lunch at the Bengal Brasserie (second on Trip Advisor) - again this was to knock out a few mast cells and take on some anti-inflammatory spices. I got 90 minutes of sleep in the afternoon, trying to make up for a week of not getting quite enough sleep for various reasons, then woke up and ate gluten free 'honey' sandwiches and raw veggies. I was trying to recreate the lead up to the London Marathon in April, and unfortunately this included an exacerbation of my arthritis. I'm wondering if my usual training lowers my immune system and reduces the symptoms, so when I taper and let my body recover the arthritis gets worse. I reminded myself that it had, in the end, not been a problem in the marathon (except for the fun of opening gels with sausage fingers). As after London, it also eased fairly quickly after the race (lending weight to my heavy-training = immunosupression theory).
I prepared my race kit (basically head to toe Salomon and Feetures socks) and drop bags then went to bed...
Race Day
Saturday morning I breakfasted on quinoa, chia seeds, beetroot juice and coconut milk before heading up to registration. Then it was on the bus to the start... I chatted with the girl next to me who I'm sure thought I was bonkers when I said I was aiming for sub-5 in my first ultra (but was too polite to say anything). In fact I did a few things that seasoned ultra runners probably thought were bonkers but were too polite to say anything about! Like a brief jog and dynamic warm up (arthritis and masto mean I can't take my body by surprise) and wearing two watches... I had one crappy old Garmin with the route on and the Forerunner 620. The first was to try to keep me on the route, but it has a history of dying, freezing and generally going on strike at inopportune moments and the second works beautifully but has no facility to preload the course route.
After the race briefing we were shepherded to the start. I positioned myself about a metre back only to find all the speedy boys lined up behind me, apparently nobody actually goes anywhere near the start line.
From the start I settled into a comfortable rhythm and the field quickly spread out. I fell into step with Steve and we ran side by side until the path narrowed then took turns - the leader taking the headwind (and the clear sight of the puddles). I was skirting or jumping the puddles from the outset as deep puddles mean debris in your shoes as well as wet feet. I wondered how long it would be before I gave up and just ran through them. The answer was 36.6 miles!
Steve said he was probably running too fast as he was using the race as a training run for a 24hr race but he stayed with me for about 8 miles, together navigating through an overgrown train station that looked like something from an 80s cartoon before he sent me ahead. I saw him again at 10.5 when I returned to the course after a brief visit to a nearby village. Luckily Crappy Garmin was on the ball and I doubled back pretty quickly. I then set off alone for the checkpoint at Craigellachie. My drop bag was sat on the wall waiting for me (I think a marshall phones the incoming race numbers through). I switched my bottles (water and Elete), drank most of the Vitacoco coconut water and grabbed the bag of gels before running off again. In the wrong direction... I was on the look out for red arrows and red/white tape so didn't bother to read the wooden signpost. After a while Crappy Garmin started wingeing about the route but I couldn't figure out if it meant turn around or veer left. I was just about to follow a path over the river (on completely the wrong track) when I heard someone shouting at me. I turned and saw Sarah Legge - Hilary's (fellow Fife AC runner) support crew - waving me back. This time I had lost considerable ground, and then lost all composure when I found out my second detour had put me into second. With some 23 miles still to run I should have just carried on and trusted that I'd catch up and regain the lead if I continued my previous pace. Instead I set off in pursuit, near to tears.
The problem was that my psychological preparation had been very black and white. Aware that if I was overtaken near the end when I was tired I might have given in, I had convinced myself that it was win or nothing. In reality I would have been happy just to finish but if I'd gone into the race with that in the forefront of my mind then it is probably what would have happened. My relatively strong marathon finishes and the training I had done (back to backs, long runs with Parkruns in the middle, and one longer-than-marathon distance run) had given me the confidence that I could do well. But the drive to win was wrapped up in a lot of emotional baggage. I have two health conditions that, though controlled at the moment, might get worse and limit or stop my racing. I don't dwell on the future but it is possible that this is my only chance at an ultra. I hope it's not, obviously, but I want to be able to sing along to my favourite Edif Piaf song forever. No regrets.
So I chased Julie up the side of Ben Aigan. Once I had regained the lead I was faced with a second problem, I needed the loo but didn't want to go into second again! By the top I was back in control of everything.
I downed a cup of water (in real life I can't do this without chocking) then set off down a steep rocky descent.
I was so happy to be back in the lead again I might have been singing. A bit. Maybe. From there almost everything was perfect. I was enjoying the scenery, the sunlight finally breaking through and throwing golden spears through the emerald trees. I really love trees so I was in my element. I was constantly making minor adjustments to my stride to land between tree roots and rocks. It was the most fun I've ever had. It reminded me of playing in the woods near my childhood home with my sister. We would build obstacles and jumps then race each other around them, darting between trees, in and out of the light.
The single track dirt path through the trees suddenly emerged at the edge of the Spey. I caught my breath at the sight. It was just so immense, so fast flowing, so awesome in its power: it was like it held a mirror up, showing you how very small you were, reminding you that it could swallow you whole. The miles ticked by. I saw a dragonfly darting in the sunlight.
I found the long road section okay, the scenery was still stunning, the sun was shining and I was where I wanted to be and feeling good. Off the main road the course diverted onto single track road where it was possible to run on the verge, this road suddenly dipped very steeply into a gully then up a series of alpine-like hairpin bends. I was still feeling comfortable and relaxed. There was a final steep climb to the second checkpoint, where once again my bag was sat waiting for me. Vitacoco again, bottles swapped and a new bag of snacks. This time the concentration of Elete in the water was stronger and I collected the bag with 1/2 a Trek Bar, a MuleBar Gel and 1/2 a pack of Clif Shot Blocs in. I knew straight away that the Trek Bar was a mistake. I had been able to eat it on training runs but the increased speed meant it wasn't happening this far into the race. So I had to recalculate how to spread out the Blocs and gel.
After the checkpoint it was back down onto a single track woodland path. I was amazed to find I was still feeling good. Really good. The miles kept ticking by. The feet kept moving. Then at mile 29 I scented the sea on the breeze and began the run for home... I ran mile 29 in 7 minutes flat and consequently nearly blew it. I didn't realise this until afterwards, I only knew that around mile 30 I was going backwards. My legs were heavy, I felt lightheaded and was convinced the game was up. I backed off the pace and took the final gel a mile earlier than planned. The words 'relentless forward progress' sat heavily on my mind. I told myself that everyone else probably felt the same and that all I had to do was keep putting one foot in front of the other. Then as fast as it had come on the heaviness and fatigue lifted - the easier pace and the gel had worked their magic. I was off again, and happy again. The path opened onto a short stretch of road with a water station at the end.
The idea of a cup of water cheered me as I only had 100ml left in my bottles and I felt great running down the road. The marshals asked how I was finding the course but I was busy downing water as fast as possible so gave them a quick thumbs up before charging off again. Then it was into the woods onto paths exactly like the bike trails in Tentsmuir where I train. I enjoyed the ups and downs, and searching ahead for a place to land as I jumped over tree roots. I had a nagging pain on the outside of my hip (the same as in London) but the rest of me felt fine. Emerging onto the railway track, which was covered in stones, I finally began to feel some stiffness in my legs but by then I could see Buckie in the distance.
At the end of the railway I looked back the 800+ metres and saw no one. It hit me that I really was going to win my first ultra.
I caught Alan Reid who looked in terrible shape as I reeled him in. He took one look at me and charged off looking strong again. Apparently the prospect of being chicked was enough to summon his reserves! I knew it was about a mile from the entrance to Buckie to the finish line. But it flew by and as I came up to the final turn and climb to the finish I started crying.
I might have set out to win but I couldn't believe I had actually done it! I crossed the line and was scooped into the arms of the Race Director, Sarah.
Terry Forrest - the male winner - said "that's how we all feel!" and when I heard how he had run the race four times before finally winning (once missing out by 2 seconds) I realised that he had gone out with the same attitude as me and had risked it all to ensure the win.
He had obliterated the course record to "leave nothing to chance". It was pretty emotional at the finish line!
Jillian Gordon, who finished 8 seconds behind me at the London Marathon, was second lady and looking very composed and strong at the end.
I can't recommend this race highly enough. Fun and varied course and superbly run: both slick and laid back. Marshals were all excellent - and I wished I'd had more time to chat with them along the way.
Meeting lots of other ultra runners, many of whom had completed the West Highland Way (95 miles!!), at the end was pretty special too. As a first introduction to the ultra community this was amazing.
Top 20 (96 finishers)
| TERENCE FORREST | M | 4.01.42 |
| SCOTT BRADLEY | MV | 4.15.28 |
| NEIL MACNICOL | MV | 4.23.20 |
| WAYNE DASHPER | M | 4.23.35 |
| NICK RENNIE | MSV | 4.35.35 |
| ALEXANDER CHALMERS | MV | 4.47.50 |
| ALAN REID | MV | 4.49.31 |
| SOPHIE MULLINS | F | 4.49.57 |
| TOM BARR | MV | 4.56.23 |
| IVOR NORMAND | MV | 4.57.30 |
| WAYNE STOCK | MSV | 5.03.04 |
| JILLIAN GORDON | F | 5.03.20 |
| JULIE OSWALD | FV | 5.09.05 |
| COLIN MEEK | MV | 5.12.46 |
| DAVE ANDREWS | M | 5.18.40 |
| DAVID PEARKS | MV | 5.21.06 |
| LEON PROVIS | MV | 5.30.02 |
| STEVE PASCALE JONES | M | 5.34.08 |
| LORNA BROADHURST | FSV | 5.36.37 |
| LYDIA DAVIS | FV | 5.37.34 |
Link to my Strava race data
Quick kit review: Salomon S-Lab SG shoes and Feetures socks were 'foot perfect'. No sliding in the race, good on varied terrain and NO BLISTERS!
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