Runs Writes Code

Hill of Tarvit Tarvit Mansion House and the summit of the hill! Photo: Vicki Charlton The last time I was at the Hill of Tarvit I had just started another round of intensive treatment at Ninewells for mastocytosis and had a pretty awful run. The treatment makes my mast cells much more unstable for a few weeks before building up to a massive improvement. I'm taking three days off for the Tour and hope to say goodbye to the fab team of nurses at Ninewells next week! So, I was nervous... Wasp Watch Photo: Ethan Lee I was particularly nervous about the presence of a wasp on the start line (I'm allergic to the little psychos). Unlike the beach race I didn't immediately get into a comfortable rhythm and on my shoulder Alison was running really well. Alison is a superb hill runner so I tried to get a bit of ground as the course looped through the woods around the golf course at Tarvit Mansion House. All too soon we hit the stile and headed onto the rough grass hil

Tour of Fife: Chariots of Fire 4.2M beach race West Sands sunrise I've watched the winter sun rise over this beach more times than I can remember. I've run up it with a following wind and returned into headwinds so strong it felt like a great sandy treadmill and I've run down it on still days smiling at the Oyster Catchers dancing in the shallows on their ballerina legs. West Sands feels like home. I was happy to see the forecast was for a rare northerly wind, making the race tactical but not stressful. At the start line some of the contenders in the women's race were joking with John Mill that we were going to tuck in behind him. He runs at pretty much the lead lady pace so I think he's getting used to us! Start line. Photo: Harry Mitchell When I was warming up my breathing didn't feel right and I'd felt sluggish all day but the second the race started I felt good. I was feeling very comfortable and quickly had to make a decision about which g

I am lost to the actualities that surround me, and my whole being expands into the infinite; earth and air, nature and art, all swell up into eternity, and the only sensible impression left is, “that I am nothing!” Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Lecture 2, 219 You hear people say that ultra running changes you. My first ultra was awesome and introduced me to the intense connection with the natural world that comes from running through it for several hours. It stills the mind and settles the soul, but I didn’t feel like I emerged a different person. The second one broke me into tiny pieces and showed me I was braver - or stupider - than I thought.  The relaxed start of the Kintyre Way (to my left Stan Topalian who broke the men's CR, far right William Robertson - the other vegan in the top 4!) The Kintyre Way is a tough ultra. I knew that. I had seen the course profile and read a couple of blogs. So bearing this in mind I approached the first 1,000ft climb at a suicidal pa

Tick is a humble genesis, tock a feeble apocalypse. 1 For several months last year the only mast cell stabiliser that is effective for mastocytosis was out of production and I had a reminder of how bad my condition could be. Instantly returning me to the time when I had been too unwell to run. But back then my running had been taken away gradually and not suddenly, all at once. Back on the ketotifen the condition settled and I felt good again. I went on to have my best ever cross country season, gaining my first Scotland East vest and finishing in the top 20 at the Scottish National Cross Country Championships. But in the back of my mind a faceless clock had started ticking, counting down the time I had left to run. I’ve read every journal article on mastocytosis I can get my hands on - I work in a university so that’s quite a lot - but ‘little is known about specific prognostic factors predicting the outcome in individual patients’. 1 There is no way to predict how long