Runs Writes Code

Relatively new to ultra running, I hadn't planned to move up to longer ultras so soon, but these things happen. The plan was to run the Fling, which covered the first 53 miles and then recce the second half. The Fling ended up being more recce than race as I went down with a cold. I then recced the second half of the route over two days, during a heat wave: West Highland Way recce - Rannoch Moor from Sophie Mullins on Vimeo . For the full West Highland Way I had two race plans. One was the Perfect Day Plan; the plan we would follow if everything went to plan. The other was simple: finish, preferably under 20 hours. We registered early and then went back to the AirBnB to rest. I couldn't sleep but lay with my eyes closed listening to an audiobook. I got up at 11 pm and got the last few things together. Just after midnight we headed back to the station. I was feeling excited more than anything - and a bit tired after a week of broken sleep. West Highland Way race s

The Highland Fling is one of Scotland's finest ultra marathons. It follows the first section of the West Highland Way from Milngavie (pronounced 'mull guy', kind of) to Tyndrum. The terrain varies between fast forestry tracks, smooth undulating trail, technical loch-side scrambling and stony single track. It also boasts the slickest organisation, with insanely smart attention to detail, that I've ever come across at a race. After an 18 month long struggle with injuries, I was finally getting in some consistent training and at the end of last year signed up for three ultras: the D33, the Highland Fling and the West Highland Way. My training was going really well for the Fling and I even survived some short races donning my club vest for the Scottish Road Relays and then the English Road Relays. Short races off ultra training really hurt! Unfortunately, I brought a cold back from the latter two weeks before the Fling. Either that cold got worse or I picked up another

high nothing awed small by mountain peaks we find ourselves, or rather we discover what is left when we take a chisel to our own façade and chip away. not the creature we carefully curate (and learn to believe in), but what is left when we are alone, standing on a shelf in the sky, touching fear with our fingertips, breathing unshared air, senses shrilling over bare, sharp rock that promises to tear brash skin: a casual tiger bothered by a moth. it is impossible to be anywhere else: there is no future, no past to dream of, or regret. just this still moment and the keen ecstasy in knowing: 'i am nothing'

Towards the end of 2017 I quit my job, enrolled on a 16-week intensive software engineering course, and moved to Edinburgh. This meant balancing a full day of coding (learning new languages every couple of weeks), training and homework. Who hasn't got the train to Falkirk High on a Saturday morning, run 50km along the canal and then settled down with an alcohol free beer and a software assignment in the afternoon? Totally normal Saturday. I have had to be pretty flexible with my training to fit everything in, especially after I noticed that my early morning runs were getting slower and slower. My body simply wasn't up for crawling out of bed and going straight out in -5. I thought about what I was getting out of it and decided to shift most of my training to what I could grab at lunchtime and more structured evening sessions (returning to homework afterwards). I didn't get up to 100k-weeks until Christmas and have only had a couple of 70 mile weeks in 2018. Despite this t