Tweed Valley 50k
This was the race I nearly didn't start (or finish).
"Even in the mud and scum of things, something always, always sings." - Ralph Waldo Emerson
I had booked an Enterprise Car Club car to drive down to Peebles the afternoon before the race. When I went down to the car I discovered a massive gouge in one of the tyres. I am 100% certain that the tyre would have blown had I tried to drive it to Peebles. Given how badly I had felt in the lead up I was beginning to think the whole thing was a bad idea. I was sat on the pavement close to tears while Enterprise sorted another car. I knew I would miss registration and have to register on race morning. Leaving hours after I had planned meant driving a strange car in heavy traffic in the dark, none of which seemed appealing. I arrived in Peebles stressed and with only some cold rice for dinner.
At the Lindores Guesthouse I was just checking in when I saw a little grey snout and two deep brown eyes looking around the door to the private apartment. I asked if he was allowed out and was, moments later, being licked and loved by Toby the miniature Schnauzer. He took all my stress away in an instant.
Race day
After a poor night's sleep and with increasingly uncomfortable cramps, I drove to Glentress. At registration I decided I would start, run to the bottom of the second hill (12k) and make a decision. I felt so pessimistic I nearly didn't put a bottle of Tailwind in my drop bag (as I'd not be able to get it back if I didn't get that far).
The race seemed to go off very fast, four women were grouped together, passing and being passed repeatedly on the first climb. My period cramps were strongly suggesting I go back to the car (and hot water bottle) and my lungs and legs were not enjoying the fact that the race starts uphill. Well, it's only 12k I told myself. I'll run 12k and decide.
Having struggled on the climb, I quickly found my legs again as the course levelled out and with "only 12k" in mind broke the Strava CR for the descent... oops? Although the course was very wet I had opted for a fairly new pair of La Sportiva Helios over more grippy trail or fell shoes as the race includes almost 10km of tarmac in total and the Helios are the most comfortable and efficient on that. So when I hit the riverside path I picked up the pace to around 4.20/km before steadying to 4.35. At the 12k point I was feeling okay and as I turned I saw Alison right behind me, still wearing her jacket, like she was out for an easy run. The climb up the second hill was wet and slippery but otherwise a lovely wiggly forest path with plenty of roots and puddles to skip over. I kept expecting Alison to catch me but soon there was only the squelching of my own footsteps.
The second of the smaller hills, this climb had an alpine feel with little switchbacks, but at only 330m (from about 130m) it was over almost as soon as it had started. I was finally feeling good. Rachel (Normand, last year's winner) had promised me I would love the descent through Cadrona forest and I could see what she meant but the conditions this year saw us all sliding down through the bracken, which was fun in it's own way...
I had caught up with Christopher Tortolano on the descent and we spent the rest of the race opening and closing a gap between us. The climb out of Traquair towards Minch Moor was a decent one, taking us up over 500m and above the mist and cloud for the first time to a treat of a cloud inversion across the Tweed Valley. Christopher was much stronger on the climbs, which helped keep me honest and focused, as I tried to keep him in sight!
I had started with 740ml of Tailwind with the intention of going straight through all but the final checkpoint where I would pick up 500ml Tailwind, so I went over the hill and straight into the long, fast descent back down to the valley. The wide forestry track zig zagged down a steep slope, so we were at the same level as the tree branches downslope. I was surprised to find myself looking into the endlessly-deep, black diamond eyes of a nonchalant buzzard for a moment before he and the tree were gone.
I had no idea how much of a lead I had at this point but was feeling pretty good and strong, and very happy considering I had thought I was either going to not race or to pull out. At the checkpoint my drop bag was in the wrong place so I lost about 60 seconds while it was located. Still having a drop bag at all in a 50k is a luxury so I'm not ungrateful to the volunteers who were at the start of a long shift! As the checkpoint was a little off the course I didn't know if, on leaving, I was still in first place. I told myself to keep calm, it was just about an hour of fast flat running to go, I could make up the time.
Then we hit the "fast flat running"... it was as wet, muddy and slippery as any cross country I have ever encountered. The riverside path was completely waterlogged, I dodged about from one side to the other looking for purchase before realising it was pointless and just taking the most direct route. As I looked at the five or six sets of footprints ahead of me (who had also been dodging around looking for good ground) I felt for the 65k runners who would be coming that way later after all the 50k runners had churned it up. I was about 40"/km off my expected pace and the sticky mud was pulling the strength from my legs. Everyone will feel like this, I told myself. Whilst the La Sportiva Helios aren't the grippiest in deep mud, they don't pick it up at all so at least I didn't have heavy shoes to contend with. Mud aside, it was very pretty by the river, I saw a few water foul and a heron.
Emerging onto solid ground I quickly caught two men and then spotted Christopher up ahead and aimed to reach him before the final hill. I reached and passed him far quicker than anticipated - I think in part thanks to my shoe choice as they were very forgiving of my kamikaze downhilling. He said "well done" as I passed and, not daring to look back I pressed on to the final climb. I had a moment of doubt as I reached Glentress Forest, I was entirely alone. I knew the path diverged from the route we had taken on the way out and didn't want to go the wrong way. I was tired by now and running quite close to the edge, if I had got it right I had enough to get me to the end but absolutely nothing else. I was at that point where you have to start closing in on yourself, tapping out a quiet rhythm, looking for trail markers and just putting one foot in front of the other over and over again. Staying absolutely in the moment. Just after the trail levelled off it kicked up again when I had thought it was time to go down. Then blissfully, wonderfully, the trail descended through the trees and my legs were working on their own, hopping tree roots, zigzagging down and down until finally the trail emerged from the trees and the finish line was in sight, One last push up the hill to the finish and I was over the line, gasping for air because, like an idiot, I had sprinted up the hill.
I was completely surprised when I was handed my time ticket and told I was first woman and third overall. Christopher, who had unknowingly been helping me up the hills, came in four and a half minutes later. There were four women in the top ten, my friend Alison coming in ninth overall and third woman.
I learnt so much from this race. I plan my races (including travel) with military precision, which is great when it works, but when things don't go to plan it's easy to panic as you see weeks of preparation unravelling. Without the car trouble, lack of sleep and period pain I would have no doubt run a bit faster, but ultimately these things happen and you can only control the controllables. After that you just have to run with what you're given.
Just because the weekend hadn't quite finished with me, I got back to the car to find it wouldn't start... I had taken the fobs off the key (it has a weird radio chip thing in it which I didn't think wanted to run an ultramarathon in a backpack) and left it in the car. Apparently if you leave this in the car the car thinks it has completed its rental and won't start. As it was an electric car, in the middle of a car park at Glentress, this was a massive relief as I thought I had managed to leave something on and run the battery down. It was remotely unlocked much to my relief. By Monday the build up of stress at the wrong time of the month led to a massive release of prostaglandins (they make muscles cramp) and they were cramping my sore DOMs legs and stomach so badly that I could no longer keep paracetamol down. So I have learnt from that too, and in a 'B' race, so I suppose I should be grateful. I now have a plan in place to make sure it will never mess up an 'A' race!
"Even in the mud and scum of things, something always, always sings." - Ralph Waldo Emerson
I had booked an Enterprise Car Club car to drive down to Peebles the afternoon before the race. When I went down to the car I discovered a massive gouge in one of the tyres. I am 100% certain that the tyre would have blown had I tried to drive it to Peebles. Given how badly I had felt in the lead up I was beginning to think the whole thing was a bad idea. I was sat on the pavement close to tears while Enterprise sorted another car. I knew I would miss registration and have to register on race morning. Leaving hours after I had planned meant driving a strange car in heavy traffic in the dark, none of which seemed appealing. I arrived in Peebles stressed and with only some cold rice for dinner.
At the Lindores Guesthouse I was just checking in when I saw a little grey snout and two deep brown eyes looking around the door to the private apartment. I asked if he was allowed out and was, moments later, being licked and loved by Toby the miniature Schnauzer. He took all my stress away in an instant.
Race day
After a poor night's sleep and with increasingly uncomfortable cramps, I drove to Glentress. At registration I decided I would start, run to the bottom of the second hill (12k) and make a decision. I felt so pessimistic I nearly didn't put a bottle of Tailwind in my drop bag (as I'd not be able to get it back if I didn't get that far).
The race seemed to go off very fast, four women were grouped together, passing and being passed repeatedly on the first climb. My period cramps were strongly suggesting I go back to the car (and hot water bottle) and my lungs and legs were not enjoying the fact that the race starts uphill. Well, it's only 12k I told myself. I'll run 12k and decide.
Having struggled on the climb, I quickly found my legs again as the course levelled out and with "only 12k" in mind broke the Strava CR for the descent... oops? Although the course was very wet I had opted for a fairly new pair of La Sportiva Helios over more grippy trail or fell shoes as the race includes almost 10km of tarmac in total and the Helios are the most comfortable and efficient on that. So when I hit the riverside path I picked up the pace to around 4.20/km before steadying to 4.35. At the 12k point I was feeling okay and as I turned I saw Alison right behind me, still wearing her jacket, like she was out for an easy run. The climb up the second hill was wet and slippery but otherwise a lovely wiggly forest path with plenty of roots and puddles to skip over. I kept expecting Alison to catch me but soon there was only the squelching of my own footsteps.
The second of the smaller hills, this climb had an alpine feel with little switchbacks, but at only 330m (from about 130m) it was over almost as soon as it had started. I was finally feeling good. Rachel (Normand, last year's winner) had promised me I would love the descent through Cadrona forest and I could see what she meant but the conditions this year saw us all sliding down through the bracken, which was fun in it's own way...
I had caught up with Christopher Tortolano on the descent and we spent the rest of the race opening and closing a gap between us. The climb out of Traquair towards Minch Moor was a decent one, taking us up over 500m and above the mist and cloud for the first time to a treat of a cloud inversion across the Tweed Valley. Christopher was much stronger on the climbs, which helped keep me honest and focused, as I tried to keep him in sight!
I had started with 740ml of Tailwind with the intention of going straight through all but the final checkpoint where I would pick up 500ml Tailwind, so I went over the hill and straight into the long, fast descent back down to the valley. The wide forestry track zig zagged down a steep slope, so we were at the same level as the tree branches downslope. I was surprised to find myself looking into the endlessly-deep, black diamond eyes of a nonchalant buzzard for a moment before he and the tree were gone.
I had no idea how much of a lead I had at this point but was feeling pretty good and strong, and very happy considering I had thought I was either going to not race or to pull out. At the checkpoint my drop bag was in the wrong place so I lost about 60 seconds while it was located. Still having a drop bag at all in a 50k is a luxury so I'm not ungrateful to the volunteers who were at the start of a long shift! As the checkpoint was a little off the course I didn't know if, on leaving, I was still in first place. I told myself to keep calm, it was just about an hour of fast flat running to go, I could make up the time.
Then we hit the "fast flat running"... it was as wet, muddy and slippery as any cross country I have ever encountered. The riverside path was completely waterlogged, I dodged about from one side to the other looking for purchase before realising it was pointless and just taking the most direct route. As I looked at the five or six sets of footprints ahead of me (who had also been dodging around looking for good ground) I felt for the 65k runners who would be coming that way later after all the 50k runners had churned it up. I was about 40"/km off my expected pace and the sticky mud was pulling the strength from my legs. Everyone will feel like this, I told myself. Whilst the La Sportiva Helios aren't the grippiest in deep mud, they don't pick it up at all so at least I didn't have heavy shoes to contend with. Mud aside, it was very pretty by the river, I saw a few water foul and a heron.
Emerging onto solid ground I quickly caught two men and then spotted Christopher up ahead and aimed to reach him before the final hill. I reached and passed him far quicker than anticipated - I think in part thanks to my shoe choice as they were very forgiving of my kamikaze downhilling. He said "well done" as I passed and, not daring to look back I pressed on to the final climb. I had a moment of doubt as I reached Glentress Forest, I was entirely alone. I knew the path diverged from the route we had taken on the way out and didn't want to go the wrong way. I was tired by now and running quite close to the edge, if I had got it right I had enough to get me to the end but absolutely nothing else. I was at that point where you have to start closing in on yourself, tapping out a quiet rhythm, looking for trail markers and just putting one foot in front of the other over and over again. Staying absolutely in the moment. Just after the trail levelled off it kicked up again when I had thought it was time to go down. Then blissfully, wonderfully, the trail descended through the trees and my legs were working on their own, hopping tree roots, zigzagging down and down until finally the trail emerged from the trees and the finish line was in sight, One last push up the hill to the finish and I was over the line, gasping for air because, like an idiot, I had sprinted up the hill.
I was completely surprised when I was handed my time ticket and told I was first woman and third overall. Christopher, who had unknowingly been helping me up the hills, came in four and a half minutes later. There were four women in the top ten, my friend Alison coming in ninth overall and third woman.
I learnt so much from this race. I plan my races (including travel) with military precision, which is great when it works, but when things don't go to plan it's easy to panic as you see weeks of preparation unravelling. Without the car trouble, lack of sleep and period pain I would have no doubt run a bit faster, but ultimately these things happen and you can only control the controllables. After that you just have to run with what you're given.
Just because the weekend hadn't quite finished with me, I got back to the car to find it wouldn't start... I had taken the fobs off the key (it has a weird radio chip thing in it which I didn't think wanted to run an ultramarathon in a backpack) and left it in the car. Apparently if you leave this in the car the car thinks it has completed its rental and won't start. As it was an electric car, in the middle of a car park at Glentress, this was a massive relief as I thought I had managed to leave something on and run the battery down. It was remotely unlocked much to my relief. By Monday the build up of stress at the wrong time of the month led to a massive release of prostaglandins (they make muscles cramp) and they were cramping my sore DOMs legs and stomach so badly that I could no longer keep paracetamol down. So I have learnt from that too, and in a 'B' race, so I suppose I should be grateful. I now have a plan in place to make sure it will never mess up an 'A' race!
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