I knew there was a reason why I don’t normally line up events for January and February and why my mileage goes down over the winter. It’s the I just want to rest on my summer laurels, kick back, reduce the mileage and lie about in the warmth and get fat factor. This bear just wants to coorie in and hibernate.
I must be honest and say that this blog entry is tinged with disappointment and frustration at my second failure to complete the African stage of the Global Odyssey, but I am entirely comfortable with my decision to abandon forty-five kilometres into the 100k Ultra Mirage el Djerid event.
An epic run with a Mongolian mud spa treatment thrown in for free.
Where do I start? This stage of the Global Odyssey 100 was the perfect example of what the Global Odyssey is about: remote, extreme, challenging, wild, beautiful and awe inspiring. One hundred kilometres over foothills, through gorges, over desert plains in rain and sunshine with temperatures ranging from fifteen to thirty-one degrees, from dawn to night.
Roadtrip! After knocking a few ideas and plans back and forth we decided that the Global Odyssey 100 Gobi expedition should start with an eight-hundred-kilometre, two day road trip from Ulaanbaatar to the capital of the Gobi Dalanzhadgad, with an overnight stop at Mandalgovi – middle Gobi. Time to sit back, relax and get into the zone. What can I say: it was epic.
Plan: let’s stop over in Frankfurt en-route to Ulaanbaatar for the Global Odyssey Gobi 100k. We don’t have to worry about tight connections; we can rest up before the long haul flight and we can explore a new city.
I would never have imagined that the Scottish Highlands would have been the location for heat conditioning for the Gobi Desert or that the Great Glen Ultra would be my last long run for my Global Odyssey Gobi 100k challenge. Surreal as it seems that is how things roll sometimes.
When someone mentions an A-Z of Glasgow I am immediately transported back to when I first came to the city well over thirty years ago and armed myself with the trusty A-Z of Glasgow map book. That’s what you did back in the days before internet, mobile phones and google maps.
The Namibian Odyssey 100k was certainly an adventure and a journey of discovery; just not the one I had expected. How wrong did it go? Spectacularly wrong. They say, that if you are going to fail; fail with style, get eaten by a leopard or something of that ilk. Failing because you are bit pooped simply lacks panache. I can give Cyrano de Bergerac a run for his money when it comes to panache.
‘If you're seeing things running through your head Who you gonna call?’ Sandbaggers!
There I was dreaming about those remote, extreme, beautiful, exquisitely painful 100ks that you have set yourself the challenge of doing for the Global Odyssey 100. Antarctica, no problem: done. Europe, no problem: done. Africa; wait a minute, there are not that many one-day 100k events on the African continent and the ones I found just did not seem to whet my appetite. There was something missing, a certain ‘je ne sais quoi’. Do I settle?
Car crash alert! You would have thought it would get easier with each year that passes, but no, the path to getting the Loch Katrine Running Festival over the start line this year has been littered with caltrops waiting to trip me up.
High Terrain Events and I have ‘previous’, in fact the Glentress Trail Marathon and I have previous. I came last in the previous two High Terrain Events that I did in 2017: Kielder 80km and the Tweed Valley 65k. When I ran in the first edition of the Glentress Trail Marathon I was a DNF at the halfway point, just not having the motivation to tackle the mud again.
To quote Jack Nicolson ‘What if this is as good as it gets?’
I have accepted the noticeable deterioration in the elasticity of my skin and the little wrinkles and lines forming, the drift south.
Raid Des Bogomiles: Do I get the prize for the most amusing race name? You have to admit that coming from a country where the word ‘boggin’ is common parlance and where you frequently run through miles of bog it has a certain amusement value.
Did the Grand Raid Des Bogomiles, (one of three races held within the Grand Raid Des Cathars), provide miles of bog? No, but there was an ascent up vertical mud slide which left me fairly boggin.
A not so cautious return from injury.
It’s an age old story.You get injured. It’s a bad one, crutches are involved. Painkillers are involved. Picture a running diva lolling with a ‘blanky’ and a pile of cushions. There are weeks (four) of enforced inactivity. Picture diva impersonating a cat on a hot tin roof. Finally, you get the all clear to ease back into training, but there is a small problem. It is only seven weeks until your next race, a huge kick-ass 100k with ascent equal to climbing Ben Nevis five times.
My recent participation in the Devil ‘O the Highlands footrace had an almighty sting in the tail: shin splints!
Plan Z: I had a blast. Best day out since the Namibian and Genghis Khan marathons in January.
For the first time ever, I was smiling in every photo taken during a race: unheard of. There is a lot to be said for just rocking up, not pushing it, hanging at the back of the party, chilling and taking it easy.
Code red, we have a code red! We are on plan Z! What do you do when you reach plan Z? Plan AA?
