The thing with enthusiasm is that it carries you along at a break neck speed until you hit that that reality check with a monumental thud. As part of my bid to stretch my wings and do some new events I fell upon 100 Miles of Istria.
It turns out that nature built me a bit wonky. For as long as I have been a runner I have had issues with my left leg. It is always tight and always needs more massage than the right, and has always seemed to be either the root of or involved in any injuries that I have had to contend. I am also an over-pronator and it is worse on the left.
Some serious and not serious reflections of my ultra running year, where I achieved my largest ever mileage and a few other milestones on the way.
The pure and magic indulgence that is the post run nap.
As ever I was a woman with a mission. I set two objectives for my run at Glenmore this year: to enjoy myself and to bag the magic 100 miles and ‘get the horn’, with the priority being the enjoyment. It was also important to me that Alasdair have a better, more comfortable experience this year too, and with that in mind we headed North armed with a gazebo and brazier.
I am not entirely sure how I found myself at the start line of the Devil ‘O the Highlands just six weeks after running the full West Highland Way race.
The third instalment of my 2015 West Highland Way Race experience.
Sarah was supporting me for this last section. I knew as we set out that she would definitely be taking the lead and that her quiet strength and determination would get me through it. During the decent to Kinlochleven and whilst I was in the centre I had been mentally adjusting my expectations and frustrations. Pace had slowed dramatically and time at checkpoint was longer than I had planned.
The second instalment of my 2015 West Highland Way Race.
It took a few minutes to get going as my sore arse and elbow realised that they were not getting any sympathy or respite. More steady progress and passing a few people. Through the sheep tunnel and up the hill and just as I was approaching cow poo alley I caught my toe and down I went sliding along the track: ooft.
The first instalment of my 2015 West Highland Way Race experience.
The West Highland Way Race (WHWR) is the jewel in the crown of the Scottish ultra marathons. It is that pinnacle that many of us aspire to. For me, rightly or wrongly, it was something that I felt I had to do to truly become a full card carrying member of the Scottish Ultra family.