THE QUEST FOR THE FOURTH GOBLET

This is the 5th time I have written a race report of the West Highland Way Race and probably the one I have found hardest to write. Many of us write these race reports, one of several features that distinguishes the West Highland Way Race from others. We write these accounts to remember, to share our experiences with others and to be able to one day look back.

In previous years I have also run the WHWR for charity — three times for Save the Children — but this year decided that I would run in aid of Alzheimer’s Research — my uncle having died from Alzheimer’s and my mother-in-law recently taken into care. Talking to friends I have discovered that so many of their loved ones are suffering from this awful condition so perhaps writing these words will one day serve as some sort of a reminder of what I went through over the course of the 95 miles, even as my memory of the event fades into the mist.

After four previous outings on the WHW for the first time my wife Zhanna was able to make the trip as well as my daughter-in-law Iryna. They would be joining my friend Ian and son Dmitri — ever presents on each of my previous 4 attempts (3 successful).

The week before the race things didn’t look good. I obsessively checked the weather forecast and this is how it was looking just a few days before:

Inspite of the weather forecast I had a plan. Having first completed the race in 2014 and then improved my time in successful completions in 2015 and 2016, missing out on a place in 2017 and then pulling out through injury at Glencoe in 2018, I was keen to keep improving and had a plan to knock 42 minutes off my best to hit 29 hours. Such a plan depended on getting through the checkpoints in the first half a little quicker (helped by the fact that I would not be met at Rowardennan or Beinglas Farm this year) in order to start the descent into Kinlochleven at mile 76 with still some daylight.

My usual level of light training had gone well. I started at the end of last year and steadily built up a reasonable level of steady training which included three ultras — the Country to Capital 45 mile ultra in early January, the 29 mile Amersham Ultra in March and the 62 mile East Devon Round in May, all of which went well for me, finishing above expectations.

Zhanna and I drove up from London on the Thursday, reaching our friend Dawn’s house in Drymen around 6 p.m. A good meal in The Clachan, reputedly the oldest pub in Scotland, was followed by a good long sleep. I awoke at 7.00 a.m. to read the news that the father of a close friend had died after several years with Alzheimer’s. Was this to be an omen?

I stayed in bed until 9.30, not sleeping but visualising in my mind every step of the race. It took me a couple of hours. It’s a long race!

After breakfast I headed into Glasgow. As part of research for a play I am writing I visited Cathkin Park on the southside of Glasgow, once home of Third Lanark FC from 1872–1967. 95 years. And in a matter of 12 hours I would be starting a run of 95 miles! This looked like another omen.

I then visited the house in nearby Langside where my father had lived as a child. It was good to see it was still there. I called him to convey the news, took a photo and headed back to Milngavie.

By 2.00 p.m. I had bought my supplies in Tesco — my usual menu — 8 litres of Lucozade, crisps, chocolate, wine gums, cakes, biscuits and rice pudding — and was soon tucked up in bed in the Milngavie Premier Inn stuffing myself with pasta and crisps and sandwiches. I made final preparations to my kit and then tried to sleep but without success as usual. The nerves and anticipation were as strong as previous years even though this was an experience I was more than familiar with.

At 6 I headed over to Ian’s in Dunblane, left the car and returned with him for a meal and registration where I weighed in at 74 kg in my kit. Ian went home to sleep while I had another couple of hours of rest, again without sleep. At a little after midnight I put on my running shoes, slung on my rucksack and headed off to hear Ian Beattie’s briefing where I saw this handy reminder of the route ahead at Milngavie railway station.

As usual the car park was buzzing with activity. I tried to keep as calm as possible to conserve energy. Ian and Sean gave their briefings and Adrian commemorated past titans of the race who are no longer with us, reminding us of the family feel of this event.

At 1.00 a.m. the hooter sounded and as is now traditional I let everyone else race off while I held back, keeping out of the way of what was a crowded field with 238 starters just ahead of the sweepers running behind the field. Once I felt comfortable and had passed through the wooded section of Mugdock Park I picked up the pace a little and began to slowly move through the field.

Having eaten a sandwich and some crisps shortly before the start I was deliberately eating a few pieces of chocolate every 30 minutes and popping wine gums in order to get as much energy into me before the inevitable decline in the desire to eat which tends to overcome me in the latter stages of long races.

This continued all the way until Drymen where the sky began to lighten, a pink glow appearing in the east. Running steadily I reached Drymen in 2 hours 18 minutes, bang on schedule, and kept my energy up by eating a banana as I walked the first uphill section.

Crossing the road at the Garabhan forest I passed the legend that is Fiona Rennie on her way to her 15th goblet. This was a good section for me. It seemed easy going and I felt good, repeating my mantras and keeping pretty much in line with my target pace.

At the top of Conic Hill I took my traditional photo of dawn over Loch Lomond and chatted briefly to Robert Osfield who promptly shot off down the hill at a speed I could not match although I love the downhill section and as usual picked up a few places.

I had sent a text that I was at the summit and in a matter of minutes I had arrived at Balmaha in 3.55, just 5 minutes behind the plan and in 176th place. I was delighted to see that Zhanna and Dawn had got up at 4.30 a.m. to meet me and Ian even earlier to drive over from Dunblane to see that I was well. I had a five-minute stop and was, as you can see, full of beans. It was getting warmer so I ditched my jacket and headed off along the Lochside.

The next section to Rowardennan is not usually one of my favourites. Although it is one of the most beautiful, I think the change in terrain after Conic Hill and the slower pace than the long flat section from Milngavie to Drymen as well as the realisation that it is now 5 a.m. all play a part. Additionally, I was feeling a little strange in my stomach and did not want to eat and risk being sick. I mixed running and walking while trying to keep my head focused and avoid the negative thoughts which can so easily start to unravel and affect a race. I kept calm and kept moving glad that there were few midges, but from here on I was being passed by a number of runners hence my surprise that I was again 176th fastest along this section, probably due to spending less time than others in the checkpoint.

This year the loch was so tranquil, like a mirror in the gentle light of early morning. I reached Rowardennan in 2:03, 5:58 overall, just 8 minutes behind plan and 171st overall, took just a couple of minutes break to stuff the contents of my drop bag — Lucozade, crisps, a rice pudding and two country slices into my rucksack — although without eating anything. I was soon off again, back out along the loch towards Inversnaid, a section which went reasonably well although I was still feeling a little queasy. At Inversnaid (34 miles) I picked up another dropbag. Quite a few runners had gathered and I sat in the sunshine for a few minutes and ate a rice pudding, the first solid food I had eaten in 22 miles since Drymen. Although I was drinking reasonably well I was getting concerned about my calorie intake and whether this would affect me later on.

The next 7 miles to Beinglas Farm seemed to fly by and were far easier than I remember from previous years. At the end of the loch I climbed the hill to Dario’s post and took a look back along more than 20 miles of Loch Lomond. Reaching the checkpoint in 10:35 and 170th position, I stopped for just a couple of minutes to transfer the contents of my drop bag. My rucksack was now overflowing with food I did not feel like eating although I was beginning to worry that this lack of food intake might cause problems later on.

I was now 20 minutes down on my plan. Nothing critical but I was hoping to be on track here. I headed on towards Auchtertyre, again being passed by a few runners as the temperature began to pick up. I was beginning to feel better, still drinking but all I felt like eating were some wine gums and a bag of crisps. This section again seemed easier than in previous years. The hills seemed less steep, the roller-coaster section less daunting.

To my surprise, having crossed the A82 and coming to the field near Auchtertyre, Zhanna was waiting for me on the road and we walked into the checkpoint at 51 miles. It was great to hear how much she was enjoying the day. I was there in 13 hours 37 minutes and in 175th place, now 32 minutes behind plan. At the weigh-in I was surprised to have lost around 4kg and knew I needed to eat something. I sat down for a few minutes sit down and probably ate something although cannot remember what.

My son Dmitri and his wife Iryna were kitted up and ready to join me, looking very fresh despite their overnight coach journey from London. We set off, running the flats and walking the hills while Ian took Zhanna to check in to our accommodation in Fort William. It was a real pleasure having them along and we made good time, reaching Bridge of Orchy in 2:55 or 16:33 cumulatively, 38 minutes behind schedule.

Iryna and Ian went to eat while Dmitri and I continued the next section which I was viewing with certain apprehension as this is where last year the proverbial wheels fell off and ended in my first and only WHW DNF due to a bad ankle.

We reached Jelly Baby Hill quickly where it was lovely to meet Murdo, dispensing jelly babies for the final time. We chatted for a while. The man is a legend, my kind of guy and someone who makes the WHW race so unique. We then ran down the hill with fabulous views of the loch below and kept going most of the way to the lodge. By this time a number of runners and their support had bunched together and apart from a little running most seemed to have settled to hike the rest of the route.

Rannoch Moor passed quite well as we found ourselves overtaking and then being overtaken by the same people several times. We jogged a few sections but mostly walked the moor reaching the Glencoe checkpoint in a time of 3 hours 43 minutes for a cumulative 20 hours 17 minutes, 47 minutes behind schedule and badly in need of some of Ian’s coffee.

The next is for me always one of the hardest sections. I put on two extra layers to prepare for the cool of the evening. By now, 71 miles in, about to go into a second night and knowing that my target was slipping away, I had lost all interest in running and was content to just let walking suffice although Dmitri was rather more keen to get us moving and keep me on track.

I seemed to win this debate and as a result we slowed and it took us a long time to reach the Devils’s Staircase at about 11.15 p.m. It was a beautiful sunset in Glencoe, but we put on head torches and were up in a reasonable 35 minutes, but now in darkness, made a slow descent towards Kinlochleven. Fiona Rennie overtook us as well as a few others on what seemed like an interminable descent during which I had decided that with my target time slipping further behind I would focus more on successfully completing the race rather than trying to chase a time that was now disappearing out of reach.

Eventually Kinlochleven did appear. I reached the checkpoint in 24:57, just over an hour behind plan, was weighed again, remaining around the weight I was at Auchtertyre although no longer eating. It was now 2 a.m. and I was desperate to sleep and so pulled together a couple of beanbags in one of the rooms of the leisure centre, dimmed the lights and tried to sleep. Dmitri did the same. Every now and again I started shivering and found it hard to sleep, but did drift off every now and again for a few minutes. A little before 4 a.m. I decided that it was time to get back on the trail. A quick visit to the toilet and I was on my way. Ian took Iryna to Fort William to sleep and drove Dmitri to Lundravra for a bit more rest while I found the climb out of Kinlochleven surprisingly easy, feeling good again after my short rest. Once on the military road over the Lairigmor (the great pass) I quickly overtook Neil MacRitchie who, like Fiona was on his way to completing the race for the 15th time. We chatted briefly and then I left them quickly behind as I headed toward Jeff Smith’s rescue vehicle for a quick drink of ginger beer.

I passed the ruined houses along the trail and then ploughed on towards Lundavra and its smouldering bonfire where, a little under 3 hours after leaving Kinlochleven I reached this final checkpoint before the finish. With the two hours of rest I had taken in Kinlochleven it was now 6.45 a.m. While I was waiting for Dmitri to join me, Neil overtook me while I was waiting at the checkpoint as did several others, but I no longer cared, happy to just continue in the knowledge that my fourth goblet was almost in sight.

This was the first time that I had passed along this part of the trail since the forest that had been cut down which made it actually easier to see the beginning of the fire road as well as affording clear views of Ben Nevis, for once not covered in cloud. I tried jogging down the fire road but we settled on a steady walk and soon enough hit the road into Fort William towards the new finish.

Zhanna, Ian and Iryna appeared and accompanied us for the last few hundred yards before my sprint into the finish in a time of 32 hours 40 minutes. It was lovely to be able to share this moment with Zhanna. I had made it, a big relief after the disappointment of last year.

After a cup of tea I went for a shower and a quick sleep before coming back for the prize-giving. As always this was a beautiful event. I strode up to be given my goblet by Sean having finished in 186th place out of 196 finishers. It was a little disappointing to finish so near the back of the field although 43 people (18% of the starting field) were unfortunate enough not to have made it and had withdrawn during the race. From my experience last year I knew how this felt.

So, what learnings and conclusions was I able to take away from WHWR 2019? From the statistics I was able to learn that I had maintained a very steady pace throughout. The first section to Balmaha I was 176th. I ended in 186th. The worst section (Kinlochleven to Lundavra) I was 193rd. The best (Auchtertyre to Bridge of Orchy) I was 174th. So there were no major variances in how I had performed against the rest of the field. I had suffered no injuries other than a few minor blisters. Within two days I had recovered very well and hardly had any tiredness in my legs.

Fear of injury perhaps held me back a little in the earlier stages when I could have pushed harder, as well as my stomach which limited my food intake and perhaps deprived me of needed energy in the latter stages. Resting at Kinlochleven cost me about 20 places and two hours, but probably made the last 14 miles easier than had I pushed on.

My plans had been, in order of priority: 1. Complete the race, 2. Improve my best time of 29:42, 3. Break 29 hours. I was keen to achieve 2 or 3 in order to consider keeping coming back to this race I love so much.

The race was not particularly hard. 95 miles and 14,000 feet is something I can manage without much difficulty, but I am competitive with myself and do want to feel that I am improving, even at the age of 54, hence a feeling of some sadness and disappointment, even though I was delighted to complete the race, and with my wife to witness it, and as a huge bonus, thanks to the generosity of so many, have managed to raise around £3000 for Alzheimer’s Research.

On Sunday I had another sleep in the afternoon before enjoying a few drinks before the long drive home on Monday.

Will be back? Never say never is something that I have learned from these races. Writing this, almost two weeks on from the race, rather than a sense of achievement, I feel a sense of sadness, of anti-climax, and am often thinking about what I was doing two weeks ago and what might have been. This is a common feeling and will pass. I know I can do better and would love to come back and have another go, but maybe it is time to have a break for a while and seek a new challenge while I take in what I have done over the past five years. I have done what few others have done and have now obtained four goblets — one for each of my children. Cheers!