Ben Nevis 6/09/08
Peter's version
Och AyeLast year I wrote “Recommended, with reservations. I will be back, chasing the 2hr thing.”
To offset the hassle of a long drive and a big race in one day we drove up to Fort William Friday and stayed in Bank Street Lodge: a backpackers type hostel that has the advantage of being cheap and having a kitchen you can use to prepare your own pre-race breakfast.
On the drive up.
Saturday and we turned up plenty early to get a decent parking place (only just) and to register and warm up. Last year (our first Ben) I had disapproved of the overly strict and official organisation that controls the Ben race but this year the free Buff and good conditions won my vote. (Buff were sponsoring the race as it was one of the SkyRunner World Series.) (SkyRunner website here worth visiting for its lovely misuse of English.) As someone said in the changing rooms a £12 Buff and miniature whisky for the £9 entry fee represented pretty good value. You also got 8 safety pins for the numbers (back and front), a little disk on a cord to be worn round the neck and handed in to the summit marshals and a card to hand to the starters. All this and a race that is massively oversubscribed and no wonder the organisers are a little fraught by race day. Not to mention erosion and path re-building and possible re-routing of the race in future years. Holes are forming and committees are looking into them.
While we were running about Claggan Park wondering about whether we should wear more than just vests (decided just vests) Paul and Frank and Sarah turned up. Sarah was sporting a cast on her wrist having broken it running downhill. Frank asked what time to hit the summit was necessary for a sub 2hr race. (Equivalent to a sub 3 marathon maybe?) I said that I'd made the summit in about 80mins but that forced a really rapid descent and that I went over the 2hr mark by 44 seconds.
Mary in her Montrails - colour scheme for women's version a bit 70's. Sarah plastered.I drank a big can of Red Bull and did a fair bit of stretching. This year after a lot of searching for shoes with a similar grip to Walshes but with more cushioning for the longer races we have been doing, I discovered Montrail Highlanders which although a bit heavy when waterlogged are about as useful as anything I have tried. I found them really great today particularly on the top half of the race as they offer more protection from the rock-bashing your feet take. I still came down like a scared girl though.
After a bit of piping and tartan we set off round the field (over a minute to get onto the tarmac) then a mile up that undulating road which rises to the path that starts the race proper. I hate running on the heels of the guy in front and as such find it nearly impossible to elbow my way forward in a moving crowd, finding I have to run to the edge of the race where I can hold a decent place. I was probably in the first fifty and reached the gate about 6.45. Already I was up on last year and could see proper runners (Angela Mudge, Chris Upson etc.) just ahead.
Too Fast.The path starts well and there is plenty room for folk to overtake. Then after a while we are off the path and cutting up muddy traverses that miss the zig zags of the tourist path. Here, overtaking is nearly impossible but this makes runners edgy and some still try to overtake. Martin (Sarah's dad) came past at this point showing he was in better shape than last race at the Ochils where he struggled. I followed him closely to about the Red Burn where he began to open up a lead. The turfy ground, once we left the main path to head towards the burn, was much drier and easier going than last year. I felt confident I would manage sub2 at this point.
Still going strong at the Red Burn I scooped a freezer bag into the water and biting a hole in the corner drank while climbing. Stopping briefly just before the turn up the grassy bank to take a last drink I was overtaken by the fourth woman who used my bum bag as leverage as she went by, apologising as she went. Unimpressed by her tactics I was glad to take the place back ages later towards the top of the hill. I didn't use her bumbag to pull up on.
Jocelyn Scott looking fresh.The top half of the race is mostly rocky. It seemed in much better condition than last year – I think being drier there was less slippage. Or maybe the erosion control folk have been making a proper route. Last year there seemed less of a specific line and it was just choose your own route over the rubble. This time there seemed to be a specific line that most followed. I learnt the big rocks moved less if you could get a reasonable purchase on them rather than wade through the river of moving shale.
At 62 minutes the first runner flew past (the aptly named Spaniard Agusti Roc) returning from the top with Rob Jebb in close pursuit, a chorus of encouraging shouts following him down the descent. There was a considerable wind at points and I leaned ever closer to the mountainside to try and reduce drag. It all begins to wear you down after a solid and gruelling hour of up hill stomping. I began to think maybe the cold wind would rob me of a sub2. Then the going gets slightly easier: a path and a levelling off. The returning runners are more frequent and you can read their pained concentration as they dodge the ascending runners and tourists unfortunate to have chosen today to go up the Ben. At last a brief view of some ghostly ghastly death slide gully off into the mists on the left and the first sight of the summit marshals. Hand over the token and its all downhill from here. I saw Martin L less than a minute ahead at the top and shouted that I would be chasing him down the hill. I hit the top at 76.56, over 3 minutes faster than last time. Frank was not far behind and I wondered if he would have the strength to push for the 2 hour mark.
Paul at the finish
I ignored the fast boys going past and concentrated on keeping my eyes and feet rooted to the uneven rock-strewn ground. Some of the smaller stoned shale sections and scree you can surf and ski, the boulders you have to dodge and jump, then there is dirt-ball-bearings-on-hard-pack that has you taking short dance steps ten to the dozen trying not to over rotate and go down, hands out for a rock sandwich. Most of this is done without straightening your legs properly, keeping your suspension limber and flexible, which is why next day your quads feel like they are wearing G clamps.
Charlie Love, 65 and going strong. A regular on the hill racing circuit.Then the rock stops and the steep grass starts. Initially this is dry with decent traction and you can further pound your quads bounding and jumping down the grassy ledges. Over the path and the grass is now saturated and I take my first sitting sprawl of the day. I noticed later some call this the grassy wall others the Bumslide. Its not a good idea to spend too much time on all-twos as there are quite a few large rocks in the mix. The heels of my shoes choked up with slither and slime I go down again and the right leg of my shorts goes up to my waist. Later I removed a branch of heather from within the shorts.
What's going on here - socks over shoes? Why?Over the burn (was there a couple of river crossings maybe?) and it occurs to me that we have come down a different route from the ascent. But quickly we are on the main path to the bottom of the hill and the only remaining challenge is to stay on your tired legs and not lose any teeth before the finish line. As the path is a mix of tripping boulders and tourist spectators this isn't easy. I made up a lot of places here last year but this time I feel I have spent more and have less left. However I overtake a few stragglers and enjoy the speed of the descent. Ahead is a Lochaber runner so I am confident he will take us down the best of the short cut possibilities that cross the longer tourist path down some sharp muddy traverses. Again I inch past a couple of runners not going as fast I would like.
Then at last onto the road and the gravity assisted part ends like you have put on a weight belt. Or are now giving someone a piggy back. I look at my watch and see 1.49. More than 10 minutes means I can walk this, but I try to hold as good form as possible along the road which goes on for what seems like much more than a mile. I thought I had maybe seen Martin Laing as he hit the road a minute ahead and thought maybe I could catch him. Maybe if I had a bicycle. A few go past. I so don't care. Round the field and over the line in 1.57.04 in 76th place about 30 higher than last year and three minutes faster. Great to see Martin in such good form though I would have been more pleased if he was about a minute slower. Tom Scott has had a less fortunate event after heading the ground at one point.
Behind in black is Craig Love (son of Charlie) who runs similar times to myself.I went for a shower quickly in order to get back onto the field to cheer Mary over the line, so wasn't there to see Frank do a solid 2.09 and Sarah a sub 2.30. They both enjoyed it though felt it was more scary than most. (Should have been here last year.)
Unfortunately no sign of last year's free veggie meals so when Mary came in we both had an unsophisticated burger in a white bun. Mary had enjoyed the race much more this year. Judging by her time this was achieved by slowing down. While she was showering I had a beer and a chat to some of the runners. I also dropped past the First Aid tent to take photos of walking wounded only to find it was empty. Something of a surprise because most of the folk in the changing rooms were sporting skinned knees, elbows or ribs. I had a bruised hand where I had fallen heavily but apart from a graze or two on the lower legs was relatively damage free. Spoke to Craig Love who had got ahead in the Ochils but was just behind me today.
Just as we left in the car and were sitting at a junction heading back into Fort William there was a toot from the car crossing the junction and it was Tony Stapley. Since he hadn't run the race I presume he was just passing and would have been on the lookout for runners.
On the way home I finished my second (medicinal) beer and took photos of the scenery – great to go through Glen Coe (above) in fabulous weather while the rest of the country (down South) were suffering rain and worse. A great run but the legs are like anvils today. I was going to get up and go on the club run this morning but sadly slept through the alarm.
Report pb
Paul's experience...
Today I can only walk downstairs backwards - my children ignore me but it attracts comments at work. Hardly a good advert for keeping fit. I know what causes delayed onset muscle stiffness (DOMS) - pounding down hills without straightening the knees - but how do you treat it? Do you go and sit in the river after the Ben race with the real men or do you sprint for a hot shower, sweet tea and cake? I think - no contest. Maybe it would be a good research project for an overpaid underworked junior doctor, if John Forker can find me a spare one. Here's another idea for the Ignobel prize for medicine. When one person starts walking in a hill race, does that immediately encourage other people to walk? What are the confounding factors - age, sex, colour of their running shirt? If a Carnethy woman starts to walk, then that's good enough for me.
The middle of the pack in the Ben race is like a primary school crocodile - no overtaking and make sure you hold hands - until the Red Burn. The chap in front of me was tall with swinging pointy elbows at my ear level. He was sticking to the middle of the path and to pass him, you teetered on the edge of a precipice. Oh to be up the front with Peter with plenty of space.
The leaders in the race are whippet-like creatures. This year, they were more whippety than usual with an influx of elite Skyrunners. As they came charging down the slope past us rotund plodders, a couple of them shouted Lo-lo-lo-lo in a musical tone with each step. Either this was Catalan for "please make way" or they imagined they were on the piste on the Alps and this was the cow-bells.
Peter has eloquently described the race and I have little to add. I was even less social than usual after the race and did not have the chance to congratulate the other Porty runners. I sat on the grass with my tea and cake, it was warm, the Ben was clear and it was "Chust sublime". This was my ninth Ben race, not the fastest, but the most enjoyable. I am doing this race as fast as I did 10 years ago. My challenge is still to be doing it in 10 years time.
I always come back via Laggan. I think the scenery on the road from Spean Bridge to Laggan is spectacular, although there is nowhere to stop to eat. However, there is a new cafe/restaurant in the Dalwhinnie Inn, open until 11 pm with a Garage/techno session from 10 pm - free bus provided. The Dalwhinnie Session (twinned with Las Vegas as it says on the T-shirt). Bizarre - but cracking bowl of chicken noodles.
Report Paul Eunson
Mary's account...
This year as I set out up the Ben I was haunted by the memories of last year's race when I found descending through the steep, thin scree so difficult I completely stopped a couple of times unsure how to take my next step without commencing on an unstoppable slide down. I had had a good run up to the top but it was “all down hill” from there. Halfway up the Ben this year the thought of it was still bothering me and it occurred to me that I didn't have to do it and I could just drop out.
This thought kind of brought me back to my senses and I had a stern word with myself. Although my alarmist brain was telling me that I was almost certain to die I reminded myself that noone has died for a number of years on the Ben race. “If other people can run down that (frictionless) surface then you can!” I told myself, “Trust your feet!”
This self-made pep talk was curiously uplifting and I continued up with new heart.
Indeed I did find the down hill easier and managed to keep up a steady rhythm throughout. I was by no means fast but the people that were passing me didn't disappear off into the distance with quite the same rapidity as previously. I was almost enjoying myself!The upper part of the descent was over quite quickly and I was back on the track. I overtook several people on this section and again on the road and finished tired but in good spirits. Imagine my surprise then to find I was several minutes slower than last year!
It was only later having uploaded my Garmin data to the motionbased website that I realised what must have happened. My elevation profile showed that I had spent some minutes up at 4556 feet. As the summit of the Ben is only 4406ft no ordinary explanation could account for the facts. Lost time, unexplained altitude? One clear yet extraordinary conclusion to be drawn; alien abduction.
Congratulations to all the other Portobellos who beat me by a good margin.
Next report; How I was chased by the Great Grey Man of Ben Macdui over the boulder field on the Lairig Ghru...Report Mary Hunter
Photos pb and Mary, Borrowdale Website (many thanks), etc
SHR website and results
The Ben Race Website
Carnegie Hillbillies photos here
