2 Breweries Hill Race 26/09/09
I didn't think I'd be running this one till Gio emailed asking if anyone could give him a lift there. I said no as Mary was working and had more sense than to run this race a week before Loch Ness. However, never knowingly sensible, I thought it really appealed and by the time Gio had got a lift with the Nimmos I was also going along. Ian and Anne drove us to Traquair (many thanks) where we had a cup of tea and planned what to wear and carry.
Graham was let out for the race but kept under close scrutiny.
I did this race last year for the first time and it is a big day out. Although the sun was shining and it seemed nearly ideal conditions I remembered the wind in our faces last year and so wore a vest with a gilet over the top which, once on the hills with the wind in our teeth, seemed to be just right. I carried a bum bag with the requisite waterproofs etc and also gels and 500mls drink. I also took an old camera to record some of the scenery since the day was bright. I had the camera strapped onto the belt of the bumbag, though as soon as we started I realised it shoogled from the side to the centre of the belt which was not comfortable.
photo Steven FallonAfter the first mile of road the route goes off through a field and apart from a stretch of tarmac near Stobo is off road all the way to Broughton. After we climbed the fence the leaders headed in different directions. I vividly remembered last year going wrong here and ending up in chest deep bracken so went left which followed worn sheep trods. I noticed Chris Upson and many others went the other way.
Westies disappearAbout here I took one of my number safety pins off and pinned the camera case to the side of my bumbag to stop it gravitating to the centre. I lost maybe a minute. Half a mile later where the paths converged, Chris appeared alongside. I suggested his wasn't the optimal route; he felt it was the route folk had taken in the past. However we had been assured at the start that after the fence crossing any route was viable.
Chris and fellow Westie David slowly but steadily pulled away as we climbed the long hauls of the the first few miles. It was glorious weather to be on the hills and there were great views if you could take your eyes off the ground. My plan this year was to improve on last year's performance by going more slowly. I had charged at it last time with the usual drop off and cramp marring the second half. This year I would try to run a more measured race taking the descents in particular with care rather than going hell for leather and gaining a few places at the expense of my legs. Since I enjoy thrashing downhill in shorter races this was quite difficult but I remembered the first twinges of cramp starting after the big drop down to the first water station around halfway and wanted to avoid that this year.
After Birkscairn you drop 300m to the burn (if you're careful you can cross with dry feet over to the right,) then climb another 300m to Hundleshope. Somewhere up here there are marshals at a gate, and a fence that travels in the same direction we were heading. I was trying to remember what happened here last year and was fairly sure I'd gone right over the fence just before the contour round, rather than over Broom Hill. But the 2 ahead stayed left of the fence running parallel. However a bit along, and the ground started to get very swampy. One of the 2 ahead legged it over the fence to drop down to the right. I immediately followed and after a bit of heather bashing caught the single track that is carved into the hill and gives some good running to the base of Stob Law. I found it harder going than last year – more soft ground, and could feel my feet complain about the contouring.
Looking back from the contour - note runners on horizon followingHead down and chug up Stob Law: then some marshals who direct us over the fence to the long steady descent to Glenrath and the first water station. This is great running though I resisted the urge to try and catch the distant runners ahead. Well spaced orange flags mark the descent. An unpleasantly rocky finish does its best to trip tired legs before the hurple up the tarmac to the water station. I had a gel in my hand and take a moment to follow it down with 2 cups of water. I have an emergency bottle of energy drink in my bag but choose not to refill it to keep the weight down.
Leaving the fence on the right to drop towards the centre of the picture...
Follow the orange marker flags
Ian, Craig and myself shortly after the water station at Glenrath - photo Steven FallonOn the road I was overtaken by Craig Love. Although I don't see much of him in the shorter events he usually overhauls me in the longer races and he seems to be able to keep going the whole day at the same pace, Graham Henry-esque. Fired up by the Stinger gel I catch Craig and Ian Mills just as we turn off road again and up a pleasant trail into some very picturesque woods. Arrows lead us off into the undergrowth and we are faced with a nearly vertical climb up a firebreak that seems to go on forever. The gradient compresses the distance and for the first time in a while I can see about 10 or more competitors ahead. We all struggle up the turfy slope in silence.
I rally a bit and catch up to Craig's heels. He went past as I was messing with the camera. Also the first spasms of cramp. So much for not pushing it. According to my report last year I am 8 minutes slower to the water station. I think this must be a mistake as I haven't been slacking and the lack of belting downhill would only have lost me half that. It becomes harder each time to find the wherewithal to use the camera. But if I don't, then it will have been extra weight for nothing.
After an age of climbing and the worry that from here on its crampsville we are in Manor Water territory. I pick up the pace and lead Craig over the undulating muddy ruts through the trees, to where the route takes a right turn and begins the long descent towards Stobo. Up ahead I get a glimpse of the castle but there's no way I'm getting the camera out. The legs are feeling fine and I go past several folk on the long descent, throwing caution to the wind but hopefully not the baby out with the bathwater. Proper running again though hitting the rising road we are reduced to a jog. I feel I am in much better form that last time as I was struggling at this point last year. However shortly after the water station and another gel my legs both go into massive spasms (inner thighs seized and really sore) and I have to stop to lean on a fence post. It takes a few moments before I can stand unaided and a Carnethy goes past with a few sympathetic words. My legs unlock and I run gingerly up the dirt track. The path winds in among trees and apart from the slowly increasing gradient would be lovely if you were fresh. I catch Carnethy and we chat a bit until I realise my legs are prepared to go yet faster and I set my sights on Craig who has gained a few hundred yards.
Just as the cramp struck. Photo Ian Nimmo
We both look out for the left hand path that drops down to the reservoir and I am just catching him at the wooden bridge when the downhill invokes another crippling session of cramp and I hobble to a standstill in front of Ian Nimmo who is taking photos. I try to take another photo while the horrors fade but am in no shape for artistry. I pick it up just as Carnethy catches me though I dread trying to climb the wooden stile before the road. I manage over but another bout has me dance a stiff legged polka trying to keep the runners ahead in sight to follow their tracks over the swamp to Trahenna. Craig and Ian have gone straight up the path, Carnethy has followed the road round a few hundred yards taking the lower route something like I took last year. As soon as I am stumbling over the rough tussocks behind Craig I wish I had gone the other way, grass being greener, though after half a mile and a heavy fall, (like a 70 year old catching their zimmer on a stair bang splat and beyond caring) we all meet up for the slog up the last ascent.
Now a lot of folk say this is the hardest obstacle on the route but knowing my cramp is worse descending I just plod slowly onwards and upwards trying to keep the pace going and dreading the climb over the stile at the top and the downhills all the way to the gate at Broughton. We move so slowly up the hill I am nearly recovered by the time we summit and hop over the stile with a minimum of fuss. The huddle of marshals and organisers at the top (kitted out in gear suitable for the Arctic) offer sweets and water. I think maybe yes then decide against it. Unless painkillers I'm not interested. Daren't risk anything setting off the c-word.
Coming off Trahenna - I've got my bumbag over my shoulder as I felt it was constricting
the blood flow to my legs and making the cramp worse. Photo Steven Fallon
Graham topping out at Trahenna. Photo Steven Fallon
Gio MacDonald. Photo Steven FallonNow last year I followed a Fifer off the hill using a canny diagonal descent. I notice Craig has gone high but Ian of Anster Haddies is making his way towards the better line. I follow him and am surprised a few yards later to find him sat on the ground shouting at his stiff legs in pain. I know exactly what he is going through and say as much as I climb the fence and run with extra smooth small lopes down a very pleasant contour. Craig appears just yards ahead and as I follow him a very unhelpful onlooker guides us off the path and down to the right over some very rough and turfy tussocks. It may well have been the most direct line but frankly I wish I'd stayed on the smoother higher ground to the end of the hill before dropping down the steeper but less tussocky ground. I was overtaken by a recovered Haddie as I didn't dare risk picking up the pace over such rough stuff. Finally in the field I began to run again realising I'd have to leg it if I wanted to equal last year's 3.26. I body vaulted the gate keeping my legs straight out then gingerly upped the pace to what felt like about 7 min miling or quicker while carefully monitoring the threatening cramp. There is nearly a mile of road into and through Broughton before the very welcome brewery and finish line. I took the finishing photos afterwards as I realised I had to focus on racing last year's time. I crossed the line 3.26 dead; 17 seconds quicker; wow those tactics really paid dividends!
Never so pleased to see a brewery.However there is a huge feeling of achievement doing a run like this. Its 18 miles but feels like 10 more, with plenty of opportunity to go wrong. So just getting round is a big deal. I walked slowly back through Broughton to the village hall reflecting on the run, taking photos of flowers, autumnal colours and a flattened hedgehog amongst fallen leaves. “No muddy footwear in the hall” so I bent to untie my filthy shoes and both legs seized up with maybe the most disabling bout of cramp all day. I thought I was going to have to ask a passer by to untie my laces. I pulled faces for several minutes hobbling round in small circles. I had tried various things to combat the cramp – from drinking 500mls of Nuun electrolite drink beforehand, to adding an asprin to the drink I carried. (Thinking it was maybe dehydration thickening my blood.) Perhaps I should just drink more while running – it does seem worse when the weather is warmer. Gio seemed to suffer even more – he has in the past run all the downhills in the second half of the Skyline backwards, facing the hill – no mean feat. Or maybe this was just a scam to get the front seat on the way home. (Thanks to Andy F for the lift.)
Now that's a prize givingHowever all the hardships of the day were forgotten over a bowl of hot soup, rolls and a feast of fruitcake. And for the non-drivers as many free beers as you like (to compliment the bottle every finisher gets). Top marks! The prizegiving was also exceptionally generous; going way down the finishing list with loads of age group prizes and team prizes. They must have given away 200~300 bottles of Broughton Ales finest. One very impressive “prize” was several cases of beer for the marshals to share, a very good way to reward those who volunteered to spend half a day on top of some pretty blustery hills. Many thanks to them and to organisers Peter and Elsie Baxter and all who helped. A very good event, highly recommended.
Report pb
Photos pb, Steven Fallon
SHR results, organiser's report and photosThis just in... (pictures many thanks to Ian and Anne Nimmo)
I will keep this short as Peter’s tres bon pictures tell the story. Fantastic day out; hills, heather, pain, sun, fantastic views, police let me oot to play for the day and free bevy at the end. What more are you wanting?
Chris Upson even gave me a bottle of beer from his prize which is hugely appreciated as I cannae get the full range of Broughton Ales in the shops and this 10am curfew is causing me problems.
Old man struggles onto tableHardest part of the day was refilling Peter’s glass. Great fun working a hand pump on a keg of ale. It is an all inclusive day oot before I had to return to the cells. The police officer in the photo has run the race which is more than can be said about Constable Aitchison. He wants to know how he will do in Dublin?
Get your finger out, stop being a wimp at 18 mile, have some raw meat at 18, get some blood in the mouth and attack the cse. Lottery numbers are 1314, 3.24.
Peter has already thanked the main players for putting on one of Scotland’s great shows and hopefully next year some of you will take up the challenge of the Two Breweries. Peter managed a PB and will be quicker next year.
Vive PRC, Ecosse Ya Bass,
Graham Henry
Graham still having fun in the last mile. Photo Chris Upson
