Dunbar 10 Mile Multi-Terrain Race 1/10/05Back again to the excellent Hallhill Sports facility. (Working lockers, hot showers for the whole field and soup-n-s
andwiches after.)
This one is a personal favourite - a fast 10 miles (perhaps nearer 9½?) along a selection of surfaces from dirt tracks and lumpy-bumpy to turfy grass and a few miles of fast tarmac. It used to be called a hill race to warn the road runners it climbs up to a trig point at five miles; but I think the hill runners complained about how much rubber off their Walshes they were losing to the tarmac, so it became multi-terrain. Although the course is a large loop and makes sense on a map, when you are running it, it seems less instinctive and would be easy to get lost were it not so well marked and marshalled. Choice of shoes is tricky; you need fast light ones for the road but trail shoes would help more going through the fields and on the dirt paths. Since the weather had been dry I opted for light road shoes.
Some of us ran up to 3 miles warm-up before the race while others (Karen) felt you could get too much of a good thing. Then we went to the start at the exit of t
he field. There was a huge Portobello contingent: 21 in all. A fifth of the total. As the gun went Andrew Jeske shot out in the lead doing a hundred yard sprint which is Graham's signature dish for this particular race. Graham shouted as much but there was no stopping Andrew. Kenny then replied that we looked like we had the team prize in the bag, as Ben, myself, himself and other PRCers followed closely. It was a hilarious, bold and gripping start and I later heard that further down the field people were also going out too fast, caught up in the stampede.
The route winds round the outskirts of Dunbar then heads out of town before turning up a lane, going under an underpass and up a gravelly dirt path. Between some trees, across some more grass to a steep short rise and wall to climb, then skirting round more fields and more of the same. All this time Ben is out front in the lead position and Kenny and I are a distance behind. I am hopeful because nobody has come through to challenge our 1,2,3 and usually by now folk settle into something like the order at the finish. With every minute that passes I begin to wonder when the challenge will come. Between some out buildings then turn up right for a long slog up a farm road. Recent hill training in the p
entlands have made my uphill legs stronger and it doesn't seem as bad as previously. I have felt slowed to a walk as folk sprint past before, but this time nobody. I am glad to finish the climb but now we have the next torture; fields. There are 2 parallel paths on the boundaries of each and you choose whichever looks smoothest. As you run, it feels so lumpy and uneven you think the other must be the better choice and so waste 3 steps in turfy grass crossing to find it is even worse. I spent the terrible moments crossing these blessed fields trying to quantify the deciding factors; less wind nearer the wall - did I say there was a pretty stiff breeze going on? - and perhaps some shade from that, versus the farmer putting the biggest stones to the outermost edge of his field making that path least runnable. There was no right answer and no way to find an easy route. Kenny was getting some wind cover by tucking in behind me across the fields and I enjoyed a wry smile as he also had to dodge from one track to the other to get the benefit. He later said he popped out looking to go past but with the wind and underfoot conditions he couldn't muster the troops. I was much gratified. All this time Ben is gaining ground, disappearing off into the distance. A hope is gathering and beginning to catch.
Then, just for comedy, we get some crop cuttings on our paths. Some leftover harvestings that Ben described as being like runni
ng on mattresses. More swapping to and fro but with bouncing. After endless miles of this assault course we leave that field and get into another, this time crossing diagonally and up the steepness of the lumpy grass to the trig point at the top of the course. Legs are singing songs of pain and weary hill miles. A marshal and some folk at the top give us encouragement, but it is them that are doing the hard work - standing exposed, in the cold wind - and us that are having the fun. I think.
With the worst of the up behind us, Kenny immediately picks up the pace, and I remember I heard him say earlier, “...prefer the downhill.” This becomes apparent and he establishes himself in second place despite my attempts to hold on. Ben was careful descending from the topmost hill, trying not to trip or fall. Kenny showed no restraint and took off like a rocket down the uneven grass before the right tu
rn and then left to where Ben was now only just visible on the long straight paths, surely uncatchable. Knowing he didn't know the course, I hoped he didn't make any wrong turns as this was the only thing that could stop him. The team prize - as Kenny had joked - was looking good too.
There was still a lot to do and shortly I became aware of the next man behind me. A marshal directed us through another long double field, and after a few months of going across that, I had the feeling I was a deal closer to number four than before. I saw Kenny turn right and open the throttle on a big swooping downhill road I remembered from last year. I took a look over my shoulder as I turned right and sure enough I was being caught. I enjoyed the road and the turn of speed it provided thinking that will make the next guy thi
nk twice but he must have had his shreddies and was alongside in no time. I cheerfully said well done though they weren't the two words I had in mind really. He went past in such a way that I felt I wouldn't be making it a Porty 1,2,3. This spoiled my idea of neatness, but I was glad to see Kenny was probably far enough ahead to keep his place and Ben, well he must be back and showering by now.
Determined not to drop any more places I tried to stay with the guy in front. I could see a right turn ahead and for once it wasn't clear whether we take that or go up a smaller continuation of the road before turning right after 30 yards. Kenny took the first right and the runner inbetween us whistled him back. Kenny reappeared going even faster and rejoined the correct route. The guy in front, Ian Sills of Dunbar, then went to where the race direction sign had blown down and tried to stick it back upright. He took a couple of moments to do this, possibly the most generous thing I have ever seen a participant in a race do, before taking a cursory look at myself then heading off. He was right - I posed no threat! But ten out of ten for trying to fix the sign, Ian.
The last mile was much less painful than last year - as it skirts round Hallhill not taking any direct route. Then you pop out of the woods and there is 150 yards to the finish. Along the str
eet and across the field to the finish between the posts. There was Ben. HE HAD WON THE RACE. I was more thrilled about this than my own success as Ben has almost made a craft out of placing as high as possible in races without taking home any prizes. His exceptional training regime won him this race outright and we were all delighted. He was pretty pleased also. In the excitment I didn't manage to find Ian Sills to shake his hand, but I was glad it was such a decent guy (and under 40) that had beaten me.
I ran to get the camera, then snapped others as they came in. Kenny took over photo duties while I changed, then later Lynn took over while I went for a shower. The bright weather seemed to add a shine to a great day and there was sense of anticipation in the sports hall when we gathered for prizegiving. First up and a huge cheer from the two tables of PRCers as Ben went up to get his winners shield. Kenny won second and I won 1st vet. The three of us won the mens' team awards and Mary Hunter, Zoe Leitch, and Lynn Hanley (her first race back after time off due to injury) were presented with the womens' team trophies. We have a history of doing well at this race and as we drove back up the coast I couldn't help but feel the sun was shining on Portobello.
Ben Kemp 56.00
Kenny Leitch 56.51
Peter Buchanan 57.42
Willie Jarvie 1.00.57
Gerry Scullion 1.01.40
Graham Henry 1.02.44
Andrew Jeske 1.04.31
Scott Jarvie 1.04.34
Werner Kittel 1.07.50
Tom Watson 1.07.56
John Pickard 1.09.28
Alan Aitchison 1.12.00
Mary Hunter 1.13.29
Zoe Leitch 1.19.45
Lynn Hanley 1.22.29
Sandra Murray 1.28.23
Karen Munro 1.29.03
Janis Stirton 1.31.47
Louise Kay 1.34.20
Catherine Webster 1.34.20
Claudia Davies 1.37.25Report Peter Buchanan
Photos Peter, Kenny, Lynn, Mary, Ben, others
click on smaller images to enlarge
