Lairig Ghru Race 29/06/08
There was less snow on the hills on Sunday than this would suggestWe train all winter for a Spring marathon then begin a taper 3 weeks prior. But for this – a longer-than-marathon* hill run with a wild and rugged off road course involving river crossings and run over an historic drove road rising to 2733' that will require considerably more stamina and ingenuity to get round in one piece, we race the Wednesday before and treat like a Sunday Training Run. To further add to the casual attitude Scott F decides at the last moment to sign up and ropes his dad into the role of chauffeur and drinks caddy.
(*Course length advertised as 28 miles but two independent Garmin readings say 26.7 miles. MotionBased website interprets this as just over 27 miles. However it did feel and take a lot longer than a marathon.)
Pretty scenery but small roads between Perth and Braemar
We got up just after 5am to have breakfast and get prepared to leave Edinburgh 6.30am. Not keen on such early starts but the original plan to camp the night before in Invercauld Caravan Park, Braemar, had been put on hold when my toe sent me a poison pain letter. On Wednesday we ran the bog and burn and somewhere along the way an over zealously trimmed toenail (large one right foot – the Driver) probably picked up some bog-germs. A rain-soaked trainer all day at work following day may have developed the evil brew until I noticed a painful swelling making walking uncomfortable Thursday night then really sore Friday at work. Getting the craft knife out to relieve the pressure I made a couple of incisions but to no avail apart from focussing the pain. Nurse Mary later had a joust with a needle but largely no dice. We felt a night chez nous with a poultice from the chemist to draw the evil out would be best use of the time and that the night in one's own bed the best recuperation. I couldn't have run 5 miles Saturday but by Sunday I was on the starting line to run 26.7 with a couple of paracetamol the extra friends in my race kit bumbag. It was the first time I had run since Wednesday and probably a semi-fortunate accidental taper. The toe felt okay – maybe like I had already run a race on it but within bearable pain thresholds.
87 started with admirable informality and soon we were galloping up the tarmac roads Adrian had warned me to not to get carried away on. Lucy was off promptly, here to defend her impressive record, and a little wary of the quality runners visible around the small town of Braemar. However at least one was there in support mode rather than running and it wasn't too long before Lucy re-established her credentials. I could see her up ahead though not going as flat out as Don Naylor who looked like he was doing the 1500m from the rate he took off. Last year Paul Raistrick, Highland Hill Runners broke Don's previous record of 3.07 to do 3.04.25 and it looked like Don was out to reclaim it.
Dan Gay followed but was 100 yards adrift in the first mile. A couple of little red squirrel corpses on the road, cream tummies and hands folded as if in repose were sad to see, but I didn't have the time to scoop them up to take home, wash and make dance on the mantlepiece. (Later on a gull, dead like a doorstop, eyed a leary look from behind a stone.)
GeoffScott and I started together but got split up and I led for a bit hitting the off road section first and getting in tow with HBT Geoff who has moved to near this neck of the woods and (having run this one before) could probably advise about river crossings and routes through the boulder fields. We ran alongside each other, joined by Megan Wright (HBT) who confessed she had the habit of going off too fast then fading. Imagine that? We were ahead of Lucy and Scott at this point and I looked behind now and again to see if they were close by. Occasional glimpses of Scott about 100 yrds behind. The ground was really very good quality cinder path and runnable grassy/dirt tracks. Alas not for long. Also the wind seemed to be stronger and more in our faces than the weather forecast had promised. Not another marathon into a headwind.
Gio suffered from cramp from the Pools of DeeThe toe was okay but about an hour into the race I realised I was favouring the injury leading to twitches of cramp in my hamstring so took the paracetamols which allowed me to jump streams and dance over rocks with less hindrance, and it stopped the hamstring twitching.
And that river crossing. Geoff had said there were 2 river crossings and was happy to soak his hot feet in the cold water. I felt it would be asking for trouble and knew there was a bridge upstream which would add only a couple of minutes and keep troubled feet dry maybe discouraging blisters. I didn't know we crossed rivers twice. However the first crossing was a nice white wooden bridge and behind us with such little fuss that when we came to the second and real crossing I thought it was the first.
Geoff and Megan were just in front and waded through the ankle deep water. I saw an unlikely array of stepping stones and taking a long measure of the widest gap which had the potential to produce a slip bang crunch splosh, jumped for all I was worth and landed solid as granite on the upward slope – thank you Montrails. Ahh... dry feet past the second crossing. Only I thought it was the first. And related very little of the landscape we were in to the laminated map I had studied the night before. Very difficult to take in surroundings as eyes were glued to the path which had become very rocky and tricky to run smoothly over. At the river I lost touch with my gang as I stooped to fill a freezer bag with water which I drank out a hole in the corner. Scott was right on my tail and crossed with another runner who managed to go deep and seemed to become fully immersed for a short while. I pressed on up the hill but Geoff was well away and it took some time to catch up with Megan. 2 guys went past her and I followed, letting them set the pace as we were now out the headwind and again I was able to keep a decent rattle over the stones and small boulders descending into a valley.
Some time later about the 2 hr mark I hear footsteps and wondering if it was Scott saw Lucy approaching. Now in first lady position she floated past and in 15 minutes had disappeared off the radar. Very impressive.
Ages later and I realised we must be getting closer to the boulder fields and the Pools of Dee that marked the highest point. After that, all downhill into Aviemore. It was only about now I realised we had done the river crossing. Feet became soaked anyway on the waterlogged track which regularly ran like a river. Frequently, better runners came past. (I don't know where they had been hiding until now.) I had been hoping to shadow Geoff through the boulders but instead just followed the path and/or my nose. I could see Scott not far behind but mostly kept eyes on the very dangerous ground underfoot. It was tricky trying to keep even a jogging pace through the rocks. We were also visited by gusts of wind and blasts of rain which weren't too bad but may have looked odd for the hillwalkers in their oilskins to see runners in vests and shorts dodge past with the rain drizzling off them. Most were polite or encouraging and stood to one side.
A couple of Mountain Rescue Troopers with some sort of tent thing stood just before the road down. I shouted “all downhill now” and they agreed. Though when I say road I mean brickfest, waiting to trip and bruise the unwary, careless or tired. And when I say down well it sort of came and went. Enough up hill to make you stop and check you were going the right way. Also there seemed to be more than the 2 Pools of Dee advertised on the map. A long quad-bashing descent later and the path went over the river and off to the right. Aviemore seemed to be directly ahead and due to corners and hills I couldn't see the runners ahead. It was a real worry until the ground opened out and I spied 2 guys in the distance. Some good running, but also a lot bad; rock-hopping and boulder dodging.
At last some trees in sight. For a long while I had been turning over the phrase, Rothiemurchus Forest – you're not out the woods yet. Scott seemed to be getting closer but annoyingly not catching up so we could have a chat about how awful the running was. A couple of spectators waiting at the start of the woods had some welcome water bottles. The guy offered me a drink which was really appreciated as the wind whipped the moisture out a body. I accidentally slobbered over the bottle thinking well Scott is going to get poison toe bugs as he was right behind. This was what I was thinking when my feet were whisked away and I went down heavily. This was no dropped shoulder roll at the cross country but more a dive for the touchdown but without the soft grass. I thumped the gravel path so heavily it shot grit into my mouth. I skinned both knees, put a black ladybird check into the heel of my hand and got some love bites on the insulation round my middle. (Not in the same league as Julia at Stornoway though.) When Scott came round the corner he said my legs were in the air. I ushered him onwards and dusted myself down then followed, trying to get some use out of the adrenaline rushing round my exhausted limbs. We ran on together looking for Ferguson Senior who was carrying water and special potion bottles for us somewhere unspecified around here. A long grim stretch later where we stumbled through beautiful woods in the sunlight and eventually popped out onto the road, made it clear we were not going to be seeing our pre-prepared drinks and the realisation was very hard on our very tired souls. (In fact Scott's dad had seen us on a parallel path and ran after us unable to get our attention. “Why didn't you throw a bottle at us?” I asked helpfully.
However there was a water table set up as we joined the road and I had a gel and 3 cups of water which picked me up. I offered Scott a gel but he had fished around in his bumbag and come up with a block of fudge or tablet which he later said was about as easy to swallow as a large brick of Lego. I tried to rally the troops (seeing Geoff 200 yards ahead) but the troops were close to mutiny. Happily nobody was right behind as we picked it up to a full jog and set off towards the finish. The tarmac seemed very easy going by comparison but I couldn't remember how long we had to go. I didn't dare ask Scott how far he had on his Garmin - although he had accidentally reset it when he fell. And soon we passed a sign that said half a mile to Aviemore. Oh good. Some wags held out a pint of lager from a pub like a drinks station and I shouted I was tempted. Onto the Main Street and I pushed with all remaining oomph while watching Geoff continue onwards about 75 yrds ahead. Just where is the Police Station please make it soon. After a long run up the street at last we could stop, Holy Moly I was ready to stop. I was going to wait for Scott and cross the line together since we did the whole race within a few hundred yards of each other but I was no longer thinking straight and also hurrying to break the 4hr mark which was rapidly chasing us down the street.
I'm afraid this one probably gets the “never again” qualification though some of it was very attractive. The last 5 miles down through the woods were really amazing but you have to run 21 pretty tough miles to get there, and by that time I was racked with pain. We got reasonable conditions this year though there seemed to be a general agreement that most times were slower than previous years. Perhaps the strong winds at certain points, a lot of cramping legs, perhaps just a heavy gravity day. Mr Naylor 'only' managed about 3.10 and Lucy was disparaging about her time - 15mins shy of her record (though did scoop first lady and ½ team prize). (However she is moving house this weekend so had an excuse and a short night's sleep.) I had quite a good nights sleep, the toe behaved itself (though looks a bit funny and waterlogged) and I was still 8 long minutes in her wake. I think I will stick to racing her over short courses (when she has been out running earlier.)
And so it comes to my attention that I'm built for speed rather than distance. I can see why PRC's first man of endurance, Mr Henry, didn't rate this course – the stones, the boulders, the rocks, the brickfest; its just not civilised running, constantly looking to trip you up and rob you of your teeth. That said it was lots of laughs (just trying to get fresh socks on during the 1.5 second intermission between bouts of cramp.) And great to see (relatively) new PRCer Robert (above) trying out a major endeavour like this which would put a shudder down many a braveheart's spine. I wouldn't be surprised to find myself having another crack at it once the memory fades a bit. And I enjoyed the banter with the other runners afterwards (and the free soup and roll) even though we had to spend 1hr40 on the bus back to Braemar before the 2hr plus drive home, all the time practising pelvic floor exercises as the glutes were giving me big jip. Still are.
However can't complain: nothing was as bad as the poor travel-sick guy in the back of the bus going over the winding and hilly road back to Braemar barking into a carrier bag. Now that is a harsh way to end a long day out.
Report and photos pb
MotionBased analysis of gps data and conditions. MotionBased interpreted the 26.7m Garmin data as being 27.1 miles.
Weather Data
Average Low High
Temperature (°F) 60.1 55.4 62.6
Relative Humidity (%) 71.1 63.6 77.2
Wind Speed (mph) 20.8 17.2 26.5
Predominant Wind Direction: WSW
Weather Station: Dundee / RiversideText message from Scott the following day
Man I hurt... Finger, toes, ass and ankle!! I'm too young to feel this old!
I asked Scott for a report and photo of his finger injury - I think he slapped a rock when he fell - it looked like a bad stave / bruise. No documentary evidence as yet.Just in, Scott's reminiscences...
Where do I start…?
I think that in most races ignorance is bliss, it gives you a certain confidence that you need for a good start. It generally works for me anyway, not knowing what you are about to embark on.
The start of the race (this is the last time I will use the word ‘race’ as it will forever be an epic toe stomping, ankle twisting, masochists adventure run to me!) is from Breamar police station along a tar hilly road over a bridge then on to a gravel path up and over a few more small hills. Then over or through the river, across some sponge bog then on to a trail…
This for me is where I wished I weighed a lot less than I do and that I had size 5 feet. I’m not sure as to the exact mile but at some point the path turned into a rockery and I found that I was unable to run with any confidence or look up. On the brief occasions that I managed to look up and see Peter ahead of me I either twisted an ankle again or fell over. The fact that I was in the middle of Scotland’s most scenic mountain range past me by; I saw nothing but a disappearing Peter and my feet for miles.
The only saving grace for me was that after the Pools of Dee the path was to get better. It got worse just before it! A mile of boulder hopping over what I found almost hand and feet stuff. Then the fabled forest path, this was the first time in what felt like hours that I managed a ‘run’. Seeing Peter dive into a bush and jump up with the ‘I’m fine’ expression on his face made me think twice about every footing from then on.
The finish for me is sort of a blur… cramp in legs, sore hand and side from fall, dehydration and almost choking myself on a whole piece of tablet! I got there in the end and I don’t really care about the time! I survived with all 9 ½ toes and still have the ability to run.
Would I do it again???
I would have to get in some training where you kicked a brick up a hill in your bare feet whilst simultaneously doing a faster version of ‘river dance the musical’ with one eye on your feet and the other ahead.
Chances are slim… but never say ‘never’…
Scott Ferguson
Robert's report...
I entered the Lairig Ghru just over 2 weeks ago as this would probably be my last chance to run a distance off road race before the Devil (o the Highlands) in August.
I had mixed feelings before the race as on my long run the Sunday before; running from the Omni Centre, along the canal path to bridge 14, turning off to go to Balerno and then back to the Omni Centre, I ended up getting the bus back from Balerno to the Omni Centre! Not a good sign.
After waking up at 5am to an unsympathetic alarm clock, I headed up the road with a belly full of porridge. The forecast looked awful but the signs were that running conditions could be good. The race is fairly low key with no one aware that a race is taking place except the runners and Cairngorm mountain rescue team who man the checkpoints. Without the backup and support of the Cairngorm mountain rescue team, this race would not take place.
The Lairig Ghru is advertised as a hill race covering 28 miles from the village of Braemar to Aviemore. As mentioned in Peter's report, two different Garmins measured this at 26.7. At the end of the run, I was not complaining I was 1.3miles short, in fact I whole heartedly approved by the time I crossed the finish. The start is fairly gentle – unless your name is Donald Naylor from HBT who tore of quickly beyond the horizon to finish in 3h10m - on tarmac roads before hitting the off road trails and a steady climb. During the 1st 4 miles of the race I developed a stitch after over indulging on one cereal bar and two bananas a couple of hours before the start. How do people manage to run and eat at the same time?
Beyond this is a modest river crossing should you chose not to take the bridge route a few hundred meters further up the track. I suppose describing the crossing as modest depends if you keep our balance on some of the shooglie boulders as you attempt to hop skip and jump across or decide instead to take the wade through option if you're unlucky enough to fall in. As it was, I managed to keep upright and waded through with water half way up my calves – quite refreshing actually. Note to organisers, please reroute river to finish line as this would be good for cooling the old legs.
Very quickly after the crossing, I hit the boulder fields or is that the boulder fields hit me. As much as I tried to lift my feet over, my toes had an attraction to the boulders as does the buttered side of toast to the floor. I tried to run over parts of the boulder as and when I thought I could but after several toe bashings and one fall later I succumbed to self preservation and made my way through the boulder field at walking pace.
Picture from Lairig Ghru review here thanks to Tim DownieGetting to Rothiemurchus Forest was a welcome site even if there was still around another 10ish miles to go. 18 were behind me. A few more runners passed me and looking back I could see no one in the distance following. A few more miles later and a bridge in the forest, I could see one of the runners who had previously passed me further up the track. He must have slowed as I don't think I had managed to pick up my pace since being passed earlier. This gave me some encouragement and a target and I picked the pace up to a whopping 9min mile pace! If I had hair, I'm sure I would have felt the breeze through it.
The last few miles were kind as it was mostly flat or downhill with very little in the way of major climbs. I kind of lost my way through Aviemore. There are no huge crowds are banners to indicate where the finish line is and I was looking all over thinking I had maybe missed a side turn even though I'm sure the instructions said it was on the main road by the pub. The marshals were on the look out and waved indicating that I needed to cross the road and it would all be over in 50 meters. And 5h10m later it was.
The weather was overall very favourable for running and there wasn't a midge in sight. Would I do it again? Without a doubt at least one more time. I have a time to beat and with another 12 months of training in the bank I'm sure I could knock 40 minutes off.
Full results posted here
