Benbecula Half 2/06/07 (Heb2)
This report from guest beer Alison Wilkie aka Mrs Kemp. Although Alison is not (yet) a member of PRC she is one of the elite group to aspire to run all five Heb3 half marathons this year. Ben had planned to run all five but injury forced him to spectate at Benbecula. Any suggestion that it was the weather that put him off would be very wrong.....
The race started in Edinburgh, when we knew that only a fair wind, no caravans, and a Volkswagen PB would get us to the ferry in time. Though good spirited, it was a nail-biting, hair-raising drive from start to finish. We arrived in Portree 20 minutes before sailing and there was no turning back; it was Benbecula or bust. A few ‘phone calls to the Uig ferry terminal and our gentle hero in the ferry office assured us he would do his very best to hold the boat for us. We screeched to a halt at the edge of the pier, abandoned our car (engine running, doors wide open), and ran shamefully towards the heckling crowd on the top deck, grasping our trailing belongings as the doors clanged shut behind us.
A lovely, bright, warm, breezy crossing lulled us all into a false expectation of good weather. That night, though, as hotel-dwellers were ensconced in their comfortable beds, we hardy tent-dwellers stoically battled against winds that howled mercilessly across the flat landscape while horizontal torrents of rain crushed our tents. The campsite owners even took pity on us and invited us in for a pre-race coffee.
But there was no use in procrastinating- the race would not be cancelled for something as minor as a hurricane. As the only participating representative of the Kemp-Wilkie duo, I took my responsibility very seriously: knew I’d have to run. And what a run it was to be! We all made our way to the start line, some smiling cheerfully, some smiling miserably, and some not bothering to smile at all. The first 4 miles were something of a breeze, with the wind directly behind us. Then there was a turn to the right, and the wind was side on. Every change in direction after that took us more directly into the ever-strengthening wind. The battle was fun for the first few miles into the wind, but then the rain drops, tiny sharp prickling pins of stinging pain initially, grew in volume to large sloshing buckets of warm water. The primary objective of the horizontal rain, it seemed to me, was to penetrate deep into my ear canal, first the right one, then the left one (another change in direction). It was impossible to hear any approaching traffic with the howling wind. As we reached Mile 10, we were dead into the wind and running to stand still. Finally, the last turn in direction brought the wind behind us again (too late to be of any use) and we could just see the wind turbine (having a laugh) at the school near the finish. The course had been fairly flat, but the wind turned in into something of a Munro. Battling on, only a few miles to go, and at Mile 12, I saw Ben, the happy drowned rat, waving at me. ‘Can’t be far now’, I thought. Not surprisingly, there were no cheering supporters at the finish, but I was happy with my most unusual and highly decorative medal, and despite my complaints, I was proud to have run the race.
As I overheard one of the ladies saying in the changing room afterwards, ‘What a wild and crazy adventure!’
Report Alison Wilkie, Photos Ben Kemp
Skye Half Marathon 9/06/07 (Heb3)
Mary with Jim Bruce in his baad ass gangsta running outfitIt was a busy week preceding the Skye half. Back from the states Monday afternoon, back to work Tuesday to Friday. Time to squeeze in club on Wednesday. In order to get away in time on Friday I planned to pack the night before and have Peter meet me at my work car park at 3pm on Friday so we could get out of town fast.
A friend of ours that we hadn't seen in six months turned up on Thursday night so I was packing and chatting. A fatal combination. Come the next day I really didn't have any idea what I had packed, except the essential race kit.
The phone rang Thursday, and it was Willie Jarvie who'd also decided to travel up and thus complete a Portobello men's team.
Friday at 3pm Peter and Willie met me at my work and we made good time out of town. We stopped in Fort William and had a curry before continuing on up to Skye. It's the first time I've had an Indian meal without refreshing cool lagers to drink alongside but I contained myself and just had water. (Peter couldn't resist and had a beer.)
Over the bridge to SkyeWe got to Sligachan campsite on a spectacularly beautiful Friday evening but the place was bedevilled by the most monstrous invasion of midges I've ever encountered. Willie and I pretty much fell to pieces in the face of the marauding swarms. Peter, happily, held it together and got our tents up for us. At one point his head looked like a chimney with thick black smoke coming out of it.
Ben and Alison arrived but we could only have cursory conversations before running for cover. Off we all went to bed without much chat.
Midge hats and funny faces were the best survival techniques.
The white spots are midges caught by the flash.
In the morning they still lay waiting to ambush us. (The midges, not Ben and Alison) Only when the sun started really shining again did they disappear and at last we could relax and have some breakfast and chat a bit before upping sticks and heading for Portree. We didn't have the hugest time margin for getting to the race and getting registered so there was a degree of cliff-hanging tension all the way.
At last we were there, registered, numbers on and fit to go.
I'd been warned about the hills from miles 8 - 11 so I was surprised to encounter some fairly stonking hills in the first three miles. I didn't know what to aim at in this race as I'm a bit tired and its no pb course so I decided race strategy was to stay relaxed as possible while not actually giving places away, definitely not get involved in any energy wasting early spats, and if I had anything left in the latter stages, try to turn the heat up.
At first I felt stiff and out of sorts and rather uncomfortable on the hills but by mile 4 or 5 I was starting to feel a bit more relaxed and in control. At mile 8 you turn up into a long uphill stretch but the wind was behind and it wasn't a steep incline and it suited me rather well. Did I mention it was hot? It wasn't “need medical attention” hot like last year - but it was hot enough. Hot enough for sweat to wash suntan lotion into my eyes and for sweat to drip out of my pony-tail and onto the backs of my calves so I thought it might be raining. Still I was gaining on some folks ahead so I kept it steady and pressed on.
Two cyclists coming the other way told me they thought I was 7th lady. Damn! I knew there were prizes for the first five ladies and 1st vet. I'd seen a bunch of women ahead and had assumed I was out the running, but two places was teasingly close.
I topped out at 11 miles where a nice marshal was offering bottles of water to pour over our heads. Did I mention all the marshals were nice? And there were teams of brownies or guides all offering water along the way.
Down the road I could see one lady not too far ahead so I sneaked up on her slowly and tiptoed by, hoping she wouldn't notice and respond. I chatted briefly with Neil Turner who was a nurse in the psychiatric emergency team when I was there on placement 5 years ago. I hadn't seen him since. He was now based in Skye and had taken up running. I now work in the ward he used to work in. This information was exchanged, on my part anyway, through a series of grunts and clicks. I then thought I better go in search of the 5th lady. Further down the road I met Jim Bruce, Edinburgh based Stornoway runner and integral part of the Heb3. He was having an off day so I told him he was looking good and he offered me encouragement as I went by.
Eventually there she was, looking steady, but was there a sagging in her shoulders? Again I tiptoed by as imperceptibly as possible, trying not to look like a threat.
It was a long downhill in the heat and I was musing on many things when I suddenly did a last minute dodge as I realised a car was coming right for me. Another runner came flying past me in a blue and white shirt commenting it would have been a shame to run so far only to get squashed under a car. The last 2 miles usually require a certain amount of internal discussion in a half marathon. Along the lines of “It's a long way” “No its not a long way, its only 2 miles; Bert makes you do 2 mile intervals for God's sake” “Hurry up” “I'm tired”. That kind of thing. The Skye half marathon distinguishes itself in being a 13.8 mile half marathon (?) So all that went on a bit longer. Now that I was past my 2 women I had to keep going as best I could as I didn't want anyone passing me back. And on it went to the finish. Nobody passed me. Hurray. I thought the announcer had said 4th or 5th woman but I wasn't sure until the prize-giving. The Heb3 race prizes are legendary. For my 5th place finish I got a huge framed photograph of myself. (What could be better?) Hand made chocolates, tablet, a bath bomb and a lavendar candle. Also, everyone got a free swim and a lavish spread of soup, rolls, cake and cups of tea.
Ben came in in 3rd place despite having to back off training recently for injury. Portobello men took the team prize; a case of lager. HBT Ivor Normand commented that if HBT had won it they'd have to give it away as it is not brown beer. Luckily, Portobello does not follow strict rules about what its members eat and drink and we were able to enjoy the lagers ourselves. Alison (Ben's wife) finished in good style, this being her 3rd half of the Heb3. She showed herself to be developing a true road runner's mentality by being annoyed she didn't go under 2 hrs for this one despite it being hot, hilly and long. (Many people don't do 3 half marathons in a year Alison, don't give yourself a hard time!)
Willie's knee had been giving him jip since the marathon so he was pleased to find this didn't give him much trouble. Peter was disappointed to be 11th and so just out of the prizes. (The first 10 men all get prizes.) Still he ran well and felt okay.
We all retired for drinks (soft for me, designated driver) on the grass outside a hotel in Portree. There we had a chat with some Helensburgh folk (no sign of Julia). Finally we went our separate ways. Ben and Alison were away to a hotel to celebrate their anniversary. We offered to come along but...
We scratched our heads and decided to head back as far as Fort William and then, as long as there was a breeze, camp at the camp-site there, to break up the journey home. I was pleased (to cut a long story short) to finally be able to have a beer too! I'd been getting jealous.
There were midges, but nothing like Skye. In the morning, Willie, Peter and I went for a recovery run at a nice easy pace up the river that runs down Glen Nevis, until we came to a bridge and some superb waterfalls, then back down the road.
We finally got back to Edinburgh on Sunday evening, burnt, midge-bitten, exhausted but happy.Report Mary Hunter
Photos the usual suspects + helpers
A winning combination.
