Stornoway Half Marathon 27/5/06
The north west coast beyond Ullapool.5 hrs in the car and 2 hrs 45 on the ferry to get there. That and the Loch Leven and Kirkcudbright halves on the same day probably kept a few runners away from the 21st Stornoway Half Marathon.
However it is well worth the effort as the reception is
second to none.
Picked up from the ferry terminal and mini-bused to your choice of overnight accommodation, via the race registration, you are looked after every step of the way. We chose to camp again this year and so were very pleased the rain held off while we set our tents in a very wet field. After a robust meal we hit the sack and the soggy grass turned out to be a very comfortable mattress. At 4 in the morning I woke to the machine-gun rattle of heavy rain and had the thought “the nightmare begins” before turning over and waking up a couple of hours later to the glare of the sun and the chirrup of birds. Greatly cheered up by this I drifted for a bit before sorting out breakfast from within the cocoon of my sleeping bag.
Unlike last year, Mary had come along this time, and she made us all some powerful coffee which had me yabbering all the way to the start line. We packed up moistened tents and walked a mile or so to the Golf Club where the race starts. The coffee made me forget a terrible session last club night where I had to jog home after falling apart about 3 miles into the 6 mile session. It also made me give Richard a pep talk along the lines of “its not about the taking part, but the winning...” Richard had flown to Stornoway and was staying with family, thereby depriving himself of much that is “character forming” (Mr. Kemp's motto,) about the weekend. Anxious that he should not deprive himself any further, and in recognition that we had sufficient numbers for a team, I tried to encourage Richard to engage fully in the competitive nature of the day's event.
We gathered up the top of a hill beside the Lewis College where, after a few words, we set off. There was an absence of the usual “HBT” shout, (reflected in the scoreline later.) Ben and I both enjoyed the downhill first mile leading the field out the castle grounds and towards the town. I noticed Ben meant business immediately - I fell behind during the first mile though I felt my 5.22 wasn't sluggish. He did 5.09! And didn't slow down much in the next few. During the tour of the town centre Terry Coyle went past and while it did occur to me to maybe up the pace I felt I should play it cool and see how things transpired. Terry was on great form and it was a wise move not to try and match his pace. The locals cheered us on and a piper played. Then it was past the harbour and out a road that became a single track that led between the cemetery and the shore, to a sharp turn that skirted the town, dipping into a housing estate or the rural equivalent thereof. A long road into the wind tested the strength. A stiff breeze was available during the first half of the race, before the route turned back into the castle grounds. The halfway marker came just as urban roadrunning turned to trail and cinderpath (with some tarmac.) I enjoy trails and felt that I was now into the stronger half of my race; borne out by the view behind. I had glimpsed a runner about 50 yards behind but half a mile of trails later there was a much greater gulf. Marshals (thank you Samaritans) stood at nearly every turn although some of the many drinks dispensers were taken by surprise. I felt freed up by the lack of chasing pack and really enjoyed from 7 to 10 miles, running through lovely parkland with the sun drying the wet vegetation throwing up aromatic clouds of piney steam. At one point I thought maybe I had taken a wrong turn and ran tensely till the next sign. Every mile was signposted, and there were many helpful volunteers. Ben said the 2 bicycle (the terrain would not have accommodated a car) lead riders did a great job, looking behind and keeping their distance, helping out when a water cup was fumbled. Another local gave me a distance check on the 4th placed runner as we briefly ducked out the undergrowth to hit the tarmac for a stretch before heading back onto the trails to run down the riverside before the route comes down to the sea and you know you have only a short distance along the undulating coast before the last mile marker and then a sharp turn to run the gauntlet of spectators and barbeque-ers over the last 50 yards. A radioed forward message let a commentator identify and announce each runner as they approached the line. It was stuff like that, that reminded me why I was here; the organisation is terrific throughout.
The Love Bug? Any similarity is purely coincidence.I had tried not to let the pace slide at all in the last mile; even though I knew he was hundreds of miles away I couldn't be certain Willie Jarvie wouldn't jump out the bushes and run past me at the finish.
Over the line Ben met me and I found out he had come first and in a remarkable time of 1.18. Mary's gps recorded over 2000 ft of ascent and descent (and, by the way, perfectly distanced mile markers) which almost makes this course a hill run. To get near a pb is unlikely - Ben had gone like the clappers, and was very pleased. Terry had stayed in second place, finishing just under 1.20 and I had managed to hold onto third. In fact it was the least changing of positions I have done in a race - dropping just one place in the first 10 mins and seeing no other competitors in the second half. I was glad I had recovered some form since Wednesday. Mary was still in recovery from over-racing and ran a slow time but enjoyed the course.
This year I was able to enjoy the prizegiving and full spread without the threat of seasickness that last year held. And there was an extra treat as well. After Ben collected a King's ransom - I have never seen such a generous prizegiving - we heard that the third team was HBT, second Stornoway but in first place by a massive 20 seconds of cumulative time was..... well let's just say Richard didn't let us down.
Then, with not even time for a celebratory beer, we made a dash for the ferry, followed by another 5 hour drive back home.
Next week; Benbecula. Man I feel tired.
Report Peter Buchanan,
Photos, Jim Bruce, SRAC, click here for more photos and full results.
Peter, Mary and Ben
Links to other 2006 Heb3 races
Benbecula
Skye
Barra
Harris
