Stuc a'Chroin 5000 Hillrace 5/05/07
Never done this one before as it always seems to fall on the same weekend as Edinburgh to North Berwick. Last year we did that beast but proximity to the FLM made everything beyond about 18 miles deeply wearysome. So this year, almost on a whim, Mary and I decided, for a change of scenery, to drive up to Strathyre and do the Stuc a'Chroin hill race.
Years ago in the mists of time before I had even started running we spectat (past tense of spectate?) the Stuc. Hiking in the tourist route to Glen Ample (what a charming place name) we watched our pal Jim belt down the hill from Meall Mor then hare up the other side to Beinn Each. I think I likely poured scorn on such a reckless pursuit while we waited an hour or more (possibly smoking cigarettes!) before Jim returned at the head of the field back down the hill from Bealach nan Cabar and back over Meall Mor. We made him open his winning bottle of whisky in camp that night and drank so much that it flavoured the tour of the Mamores the following day. On the drive home he pointed out the ridge from the north that he had run along but it was to be 8 or 9 years until I experienced it first hand.
Asking around to get an idea of what we were in for produced furrowed brows and words of warning. Lucy, having recced the course didn't feel the need to compete in the race though she had seen it in the snow so probably it seemed worse. We hoped. Anyway having done Lochaber Marathon a fortnight ago we really didn't fancy trying to shave a few seconds off North Berwick again and thought the Stuc would put less pressure on, and anyway if it's the first time you do a race doesn't that mean a pb certainty? If you survive.
The weather was perfect - bright but not too warm and a light breeze to blow the sweat from your brow. I got number 69 which was lucky as it reads the same no matter which way up your corpse lies at the bottom of the gully. The race costs a mere £6 to enter and before you even start they give you a goody bag from Tiso with a variety of gels and energy drink powders worth £5.25. And a pen. And the poly bag you can use for the remains of your fetid socks after the race. Then they have about 40 marshals at regular intervals giving you a swig from a 2 lt bottle of Highland Spring water, another sponsor. By the end of the race you have probably done the equivalent of having kissed most of the competitors. Who could ask for more?
With no fuss and no speeches we are set off. I start about the middle of the pack and overtake folk steadily as we climb on pretty forestry tracks that rise and run parallel to Loch Lubnaig over to the right. Just before the start the sun was threatening to come out so I put on a white baseball cap that looks a bit dim but might help keep the sun out my eyes. Over such terrain nobody wears sunglasses. Quite a number carry fluids, others just the regulation bum-bag with body cover, compass, map and whistle. One or two disregard the rules and run unhindered. I have decided to carry a small bottle full of salty sports drink and compressed a couple of caffeine gels in with the body cover. Just before the start I had a Viper Bar - the equivalent of a small café's worth of caffeine - and a caffeine gel. I carry and consume a further 2 gels. Ten hours later I am still shimmering.
Mary ends strongly - that's the finish line in the background12 minutes along the big track, it turns a corner and we follow a smaller track. 6 minutes later and we duck into a soft, dark plantation of pine trees; feet beating a tattoo on the hollow sounding ground. The path rises and we pop out through a forest perimeter fence that climbs steadily to the high ground of Meall Mor. (565) Well that wasn't too bad. (I only lost a couple of pints of sweat.) Then down some steep stuff, some very steep stuff and the downhill boys go streak past like battleships with guns blazing. I am telling myself it's a long day and there's no point breaking an ankle trying to race someone to the bottom of the first hill. This is the point we first saw Jim all these years ago. There are a number of kind looking souls handing out water and jelly babies. We plough on through the marshy ground and up the incline to Bienn Each. Since I hadn't been trying to climb this hill all these years ago I hadn't noticed quite an important aspect here. Its vertical. Not like quite steep, but actually you can use your hands to hold onto the heather and metal fence posts and haul yourself up. Nobody is running. It is like going up a ladder. Also the “path” is one person wide so nobody can overtake. The guy 2 ahead is in trouble so we all patiently go at his pace. I am very pleased its not me holding us up. Nobody complains but at the first chance the guy 1 ahead ducks off to the side and overtakes. Trying not to show reluctance, me next. The climb goes on for ever and ever and I think it is just over the hour when things start to level off then a lady draws on your number with a marker pen as you wheeze past the summit and gives you a sympathetic look like a lamb to the slaughter and you begin a series of ups and downs from Beinn Each (813) along the ridge to Stuc a'Chroin (975). Its rarely flat and runable for more than 10 yards before you're up and over some collection of boulders then down some very-dainty-footwork-near-vertical-drop. Every 200 yards there's a cheery marshal offering you a Highland Spring kiss and pointing you towards what seems like an unlikely way off the mountain towards certain death. I looked up to see the view 1½ times and although it was a bit hazy looked like it would repay the effort. I went down twice - tired feet bumbling downhill, woops, and back up again no harm done. I saw blood spilt and Mary saw worse.
Then the leaders appear. They have already been to the Stuc and had their numbers markered by another lady and are now on their way home. They go faster than you could drive a sports car down the hill and to add to the merriment are taking the same route down we are struggling up. Best tactic is no sudden moves. Don't wait until a Carnethy is just about upon you then try to side step because they're going to do the same. Oops sorry. Well that means the top must be soon. I am still saying this to myself ages later as we scramble up a loose pile of shale and gravel and a Bellahouston sets off a small avalanche of rock. Jill Mykura zooms past and although its difficult to see everyone and keep your eyes on the path there seems to be no other women runners ahead.
Off-road Tony still going strong
Tony and Gio - Graham's pal from circuitsLong after I feel I will ever enjoy ascending again we come to the top. I push my stopwatch at 1.38.30 and hope I have the legs left for the return journey. About 2/3s of the way back to Beinn Each we drop off the ridge and down a lovely soggy path between the heather towards the crossing at Glen Ample. The weather is beautiful, I'm firing along the well marked single track and life is good. We pass the same water and jelly baby folk and a lady says, “that's a funny tune.” Its news to me I'm making any audible noise, and I wonder at what point I left my body. The fast bit has wrecked my legs and as we begin a torturously wet and steep ascent I feel them stiffen and cramp horribly. I am drawn up short and fish out the 2nd gel. I tell another Bella guy that I am liking the mud. I stomp through the soggy, enjoying the cooling wet on my hot feet. My legs ease up and I am catching up with a solidly built guy towards the top. As we crest the hill then begin the descent he steps in a marsh up to his knee and nearly goes over. I let out a whoop and we get talking. He wonders if we will make 3 hours. I was actually thinking we could do better than that but it depends, I felt, on those constricting snakes that can squeeze your legs to useless surrender at any moment. I have finished my salty sports drink and now must rely on Highland Spring and no sudden movements. Any jarring sets off the cramp. We follow the deer-fence for ages and then under and into the dark and piney place. I am trying to corner the sharp turns smoothly and in no time we are out onto the forestry paths. 2.30ish Now if I can do these last trails in the same time (18 mins) as I ran up here, I can do under 2.50 which will be faster than I thought possible. I am excited and let my marathon training set the pace. I look to see who I can catch. After 6.30 we meet the bigger trail and the descent steepens. I am flying now and just have time for one big mistake - to cut the corner of a hairpin bend jumping down a steep slope; my right leg takes the brunt of the impact and is shot through with hideous cramp from my calf to my thigh. I try to run but my leg has been tied to an invisible splint. I stop and rub it while 2 folk go past. It frees up slowly and soon I get one place back, and we are on the last couple of hundred yards just a corner and across the field. I nearly died of cramp one marathon trying to show off in the last 100 yards, so I am warned and my brain is shouting STEADY as I cross the gravel path and the slight rise into the tussocky field. Both legs seize up entirely and any ideas of a fine finish are shredded as I do a drunken Douglas Bader impression. Children are possibly asking parents why the bad man is rubbing his thighs and growling obscenities. I fell over the line and remained on the ground for about 15 minutes till I could get my legs out the vice.
any spare change?
2.45 Very pleased. A brilliant day out. Highly recommended. A spectacular change from the coast road to North Berwick. Probably worth doing a couple of training runs in the hills beforehand though. Had to stop twice on the drive home (only 60 miles) to get my legs out the glove compartment.
Peter Buchanan 2.45.53
Gio MacDonald 2.52.57 (may yet see the light and join PRC)
Mary Hunter 3.36.54
Tony Stapley 3.41.11To put Mary's excellent time in perspective last year Graham did 3.22, year before 3.10. However we did get perfect conditions this year. The route can take its toll though...
Gio lost his sole near the race end
Mary's foot.Report and photos Peter Buchanan
More photos on the Carnethy site here or SHR site here
