I’ve been running ultras since The Speyside Way in August 2011 ever since being cajoled by a certain Mr Mike Raffan whilst sat in Wetherspoons after celebrating my first ever marathon, Loch Ness in Oct the year before.

Since then I’ve completed a fair number though not quite up there with the legend that is Mr McCurdy. Though every one has been tough I’d almost taken finishing them, for granted, something I would later learn you should never do.

Fast forward to Jan 2015. I started a new job that month which impacted on my life way more than I’d expected and none more so than my training. It became all too common to postpone the run to tomorrow with tomorrow being 2 days later. April approached, and with it what would be my 4^th Highland Fling Ultra. As the date neared I became all too aware of my complete lack of training but given I’d  been accepted for the WHW Race 2 months later, I figured I’d start at the back and just enjoy the day with pals and see if I could grind it out. I did, finishing towards the end but no less it was a finish. This was the confidence booster I needed. The lack of training however continued into June and before long I was toeing the line in Milngavie at 1am about to embark on my 3^rd WHW race. Waiting for the horn to sound I had doubts already firmly planted in my head as to my ability being able to “wing it” on such poor preparation. 

These doubts were soon realised when after reaching Rowardennan I had simply ran out of steam and accepted I was done. The trail had kicked my arse and I thoroughly deserved nothing more. You don’t put the effort in, you don’t deserve to succeed.

The months that followed continued the run of poor training to the point where I was dreading going out and when I was out, looking for any reason to stop and walk. I’d previously been so passionate about the virtues of running and would have been able to convert even the most fervent anti-runner to take up the sport. I’d simply fallen out of love of running and I wasn’t sure why.

On the advice of other running pals I realised the best thing I could do would be to take a complete break from running which I did for 3 months. The ‘not having to go out’ bit was great, all this free time to myself and not worrying about the weather outside. In order to shield myself from the guilt I stepped away from the social media pages to avoid the “Joe Bloggs has just ran 18 miles” posts and all the happy ultra runners finishing their amazing races news.

  

Since taking up running 4 years I have become known to most (most of you probably get the same) as ‘that mad ultra runner’ with frequent questions like “So how can you run 95 miles?”.  I was still getting these but knew in myself that runner wasn’t me. It was but not now. Indeed I didn’t even feel I deserved the tag of ‘runner’ anymore.

Over these months I’d debated with myself and been on the brink of accepting perhaps it’s no longer for me. About 2 months ago I decided to get back out and see how I felt. Since resuming I’ve realised how much I’ve missed the invigoration, enjoyment and satisfaction of being out there again. As Glen Ogle Ultra neared I told my training mate Tommy I wasn’t sure if I should do it since the farthest I’d ran since June was about 13 miles. “Don’t be a fanny, you analyse about running too much, just get out there and enjoy yourself” he replied. He was right so last week I decided I was doing it and would just see how it went.

After arriving in Killin, I made my way to registration and at once felt the buzz of race day again, something I’d missed. I met a few of my pals and it was great to see them. After registering and getting my stuff sorted I was back on the line in my first ultra since the WHW.

After the briefing by Bill, we were off. I told myself to settle in and take it nice and easy.

The weather was very overcast and damp but ideal conditions for running. I soon settled into a rhythm and just wanted to keep it going as best I could though half expecting the wheels to fall off at any point. The first 17 miles passed without any issues though I was helped hugely talking to many other runners including Jo who was doing her very first ultra. At this point I realised I might just be able to nail this.

Once on the cycle path towards the viaduct leading back to Killin after the climb out of Strathyre, I could feel the right calf muscle starting to grumble and moan slightly then suddenly it locked vice-like in a tight tennis ball shape bringing me to a complete stand still. As a group of runners passed, each of them kindly calling out asking if I was ok, one chap Ricky stopped and gave me a salt tablet and gel which I gratefully accepted. After a few minutes I was back running, quickly adopting my ‘old man’s shuffle’ pace but moving forwards all the same.

A few mins later as I bent over to scratch an itchy left calf, the same thing happened again, again bringing me to a complete stop. I tried my best to walk and within a few minutes it eased and allowed me to commence a shuffle once more. Before long, I reached the 5th and final checkpoint knowing I never had far to go. Crossing the road Bill shouted some encouragement as I started on the descent towards Killin. 

At this point I was feeling pretty better and picked up the pace slightly. This section however, felt very long with what seems like a never ending woodland trail. I kept pushing on trying to use the runners in front to pull me along. A few miles out I caught up with Frank who hails from Malaysia. Frank overcame a life threatening illness and has since gone on to complete a huge number of ultras all over the globe. He is the epitomy of a true hero and an inspiration to many and it was great being able to share time with him. 

 Photo courtesy of Frank Chong

We chatted and before long we turned left and with it saw and heard the “Falls of Dochart” which was a very welcome sight and sound. We pushed on and was encouraged by Helen Munro and a few others shouting as they passed by in their cars. We continued on and turned left into the park making the final loop of the park to the finish crossing the line together.

 Photo courtesy of Frank Chong 

As I had my medal placed over my head I realised how much I’d missed all of this. I missed the buzz of running free, I missed the buzz of fighting to keep it going when things aren’t going according to plan. I missed the feeling of accomplishment and achievement but most of all I missed the camaraderie, friendship and sense of community that is prevalent in the ultra scene. It truly is special.

Thanks Glen Ogle for making me rediscover just why I fell in love with ultra running and here’s to this being the springboard to a better 2016 I so needed.

Look forward to seeing you all back out on the trails.