West Highland Way recce runs

I’m told, by those reliably in the know, that I’m now outside of my bragging window for having ran a Half Marathon (like I’m bragging…? But hey, did I mention I ran a half marathon recently?) – so, clearly I had to find something new to go on about. *coughs* - Hey, I don’t know if you’ll have heard that I ran on the West Highland Way on Sunday?!! Yep, I totally did. Me! Trail running! On the West Highland Way! With hills!!

The WHW is a long distance walk, approximately 95 miles long, stretching from Milngavie to Fort William, in Scotland. John is running the WHW Race (95 mile ultra marathon) in a few weeks, and had asked me to join his support team – I leapt at the chance, this race is epic and I consider anyone who does it to be a complete inspiration. Albeit, mad. The only slight problem is I know very little about the route, not being particularly au fait with the WHW apart from the day I volunteered at the Fling (which is ran over the first 53 miles of the route) – but, I’m keen and willing to learn, lol! John had arranged for one of his support runners, George, to come and do a recce run with him the weekend, and Helen asked if I’d come along too, to keep her company, and have a wee run ourselves. Eeek! I said Yes. Of course I did, I’m starting to become almost as insane as the people I socialise with...

I stayed over at Helen and John’s on Saturday night, where I discovered the plan was for two runs. Apparently by then it was too late to back out... o.O Sunday morning arrived, and after a breakfast of eggs and bacon, we headed off to collect a somewhat worried-looking George, hehe. This was going to be a pretty informative day for him, I think! 20+ miles, ran on a terrain he’s unfamiliar with. On the plus side, he’d packed himself a pie, which is apparently proper ultra-runners fare. (If ultra running was only about eating pies, I’d be a podium finisher, I swear.)

We drove to Tyndrum, and dropped the guys off at the Green Welly Stop. They headed off to start their run (we’d meet them briefly at Glencoe, about 17 miles into their run) so Helen and I went down to By The Way to start our own. John had explained that on the day of the Race itself, he’d like me to run a wee bit with him (eeeeeeeeek), and Helen wanted me to get the lie of the land for the tiny section they were intending. We ran from Tyndrum about 2½ miles along the WHW to Auchtertyre – it was a gently undulating route, reasonable underfoot, albeit a bit narrow in sections, and Helen lead me on a 3/1 run/walk pattern, which I found I was surprisingly comfortable with, though I never normally manage a structured run/walk on my own. At the ‘wigwams’, we stopped for a wee bit while she showed me where the route came from, where the checkpoint will be, etc. and then we headed off back to Tyndrum, in the direction that I’ll be running on the day itself. This way seemed to have a few more gentle climbs than I remembered gentle descents on the way, lol, but also I guess once I get past around 4 miles or so, my legs are reminding me that I don’t DO much running over this distance, haha. I definitely found it a wee bit tougher, but still, made it back reasonably well. Total run, about 5 miles, nice and slowly as the terrain and surface requires. Not bad at all.

We changed out of our damp tshirts in the carpark, and drove to Glencoe, where we had a cuppa and sausage sarnie. Gorgeous scenery, this is the first time I’ve ever been in this part of the world, and I honestly feel like I’ve been missing out. I shall have to try and get up here more often in future!! Helen and I headed down to the section of the WHW where John and George would be arriving, and after a wee chat in the sunshine, the guys turned up, all smiles and looking good.

Very quick pit-stop, and they set off running again, and Helen and I drove a couple of miles down the road. “We’re running up the hill, now, and will meet them at the top….” she said. Wait, running up a hill?? I looked. Ummm. “Do I have to?” I whinged, akin to a petulant child. Yes. I kept the swearwords to myself, haha. We changed back into running gear, and got going, running a tiny bit, before hitting steep, rocky ground, and walking at pace. “So this is the Devil’s Staircase”, Helen casually remarked over her shoulder at me, once we’d started. Whaaaaaaaaaat?!!!! It was too late now, I was committed. I was going to the top. Helen would occasionally break into a small run, which I tried to emulate, but largely we walked. She’s fitter and more confident than I am, and pulled ahead comfortably, but I doggedly put my head down and got on with it. Underfoot, there’s a lot of loose rock and uneven footing, so I concentrated more on where each foot was going, than how steep it was – and finally I reached the top, where I could, for the first time, turn to appreciate the scenery.

My Garmin showed the climb as being approximately 1.1 miles, with an elevation gain of 250 metres, and I did it in under 30 minutes. My heart rate had been consistently above 190 bpm which isn’t ideal, lol – not sure how much of it was down to lack of fitness, and how much is down to sheer panic, haha. We took a few photos at the top, and chatted to some tourists, walkers and a cyclist. The lads arrived soon after, and after a short break, we turned to head back down the way we’d came. The guys wanted to take a couple of pictures, and I knew I’d be slowest of all 4 of us on the descent, so I didn’t stop to wait, I just got started, so they could catch me up on the way.

And when I say ‘got started’, I have to admit, I freaked myself out somewhat!!!! I started to properly run, down a steep BIG hill, haha!! (Cue a wee bit of gentle abuse from the guys at the top - "Hey, is that a non-runner, who hates running, actually RUNNING?!" - lmao!) I ran, picking my feet carefully over the rocky surface, and trying to keep my shoulders back and form as good as I could. Shortly after leaving the top, I passed two walkers, giving a cheery “Hello!” as I did. “See honey?” said the guy in an American accent; “I told you all Scots were crazy!” – I laughed, as I kept on going, shouting back up “I’m not as crazy as the guys I’m with!” and returning my attention to my run.

There were some tricky sections that I slowed down on, carefully picking my footing, before breaking into a wee trot again, but mostly, I just made sure to keep moving. About halfway down, Helen flew past me, bouncing happily down the hill and loving every minute – and that made me smile too. Slipping once or twice, at a couple of points I told myself, aloud, "Focus!" and on one of these occasions Helen shouted up "Are you swearing to yourself?!!" - hahahaha!! I guess some certain words sound similar when hissed at oneself.... ;) A short bit later, John ran up behind me with a cheeky “Is that a trail runner in front of me?!” type comment, so I moved aside a bit to let him go. “Keep going!!!” he shouted, as he passed. Surprisingly, lol, I kept going.

Reaching the bottom, I pressed stop on my Garmin – I had made the descent in almost half the time it had taken me to climb. George arrived a minute later – he and John had done something like 24 miles, and had had a great time. John took a snap of the three of us, at the bottom of the Devil’s Staircase. (My pasty-white legs might need t to get a wee bit more sun this summer, huh?! lol)

We headed off down the road to get some lunch, and all four of us were in good spirits. We’d had really great weather, stunning scenery, fantastic company, and successful runs. I’d ran a total of almost 7½ miles, my first time running on the West Highland Way, and my first ever time running on that kind of terrain and elevation. Feel pretty pleased with myself, really. And yes... I might (might) be finally ready to admit to having enjoyed a run. I’ll think about it... let me get back to you on that one. ;)