A Devil of a weekend

I don't feel in any fit place to do a supporter's race report write-up of the Devil o' The Highlands ultra, as I wasn't even there for half of it, and by choosing to leave early, I wasn't there for any of the important parts - certainly for none of the bits that meant the most to my friends. I hugely regret that decision. It seemed right in the run-up to the weekend, and it even seemed right on the morning itself, but as I was driving away, part of me knew I would regret it. I should have listened to that voice louder, and turned the car straight back around, but I didn't.

So, what I will say about the race is that I'm so enormously proud of my friends for completing this race in awful weather, but especially Helen and Bob. They convinced me to drive up to Tyndrum at very short notice on Friday night, and after half an hour of dashing around my flat in a panic, I threw some bags and stuff into the boot of the car (sadly, panic and disorganisation meant I threw them on top of the framed picture I'd made for Julie, breaking the frame in about 3 places, but I didn't know that at the time...) - I don't deal with last minute plans very well, really. On my way, I tried to think about what I'd forgotten, and realised my camera was charging on the kitchen worktop. Sigh. So no pictures again from me!! This is becoming a trend...

Reaching Tyndrum at abut 9:45pm, I parked up and went to find them in the pub, bumping into John Kynaston on the way. I found Helen and Bob around a busy table with Amanda, John, Noanie, Karen and George, and a couple of others I wasn't introduced to - so we had a quick drink and a chat, and Helen, John, Bob and I left to follow Amanda back to the chalet, where she'd headed off earlier to meet up with Ewen who was staying with us too. We sat for a bit, with a cuppa, chatting and the runners preparing last minute bags etc. then all off to bed, as the rain lashed down above us.

About 4:15am, we all started to get up, breakfasted and out, up the road to registration at Green Welly Stop. We'd had a few giggles in the morning, but there was also clearly an air of nervousness, and I felt a wee bit in the way, so when we got up the road, I headed off to spot other people and wish them the best. Runners like Noanie, Katy, Gerry, Rodger, Jenni, and so on... Loads of familiar faces around. Caught up with some folk from support crew teams, Johnny Fling, Lorna, Spikey, etc.... and also David Meldrum, Davie Mooney and Julie who'd driven up on the day to generally dot about offering support and cheers, Julie was due to run a section with Katy later too, and was decked out in Angel wings especially. :)

The race got started, with an uphill climb which seems a bit mean, and then in the rain the rest of us dashed back inside for a spot of breakfast. After this, and being gently hurried out of the cafe by 6:30, we headed up to Bridge of Orchy, to watch the runners fly down the hill. Everyone went past looking good, smiling, and generally doing well, despite rubbish weather. We cheerers & supporters split up a bit then, and I headed to Glencoe for a hot cuppa - including a chat in the cafe queue with twins Fiona and Pauline, ultrarunning legends I'd not met before. :) I headed down to the checkpoint with Davie and Julie, and the others turned up soon after, and we cheered everyone through here. I gave Bob a wee half-hug before he headed a hundred metres or so up the track to where his support crew were waiting. Helen came through looking strong and confident, and bizarrely apologising to me for being grumpy earlier (she'd not - she'd just wanted to be left alone before the race started, it's two very different things! lol!!!) - she ate a boiled egg, repacked pockets with food, and then she was away.

I'd thought, prevously, about going to Kingshouse Inn from there, but it's only a mile or two, so I'd have missed almost everyone by the time I got there, so I just decided that now would be the time I headed for home. My reasons are based around the fact that I needed to get a 10 mile run done this weekend for my long run in my training, and after missing any long runs last weekend it was even more important to get that mileage done. I knew from experience that being out the whole day of an ultra, on very little sleep, with the nerves that go alongside waiting for your friends to come through safely, and travelling from point to point, can get exhausting, and with a 3+ hour drive home at the end of it, after how my post-Fling drive had gone, I just wasn't willing to do it. I knew that it would knock out any thought of me being able to do a 10 mile run, so it was with a heavy heart I headed homewards. On the drive, I thought about the guys out there, climbing the Devil's Staircase, in gusting cold winds and frequent showers, and I got a bit emotional. I should have turned round, I should have been there waiting for them at Kinlochleven, but by then it was too late, I was headed home.

On the couch with a cuppa, I found myself falling asleep more than once, as I waited for news. I just wanted to be at Fort William, as the results started coming through on my phone and via facebook. Noanie had played a blinder, 3rd place lady, and Amanda did fantastically well. Rodger had sadly had to drop out, but Katy had done great. Then Helen finished, and the photos of her in (happy) tears crossing the line made my heart break, more so as people started to say it was great they were there, and her saying how fanastic it was seeing all her friends at the finish. I was so proud; it was a brilliant run from her, she's my total inspiration. I'd got a few text messages from Bob during the latter part of the race - it was all I could do to tell him I was soooo proud of him, and then just wait for news he'd finished, which came soon after Helen. There followed a couple of hours of busy action on facebook, as photos and updates started to flood in. I gave up trying to follow it all, and decided to get an early night, heading to bed before 8pm.

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Sunday morning, I woke up to decent weather and the knowledge that if I didn't run 10 miles today, my early departure from the WHW yesterday would be for nothing. So, off I went, with absolutely no route planned out in my head. I'd love to say I was filled with renewed drive from the success of my friends, or the recent reasonable runs I've done with them, but no, it was back to Sarah running on her own, with only that voice inside for company. That voice who wants me to fail. I was walking within 20 minutes, and as soon as I took my first walking footstep, it was basically game over inside my head - I walked LOADS after that. Miserable. I haven't uploaded the Garmin data yet, because I absolutely don't want to, but I know I finished the 10 miles in 2hrs 20 - which is an awful time. If I run like that at GNR in 5 weeks, I'll get a 'personal worst' HM time by over 10 minutes. If I run like that in the Southside Six, I will not only come last, but there'll be well over 20 minutes between me and the second-last runner. These things are not really an option. Realistically, I know that being surrounded by other runners at GNR means I won't run as badly as I did yesterday, but Southside Six is another story. I'll be running on my own from pretty much all of that race. A 3 hour time is looking like a pipe dream, so the 'not coming last' one is going to have to be the goal I pin everything onto. It just feels too close. Too soon. And now I wonder, if maybe I could get an injury, or something, that will count me out of this year's race. Nothing too painful, just... enough. 13 weeks to go. I don't think I'm strong enough.