by James Bell

 

The Caledonian sleeper sidled out of Euston at 9.30 pm on an unremarkable Thursday night heading for the capital of the highlands. By 9.31, Alison and I had already drunk half the wine, eaten most of the cheese and had plans to stay up no later than 10:30, such is our rock & roll lifestyle. Tucked in bed, my last though was “why I am doing a marathon?”. For anyone who knows me, I have a problem with marathons. I just don’t see the attraction. However, my inner trainspotter had noticed that whilst I had ticked a few race distance boxes, the marathon had defeated me. The reason for the defeat is that I had run courses that I considered boring, really boring. I needed something stimulating and then, I thought, my moment would come.

 

 

My mood changed having woken up soon after the train passed Dalwhinnie. The good thing about the sleeper is that it’s effectively old British Rail stock so you can stick your head out of the window as far as you like. Down the line and approaching Aviemore through the trees, our senses were alive with the smell of Scots pine – little by little I was warming to the idea of running long distance in this landscape. The train arrived in Inverness and I got my first glimpse of the finish line to the marathon – what a setting with the River Ness running alongside the last two miles of the route.

The marathon is a measured course that passes through the villages of Foyers, Inverfarigaig and Dores along the southern side of the loch. I’d argue that it’s the closest anyone can get to a trail marathon on the road. It does finish in Inverness and whilst nominally a city, it is delightfully small and green. Before the marathon started, pipers passed through the field of runners on a glorious Sunday morning near Fort Augustus where athletes of all shapes and sizes milled around waiting to start the race. The thing you need to know about this marathon is that during the first 10 miles there’s a steep descent broken by hill climbs to challenge you. The first mile is too steep and sees runners braking rather than speeding off. I go through the 5k in 20:39 and the next miles pass quickly as the dramatic scenery keeps my brain from thinking about the next 20 or so miles.

Just before Foyers on the 5^th mile, there’s a hard hill climb and the field begins to spread. By this point, I’m feeling good and hang around with what I consider are the fast boys all aiming to go through the half in well under 1:30. My pace is all over the place as I go up and down hill not knowing whether I’m running too fast or slow. I pass through the 10k in 41:44 mins, 10 miles in 1:07.06 and the half in exactly 1:28. Being a nerd, I had previously studied the splits of all sub 3 runners on this course. It was by no means guaranteed that a 1:28 would deliver a sub 3 time because there is a crushing two mile climb between mile 18-20. I had used this information about the course to do some very specific hill training, preparing my body for a long descent and also doing hill work when I was knackered to simulate miles 18-20.

It’s cruel to say this, but as I started the hill climb it gave me an enormous lift to see some of the field ahead walking up hill. I’d trained for this bit and it felt like I was passing lots of runners and in doing so, I knew now I was in with a chance of a sub 3 as there was no wall to be had and so I passed through the 20 mile marker in 2:16.22 with time in hand but not much.

I should have mentioned that in my shoes strange things were happening. Mile 10 was my first sensation that something was up and by mile 20 as I started another descent, my toe nails began to lift and bleed. This was because my toes were constantly been rammed into the toebox of my shoes – ouch. Anyway, down the hill we went onto miles 21, 22, 23 and 24 and it now felt like a race although there were still a couple of hills to climb. Mile 25 was flat but painful but someone shouted at us ‘if you keep this up, you might sub it’. Time was really tight and my watch flicked onto an average 6.51 min miles… I was seconds away from going home empty-handed. The more I tried the more I seemed to go slower. Anyhow, as I reached the 26 mile marker I emptied the tank in the belief that seconds on the sprint could save the situation. Luckily, things weren’t that close and although I ran the last 10k at an average pace of 6.55 min miles (42.52), I passed the line with 46 seconds to spare.

This is a great race but don’t think that because it is a downhill marathon it’s easier. My inner- nerd checked that those that ran London in the same year could be as much as 10 mins behind on the Loch Ness course. I think part of the ‘problem’ is that many go out too fast and later burn out at mile 18 as fatigue sets in on the quads. The race comes highly recommended and is brilliantly organised.

Btw – I’m done with marathons. I’m closing the door on them and locking it. Well, perhaps I’ll keep it unlocked but closed. No, just ajar but not fully open. Umm, I’ll only do beautiful ones like Loch Ness.