Ordinary People

"We're just ordinary people doing something extraordinary"

Seven or eight years ago, someone said that very phrase to me.  It was the middle of the night on Midsummers Eve.  He was lying face up on the massage couch as I eased the aches from their legs, whilst trying to fend of the midgies.

"You're all f***ing CRAZY!"

Or similar words, to a similar effect.  That was my reply.

I've had a similar conversation with several runners over the many years I've been involved with the WHW.

Fast forward to 2014.  With one week until my day of reckoning.

I'm now one of those "ordinary people".  And next weekend, I hope to achieve something extraordinary.

To run 95 miles. To climb almost 15,000 feet while doing so.

And I've used that very same phrase to people who ask me about the race.  I am...we are (mostly), ordinary people doing something extraordinary.

We have jobs, families and busy lives to lead. We have stress, pressure, deadlines, birthdays, weddings and nights out to go to.

And we all share a common goal.  To smash into the leisure centre doors in Fort William.  And to "stand" in the sports hall at the prize giving collecting the coveted finishers goblet.

For some, this may take as little as 15 hours.  For others, an added challenge will be the 35 hour time limit.  It's going to be tough, no matter where you are in the field.

We've all been on a "journey" (and I HATE that phrase), be this our first time, our tenth or anything else.  And for anyone who's not aware of the legend that is Fiona Rennie, please read her blog (A Fun Runners Tales) to appreciate just what that journey might entail.  There's not going to be a dry eye in the house next Sunday when we see Fiona collect goblet number 10!

And in most cases, it's not done for bragging rights.  It's not about smashing PBs at every turn or fretting that someone has run more miles, or climbed more hills than you this week.  There's a quiet, yet strong level of respect and support.  Whether you're doing 120 miles a week, or 50, the WHW Family acknowledge and praise.  In times of injury, misfortune or stress, a rallying army will go out of their way to come to your aid.  Even at the sharp end of the field, there's no egos raining on the parade of the slower runners.  This is evidenced again at prize giving, where the winner will present the last finisher with their goblet.  Everyone is a winner.

And further reflected in the support - the race organisers, the marshals, the crew, the family and friends, and those who come to support 'just because'.  Giving up pretty much a whole weekend (and much more in some cases) to get their runner through one of the biggest challenges they may ever face.  We cannot do it without them.  They don't do this for a goblet.  They do it just because.

To stand there next week, knowing you've done the best training you could do, that your head is in the right place.  That's what matters.

I'll be there.  I'm ready.