Relentless forward motion

Crossing the finish line on my 3rd D33....."I am not f***ing doing this race again.  Ever."

I think I mean it this time.  Although the stubborn streak in me still strives to find that feeling I had from my first, when I paced well and passed several people on the return leg.  This year was an entirely different ball game, and I wasn't feeling the love from about the first 10 miles onwards.  And when you still have another 23 miles to run, that doesn't make for a great day out!


Photo by Keith Ainslie



Start - picture by Brianbat photography

Once again, the organisation was faultless - easy registration (even with me having looked at a previous year's email for my race number!), short queues at the portaloos, great beer and medal and the benefit of Clark coming for the journey, made for an easy drop off at Duthie Park (the wonderful car park marshals let us do a drive through on the promise Clark left swiftly thereafter!)

I arrived in good time to gather my thoughts, some hugs, wonder why I was there, and an obligatory selfie with Mr Ainslie.....

And before long, we were off.  I've no idea what was said in the race briefing as I couldn't hear it, so hopefully there was nothing I didn't expect.

The concept is simple, follow the Deeside way for 16.5 miles towards Banchory (and for someone who does analysis for a living you'd wonder why I spent the first 15 miles of the race believing half-way was 18 miles), turn round at the checkpoint/feed station and come back.  No frills, no nonsense, no moaning (well....maybe not that....).

I started too fast, as usual.  Just trotting along trying to find a wee bit of space in those first few miles, and the pace felt ok.  Randomly the idea of running 9.5 minute miles throughout was in my head.  No reason, just a number.  And not a pace I run very often, so clearly a bonkers idea.

I tucked in behind a couple of girls for a good few miles, until one of them dropped back, and I got chatting to the other, who turned out to be Sharon Hassan and we had a good blether for a few miles.

At about mile 5 a chap in front deliberately chucked away a gel wrapper into the grass verge...grrrrr.....he had headphones in and was a little too far away to shout at....he clearly knew what he was doing and I made it my mission to hunt him down.  It took me a couple of miles, and when I challenged him about who he expected to pick up his rubbish, and his inability to understand the race rules (and common decency for that matter), I got a cheeky retort from him.  This really got on my goat and I could feel my heart racing with rage for several miles thereafter.  The only plus side was I pushed on a bit and he didn't get past me again.  And yes, I complained about him at the end, so hopefully someone else had 'a word' with him!

Photo by Fiona Rennie

The rest of the race passed in a struggly kind of way.  I caught up with Fiona Rennie and tried to keep up with her pace for a while (I'm sure she said she was aiming for 6 hours, which was slower than I was hoping for, so I had thought I should be finding things easier...however, Fiona must have blasted that!)


Photo by Chen

At half way (where my drop bag had the wrong number as I'd packed it before finding out I'd looked at the wrong email), I bizarrely decided that the way to overcome my misery was to down some coke, haribo, handful of jelly babies and some crisps.....cue full and protesting belly and no improvement in my energy or mood!  What on earth was wrong with all my knowledge, experience and decision making?!

One of the hardest things about the D33 is that there are no real incline/declines where I would naturally take a short walk or get some respite.  It is just on and on and you feel like a fool when you take a walk and it's flat.  That was how the second half was though.  The only saving grace was there were a few others around me who seemed to be in the same boat, and some experienced folk in that mix too.

So my slowest result for this race in the 3 year's of running, at 5hrs 50 (254/334), rewarded with a hand-crafted medal and commemorative beer (which I drank this year!), and some finish line hugs (apologies for my swearing!).

Clark had been waiting (ages) to pick me up, and sent me a suitably cheeky text about getting a shift on, otherwise I could get a train home.  So I scoffed some grapes, had some chat and hugs in the finish tent, grabbed my coat and shuffled like a broken woman down the ramp to the car park....sniffling miserably to myself.  I think I just needed a big cry!

I don't know why I'm surprised really.  I don't train flat, I don't train fast.  I don't train a lot on tarmac.  The race shouldn't work for me at all.  I think I've been 'lucky' in prior years, and maybe overthought it this year.  My trainers were also past their best (and now in the bin), and it just wasn't a good day for me.

I'm still not entering next year.  Despite it being a good distance at a good time of year.  And I guess that was the point of the wonderful race directors!

A big thank you to all those involved in the efficient operation of the event this year, from Karen and Dod directing, right through to all the volunteers who I know put a great effort in with marquees and restoring Duthie Park after the event, as well as everything else that happens in beween!

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