Counting Stars

Lately I've been, I've been losing sleep

Dreaming about the things that we could be

But, baby, I've been, I've been praying hard

Said no more counting dollars, we'll be counting stars

 

 I've been in a bit of a post-race low.  Who'd have known that support crew can feel that way too?  This race is immense and it's a big part of my life.  I don't think a day goes past that I don't think about having run it, the desire to run it again, or just the motivation to be part of the family for a long time to come.

 

This year, things were different.  This year I was support crew, not a name, not a number, not one of the lucky individuals with a racing heart, toe-ing the line in Milnavie at 1am on a Saturday in June.

I could lie, couldn't I, couldn't I

Everything that kills me, makes me feel alive

The pressure I was feeling was still high however.  I had taperitis.  Well, an actual head-cold to be fair.  With two days to go I was tanking myself full of lemsip and paracetamol and praying for breath and sinuses that didn't feel like someone was drilling through them.  As if I wasn't worried enough already about being able to keep up with John, who was aiming for a significant PB, off the back of a cracking amount of training so far this year.

And I'd forgotten to book the Friday off work....so I spent it interviewing graduates (successfully!)...after having a hectic week which included getting the van back, and spending two days travelling/in Manchester for a training course.  Not ideal prep.  But I was 'only' crewing....

So...home from work and some last minute packing, and some dinner...and to bed for a nap!  Surprisingly I managed to get a couple of hours decent sleep.  It was positively weird getting up at 10pm and knowing that was it in terms of proper bed until Sunday night.  There were still kids playing outside!

Old, but I'm not that old

Young, but I'm not that bold

 

More faffing (Clark and I like a faff) and later than planned we hit the road....with a new arrival time at Milngavie of 12:20.....not great, but hoping John and Helen didn't fret and we arrived in time to hear the race briefing and feel the electric atmosphere building (past the random drunk who was heckling....)...and say hello to a few of the usual suspects, and let John and Helen know we were here and ready.

 

John was fairly subdued.  He has Achilles niggles (hence his blog here) and was muttering about not making it past Drymen.  This was not in my weekend plans!!

 

Without much time to ponder it was time for the countdown and the off! I tried to capture a wee video on my phone before it ran out of memory (start video).  It's the first time I've been at the start when I've not been running, and it didn't disappoint!

 

A few more "Hello's" and back to the van with a plan to go to Balmaha.  In my limited wisdom, I made Clark drive us up to Gardabhan (sp) forest car park, and after a minor disagreement we then didn't stay there but headed to Balmaha for a wee hour-ish of shut eye.  Again, pleasantly surprised I actually slept.

 

And I I I I I feel something so wrong

by doing the right thing

 

When the alarm woke us, Helen already had a breakfast stall set up next door, and kindly gave me one of her bacon rolls (I didn't complain!) and we paced about, in the relatively midge-free dawn, watching and waiting.  What a bloody fantastic day weather wise.  The night temperature had been perfect and the sunrise early.  Was I jealous of the runners?  you bet your ass I was!

 

John arrived, and was duly fed, coffee'd, watered and dealt with...not in accordance with his pre-race plan, but I think we coped ok.  I was remembering that feeling being the runner...you come into the check-point and expect the crew to be psychic, knowing what you've spent the last 3 miles thinking about having.....and then wondering why things aren't just all magically there!

 

And that was fine.  Helen and I then went to the midge-fest of Rowardennan and repeated the process, while Clark took the dog for a stroll and had another nap (I think!).  Not sure how happy John was at either checkpoint...but he was still running, and no mention of dropping out, so I took that as a positive!

 

And I I I I I feel something so right

by doing the wrong thing

 

More nap time for the crew...this time at Tarbert, after a wee porridge pot and some coffee.  beautiful spot in the car park overlooking the loch.  Head down, zonked out.  Who said crewing was hard?? (*note, actually, I did say several times during the day that crewing was much harder than running!!)

 

Slightly more fitful sleep...we were getting to the point where times could differ wildly, and didn't want to miss our runner at Bein Glas.  And also, it was getting roasty hot!  As it turns out, by the time we got to BG, spent some time chatting, enjoying the sunshine, prepping for the midges and howfing all the kit to the checkpoint, our timing was immaculate and John came striding in, we sorted him out and off he went.

 

Auchtertyre, and some quality time soaking up the sun, and getting some dog-whispering from Sharon (thanks Sharon!).  We could see the runners were really starting to suffer here, and the pressure would be on for our support running to keep the momentum going.  I started to think about eating to fuel up for my run later....while my cold seemed to be less of an issue (I think being outside helped), I hadn't run since pacing my sis-in-law round her first marathon the week before, and still had the fear that John would be too quick for me, so I couldn't risk being fuel deficient on top of that!

 

And then quickly to Brodies at Tyndrum for ice lollies and some chat and hugs with Loon Dod of Epic Shit Racing fame!

 

Boy, it was hot!

 

With luck at Bridge of Orchy we got a nice parking spot in the middle of the action, and time for a cuppa and some chat and cheering before John, sporting his 'British Tourist in Benidorm' kit came gliding down the hill!

 

Time to unleash the first support runner....care in the community....

 

With two miniatures of malt for Murdo the Magnificent, resplendent on Jelly Baby Hill, off they went to tackle the heat and exposure on the beautiful Rannoch Moor.

 

The benefit of the support runner from crew perspective is that they can often text in updates on progress and 'demands'.  So we knew, by the time the got to us at Glencoe (apparently on schedule but it seemed a long time to me) that John needed to replace lost salts and wasn't feeling tip-top.  So with a slightly longer stop, and a ceremonial vomit at Glencoe (thing that was before I tried him with non-alcoholic beer), we tried to sort him out, ready for me taking on the final stretch of support running...'just a marathon' to Fort William.

 

Now, my patter isn't that great...and John is a man of few words...so this was an interesting challenge.....I lost count of how many times I said 'shall I just shut the **** up?'...and I wasn't even talking that much!  Most of my motivational patter I stole from John when he crewed me from KLL during my first WHW, so he knew what he needed to know already.

 

He did some moaning.  That section from Glencoe to Ault na Feadh is rubbish.  I agree.  Silly route and unnecessary hill, albeit the views were exceptional today!

 

And then there's the Devils Staircase.  OMG.  John shot off like a man possessed.  And my heart rate rocketed, my lungs and legs burned and I knew I just had to suck it up.  About half way he paused for breath and some water from the stream.  I said some swear words, and then we set off again.  I think I momentarily lead, and then I passed it back to John....wheezing my way to the top.

 

The views were exceptional from the top - in both directions.  I suggested to John he take a look.  He said some swear words. 

 

And then asked if I had fizzy pop. 

 

F***!!!!  Why didn't I pack a can of pop??!!  Support runner FAIL!!!

 

Balls.   It took me some time to work out how to recover that one...and in the interim, Mr Grumpy questioned how long it was going to take us to get down...and had I packed a head torch as it was going to get dark.

 

F***!!!!  I knew it wasn't going to be dark before we got to KLL...but I hadn't packed a torch, just in case.

 

Support runner FAIL!!!!

 

Options?  Just keep trotting on and make runner move his ass faster...(I was ok on the downhills!).  And I think we were within the desired split for this section.

 

This saw us make good progress, and I was able to text in demands for soup, coffee, ice cream to Helen and Clark, waiting at KLL.  Thankfully, they succeeded in every request!  And even had ice cream for me too!

 

All this wouldn't be the same without some more ceremonial vomit to set us up for the final leg....this slowed our departure from KLL down, but that was ok...the midges weren't nearly as bad as they could've been here, and it was still light. 

 

With headtorches ready, and fire in our bellies, knowing, barring major incident we were heading for a PB, we were off.

 

OMG.  John shot up that climb like the possessed man again.  Me?  Repeat of the Staircase...puff, puff, wheeze, MTFU......

 

Still light at the top.  Result.

 

I love this section across the Lairig (moreso in the daylight) and it had been since I did the race last year that I had been on it (didn't tell John that in case I'd forgotten bits!).  We resumed the pattern of me mostly striding ahead, and John following.  My chat was crap.  I stopped asking him if he needed food, as he'd actually (aside from the puking) been consuming quite well (milkshakes, rice puds, custard etc), and he was guzzling at his bottles pretty well.

 

We'd been warned that Jeff of Wilderness Rescue hadn't been able to get to his usual spot, and that was the only downside of this year's race for me, as it has been a great focal point to motivate across the Lairig in the dark - the glow of the torches and the promise of fizzy pop!

 

We had a wee lull when John decided to drink the can of Ginger Beer I'd been carrying...and after I felt he'd been walking maybe a little more that necessary, we chivvied back into a trot, finally reaching Jeff and Patricia, and enjoying a wee juice (I think John also had coffee, but declined a dram).

 

Next stop Lundavra....the promise of the bonfire and some tunes from Gayle (I had a nice wee dance to The Proclaimers).  I finally got a phone signal and sent a text for rice pudding and coffee.... We were quicker/closer than expected, and Helen/Clark were still winging their way up the road.  I may have said some bad words.  John grumbled...and scavenged the table of goodies Gayle had while we waiting for Helen/Clark's arrival...

 

7 to go...and a swift march up the hill.  I had promises to keep and to try and keep well within that PB.  Oh no, a fall!  John caught his foot on something (I'm guessing a rock) and hit the deck.

 

F***!!! Support crew fail!!  Why hadn't I anticipated/seen it?!?!

 

Anyway, he seemed ok (at this stage in the game there was nothing else for it) and we walked it out for a minute or so before setting off at a trot/walk until finally reaching the forest...which seemed an eternity away!

 

Every thing that kills me

Makes me feel alive!

 

And then.....we started picking off bodies...a few zombies in the dark (apologies people we passed, you were all probably moving very well!), and a wee boost with each one....I certainly took the energy from this and was hoping John did too!  The steps in the woods went fine, and then we could see the final climb to the fire road...and a few more bodies to pick off (after another heather root induced tumble).

 

We were there.  I had a wee tear.  It was in the bag.  I love that feeling....3 ish miles to go and mostly downhill....you can do it.....the goblet is almost in your hands.

 

A support runner asked us how far, as her running wobbled a little with the change of gradient and terrain.  "You've done it, 3 miles, mostly downhill.  You've done it."

 

We breathed some big, deep, lung filling breaths.  "Ready?  Let's do this!"

 

And we did....whoooooooooosh......if John was strong up those big climbs, he found something else for this last bit...  A 9:45 mile for the first....John:"I think I should ease up a bit".....Me:"Ok".  So a 9:33 for the next one (along that drag to Braveheart which seems to never come).

 

I started texting Helen to tell her we were coming....Text, text......puff...wheeze....sh**.....was I going to be able to keep up..... Onto the tarmac (maybe I should just let him go)....there's the 30MPH sign (just let him go)......the hedges....the lights of the leisure centre....

 

And we're done!  With a final mile of 8:50ish John blasted through the finish line and took over two hours off his PB!  Fantastic and well deserved result, and another goblet for his collection!

 

I see this life, like a swinging vine

Swing my heart across the line

In my face is flashing signs

Seek it out and ye shall find

 

Many more tears over the next 24/36/48 hours...in fact several times this week I've been close, often in public places!  Reading the runners blogs and videos brings it all back.  From the start, to during the race, right through to the prize giving (seeing Norma receive her first goblet as a finisher aged 64 was a total tear-jerker).  I saw friends battle, rejoice and break-down.  And saw it from a totally different perspective this year.

 

Crewing is bloody hard work.  There's pressure and worry and some lack of control.  You never know what your runner will want or is thinking or how you might cope if they talk of dropping out.  How do you motivate them, or know what might be the right or wrong thing to say?  And how do you keep your energy levels right so you are ready to run when it's your stint to support?  it was a pleasure to be part of John's race, and experience a side to the race I've not seen before.

 

This race is in my soul.  And I'll be back.  Targeting 2018 for my next luck of the draw in the ballot, and until then, more crewing, or massaging, or something!

 

Bloody well done to everyone who got to the start line, and to those who received the cherished goblet.  Just over 1,000 all time finishers.  A galaxy of stars.

 

See you next year!