Not lost this time!
Since my last blog post (re: unimpressed sheep), I would really, really love to tell you, almost a full month on, I'm now flying up the hills, barely out of puff.
Apparently I need more than a month.
However, I did go on my first long (ish) hill run weekend before last which went surprisingly well. As in I only got a tiny bit lost as opposed to a big bit lost.
Sunday came around and - much to my partner's never-ending, alarm-induced misery - I was up and out the door at 4am. I got out to Balintore around half past and set off, still a tad sleepy, but not at all lethargic.
I had planned my route in the most easy to follow way possible. And it started on a track anyway - so happy days for the first mile or so. When it came to leaving the track I was, not for the first time, reminded Google will never be able to tell you the current livestock status of a field. As in, this one was full of Highland cows. I think I'm just drawn to them - I never fail to end up in amongst them, despite efforts not to.
Anyway, they were standing a good bit away so I figured I could dash to the other side of the field quickly enough for them not to bother with me. And this would have been fine had it not been for the burn and the fact I had forgotten to put on my waterproof socks. I didn't fancy getting wet feet at this early stage so I figured I'd just jump it. Except the spot where I kind of needed to take off was sunken and sloping and not great for taking off like a little gazelle over this burn.
Overseen by the cows who most likely rolled their eyes and continued chewing on their cud, I took a couple of very un-gazelle-like runs at said burn, only to chicken out and build myself a little path across it instead.
Cursing myself for being such a woose (like seriously, when do I ever chicken out of anything?!) and the cows for laughing, I set off up the hill on the other side. Trying to locate the right track took far longer than it should for someone planning to do a trail ultra in just a few weeks, but with only a few extra additions to the route and only a little swearing I managed to locate the right track on the right hill!
I must have reached the top of this hill around 5.30/6am and apparently seagulls have a very big gathering at the top of this particular hill at that time on a Sunday morning. I started to freak myself out by noticing they were only flying around en mass above this hill, and furthermore: only above me. This was it. Death by seagull air stampede. If anything's going to make you move faster, imminent death by seagull will.
I reached the other side of the hill in double time, climbed a fence and found myself looking out over the most beautiful valley Angus must have to offer. Being this time of the morning, I disturbed a herd of deer who took off, looking glorious in the morning sun, and a couple of hares as I paced down the steep side towards a farm and - I hoped - a road.
Now, despite Google showing a track from the bottom of the hill to the road, it failed to mention the field of sheep I needed to cross. At this time of year I seriously doubted any farmer would be chuffed at his lambing ewes being frightened by a rather dim runner. However, after skirting along the surrounding gamekeeper tracks, I couldn't see another way so, very carefully I shimmied along the track through the field, telling the sheep in hushed tones to keep very still, don't make a sound, I would be gone soon (yes, utter weirdo, I know). And just so you know - they were all pretty cool with having an intruder at 6 o'clock in the morning.
All was well and dandy until I reached the farm house and the farm dogs decided to raise Mary hell. I got my arse into gear and got out of the vicinity before a farmer came out with a shotgun.
By the time I finished the fourteen or so miles, I can't say my legs felt too fresh but on the whole it wasn't a terrible reaction to my first longer hill run. I finished up in front of the gorgeous Balintore Castle, currently being restored to its former glory, and that with the views across the tops of the hills made my Sunday. Which is really quite sad when I think of it.
It's now just over a month till race day and you're going to be hearing a lot more from me throughout June as I have a rally round to raise a bit more money for HorseBack UK. Please go and read some of the other posts on here (ignoring the moaning on most of them) to see what amazing work HorseBack does, or visit their Facebook page.
Over and out, the almost hill runner.
P.s. Since doing more hills and less miles, I'm a) not as weak b) not as injured, and c) able to bounce through a 24 mile run as though it was an everyday 7 (well maybe a little stiff after, but not broken!). So, if you want to do something a bit more exciting than just road running, take to the hills, your joints are far more likely to stay intact for longer.
https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/run-watson-run
https://www.facebook.com/HBUK55/
https://www.facebook.com/HorseBackUK/
Apparently I need more than a month.
However, I did go on my first long (ish) hill run weekend before last which went surprisingly well. As in I only got a tiny bit lost as opposed to a big bit lost.
Sunday came around and - much to my partner's never-ending, alarm-induced misery - I was up and out the door at 4am. I got out to Balintore around half past and set off, still a tad sleepy, but not at all lethargic.
I had planned my route in the most easy to follow way possible. And it started on a track anyway - so happy days for the first mile or so. When it came to leaving the track I was, not for the first time, reminded Google will never be able to tell you the current livestock status of a field. As in, this one was full of Highland cows. I think I'm just drawn to them - I never fail to end up in amongst them, despite efforts not to.
Anyway, they were standing a good bit away so I figured I could dash to the other side of the field quickly enough for them not to bother with me. And this would have been fine had it not been for the burn and the fact I had forgotten to put on my waterproof socks. I didn't fancy getting wet feet at this early stage so I figured I'd just jump it. Except the spot where I kind of needed to take off was sunken and sloping and not great for taking off like a little gazelle over this burn.
Overseen by the cows who most likely rolled their eyes and continued chewing on their cud, I took a couple of very un-gazelle-like runs at said burn, only to chicken out and build myself a little path across it instead.
Cursing myself for being such a woose (like seriously, when do I ever chicken out of anything?!) and the cows for laughing, I set off up the hill on the other side. Trying to locate the right track took far longer than it should for someone planning to do a trail ultra in just a few weeks, but with only a few extra additions to the route and only a little swearing I managed to locate the right track on the right hill!
I must have reached the top of this hill around 5.30/6am and apparently seagulls have a very big gathering at the top of this particular hill at that time on a Sunday morning. I started to freak myself out by noticing they were only flying around en mass above this hill, and furthermore: only above me. This was it. Death by seagull air stampede. If anything's going to make you move faster, imminent death by seagull will.
I reached the other side of the hill in double time, climbed a fence and found myself looking out over the most beautiful valley Angus must have to offer. Being this time of the morning, I disturbed a herd of deer who took off, looking glorious in the morning sun, and a couple of hares as I paced down the steep side towards a farm and - I hoped - a road.
Now, despite Google showing a track from the bottom of the hill to the road, it failed to mention the field of sheep I needed to cross. At this time of year I seriously doubted any farmer would be chuffed at his lambing ewes being frightened by a rather dim runner. However, after skirting along the surrounding gamekeeper tracks, I couldn't see another way so, very carefully I shimmied along the track through the field, telling the sheep in hushed tones to keep very still, don't make a sound, I would be gone soon (yes, utter weirdo, I know). And just so you know - they were all pretty cool with having an intruder at 6 o'clock in the morning.
All was well and dandy until I reached the farm house and the farm dogs decided to raise Mary hell. I got my arse into gear and got out of the vicinity before a farmer came out with a shotgun.
By the time I finished the fourteen or so miles, I can't say my legs felt too fresh but on the whole it wasn't a terrible reaction to my first longer hill run. I finished up in front of the gorgeous Balintore Castle, currently being restored to its former glory, and that with the views across the tops of the hills made my Sunday. Which is really quite sad when I think of it.
It's now just over a month till race day and you're going to be hearing a lot more from me throughout June as I have a rally round to raise a bit more money for HorseBack UK. Please go and read some of the other posts on here (ignoring the moaning on most of them) to see what amazing work HorseBack does, or visit their Facebook page.
Over and out, the almost hill runner.
P.s. Since doing more hills and less miles, I'm a) not as weak b) not as injured, and c) able to bounce through a 24 mile run as though it was an everyday 7 (well maybe a little stiff after, but not broken!). So, if you want to do something a bit more exciting than just road running, take to the hills, your joints are far more likely to stay intact for longer.
https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/run-watson-run
https://www.facebook.com/HBUK55/
https://www.facebook.com/HorseBackUK/
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