I headed out of T2. I had 17km and 2 hours 45 minutes to reach T2a so that I would be allowed to complete the course using the low route. What I didn’t realize was the run starts with a 5km climb.

The last section of the run has a high and a low route. The abysmal weather meant there was no chance the high route would be open. So all competitors were on the low route.

The low route is easier than the high route but its not easy. It is a very technical path made harder if the weather is bad.

I had assumed the run from T2 to T2a was easy. It wasn’t. It was muddy with a lot of off road sections through heather. I thought I would cruise round but I had to work quite hard to make it to transition in time. A few people behind me were walking as they thought they had time but none of them made it to transition before the cut off.

The weather at T2a was bleak. It was wet and windy. I was supposed to have a medical check here but that seemed to comprise of someone asking if I had my bag with me. I said yes. They said ok, you are free to go then.

I changed into a full rambler outfit of waterproofs and a pole to help me walk.

There was no time pressure to complete the race so we walked all of it until the end. It was a long slog and at times the weather was horrific but I never felt tired.

Towards the end of the walk I opened a can of Pepsi that I’d been carrying for nearly 30km. What a treat!

My aim was to do the run in less than six hours. I wasn’t too far out.

At the finish line, one of the volunteers said “Congratulations. Now hand over your GPS unit or you’ll be fined £25!”

They need to work on their end of race speech. It’s no “Iain, you are an Ironman!”

PS – if you look at the first picture of me on the run you will see I have a blue cap on. I don’t have it on at the end. That’s the third blue cap I’ve lost whilst running! If you find it in Torridon then give it a good home but don’t wear it when its windy or you won’t see it again.

The forecast for the bike leg was wet, windy and sunny. A typical Scottish weather system – it couldn’t make up its mind what it wanted to be.

It was straight up hill from Sheildaig onto the main road. Thankfully, I left the bike in transition set to a low gear but from the sound of gears clanking and competitor muttering “FFS” a few others had not.

The first section was nice. It was slightly uphill and there was a nice tail wind. The route went through Torridon valley. It was very pretty. I felt good. I had brought my TT bike intending to use it but due to the windy weather I’d made the decision to switch to my road bike. I think I was one of only three people who did the race on a road bike with no tri bars. I knew it wouldn’t be quick but I felt safe and comfortable.

A few competitors came flying past me on the early stages of the bike course, before I settled in to a group who would see each other on and off over the next 100K.

My brother had gone back to the house to pick up his wife and daughter so I knew it would be about four hours into the bike before I saw him again. I was ok with that, i had enough water and food to last.

The section down past Loch Maree was straightforward. A few wee climbs and few bits of head wind but nothing too bad. The only issue was when I reached a narrow bit of road and discovered it was blocked. A supporters vehicle and a bus had got stuck.

I used it as opportunity to drink and eat whilst they tried to sort it out. Which was tricky as the bus driver only spoke German and the bus driver only spoke gruff Scottish. A very hard to understand dialect even for me.

There was a few heavy showers after this. I was glad I was wearing a Gore-tex top and shorts. It meant I never felt cold even in the worst of the weather.

After four hours Andrew turned up. This was a boost to my morale. Biking is easier when I know I’m not completely on my own. He had some Hula Hoops with him and they went down a treat.

There was a very fast down hill section alongside little Loch Broom. I hit 75km/h at one point. Which went down to 10km/h when I reached the bottom of the Loch and I had to turn into an uphill head wind. There was about six miles which felt like I was cycling in treacle with a puncture.

I was not looking forward to the Ullapool road as I though I was going to have a headwind all the way along it until I reached Garve. I was wrong. There was a tailwind and the sun come out. I also got a boost as my brother told me that a friend of mine who was also doing the race was only 5 minutes ahead of me.

I took off all my Gore-tex and raced off down the road. Determined to catch and pass my friend.

I caught him and passed him which gave me a mental boost. I didn’t want him to catch up so I concentrated on putting a good performance down until it would be time to turn off the road at Garve and head back to the start.

At Garve I turned into the headwind, and knew there were over 40km still to go. The wind was brutal but not as bad as I thought it was going to be. So that was a small positive.

I got my head down and battered through until the end. My aim for the bike was to average 25km/h to reach the end in less than 8 hours. I managed it….just.

We’ve reviewed Bayble Beach before. You can find the reviews here and here so this review is more a warning than a review.

The beach is beside a working pier and when I arrived there was a tractor pulling a boat out into the surf. I waited a few minutes while the boat was floated and the fishermen (a grandfather, father and young son) left before I waded out into the water. The board quickly skirted the pier and left my sight. I thought I had the water to myself and started to swim only to find, a few minutes later, the boat came back.

“Well that was rubbish!” I heard the sound son say over the unmistakeable sound of something mechanical broken.

I stayed next to the pier while they grounded the boat and the father jumped out to get the tractor to pull it up to the beach.

And all I could think was “I should have worn a tow float!”

I’d started swimming in a spot I knew well, one that I knew was safe as it was near high tide on a calm day and I didn’t think to wear a two float. I was wrong. Even in the safest spots, something can change. An empty ocean can suddenly be filled by an anguished shout and next you see, a broken boat is bearing down on you.

So, for this review, I repeat everything Iain said about how great a location this is for a swim and I only add what should be an obvious plea: always wear a tow float when swimming outdoors!

I don’t know much about Edinburgh. It was Iain TwinBikeRun’s city. I lived in Glasgow, he lived in Edinburgh. Together we divided up Scotland like a giant game of Monopoly.

So, when Iain asked if I wanted to try the Seven Hills of Edinburgh Challenge – a run to summit the seven hills that make up Edinburgh – I asked how long would it take. He said about two to two and half hours. I asked how many miles it would be. He said about 12. And I said, “hell yeah, let’s do it!”

(I might not have said “hell yeah” as I’m not American, but I was excited.)

There was only one problem. The run is no where near 12 miles. We had ran 16 miles and still not reached the sixth and toughest hill, Arthur’s Seat. We’d also been running for nearly three hours and still had another 45 minutes to go. I had no choice but to say “see ya, sucker!” and run back to the start.

So, instead of the Seven Hills of Edinburgh Challenge, I ran the Seven Hills of Edinburgh Minus Arthur’s Seat Challenge and I learned an important lesson: never trust Iain TwinBikeRun’s directions. I should have known better, I should have read this, where he admits to running eight hills because he got the route wrong. In future, I should always check the route I’m running before I run it.

The first ‘adventure book’ I read was Ben Fogle and James Cracknell’s ‘The Crossing’. Their story of how they rowed across the Atlantic – and a book which inspired the format of book TwinBikeRun – which you can buy here! – as chapters jump between the viewpoints of both of them. A format which leads to two perspectives on events. And a format which would have greatly benefitted ‘Up: My Life’s Journey To Everest’ as while I don’t quite agree with this one star Amazon review:

“Fairly well written but disappointed to discover Mr Fogle is such a selfish man. Will not be buying anything else he writes.”

It does have a point. If you want to read about Ben Fogle and only Ben Fogle then this book is the one for you even though his attempt to climb Everest was a joint challenge with former Olympic cyclist, Victoria Pendleton, she barely gets a mention. Even though hers is arguably the better story – she had no experience of climbing, no history of adventure and the challenges she faced and the decisions she made were far harder than any Ben Fogle faced. His toughest challenge was paying his Sherpa a summit bonus and to head back down the mountain before they’d reached the top so that Fogle could take their equipment when his own failed.

While the book is called “My Life’s Journey” and not “our journey” and it doesn’t pretend to be anything other than his story, it did feel like another voice was missing and only part of the journey was told.

You can buy it here

A couple of week ago I went on vacation to Gran Canaria. It was a trip that was originally booked back in 2019 but the small matter of a global pandemic got in the way.

It was a 4 hour journey from Glasgow to Gran Canaria. All passengers had to wear a face mask on the plane. I thought maybe I could get away with taking it off whilst drinking but the stewardess announced over the radio “If you’re thinking you can order one drink and then nurse it mask-less all the way to GC then forget about it! Keep your masks on!”

You can’t get anything past an air stewardess. They have seen every trick in the book.

Both Glasgow and Gran Canaria airport were very quiet. Which meant we were in and out of both pretty quick.

I could claim the holiday was winter weather training but I’ve never understood why people go somewhere sunny to train. 90% of Scottish races are in the cold and rain.

If I want to train I should go somewhere with weather worse than Scotland. Then, on race day, even if the weather was bad I be relieved that it’s not as bad as the time I trained in hailstones and a gale in the the Arctic circle.

I hired electric mountain bikes from http://www.free-motion.com/en/gran-canaria/ I’ve free-motion bike a few times. They are easy to deal with and the bikes are good quality.

From out hotel in Melonares there was a few good on and off road routes to try. Check out the video below to see an example.

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I’ve cycled in Gran Canaria, Tenerife and Lanzarote, Of the three islands. I prefer Gran Canaria. The roads are quieter than Tenerife and it is not as windy as Lanza.

But I didn’t see any professional cyclists training. I have seen professional on both Terneriffe and Lanza so maybe don’t come here if you have any ambitions to win the Tour De France. Just come if you want a lovely place for a spin on your bike.

A selection of routes to try:

Degollada de las Yeguas

Popular lookout point in an expansive nature reserve offering sweeping views of the canyon.

Ayagueres

An easily accessible climb that starts in Melonares. Quiet roads make it perfect for cycling.

El Pajar

A quiet coastal road from Melonares to a small local village

Ayagueres (off road)

A tough off road route but very scenic!

Like many kids, my first injury involved falling off my bike.

And like many kids, it also involved crashing into a car.

However, unlike any other kid, I crashed into a parked car. Even worse I crashed into a parked car while cycling uphill. I can’t even say I lost control, or my brakes failed, or any of the many other reasons an accident could happen. I cycled deliberately into a parked car that I could have easily involved if I’d just looked up.

It was raining. My head was down and I cycling uphill towards our house, which is near the top of a steep road. One minute I was cycling, the next I was face planting onto the rear window of a Ford Fiesta.

I can’t blame my bike, I can’t blame the conditions, I can only blame myself for not looking where I was going. A common cause of accidents as, this week, I managed to do exactly the same thing.

(Though not a Ford Fiesta, this time it was a tree).

There are many ways to have an accident while riding a mountain bike. You could crash while riding downhill through a particularly gnarly black run. You could fall off a cliff while attempting a dangerous Danny MacAskill ridge crossing. Or you could do what I did and ride up a path, get stuck in a rut, see a bush ahead and think, I can just cycle through that.

(Not stop and avoid the bush, oh no, I had to keep going.)

And that’s why Iain TwinBikeRun asked “Why did you ride into that tree, while going uphill, on a clear path, when you could have just stopped?”

And I didn’t have an answer because I was lying on the ground, nursing my elbow and wandering why 30 years after my fist accident I still wasn’t looking where I was going.

The good thing about writing a weekly blog about running is that you can use the search box to find your old race reports.

If you’d asked me when was the last time I’d ran the Alloa Half Marathon I would have guessed 2018 or 19. In fact, it was five years ago, and you can find my report here.

I blame lockdown. After two years of the pandemic, my sense of time is screwy. I discount the two years spent at home and assume everything is two years shorter than it actually is, which is why I’m planning to celebrate my twenty first birthday this year…

I see from my report that I was complaining about the traffic. It’s also the one thing I remembered about the race as I phoned Iain TwinBikeRun to say we should try and get to Alloa for 7:45 (for a 9am start) but he disagreed. The start line had moved from near the town centre to a community campus on the edge of town. He didn’t think the traffic would be as bad as there was a lot more routes to get to the start, including buses from the town centre for those who wanted to park further away.

He was right. It was easy to drive in, find a bus and get to the start. The only queue this year was at the pre-start toilets. But there’s always a queue at the toilets before any race and it’s alway the case that no matter when you join that queue, whether one hour or five minutes before the start, and no matter how many people are in the queue, ten or a hundred, you’ll never reach the front until two mins before the race starts and you’ll come out to find everyone has already left. Alloa was no different.

I also see from my report that I complained about the hills. The change to the start though has improved the route as there’s now a three mile gentle descent and flat before you climb the first hill. The warm up makes the hill feel easier, while there’s another long descent afterwards so you have time to recover before turning west toward Alva.

There’s another long hill around the 11 mile point as you come back to Alloa but while it’s long, it’s not that steep.

Overall, it was a cracking day for a race. Blue skies and no wind and the changes to the route has really improved the whole experience. I was pleased with a time of 1 hour 43 mins, which was faster than my previous time of 1 hours 48 mins and shows that while lockdown may have lost two years, I’ve also gained five minutes. Result.

For six years I worked at the Western Isles Hospital as a porter. I would provide cover whenever I was home from university and I’d generally work full time most weeks on either morning, evening or night shift. 

Night shift was the best and worst. It was the best because I was paid time and half, and if it was the weekend I’d get another half for working a Saturday and another half again for working Sunday. (And if it was a public holiday like Christmas then it would double again – jackpot!).

But there was one night I hated working – the night the clocks went back an hour. At 2am, when the clocks changed, I’d walk round the hospital and move all the clock hands back by one hour to 1pm. And then I’d have to work that hour again… without pay. 

That might sound harsh but, when the clocks jumped forward and 2am became 3am, I would work one hour less and still get paid for an eight hour shift. So, I would try really hard to be available to work at the end of March but to be away at the end of October. 

For that reason, I’ve always like when the clocks go forward. It reminds me of getting paid for doing nothing.

This year, as I’ve worked more from the office than from home, it’s great to get the extra hour of light in the evening so I can run or cycle home without having to wear more lights than a Christmas tree. It’s good to feel the sun on my skin and to start to wear t-shirts rather than a running jacket, hat, gloves and, in Glasgow, oilskins for the days it’s really wet. 

I do however miss the pleasures of night-time running – which mostly involve people leaving their curtains open and getting a good gawk in their living room. But also, the pleasure of running and not seeing where you are going. Night-time running reduces distances as you tend to focus on the light pool around you rather than looking to the end of a street in daylight and seeing everything before you clearly.  (It’s for the same reason muggers hate the clocks going forward, people can now see them.)

The good thing about living in Glasgow though is that the clocks going forward is not a guarantee of daylight – in Scotland it can just as dark at 3pm as midnight when the rain clouds gather so while it’s good to see the change of the seasons, it’s also good to know that we don’t lose nighttime running even in June.