They started at 6 a.m. in Milngavie (technically a suburb of Glasgow), which is 53 miles from their finish in Tyndrum. They ran up and down Conic Hill (a mountain – everything here is called a “hill”), and then much later, the 6.5 miles of nightmare terrain between Inversnaid and Inverarnan….in all-day rain, mud, and cold under 45F/7C. And kept on going bounding up and flinging themselves down countless steep hills and rocky trails to Tyndrum.
Today, the day after the marathon, I was hiking their last stretch and, unbelievably, at least one of them was on the trail running BACK from Tyndrum. I remember him from the race because he was striking looking, and a young woman who passed later looked to be probably doing the same thing.
A woman on the support team in Inversnaid said that many in this race were running FOR PRACTICE for the upcoming West Highland Way 96 mile ultramarathon from Milngavie to Fort William, which is, in fact, the entire West Highland Way. I wish I could convey what kind of feat this is and how incredible these people are. Maybe the pictures will help, although ascents and descents don’t show up well in photos.
After looking a bit online, it turns out that prior Iron Mans, prior Triathlons, and prior road ultramarathons won’t qualify one to be accepted for this race – because the terrain is so extreme on this one.
The first of the front runners passed at 10:00 a.m. and was a fearsome specimen. In fact, he was perhaps 20 minutes ahead of the next few of these people whose bodies seem to run like machines. That was John Hammond (“Carnethy Running Club”), who did win this race (the report said he stayed out front from the first few steps out of Milngavie). A Salomon runner, Beth Pascal, came in 9th and was the first place in women’s (again, evidently). I remember her streaking by too. Amazingly, only one person seemed to have really wiped out on this absolutely treacherous 6.5 mile stretch, and the people running by with the information said they weren’t sure if she was even hurt. I asked how someone would be evacuated given the terrain and the woman called back “By Boot” – since the rocky path runs close to Loch Lomond for much of the section, by boat is really the only way, and some of the trail is far above the lake.
I had odd urges to run after them and another woman hiking who runs also said she had that same urge. Maybe it’s a primitive thing to want to run with a flow of other humans. Like a chase drive or a wish to be part of the pack.
They weren’t all young either. There were many seemingly in their 60’s. About 1/8 were women. They ran covered in mud. They scrambled boulders and up and down impossible rocks. They ran bleeding (“it looks worse than it is”). They smiled big smiles and thanked each hiker who got out of the way for them (that’s hundreds of polite people who’d already run 30+ miles). I stopped saying “you guys are amazing” after a few responded “uh doen FEEL so amazin’ right now” (…….before somebody said “uh doen FEEL so foukin amazin’ right now”…). One smiled and said “ya bin standin’ there fer 4 HOURS, have yeh?” (because there were periodically long onslaughts of runners coming through). So many smiles and “thank you’s” and “much appreciated’s” and “cheers” and even well-wishes for our hikes while these incredible humans Just. Kept. Running. I am in awe of them. And one of them was Frances Warnes, the woman who owns and operates the Kip in the Kirk B&B/hostel in Drymen (stay at her lovely place if you can!).
And yes. Quite a few of them ran in kilts, both men and women, and there was a tam o’shanter or two as well. I was hoping that the kilt wearers wore them with underwear because it was freezing cold and slipping was not infrequent.
Here’s my favorite picture:
NotesfromaHike 