ACP 100k

It’s 6:30am on a bright but cold March morning in Perth. A excited and nervous buzz ripples through the air. We’re a band of 8, 4 men and 4 women selected to run for our country in the highly anticipated self transcendence 100k. Which incorporates the annual Anglo Celtic Plate

I’m nervous, very nervous. This is the unknown for me in several ways. One: I’ve never ran a looped course. Two: I’ve never raced over marathon distance on tarmac. Three: because I’m very unorganised I’m with a support crew I’ve only just met. And Four: I’m running for my country. As it turns out, number three was the least of my concerns. Meeting Gillian McCracken was very reassuring. And she was of course an amazing support throughout. So I was chatting and she was asking what I’d need (I’d portioned everything up in an attempt to make her job as easy as possible) and if I’d want to change (probably not but there’s shoes etc in my bag just rummage) 

A quick team picture occurred, which shows us nervously smiling, then we lined up with the others for the start. I tried to shuffle back, to just take my own place away from the team. I didn’t want to get pulled along too fast. Well, that was the plan...

So we were off, 40 odd runners mad enough to run round in 42 circles for upwards of 6 hours 40 mins. I tried to settle into rhythm. “Just a run in the park” and it was nice, despite the wind. Very soon I found myself in a pack, with team mates Sophie Mullins, Morgan Windram, England’s Sophie Carter and myself. I knew I didn’t want to be setting the pace. The others are greatly experienced runners, so I held back, but in time with them for the most part. 

The quadrant showed fluidity, sometimes Morgan and Sophie in front, sometimes the two Sophie’s together and I did feel a bit guilt for not taking a turn to set the pace. But I wasn’t prepared to jeopardise my race this early in. I told myself if this pack lasted and I felt good, certainly I’d take the lead. But not yet. We all started fuelling early, I was planning on chews, gels, tailwind and baby food pouches. Which worked well. We were plugging out 7:30-8 min miles. It was a tad too fast for me, but I thought I’d try and see how long this felt ok. Everything was fun. Morgan and Sophie played dog bingo and I listened. Later apologising for my silence. We trotted round quite happily, maintaining our foursome till about 35k. 

At this point I realised with a long way still to go, this was too fast for me. So, on lap 14 I exited for the port a loo. In order to break away. As I returned to the course I was of the mindset of running my own race. The experience of our team mates in the first 1/3 of the race had enabled me to reassure me that my fuelling strategy for this type of race was about right. That I was travelling ok pace wise and that it was time to do my own thing. But this time the 50 k race had set off and it was nice to see some familiar faces, the amazing Fiona Rennie, Helen Munro, Club mate Norry McNeil and Stuart MacFarlane I was tootling along quite the thing, passing the lovely Jo Murphy (who would later pass means regain her lead). I was keeping my brain busy, there is a cyclist counter in the park and I was excited to see how many it was up to on each lap. It was 8 at the start “ooooh what is it this time, 103?”, I believe by the end it was in the 300’s. Partly due to my friend Brian, more on that later. 

Then something happened, I was 56k in . And my mind cracked. I crashed. I was slowing, naturally, 56 k will do that too you. But my mind started to go ape. “I’m failing the team” “I’ve not got another 44 k in my legs” I wanted someone to notice. I passed our crew, trying to make my face show how I felt. No one said a word. Demoralised I went off on my next round. Still slow, “I must put on a sadder face this time” 58 k sad faced, pleading eyes, looking at Iain Beattie, like he’d save me. Nothing. Another lap, I was at 60 k. I was quitting. No one asked me I thought, my stupid brain working overtime. So I’m gonna have to tell them. I walked in. “I’m done” I said. Tears streaming down my cheeks. “I’ve failed you.” But this is where the team support is vital in races if this nature. Debbie hugged me and forced me to look at her. She asked what was wrong I muttered something. She asked if I was injured “no” was I sick? “No” but “I’m done” “Can i walk a lap?”

“That’s fine” said Debbie. 

Gillian gave me my baby food and I said I’d walk a lap and see how I felt.

Off I went. And in 1/4 of a lap i tried a jog, then a run, then I picked up. The thing with running is my mind cracks easily. Having taken some time to analyse this I realise it may not be my mind just saying no, but my body. I’ve trained myself through years of eating disorders to ignore my body. And although I’m good at feeding it now, I do forget to listen to it’s signals sometimes. And that’s when my brain says enough. It essentially overrides my conscious thoughts and does its own thing. The fuel I took in, as well as the hugs and encouragement of course, reset me. And I was moving well again.

I began chatting, and encouraging the 50k people as I passed. (Sorry if I was annoying) and then I got a surprise visit from my friend Brian, on his bike to up the bike counter. That lifted me. Then my mum, her partner and our dogs turned up. That gave me a boost. And all was great. I was running strong, my pace having picked up again into the 8-8:30 min mile range, except when I took a walk break to ensure I was eating. 

And so, the count down to my last laps were on. And I felt reflective, my last lap came and I mentioned I’d try and make 8 hours 30 but didn’t think I would. that was ok. Back in my initial talks I had said 8:30 was an A goal for me. So if I was going to be just over that, so be it. I felt oddly emotional, emotional for the park. I climbed the wee hill for the last time and felt a pang if sadness. I was attached to this park already, likening it later to a sort of Stockholm syndrome. I was still feeling strong as I rounded the last bend, threw my bottle to the side and picked up the flag for the finish. I felt overwhelmed. So happy my mum had made it up to see me, it meant a lot, so pleased for the other team members, all of whom were done. And proud of myself. 8:33:26 not too shabby for this amateur. 

Everyone had done amazing. Our women taking 1st place. And our men taking 2nd place. I hope we’d done our manager proud. 
Acknowledgments go to Adrian Scott for his amazing organisation, and the whole team who gave up their weekend to make the race possible. To our team; Debbie Martin Costani, Val Macauley and Sharon Law. To my support, Gillian McCracken. All the other team members, particularly Ken and Sue Walker and Andy Stewart whom gave the best hugs ever.And a huge well done to allthe runners. Photos by Russ Valentine and Debbie Costani