The adventure which began in high spirits took a sharp kick to the schedules courtesy of Easyjet and a 2-hour flight delay – time well spent pondering one’s ability to and indeed the actual f’king point of hammering 1345 metres up and down the highest mountain on these islands. Spirits improved marginally when we discovered, contrary to reports, Sir Jimmy Savile’s haunted old bungalow still lingering on in Glen Coe with all the aura of a tramp trying to coax half a tin Special Brew out of a hazardous waste bin.
Arriving in Fort William, the digs were spot on aside from the washing machine which welcomed us with the unmistakable aroma of human suffering – an apt metaphor for what lay ahead perhaps.
Race day arrived with almost perfect race weather: cool, clear, and just enough breeze to remind us we were in the Highlands but keep the midges at bay. For once, the Ben wasn’t trying to kill us.
Jonny taking off like a man possessed as usual, flying up and down in a phenomenal 1:59, breaking the 2-hour barrier – a big ask on this newer route. 15 Bens down with 6 remaining to reach the magic 21 plaque, we’re told the rest are just about getting over the line… We’ll see…
John was 7 minutes back in 2:06 – 3rd Ben, best time so far, no drama.
Dom, however, brought drama aplenty. Somewhere along the descent and under threat of Jog Lisburn’s Karen Wilton beating him across the line he tumbled arse over tit. Still, he picked himself up and pulled in a gritty 2:17, covered in dirt and blood but grinning through the pain. True mountain running spirit.
Ben – very much in reccy mode this time round in preparation for a proper dig at it next year, rounded things off with a strong 2:51.
Post-race celebrations back in Fort William were a highlight again with a large squad of familiar faces from the local NIMRA scene. Alas too many of them ‘lovely wee IPAs’ plus an amount of Rum on top of the race exertion made for a rough Sunday…
Still the Steede insisted we put in a recovery trail run to Steall Falls after himself and Dom had replaced their running shorts which the accommodation’s washing machine had so harshly mishandled…
Would we do it again?
Of course.
Would we clean the washing machine first?
Nope, only fire can cleanse that horror.
You get the idea…..
Glens Runners 
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