This race report is dedicated
to the memory of my father-in-law, Jim, who passed away the day before the
race.
On September 27, I ran the Loch Ness Marathon in Inverness,
Scotland. I looked into doing this race
last year, but I waited too long to make reservations, and most of the hotels
in Inverness were already booked. This
year, Marathon Globetrotters chose Jersey, an island in the English Channel,
for their annual meeting. Since the Loch
Ness Marathon was one week before the Jersey Marathon, it made sense to combine
the two into one long trip.
I planned a trip that would include three nights in
Inverness, three nights in Edinburgh, four nights in Jersey, and one night in
London. It seemed like a good idea at
the time, but life doesn’t always go according to plan.
Inverness is the capital of the Scottish Highlands, located
at the mouth of the River Ness. It’s at
the north end of a geological fault line called the Great Glen. Loch Ness is a large freshwater loch (lake) that
fills a deep trench along the Great Glen.
The loch is 23 miles long. It’s only
the second largest Scottish loch by surface area, but because it’s so deep, it
has the largest volume of water.
In 1933, there were reports of a large serpent-like creature
living in the loch. It became known as
the Loch Ness Monster or “Nessie,” and has been a draw for tourists ever since. The 1933 sightings were eventually revealed
to be a hoax. Although there’s no real
evidence of a Loch Ness Monster, there are still occasional reports of “Nessie”
sightings.
There’s an airport in Inverness, but only a few airlines fly
there. KLM has flights from Amsterdam to
Inverness that are operated by Flybe, a regional carrier. KLM is a Delta partner, and Delta has direct
flights from Minneapolis to Amsterdam, so I was able to get to Inverness with
just two flights and book the whole thing through Delta.
All week, I had a sinking feeling about this trip. Earlier in the week, Deb’s dad, Jim, whose
health was already frail, had complications during a surgical procedure. By later in the week, it seemed like he was
recovering, but it really wasn’t a good time to be leaving on a long trip.
On Thursday, one of our cats started having diarrhea and
vomiting. We rushed him to the vet. That was about an hour before I needed to go
to the airport. He’s doing better now,
but it’s another reason why it wasn’t a good time to leave.
Finally, I’ve been having increased soreness in my right
groin for the last two weeks. I used to
only notice it if I did something that stressed those muscles. Lately, I’ve noticed it any time I move my
leg. My left leg has improved
significantly, but my right leg is back to feeling like it did in May. I started to seriously question whether I can
keep up my ambitious race schedule.
I usually look forward to international trips, but this one was
making me nervous.
My experience traveling to the Comrades Marathon in May made
me a bit hesitant to check any bags.
Flying on two different carriers also made me a little nervous about a bag
getting lost. Because this was the
beginning of a 12 day trip that includes two races, there’s no way I could get
by with just a carry-on bag. I use my
laptop bag as my “personal item,” so I could only carry one suitcase onto the
plane. I divided my clothes, toiletries
and running gear between two small bags.
I could have checked them both for free, but I hedged my bets. I checked one bag and carried the other (plus
my laptop) onto the plane. I made sure
everything I needed for the first race was in my carry-on bag.
On my overnight flight to Amsterdam, I was reasonably
comfortable, but I still couldn’t get to sleep.
I made the mistake of wearing a shirt that was too warm. I can’t sleep if I’m warm. I arrived in Amsterdam feeling tired.
When I got off the plane, I looked up the gate for my next
flight. It was H7. I followed the signs to get from D gates,
where I arrived, to H gates. I kept
walking and walking. It was much farther
than I expected.
Because I only checked one of my bags, I had to carry the
other bag, plus my computer bag. Because
of the extra weight I was carrying, my leg started to bother me as I walked
through the airport. I should have put a
compression wrap on my right leg, but I didn’t think I had to walk that far.
I’ve made connections in Amsterdam before, so I know about
how far it is to the arrival hall. I
expected to go through passport control, and then I could stop at the KLM
lounge. When I finally reached H gates,
I realized I never went through the arrival hall. All the H gates are used for flights to the
United Kingdom. By coming directly to
this concourse, it was like I went directly to Britain without entering
Europe. The restaurants in this part of
the airport even had prices in British pounds.
My second flight was only two hours long. The plane was a turbo-prop, so it was
noisy. Despite the noise, I almost fell
asleep on that flight. The flight
arrived in Inverness on time, and my checked bag arrived a few minutes after I
got through passport control. I was
pretty tired as I left the airport, but stepping outside into the cool air
helped wake me up.
There are buses from the airport to the city center, but
they only run twice per hour. I just
missed one, so I took a taxi instead, arriving at my hotel around 5:00 Friday
afternoon. The taxi cost more than the
bus, but it was still reasonable.
I stayed at the Inverness Palace Hotel, which is across the
river from Inverness Castle. Inverness
Castle is a pink sandstone building dating to 1847. It’s built on the same site as the original
Inverness Castle, a medieval castle that was blown up in 1746. The new “castle” is now used as the Sheriff’s
Court.
After checking in, I explored the neighborhood around
Inverness Castle and had dinner at Café One.
My first dinner in Scotland was a gourmet version of fish &
chips. After dinner, I went for a short
stroll along the River Ness, before turning in for the night.
Despite going without sleep the previous night, I still had
trouble getting to sleep. I didn’t fall
asleep until sometime after midnight.
Partly that was jet lag, and partly it was trying to sleep with covers
that were way too hot. On Friday, I
asked housekeeping to make the bed with something that’s not as warm.
Jim took a turn for the worse on Friday. He passed away Saturday morning. I knew I had to cut my trip short, but
getting home was going to be complicated.
My original itinerary had me spending three nights in
Inverness and then taking a train to Edinburgh.
After three nights in Edinburgh, I was going to fly to Jersey (on
British Airways). After the Jersey
Marathon, I would fly back to London (on British Airways), stay there one
night, and fly home the next day (on Delta).
Delta only knew about my flight home from London, which was
on the same itinerary as the flights I took to get to Inverness. While it’s possible to fly home from
Inverness, that was never part of my original itinerary.
I spent most of Friday morning not knowing what I was going
to do. This was going to be a
sightseeing day, but I didn’t really feel like doing anything. Around noon, I finally walked down to the
event village for the marathon. On the
way, I went by St. Andrews Cathedral.
As I continued walking along the river, I saw a runner who
was wearing a Marathon Maniacs jacket.
His name was Roger, and we sat on a bench by the river and talked. Roger is from Canada, and we’ve done some of
the same races. This was his fifth Loch
Ness Marathon, and he told me all about it.
Next, I continued to the race village. I picked up my race packet, even though I didn’t
know yet if I was going to stay to do the race.
I had already paid for the pasta dinner, which started at noon, so I
stayed to eat. I sat with a couple from
South Africa who noticed I was wearing a Comrades hat. On my way back to the hotel, I bumped into
Marsha, a fellow Marathon Globetrotter.
It’s a small world.
This was the first trip I’ve taken where I’ve paid for an
international phone plan that included voice, text and data. Usually I just pay for a data plan. It came in handy, as I made multiple calls to
both Deb and Delta Airlines. After
consulting with Deb, I decided to stay in Inverness long enough to do the
marathon, but then I would fly home.
Delta was able to get me on flights that would get me home
from Inverness on Monday. They waived
the change fee, but I still had to pay for the difference in airfares. Flying home from Inverness is more expensive
than flying home from London, which is what I originally booked. Fortunately, it wasn’t too much more. I cancelled two of my remaining three hotel
reservations. The third one was 100%
pre-paid and non-refundable. My flights
with British Airways and my train ticket were also non-refundable.
I never buy travel insurance. Most standard policies won’t cover all the
potential reasons I might want to cancel a trip. There are “cancel for any reason” policies,
but they tend to be expensive. With all
the trips I do, it’s less expensive to eat the costs of one cancelled trip than
it would be to buy insurance for all of my trips. It’s a shame that the trip I bailed on
happened to be such a complicated (and expensive) trip. I also very rarely make pre-paid hotel
reservations, even though they’re cheaper.
I made an exception for this trip, because the regular rates were so
expensive. I also assumed that this was
a trip that I wouldn’t cancel no matter what.
It’s dangerous to think that way.
I was tempting fate. I’ve learned
my lesson about pre-paid hotel rates.
I spent half the afternoon rebooking flights and cancelling
reservations. Having finally decided I
was still going to run the Loch Ness Marathon, I took a few minutes to organize
my running clothes. Then I headed out to
see more of the city, before the day was over.
Across the river, there’s a shopping district.
This is the British equivalent of a dollar store.
At the heart of the shopping district is the Victorian
Market.
Later, I had dinner with Roger at one of his favorite pubs. On my way back, I saw how Ness Bridge is lit
up in the evening.
I did my best to get to sleep earlier. This time I got to sleep at 11:00. That’s a little better.
In a way, this race is like the Boston Marathon. The race didn’t start until 10:00, but we had
to get up early to catch buses to the start.
Because of the race, the hotel started their breakfast at 5:30. I was dressed for the race and ready for
breakfast at 6:00. At 6:30, I started
walking to where we caught the buses. It
was a little over a mile. Along the way,
I bumped into Roger again. It’s a long
bus ride, so I made a bathroom stop before boarding the bus. The ride to the start took more than an hour.
When we left it was 37 degrees, and there was still frost on
the ground. The forecast called for
temperatures in the 50s and 60s during the race. There wasn’t any rain, but there was a little
bit of wind. I was planning to stop
along the route to take pictures, so I dressed a little warmer than usual. For international races, I wear my Marathon
Globetrotters singlet. To keep my arms
warm, I wore a short sleeve T-shirt underneath.
Instead of shorts, I opted for tights, which conveniently covered up my
elastic bandage and KT tape.
On the bus, it was warm, and with runners in every seat, it
started to get hot. I was wearing a
layer of warm-up clothes over my running clothes, and I started getting sweaty.
The race started near the south end of Loch Ness. Our route to the start area followed the west
side of the loch. Since we would be
running on the east side, we got different views during the bus ride.
The buses dropped us off at 8:15, giving us a long wait
before the 10:00 start. There were an
adequate number of port-potties, but they shared the same line. With over 1,000 runners getting off the
buses at the same time, we quickly formed what the PA announcer called, “the
world’s longest toilet queue.” They
quickly announced that there was a separate area with urinals, so most of the
men moved into that line. Both lines
moved quickly.
The start area was on high ground. In the distance, we had this view of the
south end of the loch.
They had a table set up with coffee and tea. It was an efficient operation. The first table had cups filled with either
instant coffee or tea bags. The next
table had large pots of hot water. Then
a third table had milk and sugar. It was
the first time I was able to get hot tea at the start of a race.
About 30 minutes before the race, I removed my warm-up
clothes, checked my gear bag, and walked to the starting line. As we were moving into position, we got a
send-off from a marching band of bagpipes and drums.
I carried a camera so I could stop and take pictures along
the way. I didn’t have any time
goals. I just wanted to enjoy the
experience and finish the race.
The early miles were mostly downhill, as we descended toward
the loch. I lined up farther back than I
normally do. I knew it would be easy to
start too fast running downhill, so I made a point of not passing anyone. I was counting on the wall of runners in
front of me to keep me from going out fast.
As I reached the first mile marker, I debated whether to
look at my watch. I considered running
the entire race without ever knowing my pace.
Old habits die hard, and I looked.
My first mile was 8:40.
Apparently the wall of runners in front of me all started too fast.
After that, I made a point of stopping at least once per
mile to take a picture. My camera takes
several seconds to focus, so each time I stopped, I moved back a little in the
pack. As I resumed running, I adapted my
pace to the runners around me. This
ensured that my pace would gradually get slower.
In the first few miles, we couldn’t see the loch, but we had
other views running through the Great Glen.
After about three miles, we reached an aid station. Like most European races, they handed out
water in small bottles. One mile after
each aid station, they had bins to collect the empty bottles. The idea was to let you drink at your leisure
while you kept running. I drank about
half of the bottle. Not wanting to carry
any extra weight, I poured out the excess water and carried the empty bottle
for the next mile. I only did that once. After that, I stopped briefly at each aid
station, drank what I could, and discarded the bottle immediately.
Other than a few small villages, we were on our own until we
reached Inverness. These were the first
spectators I saw. They didn’t make much
noise.
By the time we had gone five miles, we were alongside a
small stream. The all downhill part of
the course was over. Now the terrain was
rolling. There was no shortage of hills,
but with roughly equal amounts of up and down.
Shortly after the six mile mark, we reached an aid station
that had energy blocks. The packages were
cut in half, so one end was open. That
made it easy to push the blocks out.
Since most aid stations only had water, I ate the blocks wherever I could
get them.
Soon, we got our first views of Loch Ness since the start. We were always near it, but sometimes it was
hidden by the trees.
Every two or three miles, I checked my pace. By eight miles, my average pace had slowed to
10 minutes per mile. I continued
stopping for pictures each mile, so I continued slipping farther back in the
pack.
Around 10 miles, we reached an overlook. For the first time, I could look back toward
the south end of the loch.
By now, I was getting hot.
It was a mostly sunny day.
Although it was somewhat windy, we were often sheltered by the
trees. I kept taking pictures and continued
to slow down. Aid stations started
getting closer together, and I made sure I was drinking enough.
I reached the halfway mark in 2:18:28. My pace for the first half was similar to my
average pace for the whole race in my previous marathon. Despite pacing myself more sensibly, my
picture stop pacing strategy ensured I would continue slowing down in the
second half. That’s OK. I was enjoying the views.
From time to time, I heard noises. Sometimes it was a creak or groan. Other time, it sounded like a low pitched
squeal. I couldn’t see the source of the
sounds, but they came from the direction of the lake. Maybe the strange noises were made by
boats. Maybe it was Nessie.
After about 16 miles, I noticed that some of the other
runners were walking. I passed the ones
who were walking, but I was falling behind the ones who were running. Many were alternating between running and
walking, so I was leapfrogging them. I
maintained a slow steady run.
Near the north end of the loch, we entered a village and got
our best spectator support so far. One
offered me candies she called jelly babies.
At home, we would call them gum drops.
We soon left Loch Ness behind. I saw a runner wearing a “Nessie” hat. I noticed a race photographer up ahead, so I
picked up my pace to get ahead of the runner with the hat. With any luck, my official race photo will
show me being chased by “Nessie.”
As we continued through the village, we got another bagpipe
serenade.
Just before 19 miles, I saw a hill. At the base of the hill, there was a sign
that read, “Slightly steeper bit approaching.”
Before the race, Roger warned me about a tough hill at this point in the
race. This was it.
It was actually fairly gradual at first, but it was long. Most people were walking the hill. I kept running at a slow
steady pace. The hill lasted all the way
to 20 miles. As I crested the hill, I
knew it would be mostly downhill to the finish.
In the distance, I saw what looked like the tops of building over the
trees. Was that Inverness I saw in the
distance?
I started talking with another runner named Gillian. She said there was one more hill, but it
wasn’t long. I asked her if she had done
this race before. She said she hadn’t,
but she lived nearby and was familiar with the route. It turns out this was her very first
marathon. I offered to run with her the
rest of the way. I was going to be slow
anyway. Helping Gillian get through the
tough miles would give me a sense of purpose.
As we reached the hill, Gillian said she would walk up the
hill. She insisted I go on ahead of her,
but said she was confident she would finish.
I ran up the hill, but it didn’t take long before Gillian caught up to
me again.
Gillian walked through the aid stations. I kept running. At first we were leapfrogging. At 23 miles, we entered Inverness. After that, we stayed together for the rest
of the race.
Between 24 and 25 miles, we came alongside the River
Ness. We were running north along the
east bank of the river.
Just before 25 miles, a spectator yelled, “You’re almost
there.” I have a rule. You shouldn’t tell runners they’re almost
there until they can see the finish line.
Technically, he didn’t break that rule.
Looking across the river, I could see the finish area.
To get to the finish, we had to continue along the east bank
until we reached Ness Bridge. Then we crossed the river and followed the west bank back to the finish. Gillian said she trained here and knew every
crack in the pavement. I was also
familiar with this part of the course.
After crossing the bridge, we ran right past my hotel.
We were almost to the finish. Unless you count the guy with the hat, I
never saw Nessie. Wait a minute. There she is.
She was waiting for us at the finish line the whole time.
Now that we really were “almost there,” Gillian picked up
her pace. I continued at my own pace,
finishing in 5:13:58. Despite pacing
more sensibly in the first half, I still ran much slower in the second half. Partly, that’s because of my picture stop
pacing. Partly, it’s because I was
overdressed and got hot. Still, I don’t
think I could have run much faster. It
seems like I fade in the second half no matter what. Five months of racing without training has
taken its toll. I really don’t have the
endurance for marathons right now. I’m
just finishing them out of stubbornness.
Maybe Deb’s dad, Jim, has rubbed off on me. I used to joke that he invented stubborn.
As I moved through the finish area, I got my medal, my
finisher shirt, and a bag filled with post-race snacks. I like it when they’ve already assembled the
post-race food into goodie bags. It’s a
time saver. I reached into the bag and
pulled out a bottle of juice. At a
glance, I saw “blueberry.” When I
started drinking, I was surprised by the flavor. I took another look at the bottle. It was beet root and blueberry.
The bag was still heavy.
I reached in again and pulled out a can of Baxters soup. I gave that to one of the local runners,
since I couldn’t easily take it home.
The other snacks included a banana, a shortbread cookie, chips and
craisins.
After retrieving my gear bag, I walked back to the
hotel. I was following the last half
mile of the course, so I encouraged the runners who were still finishing. I saw Roger head to the finish. I also saw a group of runners from South
Africa that I met in the early miles of the race. There were runners from all over the world.
By the time I got cleaned up, it was almost dinner
time. I headed to a pizza place near my
hotel. All tables were reserved for the
evening. Next, I went to an Italian
restaurant across the river. Without a
reservation, I couldn’t get a table there for at least an hour. Fortunately, there’s no shortage of Italian
restaurants with pizza in the city center.
On my third try, I was able to get a table. This restaurant would have been my first choice,
but the other two were closer. Now I’ve
had pizza in Scotland.
I slept better Sunday night.
That was a relief, because Monday was a long travel day. My flight to Amsterdam wasn’t until 11:15 AM, so
I didn’t have to get up outrageously early.
After a two hour layover in Amsterdam, I flew to Atlanta. There I had to go through customs, making my connection
a little bit tight. My flight to
Minneapolis arrived at 11:30 PM, but I didn’t get home until after midnight. Today, I’m a wreck.
When I’m traveling and running marathons, it’s like I’m in
another world. Now I’m back to the real
world. The real world is harder.
