Ultra Tour of Edinb-AAAARGH

Modern Edinburgh is said to have been built on 7 hills.

Having run around it, I think the original town planners must have run out of counting fingers at their final construction meeting.

"Let's just call it 7."

The first upward slope I encountered was when I arrived at the very bottom of the Royal Mile about 6.30 am, and began the slow walk up to the start line with my wife.

We were overtaken by a power-walking Lycra clad lady, and then immediately after that by a slightly older man as he ran up the pavement ahead of us.

Both had race numbers on, and both looked rather more sprightly than I did.

We arrived at the start line in good time, which gave me plenty of opportunity to size up the opposition.

First question on my mind was: why is everyone in t-shirts?

[Also, why do they say 55 km when the route is actually 57? False advertising!]

Second question: which footwear do I need?

Third and final: who is going to be at the back with me?

Answers:

1) Because they must have been insane, it was freezing

2) I started in trail shoes - didn't realise at the time but it was probably wise

3) Not sure. Honestly, I've seen more meat on a chicken wing than some of the people taking part.

Packed into my long sleeved top, one final kit check and at half 7 sharp we charged off down the Royal Mile.

This first 10 minutes was to be my finest part of the race. Down the hill to Holyrood.

I settled in to my stride behind a fella with an orange back pack, but then he ran off a bit quick, and I accepted my fate.

Round the corner, across to the parkland, and.... big hill. Ah of course, Rat Race.

The runners ran, up and out of sight and groups started to separate. As time passed I found myself moving along with the same few people.

We passed golf clubs, the old Royal Infirmary, went through some dark railway tunnels, and some residential suburbs, before finally reaching pit stop 1.

As planned, Charlotte wasn't there to meet me, and it was a quick snack grab, water top up and go, so that I could stay moving with 100 or so people behind me.

Miles 10 to 14 were utterly shit.

Up through the Pentlands and across more of the regional park, I'd love to tell you just how beautiful it was up there...

But I could actually see shag all.

There was driving rain and wind, poor visibility, and I made it in to pit stop 2 absolutely soaked through to the back teeth.

I couldn't see a lot and spent most of the time with my hood wrapped round my face trying to keep going, so there's not actually much more so say about it.

Luckily at the second stop my wife was there with the engine running and I took advantage of a sneaky place to warm up and change my shoes and socks.

Trails off, trainers on. I was soon ready to tackle the pavements in the second half.

And I had to get moving, because more and more people were coming by and I was sure there weren't many left behind... down to just under 50.

I strode on slowly through some often unseen areas of Edinburgh, down the Water of Leith Walkway, and past the famous BT Murrayfield.

It was all getting rather more difficult at this stage, around 22, 23 miles in, but I made it to the docks.

And it was here, that it all went belly up.

Having summoned up my best smile for the photographer - after all I needed proof that I was there! - I missed a route sign and instead of turning right, I went straight on.

Runners disappeared, the way-markers were absent and my feet were killing me.

Two phone-calls to Charlotte, a bit of a piss-and-moan from me, and we worked out where to get back on track and I rejoined the route. In the meantime, the other people in my bit of the field had moved on and I'd been left behind.

I made it to pitstop 3 with just 10 people behind me now, and my long held goal of not coming last in any of the races was in danger of being thrown away at the final hurdle.

It was here that I nearly, *nearly* stopped for good.

After around 8 km I'd been struggling with sciatica and hamstring spasms, and it'd gotten steadily worse while I'd pounded across various hard grounds, up unforgiving ascents and down the slippery muddy slopes.

I'd made it this far, 44 km in, I had 13 km to go, and I was in enough pain that I wondered if I could make it in.

Fortunately a kind soul who was also participating had some pain relief, and after he'd given me a disclaimer ("I am not a doctor and you're taking these at your own risk"), he handed over a couple and I resolved to rest a few more minutes, have a good stretch on the concrete and then carry on.

It was difficult to leave the pit stop, and I was hobbling badly. A race marshall asked me if I was going to be able to finish, and I said we would soon find out.

And that was that. I continued with a run-walk round Edinburgh old and new, with plenty of encouragement from kind locals along the way, and finally the end was in sight.

I gritted my teeth and pressed on. I started to pass a few people who seemed to be struggling more than I was as I ran through the parks and streets, before I realised I could finally hear the finisher announcements.

I skirted the outer wall of the Royal Commonwealth Pool and rounded the corner, and was greeted with a cheer of delight from Charlotte, and the Rat Race MC Keith calling out my name and number with a loud "Congratulations" as I crossed the finish line with no small sense of relief.

I have to say that the marshall team out on the course were fabulous. Rat Race volunteers are a special bunch - thank you to them all.

The route took in parts of Edinburgh I'd never have been to, never intended to go to, and some that I'd never heard of. It was tough, really tough.

I was absolutely knackered. But I was a finisher.

An ultra marathon finisher!

Those people who've recently sponsored me - thank you so much. We've nearly doubled my original target, and I'm so pleased to be able send that money Anthony Nolan's way.

Anyone who has meant to donate but not yet managed to...

Or wanted to see if I'd actually complete everything I set out to do...

Well, I've done it, and there's no time like the present!

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