2012

Kind of wishing I'd signed up for Loch Ness Marathon this year, though it's too late now. I loved it last year and I keep getting little pangs when I hear about other people doing it, like, "that's MY race!". Next year, for sure. Running Edinburgh in May kind of reinforced for me the things I liked about Loch Ness, because it was a... DIFFERENT experience. Not an entirely bad one, and many of the things that were bad were not the fault of the organisers, but Loch Ness was just - better. It was smaller, the route was nicer, the finish was much better. My husband and daughter were there to cheer me on a few hundred metres from the end, and I was able to find them straight away afterwards. People handed you things/said well done/hung your medal round your neck, as opposed to the whole mill around aimlessly/rummage in boxes/not know what the hell was going on experience which is what I mainly remember from the finish area at Embra.

Admittedly, LNM does have that whacking great hill just exactly where you don't want a whacking great hill, and I'm sure if I do do it again I'll be swearing at (a) the hill and (b) myself for having conveniently forgotten how bad it was, but hey, a hill's a hill, get over it. There were compensations. Going downhill, for instance.

I suppose you could argue that going back to the same event denotes a lack of adventure and that would probably be true, because the other big thing I have my eye on next year is D33 :-O a race which practically runs through my backyard. The route may be (is) familiar - I've run it, or sections of it anyway, many times, yesterday for instance - but the distance, 33 miles, certainly isn't. Familiarity may breed contempt in some cases but there's also a sense of reassurance, for me, in knowing what lies ahead - in terms of terrain, if not how I may be feeling at 26+ miles. I guess I was at the back of the queue when senses of adventure were being handed out. Admittedly, the temptation to take a detour to my house and a nice cup of tea on the sofa at around 29/30 miles when my legs will doubtless be in bits may be strong... can only hope the lure of the finish line/medal/beer/ability to say "I've done an ultra" will be stronger.

But when a race you really want to do is right on your doorstep, it would be rude not to. Wouldn't it?