Race Across Scotland Take 2

I did it. Maybe that should be we did it because everything that has led up to getting across the finish line at Cockburnspath has been a team effort. From Simon Franklin’s four days of dedicated support to everyone at Cumberland Fell Runners who’ve encouraged this old battered body to run and the guys at Lab Gym who’ve made me feel welcome in an alien environment. Not to mention my family, partner Andy and our son Conrad, who’ve lived with my obsession over the last four years.

220 official miles from Portpatrick right across Scotland to Cockburnspath, 227 Strava miles and almost 32,000 feet of elevation in a time of 96 hours 37 minutes with over three hours to spare on the dreaded 100 hour cutoff. 21^st Female and 76^th overall out of a total of 186 runners who toed the start line. The DNF rate in this race is huge with over 51% of runners failing to reach the finish, and last year I was one of them.

Background

At the age of 22 I ran the 180 miles from Everest Base Camp to Kathmandu with my friend Helene Whittaker in 3 days 10 hours smashing the overall record by over a day. It was one of the biggest events of my life and when I restarted fell running in the Lake District five years ago, after a gap of almost 30 years, I thought what else is this body still capable of?

With a heavy mix of ignorance and arrogance I signed up for the Northern Traverse 2022 planning to walk the route and sleep at least 3 hours a night. It was a rude awakening and I pulled out after 80 miles with a sore knee and a battered ego.

The following year I was back. Better prepared except of one small detail – my feet! My Northern Traverse 2023 attempt ended with the soles of my feet literally dropping off. Trench foot is something I never want to experience again, the pain is excruciating. At 150 miles, I was advised that continuing risked permanent damage. Andy came to the rescue and another coast to coast attempt ended in failure.

2024 and I couldn’t face going back to the Northern Traverse but crossing the country on foot was an itch I still needed to scratch. Why I thought the Race Across Scotland would be an easier option is a mystery. This race by GB Ultras is longer, the overall cutoff is harsher, there are long boggy sections with vague footpaths, incredibly steep climbs and energy sapping road sections. Plus this time I would have to run.

My first attempt ended with my exhausted body shutting down just before Lauder. I didn’t know where I was, why my body hurt so much, I just knew I wanted to go home. Up against the cutoff times I’d been pushing through checkpoints without sleeping. When Andy came looking for me my mind was so messed up I thought he was another of my many hallucinations. Almost 185 miles completed and yet another failure but the first thing I did after catching up on sleep was enter the 2025 race – with a promise to Andy to NEVER GET IN THAT STATE AGAIN!

Preparation

This time I was taking the race seriously. Instead of fitting the race around my fell running plans I cut fell racing down to a minimum, just entering the Ennerdale Horseshoe Fell Race, (more unfinished business from being timed out the year before). Race completed and it was back to ultra training.

I ran 30% more miles leading up to the race than in 2024, clocking up over 1000 training miles. There were many long days out including two 30 mile ultra races, two 50 mile ultras and two 50 mile training runs. One of those ultras was in the flat lands working on my weakness – roads.

Last year my shoulders and upper back gave me grieve so with trepidation I started strength training at Lab Gym with an old woman program put together by Joe Anderson. Joe was asked not to break me! It helped.

One big difference this year was taking part in the RAS organised recce runs. These were held in March and helped my get to know fellow runners, supporters and race organisers of this exceptional race. The camaraderie helped to quell all those doubts and fears and I know I’ve made friends for life.

My only fail was not spending enough time practicing with poles. I continue to have a love hate relationship with the clickety clack sticks.

The Start

You spend all year preparing for a race and then when it finally comes round it takes you by surprise. Andy drove me to the start and we stayed in the big hotel overlooking Portpatrick: a place that was straight out of The Shining. The food was rank; I think most of it was pre-frozen in the 70’s but I’d come prepared with extra supplies.

The pipers saw us off, a last hug from Andy and nerves settled along the back drop of the West Coast cliffs before turning inland along roads and gentle paths. The first checkpoint at Castle Kennedy came quickly; 13 miles down and 30 minutes faster than last year.

Feet

Of course it rained at the first checkpoint making it tempting to skip my first sock change but some things are just too important. My routine for every 10 to 15 miles throughout the race was take off wet socks, air feet as much as possible, apply Sport Shield, apply Trench Foot cream or Gehwol Extra cream (sometimes both), put on dry socks. I always had one or two pairs of dry socks in my pack.

I swapped shoes throughout the race based on the terrain and had a stack of dry insoles to use as needed. My main issue was my feet getting too hot. I had a couple of in-trail stops to air my feet (and snatch a quick nap); I’d set my alarm for 10 minutes and flake out on the trail to the bemusement of passing walkers. After the sweltering stretch to Lauder, Tracy Halligan magicked some ice cubes out of nowhere and helped save my day.

Blister free apart from two tiny blisters I picked up on the last 20 miles when the end was in sight and systems starting to slide.

First Section To Dalry

There are 46 undulating miles from the start to where you meet your support crew for the first time: Glentrool (checkpoint 3). Lots of road and some very boggy forest sections. It was hot but there was no risk of running out of water. Race Director Wayne supplied hugs and an extra water stop and the amazing Alisha was back with her legendary pop up checkpoint. The iced water and watermelon went down a treat.

I was in my comfort zone. Pace reasonable and sitting further up the field made a huge difference to my confidence. The year before I was right at the back of the race from the word go. This time I was up on schedule and I had Simon! It’s the first time I’ve been supported in an event since 1992 and wow does it make a difference.

A quick swap to road shoes and I headed out in daylight along Loch Trool, possibly the most beautiful section of the course. Darkness hit on the long section to Clatteringshaws Loch and by the time I reached Simon I was ready for a quick lie down. This is where I started to have a few reservations about sleeping plans. The seats don’t fold down flat in the back of an Audi A3 and my 45 minute nap was with legs akimbo sliding off the sleeping mattress with my shoulders crushed up against the boot door. Still with Simon stationed outside protecting me from intruders and midges, it seemed rude to say anything. I dozed and felt refreshed.

My little nap and a shoe change made all the difference and the bracken bashing section over to St John’s Town of Dalry didn’t seem too bad; apart from the pesky midges.

The Big Leg To Sanquhar

I kept telling myself: I feel better than last year and most of the time it was true. I shared a few miles with the famous Scotty Haslam talking about the addiction of ultra running and Simon met me with a cup of tea at Stroanpatrick. So far so good and I stormed off towards the steep slopes of Benbrack.

Ultra running rewards patience and laughs in the face of ego. I pushed on ahead of a German couple on the lower slopes of Benbrack only to be hit by a wave of tiredness as they overtook me near the top. The boggy ridge from Benbrack down to the Poleskeoch bothy always seems endless and this was my first low point.

Still the friendly face of Laura Yates at the bothy and the Karin and Sue’s pop up check point around the corner with lashings of tea, cake and butties are enough to revive the spirits of anyone. I pushed on to Sanquhar knowing the going at least felt easier than the year before.

It Almost Went Horribly Wrong

Last year I was right up against the cutoff times so this year I wanted the biggest possible buffer but this is where my 10 hour contingency started slipping away.

Coming into Sanquhar (95 miles) late afternoon I was 3 hours ahead of my 2024 race time but I’d slipped 1 hour 30 off my 90 hour schedule. No harm done and Siobhan Brennan was there with Simon to ply me with all sorts of snacks and goodies. Sorry Siobhan but my interest in snacks was practically zero. I could eat food put in front of me with relish at checkpoints but I had almost zero interest in food out on the trail. My appetite stayed this way for the rest of the race.

A brief 30 minute kip, foot routine, some sort of stew and I was on my way to Wanlockhead. There’d been talk about rain and pushing on to get over the next hills before it hit but I wasn’t expecting a full blown rainstorm.

Just before I reached the Wanlockhead checkpoint it started lashing it down and I almost panicked. At the checkpoint I met a shivering Kirsty Ash heading for her support van and a warmup but the problem was my support crew wasn’t there. I’d arranged to meet Simon at the A702 Biggar layby, at least 3 hours further along the trail. I had some of the biggest hills and most technical terrain to cover and I was soaked.

I went straight into the toilets avoiding the checkpoint party atmosphere crowded with runners avoiding the weather. I could have joined them but it would have been the end of my cutoff buffer and possibly my race. I stripped off my soaking skort and dug out my waterproof pants. My top half wasn’t too bad – my waterproof jacket was doing it’s job but it was cold and I knew I’d soon be shivering just like Kirsty. The solution was my Sol survival bag. Baselayer on, then I wrapped my bag around my torso like a waistcoat and put my waterproof jacket on top – and hightailed it out of the checkpoint before any questions were asked about my kit.

I almost enjoyed the next section. The survival bag kept me warm and compared with last year I knew where I was going. A marshal escorting a runner down from Lowther Hill tried to persuade me to turn back with him but I convinced him I was okay and perfectly safe running into a storm! Still it was a relief to finally drop down to the A702 layby and see Simon’s car.

Dry clothes, a poor attempt at sleep with my legs twitching, some cold pizza and Siobhan’s chicken sandwich and I was back out on my way to Beattock. Probably stopped for longer than necessary as I couldn’t sleep but I was dry and moving.

On to the Daer Reservoir where Katya Halsall came past me screeching like a banshee in her effort to stay awake (I think she thought she was singing) and by the time I reached Crook Road just before the checkpoint I was modelling a delightful midge head net. I’d lost 3 hours of my buffer by the time I reached Beattock but at least I was still in the game.

Getting Past Last Year’s Drop Out Point

The spectre of last year’s DNF hung over me. Even though I felt better, my legs didn’t ache and I didn’t have any blisters, it was still hard not to lose time. I had a catnap before tackling the awful road section to Ettrick (checkpoint 9), just long enough to reset my hot and aching feet.

Over to St Mary’s Loch I felt terrific but sadly passed a struggling Kirsty. Dry shoes and feet made all the difference but didn’t last as the heavens opened once again. At least this time the rain was warm.

I enjoyed a hug from Wayne at his St Mary’s Loch pop up checkpoint but I didn’t stop explaining that Kristian Dela Cour was chasing me down! The amazing Kristian was attempting a Southern Upland Way double – as if one wasn’t enough and had set off from Cockburnspath three days before the race to join the race start line at Portpatrick.

The American Jeffrey Stauch latched onto me for the killer climb over to Tranquair and this year I didn’t get lost. Still it was a relief to get to Tranquair, almost three hours up on my 2024 time but I was 6 hours down on schedule with my buffer now in bits.

So far, I’d managed to keep the sleep demons at bay and instead of joining Jeffrey for a sleep I was fired up and cocky and decided to push on alone.

Well that was a mistake. From Tranquair, there’s a sharp pull uphill through the forest then you’re running along the Old Drove Road to Three Brethren. It should have been a quick and easy section but in the early morning mist and darkness I felt disorientated. Another runner appeared out of nowhere and started annoying me. I was convinced he was an early morning jogger and not part of the race. A feeling of running around in circles hit me and I’m sure I fell asleep at one point because I came to cold and disorientated.

Still, with a bit of swearing at the totally unnecessary climbs on the final stretch, I made it to Galashiels and a ready and waiting Simon. I collapsed into a deep sleep.

Last year, Race Director Wayne woke me up after 10 minutes at Galashiels, and with a concerned look, told me I had to run hard to make the cutoff at Lauder. This year it was a relaxed Simon and I had time to eat properly before venturing on my way.

This time there was no blowing up on the relentless steep climb to Lauder under a hot sun. I had a kip amongst some wild flowers to give my sore feet a rest and made it down to the checkpoint three hours ahead of the cutoff time.

The End Game

I confess this last section wasn’t fun. Flying ants tried to consume me on the section over to the Watch Reservoir. The only way to avoid them was to try and run faster – not exactly easy with almost 200 miles in your legs.

At the watch, the wonderful Norman and Margaret set up a bed for me on the veranda. A twenty minute snooze followed by the best breakfast ever set me up for the rest of the race. Kristian Dela Cour had caught me up and provided a reality check. I had twelve hours to do the last 22 miles – of course I could do it.

The next twelve miles were hell. A group of about 10 runners ended up clustered together to get past some raging cows and the route was a line of endless detours over steep farmers’ fields, feet constantly tripping on rocks you couldn’t see in the dark. We were walking at a death march pace and I was worried about the time.

Simon appeared somewhere near Duns for a much needed hug and at last I realised I knew where I was. It was time to take off on my own but every time I caught up other runners I’d end up walking at their pace and it all felt so slow.

Five miles from the finish Kristian caught me and took off running fast. Or at least it looked fast to me. I thought if Kristian can do that after seven days on his feet, I can do it after four. So I ran.

Of course I never caught him but running made the last 5 miles feel so much easier. I could ignore the pain in my lower back, grit my teeth against some annoying little blisters and force my legs to run. The speed was exhilarating. 20 minute mile pace has never felt so fast!

It was a magical finish running along the east coast cliffs to Cockburnspath just as the sun was rising. Perfect timing. Tears of joy streaming down my face. Job done. Finally conquered the Race Across Scotland.