[caption id="attachment_944" align="alignright" width="150" caption="Jamie's selected charities are shown on his vest, kindly donated by Compass Print"][/caption]

“So, you’re willing to do it then, Jamie?”  - this is the initial sentence that started off my training and culminated in my running the 2015 Inverness marathon.  It was a lunchtime Social Committee meeting in early February and I had just agreed to run the Baker Hughes 10k for Collie’s two chosen charities, Friends of the Special Nursery and Charlie House.  Full of bravado, I exclaimed that 6.2 miles was an easy run and I quipped that I always wanted to run a marathon. To my horror, when my fellow Committee members asked me if I would run one for our chosen charities in 2015, I was well and truly backed into a corner, and had to reluctantly agree to do so.  How tough could it really be?  I had until 27^th September…

I looked up training plans, did a little bit of research and like all modern approaches I got all my information from Google.  What I realised very quickly was that regardless of how good a search algorithm is, it has clearly never done long distance running training.  My usual training regime consisted of runs of about 7 miles, maximum, with little undulation.  By contrast the Inverness marathon route is 26.2 miles of undulating inclines which begin from mile 7 and then proceed to take you through the stunning, scenic, but hilly terrain of the rural highlands.  However, I am running ahead of myself.

Training on my part was initially very lax.  I went on 4 runs a week, and the ‘long’ runs were no more than 10 miles maximum, finishing by running up either the brae at Kincorth (past Northsound) or Wellington Road (past the Shell building).  This persisted for a number of months until I was about 12 weeks away from the marathon.  I also gave up drinking alcohol for 12 (long) weeks to help with my training, but this ended with a colleague’s leaving drinks and I never regained my steely temperance to the same degree again.

From 12 weeks out I started expanding my training distances to 15 miles, regularly leaving from Cove, running to Garthdee, picking up the old railway line out to Milltimber, then on to Peterculter, before heading back in the Cults road, down Union Street, King Street, and finishing by running along the beach front.  I felt euphoric at the end of each run but one day my better half asked me how far I ran, to which I replied gleefully “15 whole miles”.  She then quickly gave me a reality check by asking “but isn’t a marathon 26.2?” This was with 6 weeks to go, and at this point I realised I was woefully undertraining.  From that point onwards, and with her kicking me out at 9am, there wasn’t a Sunday morning that I wasn’t running up to about 18 miles, with three 10-12 mile runs during the week after work.  Suffice to say, there wasn’t much time for a social life but the training very quickly became addictive and sadistic in equal measures, especially when running through all four seasons on the same run. I only completed a 20 mile run with about 7 days to go before the marathon.  I truly had no idea how the marathon would play out….

6am on 27^th November my hotel alarm went off.  It was game day.  I grabbed a shower, applied half a family-sized tub of Vaseline and took 2 constipation tablets (not to be graphic, but this is the reality of marathon running) and that was me off on the bus to the start.  The bus journey made me think the start line was situated somewhere between Inverness and what felt like the Outer Hebrides.  In reality it was presumably 26.2 miles away from Inverness city centre.  On the start line, standing in a throng of over 5,000 runners, I felt both excited and nervous in equal measure.  The starters pistol went and I was away.  The first 5 miles were easy going, the adrenaline and endorphins pumping through me.  One of my thoughts at this point truly was “I could do a marathon every week!”  However from mile 7 on, the inclines started and that, combined with the rush of blood making me go off quicker than my planned pace, made me start to lose those good vibes at about the half-marathon mark (13.1 miles).  From then onwards it became an increasing war of attrition.  A major issue of long-distance running is loss of salt from your body, it crystallises on your skin the more you perspire.  So it was a constant battle to hydrate, but to ensure there was enough salt in what I drank to avoid over-hydration. At mile 20 the real incline started, a local comparison would be the incline of Wellington Road, except I had to repeat this three times over 3 miles.  From mile 23 I had cramp in my quads and calves at the same time, which means you can’t stretch one without tensing the other.  The upshot of this is that I ran the remainder of the race with cramp.  4:22:16 after starting, I crossed the finish line, very proud of myself but very sore.  I am delighted to have ran the race, and pleased to have raised £300 for the Firm’s chosen charities, but will I run a second? Watch out for future newsletters to get the answer.