Mighty Deerstalker

I was going to go out for a walk this evening to try and smooth out the muscular kinks in my legs but baws to that. Walking’s just too damn awkward so I’m having a quiet evening in instead.

Preamble

The weekend just gone was the time of The Mighty Deerstalker; my first adventure race as competitor rather than marshall. A 10km-ish run up, down, through and across the hills, bogs and rivers of Innerleithen. It was all the more interesting for the fact that I’d roped Steven B. in and we’d be watched from the sidelines by Mum, Dad, Marian and Frances.

I got down to the grounds of Traquair House with S, M and F (after picking up a couple of TMNT role playing books from Oxfam) at about 2ish. I immediately started saying hello to all the people I knew. Big hug from Dorota who immediately demanded to know if I was marshalling or running. Apparently they were low on volunteers, a common occurence it seems.

A swift kick up the arse signalled Carrick’s presence and then off to registration to sign my forms, say hello to Becs and Catherine, one of last year’s Embra Marshalls and then make a slight faux pas. I jokingly mentioned to Dorota that Mum, Marian and Frances weren’t running and yeah, sure she could ask them to marshall. I forgot how persuasive Dorota can be. Before I knew it they’d been corralled into an hour on the registration table. I don’t think they were best pleased but afterwards they said it had been a laugh, they’d left after their allotted hour and Dorota provided visor buffs for them all so not a complete waste of time.

In the meantime we pitched my tent for the night and I got caught up with Rachel who, sadly, wasn’t running due to being on the recovery side of a throat infection.

After that it became a bit odd. I’m used to being a marshall, getting told what to do, where to stand and generally keeping myself busy with any jobs going. As a racer, you stand around waiting. And waiting. I felt like I was on a very slow countdown to the event. Luckily there was the 5km-ish run to watch set off and come back which filled a gap. Otherwise, lots of standing around gassing with various people. It was great to see so many people I knew and I think the other were a little taken aback at just how many times I veered off to say hello to yet another person. The socialness of the race day was beginning to sink in with them I think.

The Race

So, the race. I opted just for shorts and a fleece lined long sleeve top as my base layers with my trusty flat cap, buff and head torch for the top. A bumbag with an energy bar and my untested shoes on my feet complete the ensemble. I wasn’t sure if I was going to be warm enough but it turned out to be a decent combination. While I couldn’t describe myself as being overly warm I didn’t stay cold for too long at any point.

It all kicked off about 7:10pm and the sun was beginning to go down. We ran up towards the gates that stay shut, vauled the hay bale wall and turned back down the driveway of the house. Out onto the road for a bit where Steven and I worked our way up the crowd and I’m damn glad we did. Less than five minutes into the race and we plunged into a waist high, watery bog. Immediately my lower body froze and the subsequent climb up the first hill was a tiring start. Luckily, the start tactics meant that I hadn’t had to queue to wade and, in fact, never got caught in any more standing around.

The ascent altered between slow jogging and brisk walking until we hit the woods. We swung from platform to platform, balanced along logs, climbed through dark tunnels and suffered a very loud PA to reach the first CP. My first CP. I felt bloody great.

The only bad thing was the as soon as I started back down I could feel that my left knee was already complaining. It didn’t have much chance of being heard though as we plunged down a very steep mtb trail complete with steep banks and jumps. Great fun.

Brrrr

Then it was the river. By this time it was dark and the tiny lights of head torches were streaming out along the route. Sadly the route then went into the river which was very, very cold. We waded upstream for what felt like a very long way and then out and the start of the second ascent. It felt brutal but faded away when we turned the corner to find the we were heading up a large scree gully. It was fairly slow going by the caterpillar of lights looked good.

CP2 was waiting for us before a quick spring halfway back down. And it was a sprint. I clearly remember thinking at that point that my new trainers were working very well and that I felt 100% confident about foot placement off-road.

Reflectors

The route then plunged into thick forest with the correct passage marked by bike reflectors located by head torch. Probably my favourite part of the route but sadly, also the area where I think I parted company with my flat cap, stolen by a jealous tree branch.

CP3 was at the foot of the sloe and then along the river bank. I had a great moment in the race here. I found myself leading a small pack and thus in charge of nav. I plunged us back down towrads the river bank after a slight rise and spoke confidently when a voice behind asked if I was sure. We fair charged along the path (or so it felt) and I got increasingly worried as I couldn’t see any tape. I was right though, we came to the end of the unmarked section and saw that the people who’d taken the higher route were now stuck. I was rewarded with a cheery “good navving!” from someone which just felt great.

Plunging back into the river didn’t feel so great and it was at this point that my brain started to shut down. I could keep running without too much trouble but my faculties were failing me though sheer tiredness. I now appreciate the cheering effect of a marshall’s yells, even if they’re directing you into a smelly tunnel. I’m going to make twice as much noise as a marshall from now on just to gee up any racers who are flagging.

We started moving in what felt like convoluted circles, under bridges, over bridges, fences and streams, through crowds, past Rachel and then I turned a corner and saw the wonderful sight of the House.

I plodded up the drive, feeling like a sack of potatoes until I heard the unmistakeable yell of Dad from the sidelines which put life in my legs and doubled my pace. Then more voices that I recognised and suddenly I was sprinting for the last tire obstacle and almost dove through it, scrambled to my feet and plunged my dibber into the final checkpoint.

Annoyingly, my dibber wouldn’t register properly with the race computer so I’ll just have to wait for the official times to find out what I got and where I came in the rankings. Frankly, not finishing last was great and I felt much better when I found out people were still coming in at 11. Schadenfreude, maybe, but I don’t mind.

I definitely want to do more, so hopefully I’ll find some people to take me under their wing, maybe a few mountain marathons and definitely a lot more marshalling.