Heb3: The Barrathon

Today the race they call the Barrathon.

A 13.1 mile tour of the island that takes you clockwise right around the main and only road. It starts and finishes from Castlebay School where they have the flags out, literally.

Castlebay so named because somebody has submerged a castle in the middle of the bay.

The day starts drizzly but fines up sometime around the start of the race, I’m so ‘focused’ aka terrified that I don’t actually notice the precise moment that this happens. Terrified perhaps because everyone is taking about the hill they call Heaval, which appears to be some Gaelic misspelling of the coming together of the words ‘hell’ and ‘evil’. We have been warned.

‘Just like Leek then?’ L quips ‘but with a few downhills by the sound of it’. She really didn’t like Leek.

To make matters worse I’m still trying to fight off a touch of cold that I’ve brought on holiday with me and I’m feeling well bunged up, which could make panting in exhaustion difficult.

True to expectations the race is very lumpy although it actually starts downhill but that’s just a ruse because we’re soon going uphill. Then down, then up, then down, then up, it’s like a tarmac rollercoaster and there’s no way to get off. They’re not big hills but the sheer lack of flat gradually wears you down.

At around 10.5 miles we start the climb up Heaval, a climb apparently described as a bit like pushing a wardrobe uphill. Unfortunately I have forgotten to empty my wardrobe before I started pushing it and my demons quickly come tumbling out of it, falling on top of me. I’m also hyperventilating; my touch of cold is getting touchier. So I walk up part of the Evil-hell but believe me it’s almost as quick as running up and I still overtake people. Finally after about a mile of climbing, the ‘hill’ tops out at around 340ft and then it’s downhill to the finish, Wa-hey, or so we thought.

There’s a final short sharp kick uphill just before the finish and on the top of this unwelcome distraction a morbid crowd has gathered simply to laugh at these mad people.

Finally it’s over. 1:45 isn’t good but in the circumstances, not too bad either. I retrieve the dogs from the car and we sit somewhere, I can’t stand, to wait for L.

Post race they serve us with an amazing buffet, which consists of everything you could possibly imagine except for the one thing I’m really gagging for right now. A humble cup of strong tea. Shouldn’t really complain, they have bottles of Hebridean at the bar. No draught obviously.

In the evening there’s a Ceilidh, that's a knees up I believe but my knees won’t do 'up' tonight and we ought to spend time with the dogs anyway so we skip it.

Humber Bridge Half Marathon

Today we head up to the Hull area for an intriguing half marathon, well at least I thought so, but not one for the bridge-phobics because the Humber Bridge Half Marathon crosses the bridge twice.

L is not usually one for bridges, so she might have to shut her eyes, but then that could have nasty side effects. Although I think they have barriers... I hope they have barriers and hopefully no crosswinds.

Last year they had a few problems with the weather, it was extremely hot and a poor chap died as a result. This has meant an earlier 9am start this year to avoid the heat of the day but heat shouldn’t be a problem this time, as we have rain on tap.

Car parking is good, if a little muddy and right across from the start. Although toilet facilities seem limited, there are plenty of bushes.

The start is rather dramatic. First we have a period of silence for the unfortunate chap from last year, this quickly turns into applause and then while this is going on the gun and klaxon signal the race start.

First a two mile loop around the local area of Hessle, which strings the field out a little before the first crossing of the bridge, for which they have closed a lane to traffic. Although it’s still a bit narrow and it’s a choice between tripping over feet or the cones at the edge of the course.

It’s a long bridge, almost 1.4 miles in length, so you get plenty of time to ‘enjoy’ the experience. Waiting at the other end is an inordinately long slip road, about a mile long, that seems to edge uphill forever. Once that is out of the way the course takes a largely flat route around the area of Barton Upon Humber.

The early rain had eased to drizzle by start time and then soon after stopped completely, creating near perfect race conditions. I was having a good run and by nine miles I was two minutes up on my Benbecula time meaning going under 1:40 was a real possibility.

That was when they threw a nasty little hill at us and then when that was out of the way we ran into a headwind on the return bridge crossing, using the footpath rather than the main carriageway this time. All of which mean I came in at just over 1:41.

Water was mostly in cups, which meant I ended up wearing more than I drank, although there was one bottle stop and they had a sponge stop too. I love a good sponge. I carried it all the way to the finish and then brought is home as a souvenir.

Two Castle Run

So the Two Castles Run, which has an appealing bio, as it starts in Warwick Castle and finishes in Kenilworth Castle. Meaning it’s an A to B, which I like, and there aren’t too many of them about.



However I was already getting second thoughts about this race when emails started arriving every day, and I mean every day, for about the last three weeks. Many of them referring to the whopping eight pages of race instructions. This is for a mere 10k run, it’s not a Ironman. It’s been a real case of too much information.

The most worrying of which has been repeated dire predictions about the lack of car parking around Warwick Castle (and associated expensive) and a repeated insistence that we be in the Castle grounds for 7.50am. This for a race that already starts too early (for me) at 9am. Hmmm.

So we leave well early, only to find that parking is a doddle. We park in the street by the entrance to Warwick Castle for free.

Spectators are banned from the grounds of Warwick Castle, presumably in case they get to see something historic for free. This is a shame as it would have added to the atmosphere but may also have added to the toilet queues. The toilets were a bit of a cock-up to say the least. I think there were actually enough of them, they were just very badly signposted which meant long queues at the most obvious ones and a lot of people, included women, taking unplanned tours of the immaculately turned out Castle gardens.

The start was on a narrow driveway but congestion wasn’t too much of an issue, despite an entry of 3300. Only as usual, many slower runners starting too close to the front.

There was plenty of water, not that I’d usually partake on a 10k but I did here as it was quite hot. Well I tried to, the first plastic cup I grabbed, exploded in my hand, which is one reason why water in bottles is a better option. Then on the final drinks stop I attempted to grab the fourth cup from the end of the line, only to see another runner grab that one and then others grab the other three. So none there either but almost entirely my own fault that time.

The marshalling was good and I though the route was fairly pleasant, although L disagreed. The first and last few miles were nice, only the middle bit through a few housing estates bored me.

I hadn’t researched the route and perhaps I should have done, as it was pretty much uphill all the way. It’s always a risk that the finish may be higher than the start with an A to B. I don’t think they’ve ever ran it in reverse but it would be a nice idea to have it alternating. The uphillness perhaps partly explains my slow time of almost 46 minutes, only partly.

For our trouble we got an ok t-shirt and a medal, which will be boxed as I’m not into medals and a pile of leaflets in the goodie bag. Not a chocolate bar or anything to eat in sight, which is a bit stingy.

There was an excellent baggage service that whisked your kit to the finish and buses laid on to get you back to Warwick. Although we did question the route the bus took to get us back, it took ages, we could almost have ran back quicker. We also had no idea where it dropped us, as we don’t know Warwick, but we found our way back to the car eventually.

Heb3: Benbecula Half Marathon

Let me tell you about the Heb3 Challenge. Which is to complete at least three of the five Western Isles Half Marathons - Stornoway, Benbecula, Skye, Barra or Harris in any one year. Apparently this is the longest running series of half marathons in Scotland and probably the most ridiculous for someone from the centre of England to attempt. So, here we go.



The first challenge was to get an entry into the hugely popular Barra race, which we managed, despite it selling out in 40 minutes. The second challenge is the 530 miles from Nottingham to Uig on the Isle of Skye, from where we will catch a ferry. Which will have to do twice. We couldn’t make Stornoway which was last week, so will return at the end of June to take in Barra and Harris. We could have done Skye of course but that would have been far too easy.

For all this we will get a t-shirt, complete with the Heb3 logo. We like little things like that. If we could have done all five, and this would have been a near impossibility in travel, cost and holiday allowances they would have overprinted our t-shirts with 'rinn mise na coig' on the back. Which I thought was Gaelic for ‘smart arse’ but apparently just means ‘I did the five’.

The next day we get the early-ish morning ferry (9:40am) over to Lochmaddy on North Uist.



The ferry journey takes an hour and forty-five minutes.



Then we’re rolling off the ferry and driving across North Uist which looks simply stunning in the sunshine. The terrain here is rather Icelandic, rocky but very flat with lots of little ‘tarns’ (to steal a Lake District description) everywhere. In fact more of the land is probably water than land, if you know what I mean.



There are a few villages but mostly the houses seem to be scattered around almost at random.
Benbecula is the next island to North Uist but is actually connected via a causeway. As is South Uist. Then there are the islands of Berneray (linked by causeway to North Uist) and Eriskay (linked to South Uist), so you can island hop across five islands without even, well, hopping. In fact there are more smaller linked islands, which we’ll have to research further on our next trip.



So we ‘hop’ on to Benbecula this morning and to a place called Liniclate where a compact field of 77 runners is assembling for the race. It’s sunny again but it’s also windy, something which is probably an ever present factor on these islands. It is noticed that they leave putting up the start/finish signs and the mile markers until as late as possible. Probably, lest they blow away.

Then at about 11am our debut in the 23rd running of the Western Isles Half Marathon series gets under way.

The course is mildy undulating with that strong Hebridean breeze to keep you alert. The mostly straight roads mean that you can at least you can see who you’re stalking.

It’s actually a surprisingly quick course, perhaps because despite the frequent head winds, once it gets behind you, you can really start to fly.

I team up, accidently, with another chap, who puts me to shame because he's far older than me but we pull each other along for most of the way. That is until two miles from the finish when I spot a Wrekin Road Runner, a fellow Sassenach who's come as far as we have. The urge to beat him spurs me onto a good finish.

My time of just over 1 hour 40 minutes is excellent, my best for some time but I worry about a suspiciously quick last mile of 6:30. Not something I thought I was capable of, in fact something I’m sure I’m not capable of after 12 miles, so perhaps I took a wrong turn somewhere and accidentally cheated.

Then there’s a free swim for all runners but neither of us partake. It would be a bad tactical move anyway as this would give others a head start on the huge post race buffet. From which the best cakes seem to get picked over very quickly. I did wonder why some folk started with the cakes and then worked their way back to the sandwiches and soup.

Thanks to the Jubilee weekend we at least now have three days to wind our way back to Nottingham.