Great Edinburgh Run race report. 10 miles – 9 of them hilly !

As the name suggests there is something great about being one of thousands of runners pounding past the capital’s historic landmarks creating a ribbon of gaudy lycra through its historic streets. As city races go – Edinburgh provides an impressive backdrop.

This was the second time I have taken part in this race and as with the Inverness Half earlier in March, I really noticed the difference during the race from losing some weight and improved fitness. On a route that is not short on hills it is very nice to be carrying fewer pounds when pushing up the inclines and aside from the physics – I feel more confident in my running these days.

The route starts and finishes at Holyrood Park with Arthur’s Seat – a popular walk and run route – lumbering behind. Despite it being mid April it was a very chilly morning – with a temperature of around 3 degrees and a biting wind – so waiting for the race start in shorts was somewhat character building.

As I don’t very often race this distance and with only 1 previous attempt I had given my time as 1. 45 – meaning I was in the slowest pen and amongst the last to leave. On a cold race day morning this was maybe not one of my better ideas – but although there was a small delay in starting – the race organisation was good , and runners all got away safely and without too much fuss.

As is often the way on race day – waiting around gets the nerves going and in my case the inevitable – do I need a wee ? The wave I was in set off just after 9.50 and after all the hanging around I was very glad to start running to warm up . It was pretty easy to find space to get past slower runners and looking at my race splits I did the first mile in 8.46 – so a bit faster than my start in Inverness.

The first mile is a loop that takes you back almost to the start and the back of the Palace of Holyrood House ( the Queen’s residence in Scotland ), then on up the first of the many hills as the route follows the Royal Mile before dropping down past Waverley station then a route change to the second hill – straight up Market street to the Mound to rejoin the Royal Mile before heading towards the University area and the Meadows and a chance to gather breath.

The route then does a chicane of sorts after a length of the Meadows to Lauriston place then doubling back along the Cowgate before another longish climb up past the Pleasance heading towards Holyrood park once more.

There is a lovely section from miles 6 – 8 where the race route follows the path of the Innocent Railway to Duddingston village – then a short but nippy hill from Duddingston to the low road beneath Arthur’s Seat. Mile 8 – 9 was a bit tough as we were into a headwind – but the sun was shining by now and the goal was to get to mile 9 and the promised downhill finish.

A short slog to the mile 9 marker and then the end was in sight. This is the only race I have taken part in that has such a long downhill finish and it is certainly very welcome. But even with the downhill run, I could not quite work out exactly where the finish was , although I could hear the PA announcing runners’ arrivals. I kind of mis-timed the very last 1/3 of a mile section as my legs started feeling a bit jellyish after the long downhill – but I still managed a decent sprint finish of sorts to cross the mat with a time of 1.32.35 – a full 8 minute improvement on my previous time for this race.

Food for free ramsons reminisences

bank of wild garlic growing in woodlands

Coloured book plate from Richard Mabey book

Earlier this month I made wild garlic pesto with my daughter and thought it a very current thing to do. Foraging,making food from scratch and connecting with nature definitely seems in vogue right now.

The day before we had taken a walk to collect the wild garlic from a woodland path and then, with a 21st century twist to our attempts at wild survival,had Googled to verify the plant type lest we pick anything deadly and then referred to Google once more to find a recipe.

Was very enjoyable to first harvest the leaves, then make the pesto together – even if the pine nuts, pecorino and olive oil were neither free nor foraged locally. But satisfying still to make food with a tiny connection to the land and to enjoy a bit of mother – daughter bonding over a shared food discovery at the same time.

After our pesto adventure I came across my ageing copy of Richard Mabey’s book -Food For Free – given to me as a school prize for Modern Studies in 1976. Prize winners were free to pick their own book and my choice of this guide to feeding yourself from nature’s larder was, I imagine, something that fitted with me going through something of a mildly hippy phase – along with dressing in cheesecloth and listening to Bob Dylan.

In the mid 70s at the school I attended my favourite teachers seemed to me very modern and liberal – certainly after my village primary school. My teacher of Modern Studies,with her views on the Russian revolution and questionable power of the media certainly appeared to be interesting, worldly and cool to my 14-year-old self.

Choosing the Richard Mabey book coincided with a rather fogeyish interest I had at the time around the disappearing skills of food preservation and cooking and wanting to know more about how things were done in the ‘olden days’ – quizzing my farmer dad about how to preserve food, make butter and making a reasonably successful attempt at crowdie – basic cheese making.

With the benefit of hindsight I could say this was me reacting to the change I saw in eating patterns and dominance of factory produced ready meals – Vesta curry, Findus crispy pancakes and the like, but I don’t know that I was trying to make a social comment or that I was ahead of the curve, more likely I was just a bit of an odd child.

Is interesting now as with a renewed interest in food provenance and craft skills more prevalent to think of that curiosity and my childhood experience. Many things I took for granted growing up in the countryside around freshly grown food and a kinder approach to farming now seem to pop up on lifestyle and food programmes, magazine articles as a return to a better way to live and eat. Reassuring I suppose to know that while food trends and fashion ebb and flow the fundamentals of good taste, heathy food and craft survive.

These days I no longer live in the countryside so my foraging is of the urban variety and I am really just a dabbler in trying to find food for free, but through the small act of gathering wild garlic and making pesto with my daughter, I felt I had gone some way to rekindle my latent hunter gatherer.

Sunday morning sun-filled Cambridge run

Running in different places with a poor sense of direction has seen me lost on more than a few occasions, but if I stick to an easy landmark and use my eyes over my shortcomings in map reading its usually OK.

Sunday morning in Cambridge the sky was blue after two days of grey , so although my legs felt a bit creaky and my body a bit weary after 2 days of walking everywhere, I knew if I did not run I would regret it later.

Maybe it is my imagination but each time I visit Cambridge it seems that on the day I am due to go home – usually a Sunday – the weather is often at its best , and leaving when the sun is shining adds to my feeling of missing or loss. Maybe it just highlights my general low mood , knowing I wont see my daughter again for 8 weeks or so.

The route I followed headed out of the city towards Fen Ditton, and beyond. I followed the river starting from Newmarket road and as I could see runners and walkers on the opposite side I knew there had to be a crossing point somewhere. It was a beautiful spring morning – skies blue, sun reflecting on trees and a day full of hope.

I had no real time pressure and was aiming to do around 6 miles – but once out and enjoying the windless almost perfect running conditions and the fun of exploring new territory – I kept going, crossing at a lock then on a bit further – catching a glimpse of a farmer tending sheep on the opposite bank then turning back for the return leg into Cambridge.