Sunday 27th May

This is it......

We wake early enough and go and get some breakfast, I'm in normal clothes for once and I haven't had many breakfasts.

I got stuck into the fruit, muesli and porridge and the fruit juices, lots of fruit juices, while Dawn got stuck into the cooked breakfast to start, then the fruit, the yoghurt, some cereal, I went up to get changed into my running gear to find that she'd made it onto the toast and croissants, so I left her there and went out into the rain to the start of the race on Princes St.

No support, gee thanks.

It was bitter, I was wearing my riding jacket because it was light and waterproof and we all stood in the bus stops trying to stay warm and dry, hoping someone else would try and get in and that they would plug that one gap the wind was finding. We waited and as we stepped out to line up the rain held off thankfully. The first bit of the race was fine, through to the park and away towards the long road along the water front. The running in the beginning was all into a head wind and was hard going but after about 14/15 miles we turned and it was wind with but it was still cold.

One minute the coat was open the next is was wrapped up tight. I was doing OK, just over 3 hours time for the first half but when I was coming out of the some park area after about 18 miles all the work that Benji had done had been spent, it was at this point that you realise how good he was. It was my calves, the bit of your leg you use for both running and cycling, solid rocks attached to the back of my legs. Any spring I had in my stride was going and it was my hips and thighs that were doing the running. I'd give it a go for half a mile and relax for half a mile.

If I'd have gone for it or let it completely relax it would have taken me ages to get home, I would have burnt myself out or lost all rhythm. When I hit the 20-21 mile area a woman started to run down the street, on the opposite side to me, shouting and asking if I was the bloke that had cycled up there........groupies..........how good is that.

Seeing the 26 mile markers was so good, I felt like pinching it and taking it home with me and as we rounded into the stadium I felt so good that I started to pump the ground, waving my arms so they'd cheer louder, it was cold and only those that had to be there had turned up, the racecourse being a little out of the way.

And so I finished cold and, amazingly enough, without a silver blanket, we could all have done with one. But the banana went down well and so did the drinks and the banter in the queue for the massage is always good. There's something about mass participation events that just brings out the best in people. And there's something about massage tables that chills be to the bone.

We got a hot drink, Dawn had gone back to bed and managed to arrive at the racecourse 10 minutes before I did, gets better doesn't it... The room was full of runners shivering trying hard not to spill their drinks, too numb to feel the burn but too cold to afford to lose a drop.

WE then collected a nice Angus burger and checked out the charity stall before getting the bus back to the city centre, then it was shower and.............beer.

Into the centre, pint of real ale and a whisky chaser, in fact lots of pints of real ale and lots of whisky chasers on the Royal Mile.

And the time......3 Hours 22 Minutes.........not bad after 350 miles I think, I'm chuffed with anyway.

Next day we rose and this time I nailed the breakfast bar before we packed up and headed our separate ways, Dawn flying home (selfish sod) and my on the train. Now Virgin have spaces for the bike but they aren't great. The bike's hang vertically but you don't know who else has hung there bike and the bikes are stacked from the wall to the corridor so if you put yours on first you have to find the other person if, like me, they lock their bike and he's the issue, Virgin don't give you a lot of time at stations.

The train was held up on route by a broken freight train so I arrived at Preston too late for my train and had to wait an hour and a half for the next one. Luckily when I got there the other bike wasn't locked but it was still a rush to get the straps off, bike and restrap the other one, luckily a bloke who'd just cycled the Scottish Highlands with his wife was sat next to me and helped with the bikes, I pity anyone who has to do it alone.

I got home just before 8pm, Dawn was already home and......and........and.......had already gone to the pub.....so that's where I went, Tuesday I had a day off work and did nowt.

Saturday 26th May

So here it was, my last days riding I woke around 6ish and went to use the toilet and clean my teeth except I couldn't. The men's dorms were in two halves, separated by a door, I was in the first dorm, the other bloke was in the other dorm and so was the toilet and wash room, and he'd locked the door...... what was he thinking?

My only saving grace was that there wasn't any women in and their dorm was open so I went and used their facilities. Now why is it that women's dorms and toilets always, always feel like women's dorms and toilets, there's a sort of cleanliness next to godliness feel that is just a little bit creepy.

Anyway I'd asked the hostel manager about the track that went up to Minch Moor and he told me to go behind the fire station, a big building painted red and so off I went, and boy was it red, no missing the fire station in Broadmeadows.

The track meanders up initially around a small wooded area and then along an edge with a deep valley below, there are trees to the left on the other side of the valley and to the right above you as you track along the ridge. This was just enjoyable riding, the sort of thing you hope for, on top of the hills, no-one around, no noise, no traffic, early morning, riding that takes an effort but doesn't screw you and views to die for. I'm definitely going back some time, especially as one of the 7 staines is right there.

When I got to the old drovers on the top of Minch Moor it was wilderness as far as you could see, forests and moorland cut with rideable tracks.






The top picture shows the cross roads sign on the top of the moor, the other two pictures are the view from the top, it doesn't get much better does it, especially after seven hard days of riding.

As I entered the forested section after the signpost I found it even more fun with a flowing trail and a slight gradient to pick up a little speed before I came to join up with one of the 7 staines tracks after another little climb and had a fun descent all the way down into Innerleithan with a set of strange circles created in the hillside on the north, some sort of art project...



When I dropped into Innerleithan just before 9 I noticed how quiet it was, not a lot of traffic at all. I had intended to pop into the wood to the north for half a kilometre but it was those bloody black-dashes again so I just headed up the B709. The road was quiet, through a golf course and then along a river with quite a number of wild campers in the dead ground where the river meandered away from the road. After I passed Windside Hill the climb started, not a troublesome climb just a long one in open country. At one stage the rain started but it was short lived, thankfully the wind blew it past me.

There was one piece of off-road left and it was those bloody black-dashed lines again so I originally had it mind to just keep to the road all the way into Edinburgh but as I got to Windy Stack there was the path, clearly marked as the farm road went west and down so the path went west and up. Do I or don't I, should I or shouldn't I? Sod it. The path ran along a grassy hill but this was a Scottish grassy hill not a Yorkshire grassy hill so the grass was tightly bound and the ground was firm so traction was easy. The way was well marked through to the top of the hill, over the top and through to a gate.




From the top of the hill you could clearly see the water and that's when I knew Edinburgh was getting close.



Why is it that markers always stop at gates? How many times has this happened to me on the ride. The gate was at the top of a hill, the hill dropped sharply and there was what looked like a track but the clarity of the track soon disappeared. Initially I just went straight down but then I had to come back up and I travelled across the hill more, heading for some trees that were clearly marked on the map. When I got to the trees I managed to pick up the track again and make my way to the farm gate, passing a dead sheep along the way with a lamb lying beside, it looked like she'd fallen over into the brook, legs high in the air and stiff.

I don't know if I took the correct track in its entirety since the gate, most of the time I was following quad tracks but I made it to the farm gate and rode past the farm house and along the road making my way through Temple and Carrington where I started to notice more bike riders following a defined cycle route. Surprisingly this was the first mass recreation I'd seen on the whole route, I hadn't seen more than a couple of people at any one spot, the most was a group a elderly ramblers after Appltreewick over Hotton Common.

I soon caught up with the A7 and followed that to a pub on the roundabout just outside Millerhill. I nice place where, even though I was unshaven, dishevelled and probably stunk to high heaven in my bike clothes I was looked after and I had plenty of time to get stuck into some soup and a nice toasted sandwich. Almost there.

I let the food digest and set off into Edinburgh getting to the Ocean Terminal just after 12pm.

That was it, I'd done it, 350 miles, eight days.

I locked my bike up outside with a load of others and walked in and upstairs to register. As I got to the counter the lad is looking at me and curiosity gets the better of him so he asks if I'm doing something special to turn up in bike gear to a running competition so I told them what I'd done, you know it's that look of 'what a daft prick' that makes it worthwhile, it was a pleasant expression, mildly impressed (they've probably seen a lot of the two days of registration), enough to shake your hand.

I wondered around the show a bit, stalls selling energy bars and clothes and there at the end was a massage session, I had £20 on me and needed to eat energy food soonish so I could only afford the really basic session of £10 but I needed it, sort of wanted it really, I could feel my legs tightening in protest as I stood there.

I got on the table and started to talk to Benji about what I'd done so he'd know where I needed the work, the 'daft-prick' look comes out again and he starts on my calves, or at least he tried to, he then had to spend two minutes stretching my legs out because they were too tight to massage. To be honest I'd been a bit daft and I hadn't stretch once along the whole ride although I'd always taken a road route to start off.

Anyway, it was at this point that he took pity on me and offered a 'charity-deluxe' and he stretched my whole legs out for £10, I was in heaven, dribbling through that face whole in the bench. It felt good but he didn't believe I'd finish the marathon with legs like that.

I wondered around the stalls and went to the Lucozade stand where the sports scientist turned out to be a professional mountain bike rider and she talked me through what I'd probably done to my body and what I needed to do from then to the race. The advice, eat often, high carb meals, try and stay away from too much dairy as it can clog up the lungs and hydrate myself. I even got a pee chart so I could measure my urine to determine my level of hydration. One good tip for being in the pub that night, obviously avoid alcohol but drink fruit juices with soda water. Water is limited in minerals, etc., while fruit juices give you minerals, vitamins and calories.

I grabbed some energy bars and drinks and headed out of the registration and text everyone. I'd already spoken to Dawn when I stopped at the pub for lunch and she'd be on the plane by then so I rode off to the hotel.

We were staying at the Royal Terrace Hotel and how good were they. I didn't have the voucher from the Internet, Dawn did, no problem, they checked me in, can I leave my bike anyway, a full luggage room and I locked the wheels together thinking they'd spot someone who couldn't remove the lock and I was in the room.

I didn't bother showering, dirty sod that I am, I waited in the room for Dawn to text me that she'd landed and that she was getting the bus. OH, forgot to mention, Dawn flew from Manchester to Edinburgh, not drove up so we could take the bike back, no, she flew up....

Anyway, she'd brought clean clothes so I had a shower, hotel baths are always too small, and then we went and had a wander around and to find somewhere to eat (Zizis, an Italian we'd used last year). We wandered through a couple of bars, went back to the hotel, were charged a small fortune for two glasses of wine (my little treat) and went and got cosy in the room.

Tomorrow I run 26 miles, and I thought it was over.



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