What: The Dirty Dozen, Traquair, Borders
When: July 5, as part of an adventure festival weekend called the Dirty Weekend.
In a nutshell: A 12k trail run through some of Scotland’s most beautiful, rolling countryside.
Results:
- 1st male Darin Dougal, Moorfoot Runners, 49mins 47 secs
- 1st female, Lucy Breakwell, Team Muddy Rascals, 54mins 20secs
Link: See www.dirtyweekendadventure.com
The report: Lining up at the start of this inaugural off-road race, the nervous whispers among runners were “madcap”, “bound to be bonkers” and “no idea how to pace this one”. Such is the off-the-wall reputation of adventure race organisers, Detail Events, no-one could know exactly what was to come in the following one to two hours. I decided to head off at a fast pace, taking the view that the downhill stretch at the start might be the easiest section and I didn’t want to waste this with a warm-up jog. But within 500m my cunning plan was scuppered when we were forced to leap a succession of fences. Worried about misjudging each hurdle at speed I slowed to a refined old lady clamber over each wooden obstacle.
Heading next along deeply rutted grassy track on the banks of the River Tweed, it was difficult to move any faster than arthritic sheep. I’ve become a bit of a pussy-footed road runner over the last year, and my feet and ankles felt unnaturally awkward on the uneven terrain. I cursed as too many other runners passed me with gazelle-like grace. Still, the next section of the race suited me better. This time on stony but solid forest tracks, we all headed up and up. And up. And still more up. While I’d slowed to a feeble jog it was a better pace than others who decided just to walk.
Then, just when I thought the incline could go no further, the route took a dramatic turn up the steepest ever firebreak trail. Still trying to keep up a steady jog I batted away spiky fir tree branches and tried my hardest not to slip on the wet, muddy ground. I was congratulating myself for choosing my Inov-8 Mudrocks on this section as many runners slipped backwards.
Another 50 metres and no-one was moving faster than a determined walking tramp. My thighs were screaming and I could hear my gasping breath but the odd sarcastic comment form other participants meant the atmosphere remained light(ish).
Finally reaching the top of the firebreak from hell I turned with some relief back on to a forest track. But my legs weren’t working properly. If you imagine a new-born giraffe then you’ll have some idea of the feeling. Thankfully, we were about to head downhill.
And down and down we went. All the time I was imagining the organisers laughing in glee as they set out to find another stinking uphill to stop us in our tracks. But thankfully this never materialised.
The route for the next 20 minutes or so was on undulating track through picturesque forestry. By this time, the competitors were well spaced out. I could still see some of the gazelles in the distance in front but try as I might my legs wouldn’t go any faster.
I had reached that point of the race when forced plodding – and gritted teeth – is as good as it’ll get. There were no distance markers and with 50 minutes on the clock I began to wonder if the organisers had been a bit over-generous with their measurements.
By now I’d reached a short section of road, which should have brought some light relief. Sadly, this is where Mudrocks do you no favours. There’s no give or bounce, just the rock-hard tarmac to deal with.
So it was with relief that the excellent waymarkers directed us back off-road. Except, just round the corner, we met the energy-zapping banks of the Tweed again – as well as a head wind. This time, I found every single step was a physical and mental struggle.
I think that if I hadn’t noticed a female runner closing the gap behind me I might have slowed to a walk. But I’d come too far and worked too hard to be defeated. And you know how it is: a little bit of competition can work wonders on your ability to push yourself on.
So despite running on legs made of lead in the last 500 metres I managed an exuberant sprint for the finish line. It wasn’t nearly as fast as the first 500 metres of the race but it was enough to clinch a position of 22nd overall and 5th lady.
The event wasn’t nearly as bonkers as I’d imagined but it still amounted to one of the most testing ¬off-road races I’ve run. Definitely one to repeat next year.