It’s a clear, sunny Friday in the Cairngorms, the peaks of some of Britain’s
highest mountains are glistening with snow, and I can’t quite believe I am
walking the Lairig Ghru — the rocky mountain pass between Braemar and
Aviemore.
My three friends and I have set ourselves the task of completing a 24-mile,
eight-hour hike today and, with about four miles to go, my hip is protesting
and I have developed a blister the size of a small inflatable castle. But
we’re determined to get there — even if it is with the help of several boxes
of plasters.
The task we’ve set ourselves is the Caledonian Challenge, the 54-mile annual
organised hike down part of the West Highland Way to raise funds for the
Scottish Community Foundation.
This is not the only route to personal fitness and fulfilment around, for as
the Scottish summer finally seeps into view, there are plenty of outdoor
opportunities available, and thousands of people are taking them up in the
weeks ahead. I could have dusted off my bike and enjoyed a little light
cycling as part of this week’s nationwide Bike Week or my friends and I
might have taken a stroll through the scenic suburbs for the Great Scottish
Walk — there’s nothing too taxing in that.
I can’t help thinking that if only we’d opted to do the Edinburgh Marathon,
which is held today, our pain would be over in time for afternoon tea.
Eleven thousand people are taking part in today’s race, making it the
biggest marathon in Britain outside of London.
Like us, Kathryn, who is doing the marathon, is no gym bunny. She explains the
event’s appeal in terms that even Bridget Jones might find convincing. “I
hadn’t run for a bus in my life. I was unhealthy, I drank, I smoked, I was
turning 40 and I needed to do something,” she says, having completed her
first-ever marathon only last year. “Part of that was to do a degree in my
own time. And when I’ve been training for the marathon, I’ve found time to
think about all those essays. Just doing the training gave me confidence in
what I can achieve. That and the fact that it doesn’t cost you any money and
you don’t have to wear a leotard.”
The lack of a leotard is definitely an incentive when it comes to choosing
which sport to take up. But there’s more to it than a regard for one’s
personal aesthetics, a recognition perhaps that there comes a time in life
when you need to set yourself a serious mental or physical task — and events
like the Caledonian Challenge and the marathon can be both.
It seemed like a good idea to all of us, when, back in the autumn, we signed
up for some serious physical exercise. Admittedly it was towards the end of
the evening, at about the time when people agree to anything; but six months
on, we have stuck to our weekly training schedule and sacrificed our
everyday routines for the outdoor life.
Maybe myself and my friends have forgotten the pain of childbirth and need, in
some perverse way, to prove to ourselves how much we can still endure. Maybe
we’re all just feeling our age and needing to prove we’re not past it.
Participants in the “Cal Chall” (as it’s called by those in the know) have
been advised that they must bind their feet with zinc oxide tape, slap on
Vaseline to avoid chafing, set training targets, eat well and stay hydrated.
We have become regular visitors to Tiso, the specialist outdoor shop. By the
time we did the Lairig Ghru hike, our confidence had been bolstered by
acquisitions of Airflo rucksacks (£35), Compeed blister plasters x 2 (£10
each), Platypus water carriers (£20), breathable T-shirts x 2 (£25 each),
zip-off trousers (£30), spare laces (£2), mosquito nets (£6), five pairs of
super-durable socks each (£10 a pair) and a (useless) talking pedometer
(£12). One of the assistants talked Ailsa into buying a set of black
waterproofs (£120) that were so cool she could have worn them to a
nightclub.
During our final long training walk, a week ago, it seemed completely natural
to be marching with our walking poles through the Fife industrial towns of
Buckhaven and Methil, and not even to care when some workmen asked us where
the skiing was.
Being part of a team is, possibly, the greatest motivating factor. We can
relax into silence together, when our lungs are screaming. But, most of the
time, we talk. We review books and films, share recipes, discuss medical
histories, plan holidays and put the world to rights. We play mindless name
games, as the hours multiply. We also talk fondly about the time when we
used to go shopping for skirts and pointy shoes. We even manage to laugh, a
lot.
This same team spirit is evident in the marathon, and not just among those who
have chosen to run together with friends, encouraging each other along the
course. Edinburgh is the only UK marathon that offers competitors the chance
to run in relay. Wiser after completing the course in 5Å hours last year,
this is the option that Kathryn is pursuing today, combining with four
friends from work to break the course up into five roughly equal pieces.
“It amazed me,” she says, “but some of the people I worked with were inspired
by my efforts last year. We’ve hardly had the chance to train together since
we started practice in February, but we’re always on the phone egging each
other on.”
It’s the same for us Cal Chall devotees. Away from our walks we have become
serious party bores, incapable of talking about much else. We phone each
other whenever one of us discovers an interesting new snack. Bananas might
have enabled us to get to the summit of Scald Law in the Pentland Hills but
when Bridget started to bring white chocolate-covered organic raisins, dried
mango slices, mixed seeds, marmite rice cakes and fudge, training took on a
whole new dimension. We had hoped to lose weight but, sadly, the exertion
has only made us constantly ravenous.
If the Lairig Ghru was a watershed, showing how far we’d come in four months,
so too was our 30-mile hike along the Southern Upland Way a month ago. In
January, 30 miles would have seemed an impossibly tall order.
But we set out with relish, looking forward to 12 hours in the fresh air,
pitting ourselves against time, terrain and the improved capabilities of our
bodies. As with all our training, it was pure freedom, away from family,
work and responsibility. I never knew (or I’d forgotten) that physical
exercise could feel so good.
And the benefits are not only felt by the competitors. This year the Edinburgh
Marathon will raise £1.5m shared between more than 100 Scottish charities,
about £500 of which will have been raised by Kathryn and her quintet of
runners, for Enlighten, the epilepsy charity. Last year, 1,235 walkers in
the Caledonian Challenge raised £850,000 that was distributed among small
community groups. With more than 1,450 walkers taking part this year,
they’ll be hoping to hit a million — and we four will be part of the
enormous effort, responsible for £2,000 of fundraising.
But like the marathon women hitting the pain barrier, I don’t think the
reality of the situation will hit us until we’re high in the hills, say at
mile 31; after that, we enter the dark spectre of the unknown. So we’re
excited, nervous and listening only to constructive advice: as with
childbirth, ignorance breeds optimism.
The State Street Caledonian Challenge, June 18-19
(www.caledonianchallenge.com, 0131 524 0350). Today’s Edinburgh Marathon
(www.edinburgh-marathon.co.uk) begins at 9am in Holyrood Park, where the
event will also end. Entries for 2006 open in September
