The moment I first heard about the West Highland Way Race, I was instantly captivated. Year after year, I diligently followed the race updates on social media, studying the times, familiarising myself with the route, and gradually deepening my knowledge about this extraordinary event.
One particular aspect that fascinated me was the crystal goblet awarded to every finisher. The appeal of possessing my own crystal goblet attracted me greatly. I marvelled at the stories of individuals who had completed the race an astonishing 17 times, racking up an impressive collection of 17 gleaming goblets. It was a testament to their remarkable dedication and perseverance.
In 2022, I embarked on a personal challenge by completing the West Highland Way route as an unsupported run, setting a new Fastest Known Time of 17 hours and 57 minutes. This achievement propelled me forward, fueling a burning desire to participate in the official race. Therefore, I confidently declare that I will clearly enter the 2024 edition and wholeheartedly dedicate myself to its preparation and execution.
Running the West Highland Way Race in 2023 served as a true test of my physical capabilities, considering the recent establishment of an unsupported record on the difficult Cape Wrath Trail just nine weeks prior. I must admit, I was consumed by nervousness before the race commenced. My aim was to complete it with an impressive time, while also assessing how my body would respond to the demanding distance once again. Lingering aches and pains from the Cape Wrath Trail weighed heavily on my mind, reminding me of the toll that running 370 kilometres with 14,000 metres of elevation did to me. It nearly broke me, but I summoned my resilience and pressed on. And now, here I stand, at the starting line of the West Highland Way Race 2023.
Regrettably, my training for this race was not as thorough as I would have liked. While I possessed the physical strength and speed required, I harboured doubts about the endurance of my mental resilience.
My support team consisted of my brother-in-laws, Ryan and Shaun MacDonalds. While Ryan had previously supported me during the Great Glen Way Fastest Known Time in 2022, Shaun had never experienced being a part of a race or witnessed me fresh after completing one. Everything was meticulously organised, and the instructions were straightforward. I had two bottles of water filled with energy powder and morning fuel, along with two boxes—one filled with food and the other containing essential items and any additional gear I might require. These provisions would be available to me at each checkpoint along the way.
Although I have always enjoyed the solitude of solo running, this time I had the company of a support crew. However, I still wanted to maintain a sense of independence, so I decided to venture my own way for about 50% of the race. My first checkpoint with the boys was scheduled at Auchtertyre Farm, just before reaching Tyndrum, which marked 82 kilometres into the race. The subsequent meeting points were Bridge of Orchy, Glencoe Mountain Resort, Kinlochleven, and, as a last-minute decision, Lundavra. While I was at the Kinlochleven checkpoint, I contemplated having the boys at Lundavra, just in case unforeseen circumstances arose. It’s a long journey, and one can never predict what may happen along the way.
Upon our arrival in Milngavie, it was already past 10:00 PM, and we immediately made our way to the registration area. I collected my tracker, received a goodie bag, and underwent the mandatory weigh-in. It was a pleasant experience meeting numerous individuals, including the legendary Martin Stone, who left quite an impression on me. Knowing there was no chance for me to take a quick nap, I braced myself for the upcoming race.
With the race scheduled to commence at 1:00 PM, Shaun and Ryan decided to grab a Chinese takeout. The aroma wafting from their food tickled my senses, making my stomach growl. Despite the tempting smell, I resisted the temptation and refrained from indulging. Nevertheless, the scent remained incredibly enticing.
The atmosphere surrounding us was charged with a mix of excitement and tension. People were bustling around, some laughing and rejoicing, yet an underlying aura of pre-race stress was undeniable. Personally, I felt relatively calm, as I had already had my internal conversations about my own body. All I desired was to start moving and find my rhythm.
At 12:40 AM, the race briefing commenced near the yellow arch in front of the tunnel at Milngavie Train Station. The participants gathered, capturing numerous photos and videos to celebrate the moment. Amidst the crowd, I managed to locate Scott Brown, another remarkable individual and a dear friend. We took a quick selfie before he went off to see his athletes. With just a few minutes remaining before the race began, I focused my mind and found solace in calmness. The moment we had all been waiting for was about to unfold any minute now.
And so, we embarked on our journey, dashing through the tunnel and bounding up the stairs, following the path forged by the cheering spectators, leading us to the official start of the West Highland Way Route at the obelisk. I had a specific pace in mind and was determined to maintain an easy rhythm at all costs. Despite the temptation to push myself from the very beginning, I resisted the urge and held back. Instead, I found a group of runners who were maintaining a similar pace and positioned myself behind them. Though I had the ability to overtake and surge ahead, I consciously chose not to.
Strangely, my stomach was giving me trouble right from the start. A persistent ache accompanied me for nearly two hours into the race. Although the pace I was maintaining felt comfortable, I knew I had the potential to go faster and find greater ease. Unfortunately, the exertion required felt more arduous than ever before. I couldn’t pinpoint the exact cause of this struggle; perhaps it was a combination of pre-race stress I didn’t know about, a troublesome stomach, fatigue from lack of sleep, or the lingering exhaustion from completing the Cape Wrath Trail just nine weeks earlier. Regardless, those factors ceased to matter in the present moment. I had no choice but to summon my inner strength and confront the challenges head-on. If I fail to do so, the race would consume me entirely.
Running through the night brought me immense joy. I relished the darkness, fixating on the circle of light illuminating the ground ahead. Sometimes, it’s liberating not to see the path clearly and simply move forward at a steady pace. The miles gradually accumulated, adding to the tally of my progress.
Until I reached mile 30, my mind played tricks on me. I had to battle both physically and mentally. My brain insisted that I should cease this endeavour, claiming that I hadn’t fully recovered from the Cape Wrath Trail and would never reach the finish line. Fortunately, I am a fighter, adept at guiding myself through these challenging moments. The thought of my wife and children eagerly awaiting me at the finish, as well as Shaun and Ryan’s unwavering support at Auchtertyre Farm, motivated me to push on. They had dedicated an entire day to support me, and I couldn’t let them down. I wanted to prove to everyone that I am continually improving and surpassing my limits. The negative thoughts gradually left my mind. Throughout the race, I experienced both moments of losing and gaining positions, a fair exchange in the grand scheme of things.
The temperature remained high from the very start of the race, and even the occasional gentle showers failed to cool down the humid atmosphere. There was a distinct lack of wind. Despite these conditions, I felt invigorated when I reached Conic Hill. Finally, a chance to excel in a good climb. Scaling a mountain is my favourite aspect of running. Pushing myself to the limit, enduring the pain, and reaching the summit fills me with a sense of accomplishment. Although the West Highland Way Race may not be characterised by extreme altitudes, it still involves a considerable amount of climbing throughout its entirety. In fact, the course boasts a total elevation gain of over 3600 metres
Upon reaching Balmaha, I was desperately in need of water. Quickly, I made my way to the checkpoint, where I noticed everyone sporting medgie hoodies. Little did I know that this was an ominous sign of what lay ahead. While waiting for the marshals to fill my water bottles, I found myself swarmed by thousands of tiny medgie flies. They clung to my sweaty body, delivering painful bites. However, one silver lining emerged from this ordeal: the relentless assault of these pests motivated me to leave the checkpoint swiftly. The little beasts propelled me forward.
Running from Balmaha to Inversnaid I maintained a steady pace, but the heat was taking its toll. I made sure to drink plenty of water. Unfortunately, many of the streams flowing from the mountains were dry, posing a slight challenge at certain points. I had to ration my water supply, ensuring I had enough to reach the next checkpoint. It would have been ideal to stumble upon a running stream where I could replenish my bottles. Additionally, during this section, I encountered something unprecedented. On multiple occasions, I heard people screaming in agony ahead and behind me. I was bewildered by the commotion, as I hadn’t witnessed any injuries on the trail. Soon enough, I found myself experiencing the same torment. I ran through clouds of bloodthirsty medgies. The humidity was so intense that these tiny creatures were attaching themselves to my sweaty skin, my arms, face, neck, and legs. I could feel them landing on my skin, stubbornly staying put, and within seconds, they would begin biting. Every few minutes, I had to scrape them off my arms, legs, and face while attempting to maintain my momentum. Upon reaching Inversnaid checkpoint, I consumed the remaining water in my flasks and promptly refilled them. I noticed one runner withdrawing from the race, standing by the side with the marshals, appearing rather disheartened. Although I lost a few positions at this checkpoint, it was crucial for me to keep pressing forward. My family was counting on me! As for my current position, I remained uncertain, but I hoped to be around 10th place.
The stretch from Inversnaid to Beinglas breathed new life into my run—I felt a surge of enthusiasm. The trail underwent a remarkable transformation, growing more intricate with an abundance of boulders and roots that demanded careful, fast footwork to maintain a respectable pace. To my delight, water sources became more plentiful, bringing a smile to my face and revitalising my spirits. It wasn’t long before I began surpassing other runners that slowed down.
The stretch from Beinglas to Auchtertyre Farm went smoothly, and I found a good rhythm. The runners I had overtaken in the previous section began to catch up with me, as this part of the route was more runnable. Despite their proximity, I resisted the urge to push too hard. We were only halfway through the race, and there was still a long way to go. Somewhere along this stretch, Stuart Ross overtook me, ultimately finishing 15 minutes ahead. I had hoped to catch up with him later on. I also had the pleasure of running and chatting with Matthew Bird for a while before he moved ahead. Arriving at Auchtertyre Farm, my first crewed checkpoint, was a boost for my morale. Shaun and Ryan, my support crew, were waiting for me with all the necessary supplies. Seeing them lifted my spirits and energised me. As I made my way to Tyndrum, I encountered a fellow runner who was clearly struggling. He revealed that he had broken a toe early in the race, and I couldn’t help but think he was brave to continue running with such an injury for almost 80 kilometres. I overtook him, and although he stayed behind for a while, he eventually disappeared from sight. At the bustling A82 road crossing in Tyndrum, I encountered Scott and Kev Brown, offering their cheers of support to everyone.
From Tyndrum to Bridge of Orchy, I maintained a strong pace. Stuart Ross remained visible ahead, while Mat was out of sight. I reassured myself that it was fine and kept moving forward. The sun beat down relentlessly, and I regretted not having my safari DIY hat from Auchtertyre Farm. However, I quickly grabbed it upon reaching Bridge of Orchy, refilled my supplies, and continued without even a minute for a pit stop. Shaun and Ryan awaited me at the Train Station, a few hundred metres before the checkpoint. I swiftly passed through the checkpoint and noticed Scott sitting in a chair, cooling down with wet towels. I pressed on, pushing through the climb towards ‘Jelly Baby Hill’, where Mike Raffan generously provided runners with jelly babies. He truly is an exceptional individual, known for his remarkable running feats like the Bridge 200 or Tunnel 200.
As I continued my run, I found the strength to overtake another runner during the climb, which fueled my motivation to push harder. In the distance, I spotted Matt. However, when I reached the base of the hill, I saw him sitting on the side of the trail with supporters and marshals. He was dealing with a persistent nosebleed that seemed uncontrollable. Given the intense heat and challenging conditions, I assumed his race was over. Determined to keep going, I pressed on and began the arduous climb over Rannoch Moor. Unfortunately, my energy levels were depleted, and my legs struggled to cooperate. It was a gruelling battle as I made my way to Glencoe Mountain Resort. The scorching heat and sheer exhaustion weighed heavily on me, and I longed to complete this section. Unexpectedly, I was once again caught up by Matt. We stuck together for the final climb to Glencoe Mountain Resort and continued side by side until we reached the checkpoint.
Upon reaching Glencoe Mountain Resort, Ryan offered me a chair to rest on. Initially, I resisted and wanted to keep moving. However, I eventually relented and allowed him to bring the chair. I sat down for a brief two minutes, refilled my supplies, and then swiftly resumed my journey. Scott was still ahead of me, and I could sense Matt’s presence behind. I knew I had to continue working hard in this section. Glencoe was the point where I decided to unleash everything I had left within me. I began with a steady walk and gradually picked up the pace, pushing myself to go faster. As I ascended to higher ground, I frequently glanced back and noticed Matt closing in. I was determined not to let anyone pass me at this stage. I had to keep pushing. Upon reaching the base of the Devil’s Staircase, I spotted Matt’s support team waiting for him. I knew he wasn’t far behind. I started the challenging climb and noticed a group of individuals ahead of me. I was determined to catch up to them, hoping they might be tired runners I could overtake. I remained uncertain about my position in the race. Shaun and Ryan kept reassuring me, repeatedly expressing how well I was doing. Their words, especially the emphasis on “really really good,” brought a smile to my face. It fueled my motivation, and I pushed even harder. Halfway up the Devil’s Staircase, I noticed Matt beginning his ascent. I intensified my efforts, eager to maintain my lead. Reaching the summit of the Devil’s Staircase, I caught up with the group I had seen earlier. Although they were hikers heading to Kinlochleven rather than West Highland Way racers, their presence provided me with additional motivation to continue pushing myself to the limit.
The descent to Kinlochleven had me filled with concern. It was a long, technical, and incredibly steep section of the West Highland Way. Last year, during my unsupported Fastest Known Time attempt on this route, I struggled immensely on this part. I became the subject of mockery from some hikers who mimicked my cautious walk downhill. Yes, I had to walk downhill, unable to run due to the excruciating pain. I vividly remember sprinting away, tears welling up in my eyes, only to stop around the corner to compose myself. During that descent, I momentarily lost focus and took a tumble on the rocky terrain, leaving a portion of my left kneecap on one of the rocks near Kinlochleven. I was terrified, fearing that I had just ended my race. I paused to assess the damage to my left knee. Thankfully, the pain subsided, and apart from the bleeding, I was fine. I removed my safari hat and used its cloth to stem the blood flow. The intense heat helped coagulate the blood, and after a few minutes, the bleeding stopped. Finally, I arrived at Kinlochleven. As I ran past the climbing centre, I heard someone shouting at me. I continued over the bridge and noticed Helen and Davy Duncan, along with Micheal Connely, standing at the junction, waving and cheering me on. Seeing their support was a tremendous boost. After navigating a few turns, I reached the Kinlochleven checkpoint. Shaun and Ryan were waiting outside. I swiftly entered, registered my time, and promptly exited. The boys provided me with a refreshingly cold, icy wet towel to cool my head, making everything feel so much better. Once again, I replenished my food supplies, grabbed water, and requested that Ryan and Shaun meet me at the Lundavra checkpoint, just in case I needed anything. It had been a while since I had seen Matt. He was somewhere behind me, and I knew that if I hesitated, he would catch up.
Leaving the checkpoint behind, I gradually picked up speed until I reached the steep climb out of Kinlochleven. It was there that I replenished myself with plenty of food and water, feeling satisfied and ready to tackle the path ahead. I alternated between running on flat sections, running downhill, and running some uphills. Unfortunately, the steepest parts of the route were too challenging to run, so I resorted to power hiking. My run transformed into a shuffle, but I maintained a steady pace, steadily making progress toward the finish line. Periodically, I would pause on higher ground and scan the distance for any sign of Matt. Suddenly, I spotted him, and it reignited my determination to push even harder. I was not going to let go of this position, whatever it may be at this moment! However, an unexpected encounter interrupted my focus. I came across a man lying on the side of the trail in the grass. I called out to him, asking if he was alright. He assured me he was just resting and that he was fine. He slowly got up and resumed moving in the direction of the finish line. I felt relieved that he was okay, albeit exhausted. Finally, I arrived at the Lundavra checkpoint, where I was asked if I had seen Kyle. I responded that he must have been the guy I recently overtook. I grabbed a juicy slice of watermelon, hydrated with some water, and refreshed myself with a cool, wet towel. I didn’t sit down, spending only about a minute at the checkpoint before continuing on to face the last three climbs before descending to Glen Nevis.
As I caught sight of Ben Nevis and the familiar forests, a wave of relief washed over me. Despite the intense pain in my legs, I maintained a steady pace, determined to stay ahead of Matt and Kyle. I pushed myself, gaining speed with every step, knowing that the finish line was just three miles away.
Leaving the forestry tracks behind, I hit the pavement and ran towards Nevis Center. The feeling was indescribable. I couldn’t believe how well everything had gone. Here I was, in Fort William, successfully completing the West Highland Way Race in a respectable time. The sight of my entire family waiting for me filled me with joy. My wife Ashley, along with Maiya (12) and Freya (4), my mom Marzena and sister Julia, Shaun and Ryan, Karen and Allan, Margaret Rose, and all the others who may not have been familiar faces, but who knew me and cheered me on—what an incredible community of support.
But what place did I finish in? When I received the printout of my checkpoints, finish time, and position, I couldn’t believe my eyes. I had secured fourth place overall and third in my age group. It was truly epic, a result I had never expected. I battled my own mind and pushed through to achieve that remarkable fourth-place finish.
I was sore, but also filled with happiness. My body was covered in bites from medgies and horseflies, remnants of the early morning encounter at Loch Lomond. While I didn’t make it onto the podium, I came incredibly close, just 15 minutes behind the third-place finisher, Stuart Ross. Although the official prize giving was scheduled for the next day, I had to return home to Mallaig. So, I politely requested if I could receive my West Highland Way Goblet that day. Happily, they agreed, and I was presented with the prestigious West Highland Way Finishers Goblet.
Now, it proudly sits in the centre of our mantelpiece, above the fireplace in our home—a symbol of my achievement. I want to express my gratitude to Ashley for taking care of our children while I was away, my amazing support team Shaun and Ryan who tirelessly ensured my safety and well-being, the sponsors (Dynafit, Teko Socks, Mountain Fuel Sports Nutrition, Resilient Nutrition), my entire family for their unwavering belief in me and their presence at the finish line, and, of course, to all the organisers and marshals of the West Highland Way Race. Your incredible dedication and resilience in the face of medgie-infested checkpoints is truly commendable. I can’t comprehend how you all managed to survive those conditions, as I sprinted away from them as fast as I could.
My Mountain Lab 