The Murdo

The River Ayr Way Race came. And it went.

During the months running up to the race I had hummed and hawed about submitting an entry then with only minutes to go before closing I fired off an application despite knowing I wasn't fit. The River Ayr Way has a special place in my heart and I wanted to be part of it despite knowing that pinning a number on was quite pointless.

The truth is that an ongoing medical issue is preventing any training so to be honest, I'm about as bothered with racing as David Cameron is with the homeless.

Despite being unfit, and that being my excuse for going out for a ten mile trot before sacking it, I find it hard to find any real motivation for running. I stand on the start line of races with runners who appear close to hyperventilation and wonder what the fuck all the panic is about. Then I trundle off and whatever happens happens.

On Saturday, at the River Ayr Way Race, I got to the pub in Failford and drank Guinness. I got there by car after running to the second checkpoint and deciding that staying with Mrs Mac, Wee Hannah and Mason (dog) was far more preferable that continuing on. It seems that the fire in my belly may well have been extinguished.

Richard Cronin reckons that I've achieved such an elevated, Zen-like condition that I no longer have to run. In reality I simply don't give a fuck and stand more stead by interacting with people socially than by beating them in a race.

Anyway, the few lines above are really just hors d'oeuvres for another video blog post. If you wondered how one might mix alcohol, olive oil and fiery chilli sauce to achieve a creation that has been Christened with the same nomenclature as a particular Edinburgh based ultra runner.....have a gander.


The Murdo from Subversiverun on Vimeo.