With over a month having passed by since the Loch Ness 24 I thought it was an opportune time to revisit my thoughts and feelings on the whole weekend, having had plenty of time to thoroughly digest and summarise my experience.
I wanted to capture as much as possible before it vanished from the periphery of my short term memory, morphing into a sepia screened nostalgia of actual reality. As with anything associated with the podcast I want to be as open and honest as I feel I can be, sharing my true feelings with as little rose-tinting as possible (although I was at one stage literally wearing those rose-tinted glasses).
With everything I do I try to practise what I preach with positivity but before I get into my personal take on the event from my perspective I want to be real here and say that the weekend wasn’t all sunshine, roses and positivity and I won’t lie about that. Honesty is really important to me and I don’t want to be in any way fickle with my take just because of a mostly amazing weekend.
For anyone looking to take part in an event like the Loch Ness 24 either solo or in a team it’s important to go in with your eyes open to actual accounts, feelings and experiences.
So now that we have that out the way, let's get into it.
As the starting gun resonated through the dreary skies, I couldn't help but marvel at the irony that Mother Nature had crafted for us. The weather, to put it mildly, was utterly miserable, a stark contrast from the Indian summer that had graced the very same event just twelve months prior.
The rain had fallen incessantly, as if the heavens had opened their floodgates, drenching everything in its path. It had pelted my tent with relentless determination, much like the persistent raindrops that had greeted me on my doorstep the previous morning. Yet, as I stepped out into the downpour, I found myself chuckling at the absurdity of it all, while equally seething with disdain.
This deluge continued its relentless assault for a seemingly never-ending 24 to 36 hour period, only mercifully relenting in the closing hours of the event's conclusion, and I must admit, it couldn't have come a moment sooner for many, myself included. It seemed that even the weather gods were conspiring to add an extra layer of challenge to this already epic adventure.
But here I stood in the rain as the starting horn sounded, releasing the first wave of the brave souls taking on the glorious Loch Ness 24.
Prior to the starting horn sounding I had stood dressed in my finest ‘cult leader’ garb in front of the motley band known as the "Who Dropped the Dibber" team. A group I had proudly helped assemble, composed of 23 determined souls, ready to take on this much hyped event. It was a ritualistic gathering to wish them all the best with their efforts and goals over the coming 24 hours while bestowing gifts kindly sponsors had in turn bestowed upon me.
Standing before the Dibbers however I could feel the anticipation radiating from each and every one of them.
Many of the team had arrived at the campsite a day before the event, transforming the very same campground that had once been a tranquil grassy haven, into our home for the entire weekend. And now here they all stood, like gladiators ready to commence battle! It was from there we made our march to the start line and where I now reminisced about what had come before and what was now lay ahead of us.
From the outset, the Dibbers were treated like royalty. The organisers upon learning of our presence rolled out the figurative red carpet, and it felt as though the entire event now revolved around our arrival. Their warm reception, which extended not only to me but enveloped the entire team, was nothing short of extraordinary. I must, however, take a moment to acknowledge the special welcome that the Loch Ness 24 organisers had extended to me personally; it was a gesture I deeply appreciated. It was also heartwarming to see so many familiar faces after a long twelve months of preparation, and to reconnect with those I had the pleasure of meeting at previous events hosted on this very same hallowed ground.
Despite the warmth of the welcome, the capricious weather had other much colder and wetter plans, less welcoming to all. Within a few short hours of the event's commencement the course had transformed into a treacherous, mud-soaked quagmire, partnered by a frigid chill from the aforementioned downpour…though not to forget the ever present humidity as soon as you entered the forest sections. But here's the remarkable part – it all amplified the thrill of each lap.
Following the completion of my teams formative laps (Lorna and Ben), a subdivision of the greater Dibber team, I set out to undertake my own. The squelching sound of my shoes sinking into the mud, the playful splashes through standing water, and the camaraderie that as expected blossomed between all taking part, collectively confronting the challenge.
Amidst the boggy terrain, there were a handful of familiar faces from the previous year, and I couldn't help but engage in playful banter, debating whether we preferred the baking sun during the 2022 event or the torrential rain that now enveloped us. These were the laps that kicked off my event, reassuring me that I hadn’t misremembered the feelings I had felt 12 months prior.
And so, as the 2023 event unfolded, unable to replicate the cosy socialising around a campfire between laps that had defined my 2022 experience, which was now at the forefront of my thoughts, now felt like a distant memory under these torrential conditions. We, the Dibbers, resorted however to making the best of our challenging situation. Hannah, one of our members, had demonstrated remarkable foresight in advance of the weekend, packing an inflatable gazebo. This became our sanctuary, a refuge from the relentless rain, where we shared stories, hearty laughter, the occasional snack, and where our spirits for the most part remained undampened by the elements. This was a haven for all who chose to join, albeit not everyone did, with feelings that they were somehow unwelcome…wrong might I add!
There were those who went off into the dark alone, expecting to find a welcome that wasn’t there, instead of joining their fellow teammates. Others sensed a lull in the chatter that occurred as anyone new arrived at the entry to the gazebo as a sign of being unwelcome, where the reality was that the group were changing their focus onto that person(s) to welcome them in. Unfortunately with an overall team of such a size it is inevitable that there may be things misconstrued or misinterpreted.
But as the hours and laps ticked away and the darkness descended upon us, an unexpected sense of isolation began to creep in. Even surrounded by a team of 23 there were moments when a solitary feeling rolled over me, as well as over the course. An island in the midst of an unrelenting sea of rain. The relentless drumming of raindrops against our makeshift sanctuary and my tent served as a constant reminder of the unforgiving weather beyond our haven. Paradoxically, this isolation fostered an unparalleled focus and determination between the waves of self loathing and doubt.
This is perhaps where my positivity took a nose-dive and where my frustrations would unfairly be taken out on some of my co-captains. Even with apologies having long been made I’ll remain disappointed with myself for my needless outburst. But how did it come to this? Tired and soaked, I had slipped off into the night to try and get some sleep, with plans having been discussed and agreed for the coming hours, all of which required my rising in the early hour to take control of my team's dibber and run my next laps. Sleep would however escape me due to the irrepressible excitement and chatter that emitted from the Dibber ‘HQ’ gazebo. It was inevitably thinking back given my proximity to the gazebo. Having let everyone pitch their tents, ensuring everyone was set before committing to pitching my own in the space that remained.
So exhausted and frustrated I arose, later than planned, having experienced a diluted and disrupted sleep, even with earplugs in I might add. Entering the team ‘HQ’ I found an equally exhausted Lorna awaiting my return, having waited for the passed hour having believed I was on course as planned with our dibber. Not being the case the dibber was nowhere to be found, though many of the other dibbers were hanging on the previous agreed location. This is where my frustration had unfortunately boiled over as those who had inadvertently taken the wrong dibbers out returned, with my venting of said frustrations being wrongly targeted at them, where in reality I should have let running be my outlet. This dibber mixup triggered a domino effect of dibbers incorrectly being taken out by teams looking to finalise their targets, sadly tainting the completion of the event.
I could easily have left this out of my recounting of the event but I feel honesty is always the best policy and others can gain a greater insight into what can happen at events like the Loch Ness 24 from such openness and honesty. In reality it may have tainted the latter hours of the event but it doesn’t take away from the awesome camaraderie overall. If anything it may have spawned a follow up team name ‘Who Mixed Up The Dibbers’, joyfully recommended by a cheeky neighbour.
This entire event however marked a significant milestone, not simply for myself but for so many of my close compatriots. While it may not have been a continuous ultra marathon, and I certainly didn't record a Strava activity that resembled one, it was my inaugural foray into ultra running distances.
Over the course of 24 gruelling hours I managed to complete a remarkable eight laps of the course covering a total distance of 56 kilometres, which translates to an impressive 34.6 miles. While it may not be a world record, it stands as a monumental personal triumph.
And so a similar picture was painted across the team as a whole, warriors returning lap after lap, battle scarred but bravely forging on to shape their own features of immeasurable personal triumph.
The Loch Ness 24 tested our limits in ways many of the team had never before experienced, yet it failed to break any of us (bar frustrations). Personally I had no intention of letting it, there was simply too much looming horizon for me to even entertain letting it break me. I however couldn't be prouder of my own achievements and those of my extraordinary team.
So as I crossed the finish line, drenched and caked in mud, and with a heart filled to the brim with pride, I couldn't help but reflect upon the previous year's experience. It was at that moment that I remembered that the Loch Ness 24 was more than just a race. It was an unparalleled adventure, a gruelling test of endurance, and a poignant reminder that sometimes, it is the trials and tribulations we encounter along the way that etch our journeys into the annals of unforgettable experiences.
But before I finish I wish to take a moment to extend my heartfelt congratulations to all the solo athletes, teams, and competitors who faced the wrath of the elements and tested their endurance at the 24. Whether racing against the relentless clock or simply striving to reach the finish line, your unwavering dedication and indomitable spirit were truly inspirational.
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