The alarm went off at 4am, but I was already up and running - for my porridge at least. As I crept downstairs so as not to wake anyone, suddenly all hell broke loose. My daughter's rescue dog, Lopen was up and running too, and proceeded to wake the whole house up with his loud barking. As Laura struggled to deal with him, I just got on with making porridge and getting my sh*t together.
So far so good as I left the house by half past. Shawlands was surprisingly busy as I made my way across to the start, with several walks of shame going on, and the first of many encounters with a taxi driver who doesnt realise that the Highway Code now states that a pedestrian can do wtf they want and drivers just have to deal with it......
455 and I was up at the Queens Park flagpole and eager for the off. Surprised and delighted to be joined by Iain and Rodrigo. A bit of a delay whilst I footled about trying to get the Garmin watch that my son Robert had lent me to power up. Just as well as at 501 the mighty Tom (Callan) shot up out of the woods to join us. 502 and I was off on the great adventure, with Tom and Rodrigo to chum me whilst Iain wisely headed back to bed.
Rodrigo and Tom with me at the start
Down through the bushes without incident and out onto Langside Road, giving a wave to the Statue of Liberty as we passed, we were soon through Govanhill Park and the first checkpoint. Then into the Gorbals orchard with my history lecture in full flow, and on to Glasgow Green. Disaster strikes! There's a big ugly fence blocking my way to the Nelson Monument so I have to bite my tongue and miss that checkpoint out. As I try to exit the park I encounter another fence and despite the best efforts of Tom "The Hulk" to move it outta ma way, I am forced to detour around it and eventually I'm back on my route and St Andrews in the Square and the Album Pathway are checked off. At this stage, Tom's shrunk back to normal size and decides he needs his sleep, so its left to Rod to take me on past the Ramshorn Kirk and up to John Knox, lording it over the Necropolis. Job done, he heads back to bed too.
At the Ramshorn Kirk
Back on my lonesome - at least I'll have a receptive audience for my history lesson - I wend my way through the Strathclyde Yuni campus and up past Steelhenge and the lovely gardens to pass through the Rottenrow arches. Onwards through the city centre, and as I pass under the watchful gaze of Donald Dewar (maybe he cant see me without his specs?) I'm curious to see a large group of masked Chinese folk, looking like they're camped outside the shop waiting for the sales to start. Up Garnethill and past the lovely synagogue, then round the side of Park Circus and up through the park to the statue of The Earl Roberts, victor of Kandahar, butcher of the Boers and inventor of - wait for it - concentration camps. Anyway, with no one to listen, I left him lording it whilst I walked on over the checkpointless Hillhead and up to Notre Dame. Just as I turned up to touch the school gates, a man walked in front of me and did the exact same thing.
"Are you as bonkers as me then?" I asked. He scurried off without replying, obviously thinking who is this lunatic?
Through the posh streets of Dowanhill and then jinking through the grounds of Cleveden School, I found myself crossing the canal at the "Butney" (so called because it was from here that convicts were sent to Botany Bay!) and pausing for a selfie with my twin:
Duncruin street seemed even steeper than normal as if that were possible, and then on over the hill. My heart started to beat a little faster as I approached the spooky Halloween Pend. Just before I dived into the darkness I glanced at the watch - bang on schedule at 0730. The Pend itself wasnt too bad, maybe the rats were sleeping off the Saturday night fever!
The dog leg up to Lambhill and back passes quickly, then on the new route through the rewilded golf course I'd reccied last week and up to Ruchill's flagpole. On past the Firhill ground, along and across the canal and up to the rather nondescript Cowlairs checkpoint. Then its up through the gravestones to the oval in Sighthill cemetery, and down to cross the already busy Springburn road where several drivers honked their horns. How kind of them to show their support eh?! I thanked them with a brief one finger wave and suddenly I was in the Garden of Eden and peching (?) my way up to the Roystonhill spire. Job done it was away downhill and back to the Necropolis. Still bang on schedule, It was a great boost to see Christine for the first time - having somehow avoided being eaten by the dog. And then a lovely surprise to see not so newlyweds Graham and Clara - the latter on her bike and wisely wearing a hard hat - and also Peter, who somehow managed to crash the party without an invite!
After a few minutes into the Beast in the East section, Clara had to dive off for kickboxing or another of those deadly sports she now prefers to running. But not to worry, she was soon replaced by Steph, waiting patiently at Alexandra Park. On and over Hagill and things hotted up when Shettleston Malky joined us. It was good to have his muscle on the mean streets of Tollcross! As we ambled up to the summit of the park, Bob P and his dog put in a guest appearance - spot the photobomber ha ha:
Bob declined to join us - something about a 10k and a hangover - and so we went on through the heart of Shettleston. At this point John and Viv were apparently driving around like lunatics missing us at several points. Eventually they caught up and at this point Peter bid us farewell - I dont think the two events were linked. The long drag up to the brutalist shrine that is Cranhill water tower ensued, at which point Malky had to dive into the lighthouse garden to ahem water some flowers, so we dumped him x
On through Ruchazie, where I ran a few red lights, and over the dreaded Wall of Death into Lethamhill. Minus John and Viv who wimped out - unlike wonderwoman Steph. Over to Riddrie cemetery, where Christine was waiting yet again and rattling her bucket though given the location that was a tad optimistic. Having done her superhero bit, Steph said goodbye, leaving John and Viv to admire my road crossing skills for far too long. Another long drag up to Springburn Park, where the sight of Christine and her rattling bucket led me to my only nav error of the whole day.
"John, you were born here, dont you know the right way?"
"I dont know where the feck you want to go, do I FatMalky!"
Cursing and swearing, I eventually got us back on track, much to John and Viv's relief. On again to repeat Sighthill and the Spire and the same bleeding road crossings (more honking drivers this time, love ya!). When we got to John Knox, they wisely decided to quit before I killed 'em. Christine still kept the faith - but I should point out that the bank account is in my name. Delighted to get some support from Niall and his enormous bike at this point, though he did insist on flying his Big W flag, which was annoying because it distracted the gullible tourists from shoving their cash into Christine's bucket.
Back on my own now. Buoyed up by the fact that I was over halfway now, and still just a few minutes behind schedule. The Ladywell, Tree that Never Grew, and Doulton fountain passed in quick succession, then the long straight drag out to Malls Mire. Then as I was traversing the abandoned terraces of Cathkin Park, it was great to see Rodrigo again, who chummed me onwards and upwards to reach Queens Park flagpole for the 2nd of 4 times. I was about 15minutes behind schedule now and for the first time I felt tired. But it was such a boost to see so many folk there. Laura and Will and the still lovely Lopen were there together with Robert. Iain was back, and he'd brought Ross and John C as well, not forgetting the lovely Laurie on her bike. There was Luis and his whole family. Matt had made the long journey across and had brought his two young sons with him. Just as well he'd also brought the all-terrain buggy as we careered off the hill on one of Malky's "straight-line" routes! Heroically the Mattmobile managed to keep up all along the deadly Deanston drive but by the time we got to Shawlands high street the boys had had a better offer - well it was hardly difficult to find! Luis, having fled his family ties, kept with us as far as the oasis of Christine's van, where he had to leave me, as did Laurieonherbike.
Major running repairs followed. Copious compeed on my blistered heel, then a change of tshirt into my Beatson special, a surgical removal from my tights to be replaced with shorts and finally I ditched the £20 decathlon shoes for my expensive new puke green Asics.
And we go again! Iain, Ross and John are my tres amigos as we ascend the mighty Hillpark and then up and over the not so Merrylee and up through the dead (cemetery!) to Linn Park. Robert chums me across the park, and picking up Laura and Will and a rather wet Lopen at the halfpenny bridge they stay with me past the Trig to the edge of the park, whereupon the dog decides that chasing squirrels and deer is much more fun.
Iain, John and Ross bear with me on another "straightliner" through the edge of Netherton Braes and then we take time to do the Mobot:
On and up through the delightful Big Wood brings us to Cathkin Braes and the highest point on the Tour, where Myrtle appears out of the bushes (I dont ask) to join us and lower the average age somewhat.
What with all the pitstops and tyre changes and all the idle chitchat, I'm almost 40 minutes behind now, but still feeling quite strong though my old dinosaur is coming back, yes you guessed it, the megasaurars lives ! Its downhill all the way now, well at least as far as Castlemilk, where Liam makes his comeback to a Malky session, guiding us through his 'hood - Kings Park - and then we are six all the way back past Court Knowe, Cathcart Castle and Langside Hill to visit that bolly Queens Flagpole for the 3rd time. Laura is back again - what an absolute star - even dragging four other friends out to cheer me on. Robert is back, and this time its personal, he's got his running shoes on. And there is one of Shettleston's finest, the legendary Dermot McMc, back in my hour (or four) of need. On down through the Valley of Death and back through Shawlands for another van stop with the indefatigable Christine. More injection of youth comes in the form of Alex who comes with us on the long road section to Bellahouston Park.
He gets the money shot and then he's off, leaving Robert and Dermot on the anchor leg with their flagging charge. We're about 65 minutes down now but how could I get downhearted in such company? Onwards through Crookston wood......
Then over the mound of Crookston Castle and up to the Parklands Oval, where me and my boy have an unprecedented moment of fatherson bonding xx
Bull wood follows, and it never disappoints, living up to its billing as the most beautiful section of the Tour. We eventually escape the woods, only to confront the Hurlet Alien:
After that excitement, its the long drag down into Silverburn - I nearly die trying to get my legover - wait for it - the fence just afterwards, and then its a bit of bracken bashing in the dusk as we fight our way up to Cowglen trig. I suddenly have a moment, when I finally believe that I'm going to complete my Challenge.
The euphoria is short lived when I find that even though its nearly dark, there are still bloody golfers out! What do they think this is, a golf course?? FFS! There's no stopping me now! I make it across Pollok golf course too. Just the dreaded Patsy tree to find now. I've been unable to locate it before in broad daylight - despite the fact that I chose it as a checkpoint - and now its pitch dark. My saviour comes in the shape of my shoes, which are brighter than any torch, and it is they that guide me straight up to Patsy, and arguably the best photo-op of the day:
Tom appears out of the dark forest (again, I dont ask) and somehow, I navigate us out of Pollok wood and back onto the final straight. Like two tugs escorting a supertanker into port, Ross and Alex reappear, and help the dynamic duo of Robert and Dermot to take me back to the gates of Queens Park. They give me the honour of leading back up through Death Valley - probably because they dont know the way anyway - and back to the Pole for the very last time. It is finally over! Its the dead of night but still they have come. There's newlywedded Craig and Victoria come to chum me at the last, There's Iain and Tom, there at 5am and back at 1033pm - yes it took me all of 17hours 31minutes in the end. There's the living legend that is Dermot McMc (Gonigle). There's JohnC and Laurie, complete with bubbly and flowers ! Sorry if I've missed anyone, but the final thanks must go to my lovely son Robert and my longsuffering and yet constant companion and tower of strength, Yes that's you Christine xxxx
Afterword:
93.89km, 1475m of climb, done in 17hours,31 mins and 43 seconds.
2 pairs of shoes, 2 tshirts. One pee, no sh*ts !
Thanks again to all you lovely supporters on the day, I mean it when I say I would not have done it without yous.
Over £2650 raised for the wonderful Beatson Cancer Charity, from 117 supporters, I love you all.
See my route on Strava, any many photos on Flickr.
Malcolm notsofatmalky
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