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Name
of Race: Loch Ness Marathon
Location:
Inverness
Distance: 26.2
miles
Month Held:
October
Number of
Participants: 2,500
Website:
Loch Ness Marathon
Information:
The Loch
Ness Marathon is a superbly scenic run from the hills beside Loch Ness -
along the lochside and into the City. Competitors are bussed to the starting
line. Despite the long steep hill around the 18 mile mark this is certainly
a marathon with PB potential (my two best times are at Loch Ness).
The
Marathon starts on the high ground between Fort Augustus and Foyers (B862)
and drops down to the banks of Loch Ness at Foyers (B852). From there, the
route follows the loch's south eastern shore, heading north east towards
Dores on the northern tip of the loch. From Dores, the race heads directly
into the centre of Inverness (B862), turning left over the main road bridge
and left again for the last half mile along the River Ness to the finish at
Bught Park.
Note that
competitors taking more than five hours may need to be wary of traffic as
the roads are opened up again after this time.
Loch Ness Marathon Medals
2007- 2010 (Mine . . . all mine!!!!)
Loch Ness Marathon . . . hey,
don't forget your goodie bag.
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Charge of the Loch Ness Brigade by
Stuart McLean (A poem
about the Loch Ness Marathon - From No' Rabbie Burns)
Two thousand men and women too,
Prepare themselves fae battle,
Heads doon against the wind,
Like a herd o’ frozen cattle.
The signal comes it’s time tae go,
There’s nowt else can be done,
For those that arnae fit enough,
The torture’s soon to come.
Frae Foyers’ hill they do descend,
All eyes upon the loch,
The leader wae themsel’ do battle,
Others fight against the clock.
A line, a mile, stretches ower the route,
Back markers start tae falter,
The leading group fight it oot,
For gold upon the alter.
At eighteen mile the climb begins,
The pace begins tae slow,
The muscles ache, the will does break,
But ye force yersel’ tae go.
Into the toon, ye’ll finish soon,
The streets are lined wae smiles,
Applause, a wave, a comic says,
‘Christ, it’s only twenty-six miles’.
Across the line ye drag yersel’,
You even shed a tear,
You tell yersel’ o’ ne’er again,
At least not ‘til next year.
(Copyright Stuart McLean)
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