"Overwhelming" was the word I used earlier this morning to describe the number of runners who turned out for this year's annual Haggis Bash. 35 runners in total....absolutely brilliant.
I did tell a wee white fib in saying that we only usually got about 10 or 12 people turning up....we had 22 last year, which was fantastic.....but 35!!....wow!

Beautiful morning at Wick Riverside....clear blue skies making things nice and nippy. The numbers were swollen this morning by a healthy contingent of NHH runners through from Thurso and by many ladies from the "beginners" running group in Wick. I do not intend to insult the girls by calling them "beginners", it was just good to see so many of them (and others) there doing the Haggis Bash for the first time.
I will admit to suffering some wide eyed terror as I emerged from the railway tunnel and made my way down the path behind the swing park at the Riverside. Terror as I wondered how on earth, being the sole timekeeper, I would be able to keep tabs on so many runners and ensure I counted the laps and gave accurate times.
I needn't have worried. Help was at hand.....
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| Guid Neebors |
As always with the Haggis Bash it's not about winning and losing it's about, as Alistair said, celebrating friendships through running. There was a good sense of camaraderie at the starting line today and a blanket start of 35 on the narrow Riverside path was something to behold.
The Haggis Bash is a "pursuit" type of run where runners can cover 1,2,3,4 or the maximum 5 laps...your distance being set by the front runner and how quickly he makes his/or her ( see, I'm learning Valerie ) way through the field.
I won't go into times or placings here...check the local press for those soon. Joe Spencer was crowned Great Chieftain of the Puddin' Race by coming home in first place...GFOB ( good friend of blog) a battered, bloodied and bruised Bryan Newlands picked up the neep for endeavour.
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| Our hosts for the day..... |
The event was rounded off superbly when Elizabeth and Michael Sutherland produced, from their rucksac, a bottle of Old Pulteney Liqueur
and a bottle of OP 12 year old Malt. Most of the assembled crew partook of the barley bree and shared a few stories before heading home. A fine end to a fine morning.
The last words are left to the National Bard.
Then let us toast John Barleycorn,
Each man a glass in hand;
And may his great posterity
Ne'er fail in old Scotland!