G2E 2025 | Race Recap

Two years on, and I found myself toeing the line of GB Ultras’ final race of the season: 57 miles along the Forth-Clyde and Union Canals, from Glasgow to Edinburgh.

Following that fateful first Ultra in 2023, I was back for more - this time with company…

The Mission for this year’s edition of G2E was one of support for my mate Isaac’s debut in the game - running in support of a cause incredibly close to his heart.

So, armed with the huge learning curve from my previous experience of the course, we have raked up to tackle the simultaneous beauty and monotony of GBU Glasgow to Edinburgh.

The Pres

After linking up in Glasgow with a few mates, Isaac and I followed a few pints of Special T and a catch up with the short wander to the Riverside Museum for registration.

The iconic Glenlee Tall Ship greeted our arrival to Race HQ - where we quickly grabbed our race numbers before nipping back to my sister’s for a healthy injection of stodge in the form of bangers and mash.

Carbed to the tits, and heart full after a much needed catch up with Lucy D, we headed to bed ready for an early start.

***

0415 - alarm goes, coffee on the brew, bagels and ‘nanas scranned on the double. The bulletproof method for getting the body ready, mind dialled in, and (most importantly) the bowels moving.

Before long, we were amongst our fellow runners - packed in like a bunch of slightly psychopathic, highly caffeinated sardines.

A sizeable crowd had formed lining the barriers on the start-line - with a much larger field of runners compared to two years ago - which, coupled with the familiar timbre of the bagpipes, gave for a pretty electric atmosphere.

As we counted down, I locked eyes with the Big Man - who, after an insane summer of touring all over the world, had made it.

Ready for War. Pray for the Knee…

Riverside to Falkirk - 25mi

The early scenes were magical: 500-odd headlamps gently bobbing amidst a crisp Scottish morning.

Isaac and I gently weaved our way through busy pack as we entered the park, before the steady ascent up and out of Glasgow.

As the gloom of the park gave way to open air, we crossed over onto the canal path that was to be front and centre for the 52 miles to follow.

At this point, Isaac was moving really well. Having picked up a meniscus injury while on tour in the US, it was touch and go in the build up as to whether the knee was going to play ball on game day - but alas, we moved through the first 10 miles past the first two checkpoints with significant ease.

Daylight had broken by the time we hit the third checkpoint at 17 miles - greeted by the cheer crew of Isaac’s family and best mate. It was here when I introduced the ultra secret weapon: the humble potato. Boiled. Salted. Unbeatable.

Now in full daylight, we set off from the checkpoint in high spirits - with beautiful scenes on the full 360. Two years prior, the weather had been so grim that I wasn’t able to see any of the hills lining the canal path, so it was an unexpected surprise to have some views along the way.

We kept up a decent pace all the way to the Falkirk Wheel and CP4 - not only marking a significant milestone knocking on the door of the first marathon, but giving way to what was probably the best atmosphere along the entire course.

Marching up the hill, spurred on by a pretty big crowd at the checkpoint, we met up again with the Crew. Same system as before: debrief while scranning down as much as possible to stoke the boiler for the next stretch. Still no more than a fleeting mention of the knee for the Boy, moving well and taking lots of fuel on board.

Buoyed by the energy of the crowd, we cracked on to the next canal that would take us to the end of the race.

Falkirk to Linlithgow  - 36mi

I vividly remember the stretch immediately after Falkirk from before - an awesome respite from the monotony of flat, straight tarmac in the form of two tunnels. Although the cobblestones underfoot were slippery, we managed to plod our way through with no casualties - before cracking back on to the canal path.

At this point, we had ran pretty much the entire way; but with the mid-morning sun starting to beat down with unexpected force for the time of year, we started to bring pace back a notch to conserve energy as we passed the marathon mark.

Unknown territory for Isaac - having previously run a longest distance of 28 miles, we were entering new waters. Wary of my own reaction at this point in 2023, I was keen to keep him fed, salted and caffeinated so as to avoid too much of a pain cave.

I had forgotten how gruelling 57 miles of flat tarmac was on legs used to soft trails and lots of elevation - as any seasoned ultra runner will tell you, tarmac isn’t your friend. Neither is a flat profile in excess. Despite my body feeling good, we both felt the minor inclines and declines linking the path a bit fruity on the legs, which had been so used to the same step over and over.

Nonetheless, we Jeffed it into the CP beside the beautiful town of Linlithgow - which came with another hefty amount of support. Wouldn’t expect anything less from the beautiful community that is GBU!

Linlithgow to Ratho  - 49mi

The Death Stretch was upon us.

With 36 miles of hard, flat tarmac in the legs, things were about to go up a notch. The longest stretch of the race at 13 miles to the final CP at Ratho. Beginning to flag, we both stocked up on potatoes, melon and various other sweet treats in preparation for a Grind.

The Union Canal continued to deliver some scenic views along the way, further accentuated to the beautiful weather we were blessed with. Having been to Scotland every year since my sister moved up there 12 years ago, I don’t think it had ever been this nice - a stark juxtaposition to the diabolical scenes from two years ago.

Isaac started dipping in and out of the Cave, but we cracked on - focusing purely on getting to the next 3 mile mark, latching on to various groups of runners around us on the course. Most people were in a similar position, so it was a lot of lilypadding over the course of the section.

Before too long, after chunking into manageable milestones, we made it into the small, picturesque village of Ratho. As with all Ultras, the final checkpoint has an awesome vibe about it - you’ve broken the back of it, and you know full well that the finish line is within reach. Any doubts go out of the window, and prior pain caves voided to insignificance.

One final pep talk from the crew, who had spent the whole day tirelessly following us along the way, and we cracked on to the final section.

Ratho to Edinburgh  - 57mi

Out of nowhere, Isaac came back to life.

After suffering deep in the trenches for the majority of the previous section, the proximity of the finish line spurred him to break out at a very decent pace - tearing up the tarmac as if heading out for a casual morning plod.

Within 20 minutes of solid 10:00” miling, a gap in the bush to our left gifted us our first view of Arthur’s Seat - the extinct volcano that rises out of the city of Edinburgh. All the clouds of the day had cleared to make way for the most beautiful autumn afternoon, leaving the iconic mountain close to the city centre piqued against a clear blue sky.

The End was in sight.

Out of the Ashes, we cracked on the entire section at a decent pace - ebbing and flowing according to the familiar surges at that point in a race, but never stopping to walk. The canal path took us over a couple of tall bridges, rising high among the valleys below - views that I could’ve only dreamed of two years before amidst the storm.

The Steps of Doom followed 2 miles from the finish - a sadistic cherry on the cake to give the quads and joints one final beating before hopping on some light-packed trail. A welcome break from the torrent of tarmac that defines the brutal terrain of the race.

With a distinct lack of memory from my previous race, I inadvertently dangled the carrot a few times before the end: “This is it, I recognise this”....”It’s definitely this corner, I promise”....”there are the floodlights, I know this is it”.

To the understandable response of illegible grumbling from behind…

Finally, after what seemed like an age, the trail gave way to road, and road to the cinder of the track for a final 400m effort over the line. Drop the hammer, see it off, get it done.

After 10 hours and 39 minutes of honest work, he’d made it.

To Hell and Back. And Back Again!

The Afters

In the knowledge of just how much this meant to the Boy, it was an emotional one - and although I was never in any doubt, I couldn’t help but be amazed at the sheer graft to get the job cracked.

Pain gave way to sheer elation to the soundtrack of the support crew, volunteers and teams of friends and family. I felt a wave of pride being a part of something special - minimal training, maximal output, and just reward for a beautiful human whom I had been lucky enough to share such an experience with.

We even managed a quick debrief with Dan the Man in the photography tent, before heading back over to the family for debrief number 2.

An incredible day out, and one of my favourite moments in this beautiful sport that never fails to bring the greatest out of people!

The Final Word

G2E Round II delivered an absolute blinder of a day.

This time in a supporting role, the opportunity to share the trenches with a close mate meant more than most races I’ve done; beautifully enabled by the unparalleled work of the team at GBU.

Although the challenge is rough at times given the monotonous nature of conditions, I cannot recommend G2E for anyone wanting to get their first 50-miler under the belt. It may send you a little loopy, and your knees probably won’t thank you for the relentless grind of the tarmac; but all that pails into insignificance upon arrival into one of the best cities in the world.

A must for all Ultrarunners - both seasoned, or debutant.

And for those wondering, of course Isaac has already asked what the first 100 is going to be. Watch this space…