Edinburgh’s Seven Hills Run … and why Idle Tom was a no-show
Edinburgh’s Seven Hill Run: A little tougher than a half-marathon, but not quite as tough as the toughest one of them all … I am of course referring to Tough Guy …
For the Seven Hills, I had done next to no training.
My brother Toby had run four miles a week beforehand - but was not in good shape.
Maguire, however: In good nick. For a 53-year-old.
Sweet: Dangerous.
And as for Idle Tom the Publisher, he had - or so he claimed - done nothing at all apart from play a bit of five-a-side football.
It was 9am on Sunday and we were all supposed to be meeting up at my place for a cup of tea, 45 minutes prior to the start of our race.
Tom hadn’t arrived.
I called his mobile.
"Tom," I said. "Where the hell are you?"
"I’m on my way to America!" he said. "Wish me luck!"
"America? America? But I thought you were supposed to be coming up to Scotland!"
"Nahh, I’m off to the US of A! See ya!"
"What are you doing in the US?"
"Trying to flog the rights to your Clavier book!"
"Ahh …" I said. Gears clunking a bit. "Well … well that’s great Tom! Good luck - and good hunting!"
The Seven Hills run is noticeable chiefly for the number of pensioners who enter - all of whom seem to absolutely cane the young ‘uns.
The Seven Hillers doesn’t just have a veteran category, but also a super-veteran and uber-veteran which must be about 80-plus.
Highlight of the race, without a doubt, was scampering up Calton Hill for the last 400 yards.
Coming down the hill, towards us - and having already completed the race about half-an-hour earlier, was a woman in her 70s who looked as if she’d just been out for her morning stroll.
"Go on boys!" she said. "You’re doing really well!"
Could I really hear her laughing as she passed us by?
Finished in about 2.45. Maguire came a bit later. He had blown up - and my brother had stopped to "tend" him.
"What do you think about our time, Mr Sweet?" I said.
"We’ve got a lot to improve on for next year -"
"Yeah! Maybe we could even do some training!"