I’m small but I’m a tough cookie, well, I like to think I am so please for the purpose of this post just humour me!
I can mow the the lawn, build a flat pack, I know a wrench from a ratchet, a slot head from a phillips and I can change the wheel on my car, you know, the things some girls think of as boy chores, I’m all over those and if I don’t know how to, I’ll give it a shot anyway. I’ve never been the girl who calls her boyfriend in tears when the car tyre blows out on the motorway* so imagine my frustration when on Saturday I found myself in a very alien situation where I had become a ….damsel in distress.
The day started of with a 10K trail race. RunMhor Hidden Glen 10K. I won’t lie, the race was bloody, awful but that was to be expected when I hadn’t trained AT ALL, unless you count my first and last experience of trail running.
However, the route was simply stunning, we were blessed with perfect running weather, the venue was Instagram heaven, the food was 5 star, among the racers and spectators were some of my ‘marathon group’ run chums AND all race finishers enjoyed a FREE beer**. With the exception of my terrible running form, it really was the best race day ever! I loved it!
After a fantastic day of post-race socialising with my run chums and eating ALL the food. I headed for home, I had travelled alone which was fine, what wasn’t fine was the 5 mile single track road (got to love rural Scotland) from our race venue Monachyle Mhor Hotel. With 500 runners, the narrow road was now the busiest it had probably been all year.
I had a few stops in passing places to allow oncoming traffic through before heading up a hill and finding the car in front reversing in to me, I had a queue of cars behind me with an additional car in the passing place on my right which was heading in the opposite direction, I had no where to go. The car in front just kept coming back, I’m guessing to allow oncoming traffic through, although I’ve no idea where they were going to go when they got through. I had no choice but to try to move in to the left and get back as much as possible, which wasn’t far as it turns out, I only moved a few inches before my car had one side sliding down a ditch.
I was stuck! SH*T! Calling the Mr and crying wasn’t even an option because I was stuck in the middle of nowhere with NO phone signal!
A lovely man in the car behind me got out to help me, he, along with few other men from the rapidly growing queue of cars behind me tried to push me out… with no joy after a few attempts they suggested I need a tow and headed off before a queue grew in the oncoming direction. My friends were slowly passing me, unable to stop or even make calls to help me. I stood there with not a clue what to do, I’ve never felt so useless or stupid!
Another nice guy got out and offered to tow me out with his van, before I knew it, four guys were assessing the situation and planning my rescue operation.
‘Can you get your towing eye out? It’ll be in the boot under your spare!’
I knew where it was, I also knew my boot lid hadn’t opened for months, I had told my ‘car mechanic Mr’ about this issue at the time but still my bootlid was stuck shut.
‘Erm, my boot doesn’t open’
He just looked at me. I’m still trying to work out if it was a look of pity or bewilderment. I cried a little on the inside.
Three attempts at towing out failed, with tow straps snapping all over the place (I knew the straps weren’t going to be strong enough but who was going to listen to the little confused woman who just drove her car into the ditch and can’t even open her boot!) my clutch was almost completely burnt out, along with my tyre and I’m sure the ditch side of my car had started to sink deeper.
The traffic was now becoming heavily congested in both directions. It was suggested I walk back to the hotel and get them to pull me out with their tractor ‘they do it all the time’ apparently.
There was no other option, so I started the mile and a half walk back to the hotel, passing all of the slow moving cars held up behind my car, fatigued legs, dried in sweaty clothes and mud to my knees. In my head, I was naked and there was a woman walking behind me ringing a bell, bellowing ‘SHAME’, ‘SHAME’, ‘SHAME’
The road wound around a Loch and after about half a mile of the walk of shame I heard a voice over the Loch screaming ‘Come back to your car’ ‘Come back to your car’
The road was clear now as I sprinted back to my car, wishing I’d ran that well in the race and wondering where the energy in my legs had even came from.
My knight in
shining armour a silver Nissan Navara was without a word of a lie a Patrick Dempsey doppelgänger. I’m not 100% sure my weak knees were entirely from fatigue *insert wink face*
Mr Dempsey hooked the front of my car onto a massive chain, offered a few words of guidance and BOOM… I was free! I had to refrain myself from jumping out and kissing Mr Dempsey as he removed the chain from my car, instead a subtle THANK YOU SO MUCH, SO SO MUCH was screamed at him whilst I fought back tears, happy tears!
Guys, I just don’t think trail running is for me!!!!
*my ex boyfriend had a tyre blow out on the motorway once, he cried whilst I changed the wheel!
**I donated my free beer to a friend, I would never drink drive… actually maybe I’d drive better if I did!!!
Thanks for reading 😊
Have a great day ❤️