Eye-witness: Lights, action, in the performance of a lifetime

IT HAD been – by Edinburgh standards at least – a glorious day. Sunshine, no showers, just a light breeze.

But as a small army of figures clad in the never-flattering garb of black Lycra leggings and DayGlo anoraks converged on a tented village in Holyrood Park, the dark clouds began to gather. Coloured armbands were issued, protein bars scoffed, last-minute safety instructions outlined. Then, as Angus Farquhar, the man who can call Speed of Light his baby, took to the floor to address the troops, the storm broke.

Not just any storm. This was a proper, apocalyptic hammering. So, on the third of Speed of Light’s four technical rehearsals there were rivers of mud and ankle-deep, putrid bogs to contend with. Nobody can say we don’t suffer for our art. The choreography is simple: keep ten metres apart at all times (easier said than done when ascending a near-vertical slope in the driving rain). There are various arm commands to learn too. But what everyone really wants to do is get their kit on.

It’s a specially-designed suit – strips of LED lights, lots of velcro, a battery pack and a head torch – and once it’s on, we finally feel all the weeks of off-road training make sense. We are part of something very special; a once-in-a-generation thing.

For nearly two and a half hours we’re out on the hill running, up and down and along and back, splashing through puddles and occasionally skidding on to our bottoms. Our light suits are controlled remotely, so sometimes they flash, sometimes they’re different colours, sometimes they’re turned off altogether.

We only get a glimpse of what the show will look like for the audience. But what we’re part of – this incredible performance celebrating art and sport in the most spectacular place in Edinburgh – takes our breath away. Even the rain stops to watch.