Running has let Wilson get ahead of his demons

Kerry-Liam Wilson, who earlier this month completed an annual clean sweep of Scottish masters running titles by finishing third in the Loch Ness Marathon, pauses momentarily. "My life," he says quietly. The words hang in the air as he clears his throat. "I suffer quite badly from depression but I get rid of my frustrations and anger when I'm running. Without being too dramatic about it, it gives me encouragement to get up in the morning and, if I didn't have that focus, I don't know if I'd even be here talking to you now."

The words are delivered in a matter-of-fact tone; there is no sensationalism or bombast about the 42-year-old's admission, only relief at the modicum of control he has managed to exert on an illness that has been part of his life since 1990. There were, he admits, times when he wanted to do little more than hide in bed. "And if I did get up and go to work I'd sit on the bridge outside Girvan, look at the fast-flowing river and think about jumping in," he confesses.

It was only the thought of wife Kate and sons Caine and Kalle that stopped him taking his own life during those dark days. Having never known his own father, Wilson could not countenance his own children being in a similar situation, particularly as 11-year-old Kalle has autistic tendencies, has not spoken since he was born and suffered a stroke in January of last year.

Running, he says, helps quell the anger created by such difficult circumstances, even if there are still times when he struggles to maintain his morale. Yet his introduction to the sport came almost entirely by chance. A decent cross country runner at school, he trained with a local football team for a while and started cycling and jogging once he became a father, but his recreational time was spent mainly following Aberdeen and Scotland home and away. "I would get an 8am train, get there for midday, head to the Pittodrie Bar for a pint and a plate of stovies, go to the game and get the train back down to Girvan for 10pm," he recalls. "I was single, liked a drink and had money in my pocket, but once I got to 33, I realised there was more to life and needed a change of direction."

A chance conversation with an athletics coach offered just that. With Caine having recently started running after growing frustrated at his lack of opportunities at a local football club, his father was invited to join in one evening to keep an eye on the then seven-year-old and soon found himself immersed. "I went from being told by the football coach that 'if I wasn't happy I could get my own f****** team' to athletics, where it didn't matter how good or bad you are, everyone got a number," Wilson says. "I'd enjoyed my fair share of drink so I wasn't in great shape but I stuck at it and slowly improved."

Not that slowly, as it happens. His first 10k took just 36 minutes, his second a couple of weeks later a minute-and-a half less, and suddenly he discovered a desire to go quicker and quicker; an appetite sated when he joined Ronhill Cambuslang Harriers. Years of hard work has culminated this year in his most successful season yet, winning the Scottish title in the over-35 age group at 5k, 10k and 10-mile distance as well as both the half and full marathon and the national cross country.

Last week's Loch Ness marathon completed the set, franking a dominance of the masters scene that also includes taking four of the five titles last season. "I missed the 10-mile last year because I had a marathon the same day, so it was special to do all five this year," says Wilson of a feat that has earned him a nomination for scottishathletics Masters Athlete of the Year award. "It's not quite sunk in yet but I'm actually quite disappointed with the marathon because I was on for a 2.27 before my legs died in the last three miles."

That upset will linger. Wilson's mindset is such he finds it difficult to accept any slip in standards, a consequence of his depression perhaps, but he insists he would much rather deal with those feelings than the ones he wrestled with during his darkest days. "It's just the type of character I am," he explains. "The running can help me deal with the depression but it can also trigger it in some ways.

"The worst times are when you get an injury or when you are slogging your guts out all week but running crap in a race. You wonder sometimes why you're doing it but I don't have anything academically to give my kids – I'm a production line operator at WM Grants – so at least this gives me something to show them now and will do when I'm still running round muddy fields on a wet February morning at the age of 65."