Sunday

Sunday was the day the whole county had been waiting for, the day of the All-Ireland Senior Football Final between Kerry and our beloved neighbours, Cork (basically the equivalent of the Superbowl). Confidence in the country was high, and the players had the added incentive of knowing that if they were to lose this game, they would most likely be hung, drawn and quartered on return. There was no need to worry, and after the expected 70 minutes of low-level violence that passes as sport, assisted by some comical defending from the opposition, Kerry became the first county in 17 years to successfully defend the title. For some reason, attendance of today’s morning meeting in the office was sparse, and the few people who attended had mainly come to gloat. Good Days.

My own workout on Sunday, on the other hand, went rather less well. I had planned another exchange workout, but it was clear from the outset that all was not well. My quads were as stiff and tired as they have ever been, and I did question if there was any point on even trying to run fast, but decided to give it a go anyway. The weather didn’t help; rain and gale force winds had delayed my departure until there was a lull in the downpour, but the wind remained just as bad. The Ard-na-Sidhe road does offer some shelter, but not an awful lot. I got going with the initial first mile, supposedly at MP, which once more I got completely wrong, and ran in 6:50, 25 seconds faster than planned. Will I ever learn? The return leg, supposedly at a higher effort, was hampered by the fact that it was against the wind, and when I came through in 6:52, slower than the first mile, I knew I had blown the workout. It didn’t help that the rain returned during the third mile, and on reaching the turnaround point decided to cut my losses run straight towards home. I ran another mile at the higher effort, but how accurate my estimation of that last mile was is anyone’s guess. It meant a very short cool-down, but given the choice of running in the brewing storm and sampling Niamh’s scones with home-made blackberry jam, the scones won by at least the same margin as Kerry did later that day.

I think my legs had suffered a delayed reaction from Friday’s long run, and the fact that Saturday’s run was considerably faster than a usual recovery run – even though it had felt really easy - certainly didn’t help. I still don’t worry about my fitness. Today’s recovery run was a case in point, another run at HR 128, like last Monday, but 30 seconds per mile faster. The main drawback today was the weather. While it had mostly stopped raining (I still got caught for a few minutes), it was very cold. At 9 o’clock, Niamh checked the temperatures, and it was 8C/46F. My run had been two hours earlier, when it had definitely been colder than that. In fact, I should have brought my gloves. Just a week ago I felt like melting in the sun during the race. Today my hands got numb in the cold; autumn has arrived, no doubt about it, and the weather forecast for the rest of the week is lousy.

16 Sep

7 miles, 53:31, 7:38 pace, HR 152
with 4 miles in 6:50, 6:52, 7:10, 6:52

17 Sep

9 miles, 1:17:35, HR 128

Weekly mileage: 74