Blowing Off The Cobwebs

There is no doubt about it, 2011 has been a terrific year for me, running-wise. I put all my eggs into one basket at the start, deciding that the sub-3 marathon would be the only goal worth pursuing, and Thank Goodness that came through when I crossed the finish line in Vienna.

I faced two immediate problems, one that now I had 8 months left of the year without a stated goal, and two that I felt rather burned out after preparing for 6 months for one single race. I therefore decided to take it easy over the summer, race just for fun, and wait for the mojo to return.

I could not have predicted what followed. I set new PBs in the 5k, 10K, half marathon and 15 miles, following the earlier marathon and 10 miles PBs. In addition to that, I picked up age-group prize money in the Killarney 15 mile race, won my age group in the Valentia half marathon, and as if all of that had not been enough yet I ended my season with an outright win at the 30-mile race in Sixmilebridge.

As I said, terrific. It will be hard to match that in 2012. I still haven't got much of an appetite for another fast marathon, despite the conviction that I should have run 2:55 in Vienna and that my best time is still ahead of me. However, until I feel that I really want to put myself through that mill again I will once again concentrate on the Ultra distances, and I do have a few ambitious targets in mind, the first of which will be to go sub-5 in Connemara.

And just to start the new year with a bit of fun, I raced a 5k this morning. I'm sure Mystery Coach would not have approved, but I did it anyway.

The most stressful part was the car journey through Dublin city centre, but once I had made it to Phoenix Park I was very much looking forward to 15 minutes of suffering (because the first 3 minutes don't hurt yet). There are always some top elite runners at this race and I immediately recognised Fionnuala Britton, back in Dublin after her astonishing run to secure the Gold medal in the European XC a few weeks ago.

The course consists of almost two laps of a virtually flat triangular course and is very fast, but the wind wasn't ideal. Still, no excuses today. I set off at about 5:35 pace, which is what I always tend to do in 5ks, but then managed not to look at the Garmin for the rest of the race, definitely a good thing. Even though I was running faster than what I would be able to hold myself, I found myself surrounded by a few runners who looked distinctly out of place with a few stone extra on the hips. Unsurprisingly they fell back soon enough and if that sounds a bit harsh then I apologize but it was perfectly predictable; I have yet to see a heavy guy running a sub-6 mile.

They weren't the only ones starting at Kamikaze pace. Despite my own fast start, I soon started to slowly make my way through the field, something that would go on for the rest of the race.

A lady called out the splits at the 1K mark, which I passed in 3:36. "Great, almost a third done" I thought, until I realised that this was 1 k, not 1 mile (wouldn't it be great to be able to run a mile in 3:36?). Never mind, just keep going. Somewhere near the 2K marker I started wheezing/moaning/breathing heavily, whatever you want to call it (actually, it has been likened to giving birth by at least 2 somewhat unkind fellow runners). It's what I sound like when I run a 5K, and if I don't sound like that then I'm not nearly working hard enough. 5Ks are for suffering.

Going through the finish banner for the first time felt a bit cruel as we're still not even at halfway at that point. It did not help that we were facing the wind pretty much head on at that point. I heard a few shouts of encouragement, including a few for "Tom", and decided that they were meant for me, no matter the actual realities. At one point "Tom" got the advice to stretch the legs properly, which I followed up by promptly overtaking a group of three.

Periods of feeling good and bad kept following each other in quick succession. I always tried to make up yet another place when I felt second wind and then to hang on for dear life to the back of the runner in front during the next low. I did not count how many runners I caught from 1K onwards, but it was well over a dozen. I, in turn, got passed exactly once, and by trying to hang on to that runner I gained another few places.

Turning into Chesterfield Avenue for the second time, with maybe 1K left to go, I passed another 2 or 3 runners, one of whom wondered out loud how anyone breathing so hard would be able to run fast enough to overtake him. Next time save your breath, mate, and it might help.

I kept chasing runners right to the end, one of which passed me back on the final sprint, but I managed to hold off the rest of them. I felt a twinge of disappointment when I saw the 18:2x on the clock, but eventually came round to the fact that since I hadn't done any speedwork and ran up a mountain the day before, this was the best I could have hoped for, realistically. I sure had no regrets about not working hard enough, I can't think of a single stretch of the race where I didn't push with all I had, and that's all I could have asked for.

As I said, I'm sure the coach would have his misgivings, but it was definitely a great way to start the new year. Happy 2012, everyone.

Race Photo courtesy of Peter Mooney.

1 Jan

9 miles, including:
Tom Brennan 5K, 18:22, 5:54 pace, HR 176

Weekly Mileage: 61.5