Afterthoughts

Doesn't time fly? Dingle was already 4 days ago. My legs were in a fairly reasonable state following the race, there certainly was no comparison to what they felt like after Bangor. I was able to walk down the staircase in the office building on Monday without wincing, even if I wasn't entirely comfortable. Today, Wednesday, is the first day I'm not feeling stiff any more.

I have to decide how many days I will take off running. It will be at least a week, and right now I'm thinking more like 10 days, but that may well change come the weekend. It is of course entirely typical that this week would be the first week of continuous sunshine, and I can safely predict that by the time I'm back running it will be raining again.

The most important event this week was of course not Daddy's long race but Maia's first day of school, something she has been looking forward to for a long time. I'm trying to stop her older siblings from telling her how awful school will be in only a couple of weeks, but to no avail so far.

As for my race, I am still perfectly happy with how I did. Two years ago, after finishing in 7:28, I knew that I would be able to run at least 20 minutes faster. Well, I chopped 27 minutes off that time and I still think I can run at least 20 minutes faster. The difference would not be the way I race (I am perfectly happy with that) but with the preparation. I'm not going to run 6:40 unless I declare this an "A" race and train for it accordingly. Therefore a 6:40 won't happen next year, but following that, you never know.

Early during the race, when we were chatting along as we approached Conor Pass, I was thinking how much I like ultras and their relaxed pace. At the same time I wasn't sure how I would managed because my left Achilles was hurting at the time. Luckily, once the quads started hurting the Achilles was not noticeable any more, and I haven't felt any problem since.

According to the Dingle marathon facebook page, Keith Whyte's time puts him at World no.2 and European no. 1 in the latest world ranking for 50 miles. I have no idea if that is true or not, but it shows what an amazing runner he is. Over such a difficult course this is just mindboggling! Overall I'm still surprised how competitive the field was this year. Apart from Keith, who was always going to win it, there was nobody "famous" running, but times were still fantastic. I knew Ray Lanigan was going to do well, but if I had not met him in Connemara I would not have known him at all, and some of the other names might be familiar from results listings but not well known as such. Ultra running in Ireland is becoming competitive, and not just at the top level!

But it doesn't show the wind - nor the incline!

Someone commented about my shoes. I usually race in Nike Lunaracers, but when I tried them out a week before the race they hurt my Achilles, so I switched to the Brooks Green Silence instead. I knew they would be fine - I had been wearing the same pair in Bangor for the entire 126 miles and they had felt comfortable all the way through. Actually, I am not picky about my shoes at all. As long as they are lightweight and feel ok, I use them. I have no particular brand loyalty, in recent years I have used Brooks, Nike, Adidas, Mizuno, Asics and Saucony. I always buy my shoes online whenever I find a bargain - a few months ago I picked up 2 pairs of Green Silence and 1 pair of Saucony Kinvara for the combined outlay of €140. I tend to get 800-1000 miles out of a pair, so that one single order basically does me for almost a year.

Oh, and as for the raised hands when crossing the finish line - I did the same when winning in Sixmilebridge last year, so there is no need to change it for all those oh-so-numerous occasions when I walk away with the trophy. No idea why I'm doing it, though.

Once I start running again, preparation for Tralee will begin. I'm planning on using the rest of the year as base training. This will include at least 2 paced marathons, and maybe a short ultra (oxymoron or what!). The marathon-specific preparation will start around New Year.

Checking Progress

Some runners love their Garmins, others, usually older folk, hate them. Personally I’m firmly on the love side, but with reservations. I use it to monitor my workouts, not dictate them. As such, I find it a very helpful tool and one thing I always keep an eye out is the pace/HR ratio. I have a spreadsheet that spits out a VDOT number for virtually any pace/HR combination. The higher the VDOT the better, and as I get fitter during base training, the number gradually moves up (or, at least, that’s what it’s supposed to do).

In my previous blog entry I mentioned how that ratio had suddenly jumped up by a significant amount. Sadly, that did not last and the last few days have all yielded a much lower VDOT number. The outside factors were all fairly similar, plenty of rain, wind and cold as I ran the exactly same 8 miles each morning.

I do have a bit of a cold at the moment; I think it’s finally on its way out, but there are still some lingering effects. Nothing major, but it’s certainly a possible factor for the higher than expected HR.

Life goes on and training goes on. I have been taking it very easy since Sixmilebridge and as a result have not had any issues with heavy, tired legs that felt like a pair of concrete pillars, in contrast to the post-Dublin weeks. I would like to increase the mileage again, but right now the HR data keeps me from doing so. It’s already December, the next training phase is only a few weeks away and I want to make sure that I'm not tired at the very start of it.

All other 4-year olds I know, including my (now older) own ones, have to be coerced into eating vegetables by playing silly games. You know, pretending to be an aeroplane and landing in the mouth, that kind of caper. Maia, on the other hand, only got to be persuaded to eat her broccoli when mummy pointed out that they look just like alveoli. And if you just had to check wikipedia then I know a 4-year old who is smarter than you (and, admittedly, has an unusual obsession with the human body).

30 Nov

8 miles, 1:02:30, 7:49 pace, HR 145

1 Dec

8 miles, 1:02:14, 7:47 pace, HR 145

2 Dec

8 miles, 1:02:59, 7:52 pace, HR 144

Copy/Paste

As it happens, Mick Rice just posted a very appropriate picture on his blog. I'm going to “borrow” it unashamedly.



Sometimes life gets tough. There are bumps in the road. You learn to deal with it. You adapt. You don’t forget, but you may learn from it all, let the wounds heal and come out stronger. Life goes on.

I took Monday off work, had a stressful day but nevertheless managed to run for an hour at lunch time. I never looked at the Garmin, just ran easily, and was totally blown away when I realised what pace I had just averaged; 4 days earlier I had run at the same HR 30 seconds per mile slower. I have seen jumps in HR before on plenty of occasions, always following a race, but never to such an extend in so short a time.

The HR/pace connection continued this morning. I never looked at the Garmin when running. At home, I was at first dismayed with the slow pace, but then realised how low the HR had been. I'm now wondering if I should run a bit faster or not. Last year the coach had told me to keep the HR mostly to the lower 140s (though he’s not that keen on HR in general); running at a rate of 135 is a fair amount below that level, but the legs felt no different, really.

The low HR was all the more surprising considering today’s conditions. Icy wind coupled with heavy rain and flooded roads made for some hardcore miles in the dark, which I would normally expect to drive the HR up by a few beats. Anyway, for the time being I’ll keep running at an easy effort and see how things develop. I might increase the mileage at some stage, but nothing crazy. I only ran 25 miles last week, following the off days after Sixmilebridge, and that’s obviously going to increase straight away.

Maia has her future planned already. When she’s big, Mummy and her brothers and sister will have to vacate the house, as she needs it for her own children. I'm allowed to stay – she needs a daddy to look after her kids, apparently. The gerbil can stay too – we’re both very grateful.

28 Nov

8 miles, 59:12, 7:24 pace, HR 143

29 Nov

8 miles, 1:03:18, 7:55 pace, HR 135

Running Is My Therapy

We had a couple a traumatic days. I'm not sure if I would be able to cope had I not running as my valve to let of steam. Got very emotional at times.

It was very windy yesterday, a couple of hours before the real storm was supposed to hit. In marked contrast, today was stunningly beautiful, sunshine and little wind, and entirely unexpected. I probably ran too fast, but this one was entirely for the head, trying to get rid of some of the trauma.

Can't say too much - sorry. Normal service will resume. Let's just say I'm immensely grateful that running gives me something to hold on to.

Maia drew a couple of pictures on tissues, apparently THE arty thing to do when you're 4 years old. Apparently that's me in the background, running while being chased by the neighbours' dog. In the foreground that's her playing with her toys (ah sure, it's obvious, just look at it). Having a happy, enthusiastic and innocent 4 year old around helps as well.

24 Nov

5 miles, 39:36, 7:55 pace, HR 143

25 Nov

5 miles, 38:36, 7:43 pace, HR 146

26 Nov

7 miles, 55:39, 7:57 pace, HR 145

27 Nov

8 miles, 1:00:34, 7:34 pace, HR 143

Taking It Easy

The coach sent me a quick email, telling me not to be too hard on myself as the last evaluation had been very good. He also told me to relax a bit for the rest of base training to be ready for the next phase. The last bit was very timely advice. My legs had been a bit sore every evening this week and I had already decided to cut the long run from 20 to 18 miles. After getting the coach's advice I cut down a lot more - I binned the faster run on Friday and cut the long run down further, to just one lap around Caragh Lake.

Conditions on Friday were not too bad but the wind must have been close to gale force. That's not really an issue, I have run in those conditions dozens of times and 8 miles at relaxed pace just seemed to float by. I was quite surprised to see 7:45 average pace at the end, the effort had felt easier than that, which can be seen by the low HR. Not that I'm complaining.

Saturday's weather was a different kettle of fish altogether. The twins had yet another CTY day on Cork which required an early enough rise for my run. Since I really did not fancy yet another 6 o'clock alarm call I had already decided to move the long run to Sunday before I had even seen the weather forecast. They always seem to wheel out Jean Byrne for the most severe forecast these days (and yes, Ewen, she really is our weather girl). A massive storm front was promising some, er, interesting conditions, and so it proved.

There was a second storm to handle when Maia's stomach revolted yet again. We thought she had recovered but were proven wrong and a rather rough night followed. I'll spare you the details, but it was not pretty.

I always use the Ard-na-Sidhe road when the wind speed goes past a certain point and the storm shaking the trees sounded quite scary at times, but my hour of running seemed to pass in no time at all and once safely back home I figured I had run in much worse conditions.

Since Maia needed recuperation and Cian did not fancy a long car drive, Niamh brought the twins to Cork and I stayed home with the other two. Good call. I was wrecked for the rest of the day and my stomach felt rather queasy at times. I was a bit worried but a good night's sleep got me over the worst.

On Sunday I was finally back on the long, steep Caragh Lake hills and was surprised to find the running rather tougher than expected. I made it up to the top in good time but it required more work than anticipated and my hip muscles kept hurting for the rest of the run. After 30 hours of storm weather the conditions were much nicer, pretty ideal for running in fact. Still, with my hurting legs I was looking forward to being done and pressed the effort a bit over the last 5 miles, averaging about 7:30 pace over some undulating terrain with a net uphill. It was fast enough to get the legs going without wearing me out. I was reasonably happy with my run, but I could clearly tell that my long absence from these hills has left the legs significantly weaker than I'd like them to be. A few more runs over that road will sort that out. After a few weeks I will be able to run up the hills without a bother again.

P.S. You can win a free Garmin310XT at Ray's blog.

14 Jan

8 miles, 1:02:02, 7:45 pace, HR 141

15 Jan

8.5+ miles, 1:06:17, 7:45 pace, HR 145

16 Jan

16.6 miles, 2:09:20, 7:47 pace, HR 145

Weekly Mileage: 73+

Imagine Appropriate Headline Here

It looks like replacing the battery in my HR strap has sent the gremlins on their way again, at least the recent HR data looks believable. That’s good because I’ve got my first training plan from MC and it includes quite a few evaluation runs where I’m supposed to run at a specific heart rate for 4 miles and measure my pace at each mile. An accurate HR monitor is rather vital in that respect. The coach’s training program starts next week, with the first evaluation planned for Tuesday.

Maia is much better, thanks everyone for your sympathies. She informed me on Monday evening that she found her smile at the bottom of an ice cream tub, and several more bowls of ice cream have followed since. Any more and she’ll bite her tongue deliberately next time. She was absolutely ravenous on Monday, but has returned to her usual state by now. Little kids are amazingly resilient.

On a completely different note, the Chilean miners seem to have caught the world’s attention big time now that they have gone mainstream after being underground for so long [groan]. Niamh seems to pay particular attention to the one guy who had both his wife and his mistress waiting for him. She reckons he would have been better off staying where he was. There is an implied threat in that, of course. She’s clearly telling me that if I should ever be found having a mistress, I better pray for 2000 feet of solid rock between her and myself. But since I have no plans for taking up mining or a mistress, this has no practical application at the moment. (Actually, the cheating bastard seemed rather happy not to see his wife swinging a meat cleaver as he stepped out of the rescue capsule.)

Anyway, with my achilles improving on a daily basis I got a bit more daring on Tuesday and added a (very short) set of strides at the end of my run. That’s a much gentler introduction of fast paces than on my last attempt which ended so badly. I thought I could feel my achilles afterwards, but I’m not entirely sure if that was real or psychological.

Another steady run followed on Wednesday, which felt easier than a similar run on Monday, despite running virtually the same pace. I returned back to the Caragh Lake road for that one. Up to now I stayed away from that undulating road in order to protect my achilles, but I felt no twinge yesterday and thus will be back there again.

Today was easy again, still following the pattern of alternating easy and steady runs. Not much to say about that, but I picked up the pace on the last half mile; finally running 6:30 pace again put a massive smile on my face. I think I’m on my way back.

12 Oct

5 miles, 41:53, 8:23 pace, HR 134
incl. 4x100 strides

13 Oct

8 miles, 57:46, 7:13 pace, HR 158

14 Oct

6.1 miles, 48:09, 7:54 pace, HR 146
incl. 4x100 strides and a faster final half mile

Scrambled

My training is very much centered around my long runs at the moment, which requires reasonably easy training on the intervening days. As a result, I'm doing more than half of my mileage on the first 2 days of the week. The 5 remaining days are made up of 3 easy days and 2 fairly short ones with some faster running. One of these slightly more intense workouts were Thursday's mile repeats. On Saturday I did some 400s. The running as much, much faster than anything I will require during the ultra, of course. I can only hope they are right when they say this will strengthen my legs for the long miles to come.

Actually, I wasn't quite as apprehensive as I normally tend to be before speed workouts. 400s are over in less than 90 seconds, and even when the pain strikes you know it will be over soon enough. I only had 10 repeats on the program, and I knew I'd make those. Maybe it was my relaxed attitude, or maybe it was the fact that it was about 9 o'clock rather than 6 o'clock as it tends to be during the week, but I had a pretty good workout, certainly in comparison to many of my previous attempts at intervals. I needed the first 2 repeats to get into the groove, but from then on I was surprisingly consistent.

88, 86, 83, 82, 84, 84, 83, 86, 83, 84. I'll take that.

I had to mind Maia for a while during the afternoon, and when I turned my back for about 3 minutes she used the opportunity to cause maximum havoc in the kitchen. I found her cracking eggs on the table top. In an attempt to rescue as much as I could I gathered some of the stuff and chucked it into a pan, though she would probably tell you that she did all the cooking herself. She certainly enjoyed her scrambled eggs.


After an easy 5-mile recovery run in the morning I set off towards Killarney for another swimming lesson. Since I had not been in the pool for 14 days I felt rather rusty at first, but things improved after a while. Still, I'm under no illusion about the task ahead. I'll never swim like a fish, but if I can cover at least the required distance of a sprint triathlon without drowning I'll declare this a success. Up to then it's no more than cross training.

Maia must really have liked her scrambled eggs yesterday. I found her at the counter again, cracking an egg. Luckily this time I managed to stop her after only one egg. She still enjoyed that one, scrambled. Maybe she wants to be a cook. Or maybe she's just a toddler on the rampage. We've had some of those before.

23 Jan

8 miles, 1:01:42, 7:44 pace, HR 55
10x400 in 88, 86, 83, 82, 84, 84, 83, 86, 83, 84

24 Jan

am: 5 miles, 40:35, 8:06 pace, HR 140
pm: 80 minutes swim

Weekly Mileage: 71.5

Conversations

Niamh: We’re going to Dublin soon
Maia: uuuhhh!
N: who lives in Dublin?
M: Gaga!
N: Yes, and who else?
M: Nana!
N: And we’re going to see Clara
M: Baba!!!!!
N: That’s right, she’s a baby and her mummy is Sara
M: Rara!
N: And we’ll see aunty Cliona
M: Wawa!
N: do you remember what gift Cliona gave you?
M: Yaya aow! Yaya aow! (translation: Maia’s Cat! Maia’s Cat!)

She’s not even 2 years old, but you can already have a conversation, as long as you know her baby words. But the girl herself understands every single word you say.

A different conversation went on this morning:

Niamh: I didn’t like the sound of your cough this morning
Thomas: Neither did I
N: Don’t you have something of a neck test
T: What do you mean?
N: You promised you wouldn’t go running if there are symptoms below the neck
T: I DIDN’T GO RUNNING THIS MORNING
N: Oh (silence) You didn’t?
T: What do you mean? I was in bed right beside you!
N: I don’t notice these things. I just sleep.

At least it tells me I’m not missed when I’m out running.

There were 2 photos from Sunday’s race:

Being chased by the leading lady (Hey, I don't usually get chased by the girls!):



Just before the finish:


As far as training goes, I have been following P&D’s 6 weeks between marathons schedule fairly closely, just adding a few miles here and there. The 4 main workouts in that program are 2 interval workouts, a race on day 15 and an 18-miler on day 14. The last one really surprised me when I read it – I would have been much more conservative when creating my own schedule. Being lucky enough to find a race exactly 15 days before Dublin I felt compelled to do the following day’s workout as well, cold or no cold.

If Mike would have sabotaged my car on Sunday to prevent me going to Killarney, he probably would have been lying in wait by my driveway on Monday morning with at least a stun gun to prevent me from doing a long run. I guess it’s a good thing that he’s on the opposite side of the Atlantic then. I had set the alarm for 5 o’clock but woke shortly after 3 and started coughing. The one thing I said would stop me from running! However, I decided to be boneheaded and force through that one workout, but start a more disciplined approach immediately afterwards. The coughing stopped eventually, and just as I was drifting off to sleep again the alarm told me it was time to go.

I set off under a beautiful starry sky, but after a minute or two noticed that I had left my reflective bib at home. I hesitated for a bit, but then decided that going out for a long run with a cold the day after a race was stupid enough in itself; there was no need to add another layer of idiocy on top by running without wearing a hi-viz item. I turned around and rectified the problem. The run was surprisingly good, but a freezing cold headwind made me turn homewards after passing through Cromane rather than completing the entire loop via Killorglin. Instead I added a 6 miles out-and-back section after passing our driveway. On this section I tried to increased the pace again but had neither the legs nor the spirit to really push the effort, and 7:20 pace was all I had to show for. On the other hand, I didn’t feel tired during the entire run. While I think I can still feel some lingering effects from Dingle in my slightly sluggish legs, there is nothing wrong with my endurance. I can run 18 miles before breakfast without even batting an eyelid.

What I haven’t decided yet is the time I’m aiming for in Dublin, which is why Grellan is still waiting for an answer after asking twice. Sorry mate, the way things are going I might only make up my mind after crossing the start line.

Today the alarm went off at 6:40 for a 5-mile recovery run. I turned it off and snuggled into my blanket instead. Not that anyone took notice.

12 Oct

18 miles, 2:17:03, 7:37 pace, HR 149
last 6 @ 7:20 pace

13 Oct

0 miles *gasp*

... and Now for the Downer

I guess it was only a matter of time. About a week ago I noticed that Maia and me were the only healthy members in the household. Over the weekend, Maia joined to other side and on Wednesday it was finally my turn. I did notice a sore throat on Tuesday evening, “uh-oh”, and the suspicions were realised during a rather bad night. Now I know why Maia was screaming hysterically, though I managed to keep my self in somewhat better control.

Niamh tried to talk me out of running in the morning which was a completely wasted effort because running was the last thing on my mind. I stayed home from work, and I fact slept almost the entire morning, and still rested some more in the afternoon. On Thursday I WOULD have stayed at home had this been a normal working day, but it was the second day of a 3 day-seminar (each day a week apart) which I really did not want to miss. I got through it by taking a couple of ibuprofen every few hours, something I usually abhor. It was the same every time, the pills would take about an hour to really kick in, then I would feel almost ok for 2 or three hours, and then the downfall came until the next dose kicked in.

Today I’m just staying home again, recuperating. So far I haven’t run for 3 days and I’m pretty sure my lay-off will be longer than that. The mere fact that I really do NOT want to go running at the moment speaks volumes about how I feel. I will see how long I’m out of commission for, and then re-evaluate the rest of my training.

On the plus side I much rather have this happen to me now than in April. A few days off now won’t have much effect, and maybe the enforced rest will be good for my legs. I’m a bit worried about the duration of this illness, because all the kids were still coughing for quite some time after the first outbreak. Out of curiosity, I measured my resting HR this morning. My lowest ever reading was 38, before the Dublin marathon. Around Christmas it was 41, and the last two weeks it was 43 (probably a sign that I was already fighting off some infection). Today it was 69 – quite some jump, don’t you think? Not that I needed the number to confirm my decision to rest, I was merely curious.

One more plus, I finally found the time to cobble together some bits of Maia videos that have been on my hard drive for a bit. Don’t expect a masterpiece, but I like it anyway.

4 Feb

0

5 Feb

0

6 Feb

0

Stormy Nights

We are just experiencing the worst storm of the winter so far, and the most important factor in running was to time your run in-between lulls, to ensure a safe return. Yesterday, Saturday, I was quite keen to get out early because the weather forecast had left us in no doubt that a serious storm front was on its way and expected to hit us by lunch time.

I set off on the Caragh Lake road initially, but the heavy wind changed my mind very quickly and I turned around towards the Ard-na-Sidhe road. I just about managed to resist temptation as I was passing our driveway, it would have been so easy to get back inside rather than battling the elements. Anyone seeing me out there would have thought I’m completely mad; but actually it wasn’t the worst weather I have ever run in by any means. 8 easy miles passed by fairly quickly. Considering that I had covered 19 miles on Friday, albeit in two runs, I felt surprisingly fresh. The most pleasing aspect of the run was the realisation that my dead-easy pace is zoning in on 8:00. There’s progress.

The storm did indeed come, and boy was I glad to be inside. Further north they apparently measured wind speed of over 100mph. Here it wasn’t as bad, but we did go past the 60mph point, and today there were a number of fallen trees on some remote roads. Luckily we got away without damage around here, but the storm outside was nothing in comparison to Hurricane Maia inside our walls. She woke at 1 am, just as I was drifting off to sleep, and kept us awake until 4:30! She just kept going and going, and didn’t take too well to us trying to get some sleep. Eventually I managed to rock her to sleep on my chest, but somehow she woke again less than 3 hours later, and that was the end of my night! At some stage during the night I made the final decision not to have any more children (Niamh has come to that conclusion 14 months ago. I’m just slow in catching up). Niamh managed to add a couple of hours sleep in the morning, but I didn’t. I predict an early night for myself.

Bleary eyed as I was, I did manage to get out for a run. For my speed work during this training cycle I’m trying something new, as described here and here. I ran one 30/30 workout last year and decided to give this a proper go. Once a week I’ll do one of those runs. I’m starting out with 30/30 (30 seconds fast, 30 seconds slow, that is), in a few weeks I’ll switch to 60/60, and closer to the marathon I’ll attempt 3min/5min. I believe this is compatible with Ron Daws’ training program. He gives plenty of options for speed training, including steady runs, 400s, or 200s. I only cover about 150m in 30 seconds, but I don’t think that’s a sticking point.

After a false start (it started hailstoning literally as I was leaving the house), I was on my way. (I still got a beaning later on). Today’s intervals were rather slow, about 6:10 pace on average, definitely slower that they’re supposed to be. Since this was my first attempt at that kind of workout, I’m not too worried. I expect to improve as the legs get used to that workout. In fact, this improvement is the entire point.

As Private once pointed out, I like to experiment a lot, and he’s absolutely right about that. This has backfired quite a few times (remember the Red Bull before the Dublin marathon? I do!), and this is yet another experiment. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. I’ll see how it goes.

17 Jan

8.1 miles, 1:06:07, 8:09 pace, HR 135

18 Jan

8 miles, 1:01:12, 7:39 pace, HR 155
including 21x30/30

Weekly mileage: 87+

Great News

Maia took her first steps today! We are all celebrating

Have a look at my HR data from Sunday's Cork-to-Cobh race. It's not hard to see where I decided to ditch the group and start racing in earnest, is it?

I got a surprise when I inserted the data from the race into my training spreadsheet on Monday. There is a scoring function that is handy to compare your performance over different race distances, and Sunday’s race equalled my previous highscore, the 5k from Killarney back in July. Obviously the score from a 15 miler is much more relevant to me than the score from a 5k, especially so close to the marathon. It really came as a big surprise, seeing that I hadn’t raced all-out over the first 11+ miles.

I could not sleep on Sunday night. I was still buzzing from the race, and all kinds of thoughts went through my head. For a second I had the dangerous idea of going for a faster marathon time. After all, 6:35 had still felt totally comfortable at mile 11. I did manage to banish that thought, though. The Dublin marathon sports a nasty climb up to the 20-mile mark; if I get up there still feeling good, there will be ample opportunity to make up time. Marathons are long, and patience is a virtue.

My ideal scenario for Dublin would be to find a group that’s doing my pace and joining it, just like I did with that big group last Sunday. This made a big difference, especially psychologically. I think this was a major factor behind that pace feeling so easy. All my mind had to do was follow the leaders in front of me, and I could do that completely on autopilot. Unlike many marathons in America they don’t do official pace groups over here, and somehow it would feel like cheating anyway (don’t ask). But if a group of runners just happened to be running at 6:45-6:50 pace I would be very happy to join them. Of course, this is all just speculation.

I’m not sure if I’m officially tapering yet or if I’m merely recovering from the race, but the last two days were definitely on the easy side. I still felt pretty well for the 9 miles on Monday, but I could feel my hamstrings tightening up more and more as the day wore on. This is classic DOMS at work. I guess you can’t run such a long race and expect to come away without issues the next days. The race definitely left a few marks. My PF was flared up again, but nowhere near as bad as after the Liscarroll race in August, and a good bit of massaging seems to have worked wonders again. My right achilles was aching yesterday, but that went away overnight. Today, Tuesday, it’s mostly the achy hamstrings bothering me. I had my slowest run in quite some time this morning. I brought the Garmin along but turned off the backlight, which ensured that I would not be able to make out any numbers. Not tempted to speed up at all, I just plodded along my lonely path in the pouring rain.

I can’t believe how luck we had been on Sunday with the weather. Sandwiched between two spells of foul conditions, we had the perfect day for running. By Monday morning it had already changed, the rain arrived in Caragh Lake exactly at 5:19 am (I was awake at the time), and the wind was rather strong. Today it was less windy but with heavier rain in the morning, which is why I got a lift from Niamh into work rather than cycle. I did run home though, which added a few unplanned but easy miles, and I didn’t even bring a watch along (not on purpose, I simply forgot). I’ll take it easy again on Wednesday, and will have to decide what I want to do for Thursday. Before the Cork marathon I had done a set of Yasso 800s, which had predicted my subsequent marathon time with spooking accuracy. I had some vague plans of repeating that experiment for Dublin, but it would have to happen this week, and at the moment I simply don’t fancy running so fast. I might be persuaded to do a tempo run instead. I’ll see. Realistically, neither will make much difference in Dublin.

6 Oct

9 miles, 1:13:08, 8:08 pace, HR 141

7 Oct

am: 8 miles, 1:06:06, 8:16 pace, HR 136
pm: 2.5 miles, ~20 minutes

Anaerobically Overtrained?

It doesn’t come as a big surprise, but life can be challenging with a little baby in the house. After taking her time sleeping through the night, she has now started to wake far too often. And for some unknown reason, we seem to have settled on a parental pattern – during the day she’s Niamh’s baby, during the night she’s mine. A 4:29 am wake-up call on Monday was the low point so far, because even though Maia managed to fall back asleep afterwards, I did not. Last night was almost a relief in comparison, a 1 am nappy change was enough to send her (and myself) back to sleep until 6:13, and since my alarm had been set to 6:15, this didn’t cause any problem for once, especially since she fell back asleep after a bottle.

The original schedule for Monday had called for 11 miles, but with my recent rant about not recovering enough I cut that down to 9. I felt very good, actually, and the miles passed by very quickly. I t was probably a tad fast for an easy run, but the heart rate was pretty low, and I felt good, so why not take it.

Today was a different matter. It started badly and got worse, basically. After dealing with the aforementioned Maia problem, I got the shock of the day when my Garmin refused to come to life. And that on the day of mixed intervals, the one workout where I definitely need the damn thing! Dead as a dodo it seemed, but I remembered reading about other people having the same problem and booted up the computer. I found the solution, pressing the Mode and Lap/Reset keys together for a few seconds brought the device back to life. This is even mentioned in the manual, but for some reason only known to the technical writer it's not in the troubleshooting section but on page 6 where the function of each key is explained. Strangely enough the battery was half-empty despite being fully charged last night, but it had enough juice to last my workout.

Eventually, and of course a good bit later than planned, I made it out of the house, functioning Garmin on the wrist. Unfortunately the weather has turned again and it was really windy (the weather page lists wind speeds of 20-25mph, with gusts of up to 40 mph). I could have gone to Ard-na-Sidhe, but that road was so dark that I thought I’d probably run into a tree there and I opted for the road towards Killorglin instead. Initially the weather didn’t seem too bad, and 2 miles of HMP were no problem. As soon as the first recovery interval started I thought that this had not felt like HMP effort, and when I turned around and felt the full force of the wind against my face I knew why. To make things worse, the next 2 fast segments were not only against the wind but slightly uphill as well. The 2k at supposed 10k pace were as slow as 6:49, and then I completely lost focus during the mile at 5k pace, caught myself jogging along at 7:20 pace after my mind had started drifting, and did no better than a totally embarrassing 6:59! I even hesitate to put down those numbers because they are so bad. Half a mile at 3k pace (which should have been sub 6:00 pace, wind or no wind, especially since it was slightly downhill) brought a slight improvement but still only 6:17 pace.

I’ve had plenty of less than satisfying workouts during this build-up, and I have done plenty of moaning about it, but this one was by far the worst. I don’t feel the need to go on about it any further. I didn’t feel good today, but I also worked a lot less hard than I should have, no excuses. With less than 4 weeks to go I’m wondering if there is a point in trying to push myself faster than HMP pace if my subconscious self is seemingly unwilling to do so. Well, there’s one last race coming up on Sunday, and I’ll see how that goes. Somehow I’m always able to find a few extra seconds out of nothing if there is a bib on my shirt.

One more source of slight frustration is provided by my weight. I’m about 145 pounds at the moment, pretty much the same I was for my last marathon but 3 pounds heavier than a few weeks ago, and despite attempts to lose a few, the weight curve is actually pointing upwards. I’m definitely blaming Niamh for this. Imagine the scenario. You have eaten a healthy breakfast, a healthy lunch and a nice, decent dinner. Maybe you’re a tiny bit peckish, but nothing you can’t handle. Then this appears in front of you:



And the next day it’s tiramisu, followed by rice-cream the next day, and maybe some blackberry ice cream the day after. All of it homemade and all of it absolutely delicious. You could not resist either, don’t pretend otherwise. I’m definitely up against it here.

29 Sep

9 miles, 1:10:37, 7:51 pace, HR 140

30 Sep

8.5 miles, 1:03:48, 7:30 pace, HR 153
2m @ 6:41 (157/170), 2k @ 6:49 (167/175), 1m @ 6:59 (170/176), 0.5m @ 6:17 (169/174)

Monthly Mileage: 327

Not so Good

With 4 weeks to go, I’m in the last stages of heavy training for Dublin. I’ve still got one race to go, next week, and after that the taper awaits. I’m in two minds about that. On one hand, I can’t wait to get to Dublin and put into practice what I have been training for all those months. On the other hand, I wish I could come up with some magic formula that would hand me the 5-10 seconds per mile improvement that I would need to break 3 hours. Alas, no such formula exists. Now I’m unsure if I should accept that the 3 hours might be just outside my grasp this time round, or if that is merely a defeatist, self-fulfilling attitude. One thing is pretty clear; if I don’t expect to break 3 hours, I won’t manage it. The mindset would be all wrong.

After Thursday’s and Friday’s hefty dose of back-to-back workouts I was in dire need of some rest and recovery. Alas, neither was to be had in the required amounts, and I only have myself to blame. I spent all of Friday evening trying to add a few video clips of Maia into one sequence, and since this was the first time I had been doing anything like that it took much longer than it should have. It was well past midnight when I finally made it to bed, and with Maia waking screaming well before 7 am, I did not get much sleep.

Saturday’s run was strange too, but this time it wasn’t my fault for a change. I went for 8 miles along Caragh Lake, 4 miles out and 4 miles back. To my surprise I passed not just one but two crews of workers on my way out, and by the time I was on the way home they had started re-surfacing the road, and I could not pass. At least there was an alternative route back home, but that meant crossing the saddle between Seefin Mountain and the Water Witch, and a 300 feet climb within a mile was not exactly what I’d had in mind on my recovery day. It was my only option of getting home, though, short of a swim across the lake in my running gear.

I went to bed 2 hours earlier last night, but with Maia waking before 6am I still didn’t get the right amount of sleep. After a bottle, some cuddles and a nappy change I brought her into our bed, where she promptly fell asleep again. Alas, no such luck for me. After staring at the ceiling for a long time the boys eventually woke, and after their breakfast Niamh got up herself, and I got ready to go out.

As I was putting the Garmin on my wrist, Niamh, out of the blue, commented “Are you running half-marathon pace today?” I was stunned. “How did you know that?” “You have the look in your face of somebody who is about to be tortured!” Up to now I had assumed she had never even heard the term “half-marathon pace”, but I was wrong, obviously.

Well, the plan was indeed 2x4.25 miles at HMP, with half a mile recovery in the middle. I had tried to come up with an alternative route that would not feature all those hills on my way to Cromane, but failed. The road is very similar to the second half of the Bantry half marathon. No big hills but steadily up and down, and all the climbs are longer than you’d wish. I didn’t feel too good from the start. I’ve obviously not completely recovered from the rather strenuous double header, and yesterday’s unexpected mountain stage didn’t help either. I managed to somehow resemble half-marathon pace on the first interval with an average pace of 6:42 and avg/max heart rates of 165 and 171 respectively. Things fell apart completely on the way home, though. It wasn’t for lack of trying, but initially I could not even get under 7:00 pace. Salvation of some kind came in the form of two dogs who started chasing me a mile into that effort. I managed to shake them, and all of my sudden my heart rate was in the correct zone and my speed had increased. But I was still struggling to get under 6:45, and when the hills started again on the last mile I was at the end of my strength, underlined by the fact that I was wheezing badly. That’s something I always do once I pass a certain threshold, and I’m wondering if I’ve got a mild form of exercise-induced asthma. It doesn’t really bother me though; I still manage to get sufficient amounts of oxygen, even though it might not sound like that. Anyway, I seriously contemplated calling it quits a mile early, but I knew that if I kept going the torture would be over within 7 minutes. If I dropped out, on the other hand, I’d hate myself for the rest of the day. So on I went, but the shocking truth is that I didn’t even manage marathon pace over those miles, never mind HMP. The heart rates were almost identical to the first interval (164 avg/171 max), but the pace was 12 seconds per mile slower.

Numbers don’t lie. I did ask too much from myself today, and I’m obviously not getting enough recovery between workouts. There’s no need to comment any further on that. Next week will be slightly lighter with the race in mind, and then we’re entering taper time. That’s probably a good thing, because I might be tempted to overdo things even more otherwise.

I hesitated to embed my video from Friday night because it’s probably mind-bogglingly boring to anyone but family, but I’d probably get requests anyway if I didn’t post it. Watch it if you want, but don’t complain if it won’t provide the 4 most riveting moment of your life.

27 Sep

8 miles, 1:03:40, 7:57 pace, HR 143

28 Sep

13 miles, 1:35:30, 7:20 pace, HR 155
2 x 4.25 miles @ 6:42 (HR 165/171) and 6:54 (HR 164/171)

Weekly mileage: 75

Typical

This was entirely predictable. We had weeks of nice weather, so what happens on the first official day of summer? The storm clouds take over! Just how typical is that. This took me completely by surprise yesterday morning, and I did delay the run by an hour until the conditions seemed a bit better, meaning that the wind wasn't quite blowing at gale force, and the rain was slightly lighter. I only did 6 miles, which was manageable, but I've run in better conditions.

Today was even worse, though at least this time I was forewarned. Again, I delayed going out until there seemed to be a window in the storm. I managed almost 1.5 dry miles, then the weather returned and within 5 minutes I was soaked through to the bones. Running along Caragh Lake in those conditions is out of the question, and I chose two out-and-back loops to Ard-na-Sidhe, which is the only somewhat sheltered road in our vicinity I know of. Turning around at our driveway after the fist loop to head out a second time is a bit of a test, but I managed to pass.

Apart from the weather, the run was just about perfect. I feel great at the moment. I keep thinking that the effects of the Cork marathon must be out of my system by now, but I thought the same last week, and the way I'm feeling even better today points to the fact that there was still some more recovery to do. In any case, I feel more than ready to take on more training load. One look at the schedule tells me that this wish will be fulfilled.

One thing I learned from last night's strengthening exercises is that broad jumps are no easier than squat jumps. I'm looking forward to the day when I've got enough power in my legs to bounce around like a kangaroo, but so far all I can do is try to avoid collapsing in a heap after each jump. Make no mistake, those exercises are tough, and I'm not the only one to have made that experience. I just hope they will indeed improve my running, because there's no races that feature bouncing.

There's another person who's developing at quite some rate in our house, though Niamh and me are not always of the same opinion on the exact level of progress. Niamh insists that Maia is saying “Dada”, while I think she's just babbling random syllables. Niamh also insists that she's able to wave bye-bye when I leave in the morning, while I think she's merely waving her arms about, like babies always do. However, there's no doubt about her one tooth, and the fact that there's a second one about to break though (which unfortunately doesn't improve the peace at night). She's also able to crawl across any room within seconds, is able to find the smallest pieces of dirt/food/toys on the floor and put them in her mouth, an she's starting to pull herself up. Niamh keeps telling me that she's well ahead of the average development schedule. Having three older sibling in the house does that to a baby, but I don't want to disagree with Niamh assessment that we're dealing with a baby genius here.

21 Jun

6 miles, 47:49, 7:58 pace, HR 142

22 Jun

10 miles, 1:17:08, 7:42 pace, HR 150

Weekly mileage: 50.5

I can't see it

"I like your photo's, but I can see a lot of unnecessary tension in your face and body ... now all that tension in your body is just increasing your pain, wasting energy and slowing you down."

I looked at the photos for the apparent signs of being very tense, and in all honesty, I can't see them. Ignore that row of three photos – I was cramping at the time, and I dare you to look relaxed while your calf is in spasm. On the other photos I can detect that left lean that I've been talking about, but I don't think I look particularly tense. In fact, I always thought of myself as a runner with a fairly relaxed style.

I had been in a bit of a rut earlier this week. I didn't feel very well, my legs were very tired. Scratch that, I was very tired generally, despite getting close to 8 hours of sleep most nights. I have a very annoying sore throat, which is probably a reminder of the marathon, and which finally seems to be getting better, after bothering me for the entire week. Maybe I should have started taking Echinacea earlier. The other theory why I'm not feeling on top of the world is my hay fever, which is much worse this year than ever before. I hate taking the anti-histamine tablets because an hour after taking them I fall into a comatose sleep (which is why I can only take them in the evening), and I'm not entirely sure about other side-effects, but there is no doubt that they vastly improve the hay fever symptoms, and I end up taking a tablet about every 3 days.

Yesterday, on the homeward leg of the out-and-back route I finally got too bored with running at recovery pace and accelerated. It felt good to give the legs a bit of a stretch, and 7:00-7:30 pace over the last 1.5 miles were a nice change. I also thought I felt better afterwards, but that could be purely psychological. Today I set the alarm a few minutes earlier to break the monotonous sequence of 5-mile runs day after day, but the boys were awake, needed breakfast (and in Cian's case a shower) and by the time they were happy it was even later than usual, and my run was shortened to 5 miles again. In an attempt to change the scenery I turned right rather than left at the end of our driveway and ran towards Cromane. The first third of the road was flat, the second downhill and the final one uphill, and then it was time to turn around and do the same thing in reverse. I caught myself running 7:20 pace on one of the uphill bits and took that as a sign to slow down, but it was still by far the fastest run since the marathon. I have to keep reminding myself that I ran a marathon only 10 days ago, because the legs feel fine again, and don't show any real sign of damage. On the opposite, as mentioned, I feel the urge to take off, because too many runs at recovery pace have left me with a distinctive feeling of boredom.

I'll start the next marathon training cycle on Monday. That should keep me entertained.

Unlike her Daddy, the gorgeous Maia has been improving her motor skills at an alarming rate recently. She first managed to crawl forwards at the end of May (not even 7 months old!!!) and has by now perfected that mode of movement. No matter where you put her down, if you take your eyes off for a second she is in a completely different place, and unfortunately the improvements in motor skills are not accompanied by the development of common sense. She also steadfastly refuses to acknowledge the meaning of the word "NO", no matter if intonated in a stern or panicked voice. I still remember the havoc that Cian used to create all over the house. I can see a few damage reports in the near future (damage to the house, hopefully, not the gorgeous Maia).

10 Jun

5 miles, 42:16, 8:26 pace, HR 137

11 Jun

5 miles, 40:17, 8:03 pace, HR 145

12 Jun

5 miles, 39:10, 7:50 pace, HR 137

Maia's First Video

Since I'm still not running and I haven't got anything better to do, I might as well post the video Niamh made the other night when Maia simply refused to fall asleep. I know, I know, it's just a baby doing what a baby does, but she's my baby, and I've got the right to be as besotted as I want to be.



The weather out there is simply appalling. I really don't know how I will be able to do some training when I'm not allowed to run in the rain. This could become a real problem.

Maia and Ryan

Ok, let’s get the formalities out of the way. Someone asked to see more pictures of Maia, and I don’t need to be asked twice (be warned). I’m only too happy to oblige, and here are some more.



Next, to the running. It’s been three days since my last entry. On Friday I once more set the alarm for 4:15 for another loop around Caragh Lake. In the evening, Niamh had said she wouldn’t tell her parents at what time her husband is getting up. Apparently she’s worried about what they might think, and the fact that they’re going to be asleep for another three hours even after my return is a bit mind boggling. The weather was a bit better than on Wednesday, but I still got wet at some stage. We’ve had a very mild autumn after that awful summer, with the temperatures around 10C/50F, so I can’t complain too much. The run went well, I’m now routinely running that loop in less than 2 hours without even trying. Again I ran the last few miles stronger, and accelerated more on the last mile. A lorry came up the road behind me and I tried to reach our driveway before it caught up with me, which I managed with a couple of seconds spare, which explains a mile in 6:34. It’s amazing what a bit of competition can do. I’ve done the 15.5 Caragh Lake loop three times this week; next week I’ll add the extra loop around the Devil’s Elbow into the mix on one or two occasions, and then my mileage will have reached its target of 90 mpw.

For Saturday, Jeff had a great idea, and completerunning.com advertised it, and I just had to take part myself. As you all know, 2 weeks ago Ryan Shay lost his life after 5.5 miles in the trials marathon, and Jeff’s idea was to run 5.5 miles on Saturday in memory of Ryan, or to run a longer run and dedicate 5.5 miles to him. I thought it appropriate to run 11 miles, the first 5.5 in memory of Ryan, and the next 5.5 dedicated to my baby daughter Maia, who had been born the day before his tragic death. One half of the run for a life lost, one half for a life gained. Poignantly, I came across 2 dead birds on the road during the first half of my run, and gently pushed them to the side of the road. It was quite windy and after 3 miles it started raining. I was tempted to go home when I passed our driveway halfway through, but I still had a job to do and went out for a second loop. I also included 10x100 strides into the second half of the run. Nobody said I couldn’t incorporate a proper workout into the run, and, in fact, I think Ryan would have approved (and Maia wouldn’t object either). Rest in peace, Ryan.

Today’s run was rather mundane in comparison, just a plain old 10 mile run, but I included a 2 miles time trial into it. The idea was not to run 2 miles at race pace but at a good aerobic effort and compare how it the times and recovery develops over the weeks. Last time I botched the workout a bit by looking at the HRM every 30 seconds. This time I ran it mostly by feel, and only checked the HRM 2 or 3 times per mile. I still got it slightly wrong on the second mile, I had taken it a bit easy on the uphill section and promptly forgot to push it more on the following downhill, but it still doesn’t quite explain why the second mile was 20 seconds slower than the first one. I didn’t feel tired, the run wasn’t fast enough to wear me out after 2 miles, or at least so I though, and I’m scratching my head trying to explain the time difference. At least the recovery was quick, the HR was down to 120 in less than 45 seconds, and only a handful of seconds later it was at 110.

I’ll go ahead with another week of very early runs, and see if I can manage it. I didn’t manage to get more than 6 hours of sleep most nights, which isn’t enough. I’m feeling refreshed now because I managed almost 9 hours both Saturday and Sunday, but I’ll have to see if I can handle a second week of sleep deprivation. The weather forecast for the next few days is rather foul, which doesn’t help.

16 Nov

15.5 miles, 1:57:22, 7:34 pace, HR 147
last mile in 6:37

17 Nov

11 miles, 1:27:39, 7:59 pace, HR 145
Ryan Shay Memorial Run, including 10x100 strides

18 Nov

10 miles, 1:16:37, 7:39 pace, HR 149
2 miles TT @ HR 165 in 6:34,6:54, recovery 120/44,110/52

Weekly mileage: 87.5

Indulgent

You’ll have to excuse me for a little bit longer. This is still a running blog, and, just to prove it, I’ll write mostly about running today, but you can expect a lot of photos like this in the coming days/weeks/months:


How could I resist? If Niamh stops me from running, I can just sit at the side of her cot and stare at her for hours. This might not do much for my aerobic conditioning, but it will do just fine for my mental side.

Anyway, as promised, the rest of this post will be about running again. After Saturday’s run Niamh had asked me to delay running for the next day to ensure that her helpers will be out of bed, so I didn’t leave until about 9 o’clock on Sunday. I ran all the way along Caragh Lake and added an extra hill at the end of that road to the proceedings, to make this a 12-mile run. At the turnaround point I noticed that I had been running pretty fast and expected a slower second half, but was wrong about that. Not that I hammered the pace on the way back home, but somehow I managed to run the 6 return miles at 7:17 pace. It wasn’t like that run about two weeks ago when I nearly ran myself into the ground, I just felt good and strong, and the pace just developed. My legs feel really good at the moment. I’m sure I have recovered fully from Loch Ness, and in fact I basically feel ready to run another marathon right here and now. Of course, racing season is over. If there were a shorter race anywhere nearby, I’d run it and expect a good time, alas there is none, and all I can do is train and run for fun – not a bad option anyway. Of course, theoretically I could hop on a plane and run a race in the UK, but that’s not my style, and leaving Niamh alone with the baby and the other kids is utterly out of the question. I’ll have to be content with the way things are, and guess what? I am!

If you compare my present paces with any other time of training, you immediately that at the moment I’m running at least 30 seconds per mile faster. I can’t really explain why that is. It’s not that my legs have suddenly mutated; my heart rate is a good bit higher than normal, so I guess I must be working harder. However, it doesn’t feel like it. I just run what I think is my normal training effort, but when I look at my watch or HRM they tell me I’m hammering the runs without even realising it. What will come from it? In base training, as long as your rate of recovery matches your rate of breakdown, you’re doing just fine. If I’m exceeding that threshold I guess I’ll find out soon enough. In one way this wouldn’t be the worst time getting injured, with no races planned, but of course I don’t want to be sidelined, races or not. During the last training cycle my paces automatically got slower as the miles added up. Maybe the same will happen this time again once I crank up the mileage again – if Niamh and Maia will let me crank up the miles, that is.

I’m off work this week (that’s what I saved a week of holidays for), and after dropping the children off to school and preschool respectively I had a good 90 minutes for a run, while Maia was sleeping, and decided to go for a route that I had always wanted to run. There is a part of the Kerry Way that passes high up between two mountains, and the climb from Caragh Lake is over 300 meters/1000 feet. It’s called Windy Gap, and I found out why. The trail was very steep, there are no switchbacks, it just goes straight up. I nearly managed to run all the way, with the HR climbing all the time. It was around 175 for most of the way, and by the time it reached 181 I had to compromise and hiked. As I found out, the summit was just around the corner, and would certainly have managed to run that far had I known. I’ll keep that in mind for the next time. I even took my camera with me, but it didn't handle the light very well, and the pictures are not doing justice to the majesty of the view, which was breathtaking, despite the weather not being great; halfway down the mountain on the descent towards the village of Glenbeigh it started raining. That would have been a real problem higher up with the stony trail, but at that stage the worst was well behind me and I managed just fine. I don’t know how far it was, according to the map it should be about as far as my normal Kerry Way loop, and I’ll call it 12 miles. I’ll do the same run again one day, but I might wait for some nicer weather.

4 Nov

12 miles, 1:28:53, 7:24 pace, HR 155
half splits 45:11, 43:43 (7:31, 7:17 pace)

5 Nov

12 miles, 1:42:32, 8:32 pace, HR 155
crossed a 300 meter mountain along the way

Weekly mileage: 67.75

The Peripheral Character’s View

It’s time to take a break from The Olde Running Tales and focus on slightly more important things, like a new life. Anyone not interested in that sort of stuff (i.e. men) should click away right now before they get queasy.

Niamh had started showing signs of things to come on Wednesday, so when I left work on Thursday evening I left detailed instructions for my co-workers in case I would not be in the office on Friday. My suspicions were more or less confirmed during dinner when Niamh had 3 contractions of increasing strength, and we soon retired to our bedroom to get everything ready.

Our midwife, Anne, had a lecture in Killarney until 10pm, but this was our fourth baby and we knew there would be more than enough time for her to finish the lecture and then come over here. We Niamh had chosen a home birth. If you check the statistics you’ll find that the success rate for those is as high as for hospital births (granted, this may not take into account the fact that high risk pregnancies always go into hospital). I don’t doubt that today’s doctors are highly competent in dealing with medical emergencies. My main problem with them is their attitude; they see everything as a potential medical emergency rather than a perfectly natural process, and in their eagerness to fix things often cause the very problems they claim to be handling. One person summed it up perfectly (I paraphrase): “we read lots of birth stories. The hospital stories were all about problems and how the medical people had saved the day. The home births stories simply did not feature any problems”. Anyway, let’s get back to our story.

By the time Anne arrived, Niamh’s contractions were less than 5 minutes apart, and generally lasted for over a minute; and they kept increasing in intensity. I had mentioned to Niamh how the on/off nature of contractions reminded me of interval training. She gracefully decided to agree with me, but thankfully that was the only time I felt it necessary to add some nerdy running thoughts to the proceedings. Things kept developing calmly for some time. Eventually Niamh started voicing her pain during contractions, but was fine in-between. By midnight she was in serious pain, and when I say serious pain I mean pain of the excruciating kind, the one that men will never have to endure, no matter what (good thing too, we wouldn’t be able to handle it). This was the worst part of the night; not just for her, but also for me. It’s hard to see your loved one in such agony and be completely helpless about it. Things started to progress, eventually the contractions weren’t as bad anymore and Niamh felt the urge to push. She had not taken any drugs whatsoever, and as a result she was completely with it, and instinctively knew the right things to do. The midwife’s role seemed to be to reassure her that she was doing perfect.

At that time we (that’s me, and Meg, a friend of Niamh) woke the children. That might horrify some people, but we had discussed it numerous times before. Shea had long ago stated categorically that he wanted to witness his sister being born. We initially refused, saying he would be scared by the blood and slime and by mummy crying in pain. However, he was adamant. He assured us he had read all of Niamh’s pregnancy books, he knew about the blood, the slime and the pain, and he definitely wanted to be there (btw, he’s 6 years old). Then Lola, his twin sister, decided she wanted to be there as well. Cian, our 3 year old, was flip-flopping on the issue like a politician, but the last instructions before going to bed had been to be woken, and that’s what we did. There was still some time before the birth, so Meg took them away into the kitchen, fed them biscuits, and brought them into our room with a couple of minutes to spare. Labour was progressing, and when the kids joined us, Niamh was pushing hard and well. The children’s faces spoke volumes. They were beaming with joy and excitement, and that's when I knew for sure that we had been right to allow them to be there. Shea twice took an alarmingly close look when the head was crowning. Later he described it as “in the shape of an eye”, which is both a perfect description and something only a child can come up with. I didn’t really see things at detail – I was required at the other end, holding Niamh’s hand and stroking her face. After what seemed like an age but was surely only a small amount of time Anne finally pulled the rest of the baby’s body out and gave her to Niamh to hold. She (the baby, that is) gave a little whimper when the air rushed into her lungs for the first time, but was quiet and placid, and, may I say it, content, for the rest of time. She was immediately alert, kept looking around her with great big eyes, taking in all she could. As soppy as it is, I’ve never been in a room so full of love as at that moment in time.

I’m so glad we had a home birth. There would have been plenty of opportunity for the medical people to interfere. The waters broke quite late, and the cord had been wrapped around the baby’s neck which initially alarmed me, or at least it would have had the midwife not been so calm and matter-of-factly about it. And surely Lola whispering into Niamh’s ear “that’s Good Pain, mummy” beats a doctor shouting “push, push” anytime.

As you might be relieved to know, I did not run on Friday. I knew all along that the 15 mile run that would have been on the cards had the baby not arrived that day was out of question, but thought I would be able to sneak out for 4 or 5 miles. However, it never happened. In the evening Niamh said to Maia, “your daddy didn’t run today because of you. You have no idea how big a deal that is.” I fell to bed utterly exhausted at 9:30, slept like a log until 4:30 am, and then watched Niamh nursing the baby, and later I changed her nappy. By 6 am I was wide-awake and decided to go out for the run that I had missed on Friday. Niamh had her parents and her sister for help, and I very much enjoyed my guilt-free 2 hours of solitude on a lap around Caragh Lake. I’ll still have to compromise over the next few days and weeks, and there’s no doubt where the priorities will be.

2 Nov

0 miles

3 Nov

15.5 miles, 1:55:44, 7:28 pace, HR 156