Pacing Cork

It's been a while since I last paced a marathon but I was reasonably sure I would be able to remember how it works. Since I had run the Clare Burren Challenge last weekend I had opted for the easier 3:30 slot and there were three of us, me together with Mark and Dipak, though Dipak arrived a bit late, got stuck in the crowd before the start and was always a bit behind us, so for all intents and purposes it was just me and Mark for the vast majority, with Dipak having his own group just behind us.

Niamh had been able to join me in the hotel, which had gone down very well, apparently that is the only perk of being married to a runner. Wait, what?

Anyway, at the earlier-than-usual time of 8:30 we were off on our way. It was already fairly warm and that would only get worse. I knew full well that a lot of runners would be struggling today. I hoped I wouldn't be one of them, though.

Right away I had to really reign myself in. 8-minute pace feels reasonably fast on a training run these days but with the race-day adrenaline working its magic it felt like crawling. However, I knew that the Cork marathon always measures a bit long on the GPS; I have seen it higher than 26.5 miles, so we had to run a few seconds faster per mile, and we also had to keep a close eye on the official mile markers, because they're the ones that count at the end, not the numbers on your watch.

Case in point, we passed the 2-mile marker at exactly 16:00, bang on pace. However, the average pace on my watch displayed 7:45, which was a bit worrying because that was definitely a bigger gap than anticipated. We were actually a couple of seconds behind at mile 3 with the average pace still faster than it should have been, really, something like 7:46 or 7:48. Since they are mounting the mile markers on lamp posts there is always the chance that they are a bit out of place, so we didn't make any drastic changes and just kept going at the same effort level.

Since the Cork marathon also incorporates a relay, we were passing a changeover point roughly every 5 miles. Some people focus on the negatives, being overtaken by a bunch of fresh runners every 5 mile, which is the wrong way of looking at it. See it as a positive, get a boost from the cheering crowds at the sidelines, and smile!

Between miles 7 and 8 the tunnel awaits. I actually had an argument (a friendly one) with someone the day before, because I think the climb out of the tunnel is the biggest one of the day; you just don't notice it much because your legs are still quite fresh at that point. The other guy disagreed and insisted there is a bigger climb in the second half Anyway, if you add the tunnel climb and the one immediately following at Mahon Point together, it's definitely the biggest climbing section of the race. On the plus side, once you're over that hump you get 2 miles of smooth downhill at a lovely gradient - and that's where we got a little bit too fast, getting a full minute ahead of time without even realising with a 7:30 and a 7:40 mile. Oops. I had made the same mistake last time I paced here. Having said that, with the hills waiting for us in the second half, being a minute ahead wasn't the worst thing to happen and we decided to keep it in the bank.

The next few miles are my favourite section, on the old railway line towards the Marina. Even when I'm in Cork I tend to go there for my training run (not done that for a couple of years, though). We passed the halfway mark about 80 seconds ahead of time, definitely a bit faster than I would have thought was ideal, but that's what it was.

Photo thanks to Cork Athletics

We merged with the half marathon, which had started a little bit earlier. The 1:40 group, running just a little bit quicker than we were, passed us soon after the merge and for a mile it was really busy but once they had gone ahead it settled and then the half marathoners around us were basically doing the same pace as we were. One runner (hi Richard!) introduced himself to me and said he liked the blog (though he disagreed with my post-marathon recovery program), which prompted some jokes about having a celebrity pacer. Hey, if they can still laugh at mile 17 we're doing fine.

That's when the work started in earnest. There are a series of climbs from miles 18 to 21 and if you're already close to the edge they can easily break you (as I found out myself last year). By now it was really warm and the humidity was very high, which made for fairly brutal conditions for a marathon and the runners in our group suffered and one by one they started dropping. By the time we had broken the back of it at mile 21 there were only a handful of marathon runners left with us. We also acquired precious few runners who had been ahead of us earlier in the race and it was a rather small group that turned into the straight road for the final few miles. There was a slight breeze against us, which actually made it easier because it felt significantly cooler, and most of what was left of the initial 3:30 group actually started to pull ahead to gain a minute or two before the end.

There was a nice surprise for me when Niamh was standing beside the road, and soon after we passed Grellan as well. Mark must have been feeling the effort by now because he kept mentioning how tough the conditions were, though he clearly had enough in him to keep going. I still felt reasonably fresh myself, which was nice to know. Even with that marathon from last weekend my legs were still in good shape.

Photo thanks to Cork Athletics

Towards the end we were surrounded exclusively by half marathon runners, who must have
been on around 1:42 or 1:43 pace. I tried to find a marathon runner to specifically encourage him or her, but to no avail. It's not that unusual for the pacers to arrive at the finish without any pacees but at a reasonably big race like Cork that's quite rare. A few runners of our group had managed to pull ahead on the last few miles, very well done to them. The rest suffered a bit too much in the tough conditions - that's a hazard at marathons, nothing you can do about it.

Right at the end Dipak caught up with us and we crossed the finishing line together, in 3:29:31 gun time, close enough to feel it was a job reasonably well done, especially as it had not been the easiest of days. There was not much left to do except congratulate the runners around us, marvel at Gary O'Hanlon's fantastic win (I had met him briefly at breakfast in the morning and at his warm-up) and go home. Marathon number 102 was in the bag - more importantly, it was the last really long training run in this cycle. It's about time to get into taper mode.

3 Jun

Cork City marathon, 3:30 pacer

3:29:24, 7:58 pace, HR 146

4 Jun

4 miles, 34:00, 8:40 pace, HR 134

The Lonely Pacer

... and after the marathon you go to Tralee and pick up the kids from their music lessons. Give them a treat and get Cian to the barber. Go shopping and pick up some weed killer as well. At home, cut the grass, cut down that tree and spray the path. Look after them, cook dinner, make sure they have their showers .."

Niamh is clearly a fan of active recovery after a marathon. There was to be no lying down, no matter how tired I would feel. For the record, the tree still stands and the hair didn't get cut either but I got the rest done. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Getting ready. Photo by Mary Mockett

This was planned as the third marathon in as many weekends, though I didn't quite make it to the marathon mark last week in the Wings for Life run. However, I've run fairly hard the last 2 weekends and despite recovery going very well I knew there was a limit to what I could subject the legs to, so I agreed to pace 3:15 for the Lakes of Killarney marathon to remove any temptation to go out with Fozzy and co and fight for a podium position at 3-hour pace.

It's a reasonably small race but definitely deserves more recognition. The course consists of 3 laps in the Demesne of the National Park and the scenery is just to die for, at least on a sunny day, though they have always been lucky with the weather so far. With a rather bumpy profile it's not a course where you'd go looking for a PB, but that wasn't my aim anyway.

Right from the start Alex O'Shea was storming off for an undisputed win, followed by 5 chaps who would contest the podium places. The 3:30 group was behind us and all that was left between those groups were us 2 pacers and one single pacee for 3:15. I have paced races where I came home without a pace group but that's a first for the pacers outnumbering the pacees even at the start!

Brendan and his 2 personal pacers. Photo by Valerie O'Sullivan

My fellow pacer, Dermot Kearns, had paced 3 hours in Limerick a fortnight ago (I had seen his group for the first 5 miles or so). There was literally not one single runner between us and the 3:30 group, so Brendan really was our only client today. Therefore we didn't have to stick religiously to 3:15 pace and I asked Brendan a couple of times if he wanted to speed up or slow down but he was happy with the pace we set (most of the credit goes to Dermot), a little bit faster than 3:15 pace.

As we clicked off mile after mile, time passed very quickly. This was a rather relaxed pacing gig and there was no pressure. As the first of 3 laps had passed I noticed the legs starting to get a bit heavy, the combination of Limerick and Wings for Life making its presence felt, but I had no trouble keeping going. There is one fairly big climb shortly after the start of each lap, which had me breathing a bit heavier than I would have liked on lap 2 but otherwise it was still a reasonably relaxed effort, the rolling hills of the rest of the course not providing any problems,

With the course featuring a section where you meet runners coming the other way, we had the chance to wave to a lot of runners, both the fast guys at the front as well as the other end of the field. Alex was way ahead in front and looking like he was out for a morning jog, Fozzy in second place and the chasers not too far behind.

At 14 miles I spotted John Foley ahead, and I could see that we was in trouble, having been dropped by the rest of the fast group. We caught up with him at mile 15 and I let Dermot and Brendan go ahead on their own and provided John some company, though I warned him that I would have to push ahead once we dropped behind 3:15 pace (we were about 2 minutes ahead at that point). For the next mile it was clear that he really was in trouble, breathing very hard even when we relaxed to pace to no faster than 7:45, and just a mile later he had enough of my presence and sent me ahead. The heat and humidity clearly had gotten to him and I had slight doubts if he would even bother to start the third loop (I was wrong, he did finish).

 a lonely pacer at mile 17. Photo by Artur Nowak

I was on my own all of a sudden, with Dermot and Brendan a good bit ahead, though I kept seeing them, I was still ahead of time and decided to keep at 3:15 pace, and if someone else from the faster runners would drop back I could try and coax him along. Until then I would just keep going, albeit on my own.

I took it fairly easy as I took on the big climb for a third time, which helped preserve energy for the rest of the loop. The good thing about having heavy legs from mile 8 onwards was that the heavy legs at mile 20 didn't feel any worse and I had gotten used to it.

Pacing was a bit tricky because the GPS signal and the mile markers didn't particularly agree. The RD swears that he measured the course more than once and that it is correct, and I know from racing a lot of 5ks in the National Park that the signal can indeed be unreliable beneath the forest cover. The only thing to do really is to rely on the mile markers and pace yourself off them. I still had over a minute in hand when I unexpectedly drew level with Dermot again at mile 24. He's a quality runner but the conditions had gotten to him as well, in addition to that sub-3 in Limerick, but we were still comfortably within 3:15 pace and made our way towards the finish as a re-united pace team. Brandon had pushed ahead (he finished in 3:12) and there wasn't much else for us to do, except finish the job.

We got there in 3:14:11, which I like to think was reasonably close to the target. In all fairness, there was no real need for 3:15 pacers today due to the lack of runners at that level, and Brandon would have gotten on just fine without us, albeit without the pleasure of my company. However, I very much enjoyed the race and can recommend it it to anyone looking for a scenic and well organised small marathon.

A few runners had suffered from the heat and the humidity, which always makes for tough conditions, even if the weather made the National Park shine even more gloriously than usual. I was glad I had been pacing this rather than racing; with the effort below race pace I found this much easier to handle.

I couldn't hang around for long because of Niamh's long todo list (and I had to collect the kids in time), so I made my way back towards the car park even before the 3:30 group had arrived. One of their pacers, Grellan, was in even more hurry than me; he can't have waited around for long and jogged past me on his way back to the car, a 3:30 marathon obviously not enough to tire him out (note to self, look out for him in Belfast).

All in all a very good day - but damn, I still have to cut down that tree!

14 May

Lakes of Killarney Marathon

3:14:11, 7:27 pace, HR 158, ran as 3:15 pacer

15 May

5 miles, 41:38, 8:18 pace, HR 136

Good Times In Cork

I have been pacing in the Cork City marathon for 5 years in a row now. I enjoy it very much and it would take quite something for me to miss that, and the small matter of a World Championship 7 weeks beforehand was certainly not reason to break that sequence. The pacers are always very well looked after in Cork and the pacing gear, which we get to keep, is always top quality. That's in contrast to Dublin where we are equally well looked after but the gear isn't always up to scratch.

Anyway, about a week before the race Niamh asked "are you staying in the River Lee hotel", and since that probably happens to be our favourite hotel in Ireland (not that we have sampled a lot of them) she more or less insisted on coming along. We then added daughter Lola to the mix and this quickly started to resemble a family outing rather than a pacing job. Family circumstances also dictated that I would miss the Expo entirely (a Frozen sing-along and dress-up is basically compulsory for Maia, no compromises) but I did manage to show up at the pacers' meeting point on Monday morning in time and it all worked out well.

I gave Grellan a bit of an earful for bailing out of the 3:15 pace group and leaving me to get the job done on my own but he didn't seem too bothered. It did deprive me of the chance to be part of the oldest 3:15 pacing duo in history but maybe we can do that next year as long as our creaking bodies hold up for another 12 months. Jo had organised for another lad to jump in at mile 10 to help out in case I wasn't quite up to the job for 26.2 miles, but until then I had the responsibility for the entire 3:15 group resting on my shoulders alone.

The weather forecast had been scary at times but seemed to improve slightly as the race date got closer. We knew that plenty of rain and wind were going to arrive at some stage, the question remained when. General consensus amongst the pacers was that we would be alright; we just hoped for dry weather at the start. Once you get moving, a bit of rain isn't too bothersome.

About to get going. Photo by Derek Costello

We started on time and got going. The first quarter mile was the usual game of dodging the idiots who had started right at the front and then proceeded to block the runners behind (I'm deliberately not mincing my words here. If you start right at the front and then run at 10-minute mile pace you're an idiot who is endangering yourself as well as the runners behind you), but thankfully we got past that stage quickly and without incident and from thereon settled into our pace, which I expected to be around 7:20 on my GPS device. I had done a few pacing miles on Thursday to get a feel for the pace and while it had felt manageable, it was definitely a bit challenging. I was therefore surprised how easy it felt on marathonday. I was basically jogging along perfectly relaxed and with very little apparent effort. So far so good.

Mile 1. Photo by Derek Costello

I missed the first 2 mile markers and at mile 3 found that we were 2 seconds behind. Ideally you want to be a few seconds ahead, and while the gap was too small to be a problem I realised that I had to up the pace slightly - 7:20 on the watch wasn't going to do it, 7:16-7:18 was more like it. That was faster than expected but I still felt perfectly comfortable at that pace. None of the pacees complained either, but the fact that the wind would have been at our backs at that point sure did help.

Passing the first relay exchange shortly after mile 5 provided a bit of excitement. Having a relay in a marathon can be a two-edged sword. There is always a big buzz at the relay stations and if you're feeling good, this is going to make you feel even better. If you're having a bad day, however, being overtaken by a new batch of fresh runners every 5 miles can be soul-destroying. Luckily, as a pacer I've never had that problem (yet!).

We went through the tunnel and after we had climbed out at the other side I could tell my group that they had already mastered the worst climb of the day. The next stretch was the first one to be a bit more challenging as we were running right into the headwind for a while and it clearly required an increase in effort. With only about a third of the race done everyone (at least everyone I could see) was still felt fresh enough to respond.

After 9 miles we were joined by our second pacer. I had been a bit dubious about the idea of having a new pacer jump in but have to admit that it was a good idea. It certainly took the pressure off me being solely responsible for the entire group and I knew the guys and lady would be taken care off even if I had to drop off for whatever reason.

Because the pace between the mile markers and the watch was so different, I had to keep a close eye on the markers to keep us on pace, because obviously it's the official markers that count, not the virtual miles on your watch. It wasn't a major issue but it made things a little bit more complicated. It certainly was a factor for miles 10 and 11 being a bit fast - not by much but closer to 7-minute pace than I would have planned. The fact that they were net downhill and with an increasingly strong wind at our back was undoubtedly the main contributor. I did apologise to the group but the main consensus was that having half a minute extra in the bag wasn't a bad thing with a few miles against that wind just about to come.

Photo by Doug Minihane

As we went around the sharp corner at Blackrock castle, one runner in the group had a fall. I don't know if he was tripped or stumbled over the kerb, but he executed a perfect side roll manoeuvre and got up quickly, having lost no time and luckily unhurt. I was actually quite impressed by the nimble reaction. I don't look anything like that when I take a fall!

Photo by Doug Minihane

The next couple of miles along the water, and right into the wind, were as challenging as expected. The group still held together well. The first casualty arrived just before mile 13, when a loud POP signalled that for the first time ever I was going to arrive at the end of a pacing job without my balloon. I'm sure some of the runners behind me weren't particularly sad as it meant no more balloon bouncing on heads or into faces in the windy conditions.

We got to the halfway mark about 40 seconds ahead of time, pretty much where I would have wanted to be. The next few miles were a bit of a breather, sheltered against the conditions on the old railway line. I really like that stretch and on the rare occasions when I'm in Cork for a training run I generally go there as it's ideal for running. Close to the 15 mile mark the other balloon popped as well. Luckily, at that point most of the runners recognised us as pacers even without the balloons, and we still had blue signs on our back identifying as as 3:15 pacers for anyone running behind us.

Photo by Kieran Minihane

After passing the marina, another relay point and a good crowd making plenty of noise, it was time to start working hard and getting the job done. Mile 18 especially was tough climbing up the South Link Road and once more right into a headwind that seemed to be getting stronger. It didn't get any easier after that because what followed were a few miles with rolling hills, still very much wind affected. This stretch was going to make or break your race.

For the most of it I was still feeling reasonably comfortable but on a few of those climbs I definitely started breathing hard and had to put in a real effort. Still, by that time I knew for sure that I was going to be able to finish the job.

Photo by Joe Murphy

The legendary Mary Sweeney had been just ahead of the group for quite some time and then ran with us for a while. Her pace had been so steady that at one stage I remarked that next year there was no need for 3:15 pacers, just follow Mary. Unfortunately she eventually did fall behind a bit but she finished not far behind me.

Just like last every year, these were the miles where the group fell apart. It always happens that way, the pacing group stays together until a few miles after the halfway point and then runners drop off one by one. If you're lucky, a fair few runners will manage to stay with you and you might add to the group when catching a runner ahead who will then be able to hang on. If you're unlucky you will cross the finish line on your own.

Thankfully, Cork is a big enough marathon to provide a sufficient number of runners to keep a core group together even for the later miles. A few runners would finish 2, 3, 5 or more minutes behind but as the 3:15 pacer you can expect to bring about half a dozen runners with you all the way.

Photo by Gearóid Ó Laoi

Shortly after passing the 22 mile point there is a downhill stretch followed by two right turns and that signals you're on the home straight. There are still 4 miles to be completed but the hills are behind you and on most days, including today, you have the wind mostly on your back. A group of 4 or 5 runners pulled slightly ahead of me and for a few minutes I ran at their pace before I realised that the guys had upped the pace a bit and I was going a little bit too fast. At that point I was about 40 or 50 seconds ahead of time and maybe 20 metres ahead of the other pacer so I eased up a little bit. Every time I caught up to another runner I encouraged them to stay with me. Only one of them let me know that there was nothing left, all others at least hung on for a while. Once they fell behind they got further encouragement from the rest of the group just behind me, which helped them again.

The rest of our group caught up to me just after 25 miles and we ran home together. A few guys and girls were struggling, cramps not helping, but everyone dug in deep and then, finally, we crossed the bridge and headed for the finish. I crossed the line in a official chip time of 3:14:38, which is pretty accurate pacing and I was rather pleased with that. Coincidentally, my gun time was exactly 3:15:00. I could claim to be a pacing genius but that was complete coincidence (and in fact, when I crossed the line I thought I had about 2 seconds in hand on gun time).

The watch showed 26.52 miles at the end, which is rather long but consistent with previous Cork marathons. Strangely enough, the difference between the official mile markers and the watch seemed to decrease over the last 10 miles after steadily growing for the first 16. I really had to keep a close eye on the markers today. Please note, however, that I do not question the accuracy of the course. I know the guy who measured it and have full confidence in him.

Due to my slow recovery after Turin I had been a bit nervous beforehand, but I had felt much more comfortable than I could have expected. However, once I stopped running my legs started feeling rather sore, more so than usual, and the walk back to the hotel was less than comfortable. The weather was also turning nasty at that point. We had been caught by a few rain showers and a few hefty gusts of wind on the road but until 12 o'clock it was still mostly okay, After that, however, it got worse by the minute and while the 3:15 pace group had clearly escaped the worst I felt sorry for the slower runners who had to battle some awful conditions.

Congratulations to all the runners in Cork, especially of course my own pace group. Thank you to everyone who said hello and who congratulated me on the run in Turin, either before, during or after the race, I was really flattered by the attention. I really enjoyed running this marathon, I hope you did as well.

Incidentally, my two ladies enjoyed being pampered in the spa of the River Lee hotel as well. I think they already booked themselves in for next year. I better be ready once more.

1 Jun

Cork City Marathon

3:14:38, 7:25 pace, HR 158, 3:15 pacer

2 Jun

5 miles, 47:25, 9:24 pace, HR 141

The Easy Shift

I had plenty of guilty feelings as I stood at the start of the Cork City marathon. I have been pacing it for the last 3 years, always doing the 3:15 pace group. In fact, back in 2011 Jo had given me my first ever 3:15 pacing gig when I was still nervous about doing that pace band and her confidence in me had been very re-assuring. However, 2 weeks ago, somewhere around mile 35 in Staplestown, it dawned on me that I would not have the legs to run that pace so soon after a 50 miler and I sent her an email. As a result, the one 3:15 pacer was entirely on his own while the 3:30 group was oversubscribed with 3 guys, and it was clearly my fault.

The Cork City marathon pacers

The least I could do was to at least do a good job at the 3:30 group. Pacing in Cork is always made trickier than expected by the funny Garmin readings. I don't know if it's because we are losing the satellite signal when we go through the tunnel but my Garmin always read at least 26.5 miles at the end. We had to keep a close eye on the official mile markers (thank God they are accurate!) and run a little bit faster on the Garmin than expected. Luckily, running 3:30 makes the maths trivial, 8-minute miles are all that's required and I was confident I would be able to work that out.

Still easy at 2.5 miles

I acquired a new friend because Aishling from Ennis was in a very chatty mood and we soon were BFFs. However after a few miles she must have decided that I wasn't a good enough friend (or maybe just not fast enough) and she moved a bit further ahead (she eventually finished in 3:27, well done)

The 3:30 pacers, and it's busy. Photo by Doug Minihane

Whatever you do when you talk about running, don't start whining to me. Distance running is a sport for people who get their head down and get things done rather than whinge and whine about it, and anyone complaining that the Cork course is tough will get short shrift, including the one runner who started whinging and whining to me at some point during the race. Sorry, the Agony Aunt was elsewhere today.

Water, water everywhere. Photo by Doug Minihane

Another runner who was with us that day was my friend Marty, who I had been in contact with for several years and who I first met in person here in Cork, at the start of the 2010 marathon. We happen to support the same football team. He promised to teach me some of the new songs (I haven't been to Manchester in a very long time) and I was looking forward to belting out "Who the f*ck are Man United" at mile 20, but around mile 17 or 18 he was gone. I was worried he might have run into trouble, but as it turns out he had felt too good to stay with us slow coaches and finished 5 minutes ahead of us.

"We're 30 seconds ahead!" Photo by Doug Minihane

At mile 15 the half marathon route merged with the full marathon and it got really busy for a while. Initially the half marathon runners around us were running a tad faster than our pace but that soon settled, and for the last few miles our group consisted of runners from both distances.

It was quite warm, though nowhere near as hot as some people claimed. It threatened to heat up on several occasions when the sun shone directly onto us but for the majority of time it was cloudy and much more manageable. The organisers were very well prepared and put on plenty of extra water stops, for most of the route we got water at almost every mile, which made a very big difference.

1.5 miles to go. Photo by Peter Mooney

As is inevitable we lost a lot of runners from our group on the hilly section between miles 17 and 20 but most runners who made it that far seemed to be able to stay with us. However, I noticed in the results that I moved from 282nd at halfway to 201st at the finish, which I found both very surprising and rather shocking.

At the end we urged everyone to move ahead and get the best possible time, which a few managed to do. We still had about eight marathon runners with us, plus a sizeable number of half runners. I checked behind me and decided that the gap to the next runner was too great for him to still break 3:30 and the pacers crossed the finish in one line (think Arsenal 1990 defensive line). Turns out I had underestimated one runner's determination and a strong sprint finish got him home just in time, though with chip time he actually had a much bigger cushion.

The plan had been to finish in 3:29:30 and we did it in 3:29:28, which is rather precise pacing, even if I say so myself.

3 pacers finished in unison

Splits. Note the positions!

The Garmin had measured a whopping 26.66 miles at the end; a good thing we did not have to rely on those measurements (and I am not even for a second claiming that the course is mis-measured). Unfortunately my HRM started misbehaving during the second half, which makes it hard to read any meaningful amounts of data, but I think the HR drift was minimal.

While I still felt guilty about not pacing 3:15, I got the bonus of still feeling very fresh at the finish. The legs felt like they could have gone around a second time without bother, not that I was about to test that theory. I was a lot stiffer after driving home to Kerry but a few hours of working in the garden actually improved things significantly and got some bonus points from Niamh.

I really enjoyed every minute of it. I can't wait to do it again. And hopefully next time I won't cry off at such a late stage.

2 Jun

Cork City Marathon, 3:30 pacer

3:29:28, 7:59 pace, HR ~141

Two Germans And An Englishman

The weather forecast had started to get rather ominous the week before the marathon with a massive storm predicted, and it got worse every time they updated the forecast - until Thursday or Friday when it started to get a little better again every time. It's still fair to say that we expected a rather tough day at the office when most of the pacers met up the evening before. The joke about doing a Mary Poppins came up more than once.

Therefore Monday morning came as a nice surprise with the rain already gone and the wind much calmer than expected. I was rather cold before the start but once we got going the conditions were pretty good.

There were three 3:10 pacers; apart from me there was Torben from Hamburg and Martin Rea, a former winner of the Connemara Ultra and rather accomplished runner, and a certain race director gave our group the title mentioned in the headline - 1 out of 3 ain't bad, I suppose.

Running a (sub) 3:10 marathon is about 7:15 pace. Because a Garmin almost invariably measures long, you need to run about 4 second per mile faster in reality and since we wanted to come home slightly under 3:10 that was another second. 7:10 on the Garmin was the target pace.

In my recent training runs I had troubles getting up to speed over the first mile, but with the congestion that comes with a big city marathon that was not an issue. We hit the first mile slightly slower than 7:30, which was to be expected. The second mile was pretty much on pace and over the next 3 or 4 miles we made up the difference. By the time we exited Phoenix Park we were bang on time.

At that point I was maybe 20 meters behind my fellow pacers, but I noticed that they were running a bit faster than goal pace. They were too far ahead to give them a shout and eventually I decided to fall back a bit and remain on actual target pace, even if it meant that the 3:10 pacing group got slightly split up. There was some doubt in my mind if I was doing the right thing but I have paced plenty of times before and decided to trust my own experience.

The spirit amongst the runners surrounding me was very good. The water stations tended to be a bit congested but elsewhere it was mostly fine; it got fairly bad with the 3:30 and 4:00 pace groups, I think, though.

Crumlin road is a tough part of the course, slightly uphill and always against a headwind, but despite earlier worries it was no worse than any other year. My own part of the 3:10 group crossed the halfway line half a minute ahead of time, pretty much where I wanted them to be. The other pacers were almost exactly half a minute ahead of us, so the gap wasn't as big as it might have seemed. It might have grown by a few more seconds until mile 15 or 16 but then started to shrink again. Since I certainly had not sped up, the others must have slowed down slightly, but we are really only talking about 2 or 3 seconds per mile and I doubt any of the pacees noticed any real difference.

My part of the 3:10 pace group - photo by Lindie Naughton

The group of runners surrounding me remained remarkably stable, usually the pacing group more or less falls apart after mile 20 but a remarkable number of runners managed to stick with me. Mile 20 to 23 are slightly downhill but then it is 3 flat miles to the finish and that's where most of the carnage happens. We caught a lot of runners/walkers on that stretch and the pace difference between us and them was at times huge. I suppose most of them were crash victims of the 3:00 bus - I've been there myself, of course.

By that time we had almost caught up to the other part of the 3:10 pace group, entirely without having to increase the pace. One of the pacers, Torben, got into trouble here and fell behind. That's why there are 3 pacers by group I suppose, and he was not the only pacer in trouble today, but overall the pacing was at the usual high standard.

There is a video of that shows the 3:10 group close to the end as well - we get into it 2:40 into the video.

The conditions kept the worst till last, there was a really strong headwind between miles 24 and 25, and anyone struggling to keep up would have been in real trouble here. We were a little bit ahead of schedule, which turned out to be a good thing I suppose because it meant we did not have to kill ourselves and/or burn off the pacees to remain on target.

As we were nearing the finish I did my usual thing at the end of a pacing job and ran backwards at times, trying to encourage anyone behind me to push ahead and get the best time possible, which usually works remarkably well and just about everyone behind me managed a sprint and finished just ahead of me. I crossed the line in 3:09:45 (DCM's time) which is just about perfect, even if I say so myself.

Before the marathon I had been a bit nervous about pacing 3:10, the fastest time I have ever paced, especially since I was still recovering from Connemara and my own stupidity. Running 7:10 pace in training had felt manageable but tough enough after a few miles, so I was really surprised by how comfortable I felt throughout the marathon. It was not until the last 1 or 2 miles that the legs started sending some fatigue signals, and even then it was not bad at all.

Having the pacing group split up by half a minute was not planned but actually worked out very well. I did notice a sizeable number of runners who had started dropping off the pace behind the first group and were starting to become dispirited only to have me catch up several minutes later and realising that all was not lost yet. A few of them managed to hang to me, when otherwise they would have dropped off completely. While it is hard to work out the optimum method of pacing a group, we may just have stumbled upon a great way to maximise success.

Well done to all the pacees who stuck with us from the start to the finish, so well done to Liam and Stephen and Rolando and Robbie and all the others, congratulations. I'm still reeling from a massive bear hug from one particularly happy runner who had just managed to break 3:10 for the first time in 14 attempts, and it's fair to say that the real joy and gratitude of the runners makes pacing a really rewarding experience.

I even managed to get onto the telly, the winner just happened to be interviewed as I was finishing in the background and with that butterfly wing on my back I was rather easy to spot. A few minutes later, who would be shouting my name but Rik Vercoe, the winner of the 10in10 in Sixmilebridge back in July, who had just run his first ever sub-3 marathon after running 32 marathons in a row (and some people have the cheek to suggest that I am mad). He got a big hug as well, obviously.

It was a great day, as ever. The Dublin marathon really is special. I can't wait to do it again.

28 Oct

Dublin City Marathon, 3:09:45, 7:14 pace, HR 160
   pacing the 3:10 group

Run Like A Girl

Let me confess straight away, I am not a great fan of the Women's Mini marathons. Road running has always been a very inclusive sport for everyone, helped by its accessibility, so to exclude half the population for gender reasons does not sit all that well with me. I get it that some women don't feel comfortable running with men, I still don't like the exclusion.

As I was standing at the start line today at noon, I was feeling slightly uncomfortable for 2 reasons. One, because a male in this environment just didn't fit, two, because pacing 40 minutes seemed a fairly tough task. When Catriona had asked me 3 weeks ago if I would pace it, my first question had been if she really wanted a male pacer, which she insisted on (in fact, all pacers today were male), and my second was for her to wait a couple of weeks until I could confirm (or not) if I would be able to run fast enough, still only 5 weeks after destroying my legs over 100 miles in Connemara. I did a test earlier this week, expecting to fail, but I came through so I confirmed my participation and as a result found myself surrounded by femininity as the gun went off.

I had checked last year's result when 3 women had run faster than 40 minutes and knew perfectly well that I might be in for a lonely run. Three ladies took off faster than me but I caught 2 of them on the first hill, still within the first kilometre, but at least the leading lady looked fast and comfortable enough to ensure that I would not be the first across the line, thank goodness.

Some of the km markers might have been slightly off, which did not help the pacing job. According to my Garmin I should have had a couple of seconds cushion at the first km but was 10 seconds behind and I was still 4 seconds slow at km 2. We went up Knockreer hill (hey, nobody mentioned I would have to run a hill!) and by km 4 I passed the markers a couple of seconds ahead of time. Unfortunately I was pretty much running in nowhere land with the first lady a minute ahead of me and the second a minute behind, so I don't think anyone really benefited from my pacing today. I could not slow down to assist the runner behind me, that's not how it works if you're pacing a certain time.

I felt surprisingly comfortable at that pace and always knew that running under 40 minutes was never in question. I was able to admire the beautiful surroundings (coming over the hill and looking at Loch Leane was particularly stunning) and enjoy the beautifully sunny day, which I could not have done had I been racing all out.

I passed all markers between km 6 and 9 about 20 seconds ahead of time, just where I would want to be, so I was confident I'd be just a few seconds under 40, but when the finish line drew close I realised that there was a slight problem, namely a short course. Even the announcer noticed ("you better slow down mate") but I wasn't going to wait in front of the line for a minute just for time's sake so jogged home and finished in about 38:40. I think the course was about 250 meters short, and Catriona confirmed that they had not been allowed to put the finish gantry where they had planned (at least I think that's what she said). The other pacers came home about a minute too early as well, and my Garmin said 6.1 miles, Chris's said 6.07 and Sean's even less, so yes, it was not an accurate course.

Ah well. I still enjoyed running a bit faster today and all the ladies I saw seemed to really enjoy themselves and treasure the achievement.

Oh, and thanks to Anne for giving her medal to Maia. She was thrilled!

12 Sep

10 miles, 1:18:16, 7:50 pace, HR 149

13 Sep

10 miles, 1:18:19, 7:50 pace, HR 144

14 Sep

am: 5 miles, 41:26, 8:16 pace, HR 132
pm: 7+ miles, including Killarney women's mini marathon in 38:40, HR 173

Shock Therapy

Photo by Niall O Crualaoich

Contrary to my prediction I was not thinking I was going to do something really stupid when I was standing at the start of the Cork City Marathon even though I was still recovering from a cold. No, I was far too pre-occupied with the seriously dodgy feeling from my stomach to be thinking anything, really. I did not mention it to anyone, certainly not to my prospective pacees, because they were expecting me to be the expert who would pull them around the course in the allocated time of 3:15, and whining and whinging before we even started would not have made the best impression, I think.

The pacers - Photo by Anne Lucey Murphy

The gun went on time and me and fellow pacer Alan quickly settled into the right pace. I have run Cork plenty of times before and know that the course always measures long on the Garmin, usually around 26.5 miles, and that has to be taken into account. A 3:15 marathon is 7:26 pace (minutes per mile, obviously, as always), we want to come home 30 seconds early, that's 7:25 pace on the official mile markers, and the Garmin should show 7:19/7:20. Once you know it, it's easy.

Unfortunately, during the early miles I was far too busy feeling sorry for myself to either take in the atmosphere or keep the pacees informed on our progress. I never even noticed the first 4 mile markers, that would have required looking elsewhere than the spot just ahead of my feet, which is where I had fixed my gaze because it seemed the best way to keep the nausea in check. Initially I felt absolutely parched and grabbed a small water bottle at the mile 2.5 water station, but even the first gulp almost made me throw up, so I proceeded to drink tiny sips for the next few miles (I still had half the bottle left by mile 10 where I exchanged it for a fresh one, half of which lasted to mile 16 - and those were small bottles, 250 ml/8.5oz).

With the pace band's help I did notice that we were 10 seconds behind target at mile 5, 10 seconds ahead of target at mile 6 and slightly behind again at 7, which was definitely down to some misplaced mile signs because the other pacers told similar stories. But after going through the tunnel at mile 8 we were definitely a few seconds behind because at that point the average pace on the Garmin had deteriorated to 7:23. For the first time today I wasn't just hanging on but injected a little pace into the proceedings. Alan was totally switched on and reacted immediately, which was good because the next wave of nausea hit me soon after and then I was once again pre-occupied with not having to make a quick side stop. He did enquire once about how I was feeling but regretted it immediately when I let slip that my stomach was feeling awful and I wasn't sure which direction its contents were eventually going to leave by.

I had been feeling like that before and knew that eventually it had to settle down. My initial guess was 10 miles, and I was reasonably sure I could hang on until then, and when we went through the relay changeover stations or the half-marathon start I could put on a fake smile and wave.

I hadn't said much up to that point, even by my own standards, but when we turned into the walkway off Blackrock Castle around mile 11 I inquired if anyone remembered running here in the Hurricane of 2010 when the conditions had been absolutely awful with the rain coming in horizontally. I realised that I must be feeling better because up to then I was afraid opening my mouth and inviting the nausea in. I wasn't completely out of the woods yet, I still had a few of waves to fight off over the next couple of hours, but I knew that the worst was behind me, and I might even finish that marathon, and maybe even on time.

2 pints at the finish, please - photo by Mark McManus / Power For Sport

We were back on target pace as well, the Garmin averaged 7:19 again and we went through halfway in 1:37 flat, just where I wanted to be. There was a bit of a surprise at mile 15 when the full and half marathon courses merged and with this year's new start time I had expected to hit them in the middle of the field but there was no sign of them. The idea that we might have miscalculated and we would catch them later on was quickly proven wrong and we soon enough twigged that their start must have gotten delayed (There was an organisational glitch. I have heard no complaints yet, but that's just a matter of time). We also had caught up to my friend Seamus, who as a sub-3 marathoner should have been much further down the road but didn't seem to have the best of days. For now he managed to hang on to us, though.

I looked around as the hilly section started at mile 17, and we had a sizeable group of lads with us, though sadly no lady. Unfortunately that group melted away like snow in the sun over the next few miles. The hills, while not bad at all, did not help but I think a lot of runners started suffering with the humidity and the higher temperatures. 20C/68F might not sound much to anyone outside Ireland, but for anyone who had trained here (i.e. just about everyone) this would have been significantly warmer than what they were used to, and the high humidity made things worse. Before the start I had been bitching about how I did not like the pacing gear because I can't stand zippers in my shirt, and since we were in Ireland it would never be hot enough to require opening it, but half a race later I was proven wrong and opening the zipper did indeed help (I still don't like the material, but I am perfectly aware that bitching about free running gear is pathetic).

By mile 21 there were just 2 pacees left with us 2 pacers, but at least both of them looked comfortable and the hills were now behind us. For the only time in the race I pulled rank as the more experienced pacer when we turned into the Straight Road and told Alan to ease up a bit, we were about 50 seconds ahead of time and there was no point racing into the headwind. The Straight Road (Carrigrohane Road to non-locals) is a bit of a mental test as the Cork County Hall can be seen all the way in the distance yet it never seems to be getting any closer, but at least it's slightly downhill (initially at least), though that advantage was being negated by the headwind which, just like the temperatures, could have been a lot worse but still, it wasn't ideal.

My legs were getting heavy at that stage as well. A pacer is supposed to feel comfortable all the way round and I was under more pressure than I should have been, even though me dropping off the pace was never under consideration, and certainly would not have happened so late in the race. While this was still short of race effort, it was a bit closer to my limits than I would have liked.

The top half marathon runners eventually caught us, three of them towards the end of the Straight Road and two or three more before the finish. One of our pacees felt good enough to inject some serious pace himself and we managed to pick up two more who managed to hang on with us. We certainly milked the crowd when the roads finally became crowded over the last half mile, which was great fun. The pacees all sprinted ahead to squeeze a few more seconds out of their time and we went over the finish line with a big smile on our faces in 3:14:31 on both our watches, excellent pacing if I may say so myself. Most of the credit has to go to Alan because for the first 8 miles I myself was merely hanging on and even afterwards he mostly set the pace himself. My Garmin displayed 26.51 miles at the end, just as predicted - at least I got that one right, it made the actual pacing much easier because we were bang on the correct pace right from the start.

I kinda hoped that running a reasonably fast marathon would provide sufficient shock therapy to knock the cold out of my system. The drawback of that strategy is that it's a rather painful way to treat yourself, and I don't know yet if it worked. I guess I'll find out.

Finally, big congratulations to Grellan who found an even more unusual way to dump a pacer and his group on the way to a 2:56 marathon than I had done 2 weeks ago.

2 Jun

8 miles, 59:44, 7:28 pace, HR 148

3 Jun

26.22 miles, 3;14:31, 7:25 pace, HR 148
   3:15 pacer, Garmin distance 26.51 miles (which would have been 7:20 pace)

Easy Does It

October bank holiday Monday can only mean one thing, the marathon is back in town. Like the last two years I was donning my pacing gear in the morning, rather than prepare to run it all-out. Unlike the last two year, I had gotten bumped up into the 3:15 pace group.

I wasn't worried about the pace, I have paced 3:15 before and during a couple of test runs last week the effort had felt remarkably easy.

For once I was glad that the marathon was on the Monday because Sunday had been a miserable wet and windy day. The conditions on Monday, on the other hand, were absolutely perfect. Cool, no rain and very little wind made for a slightly chilly time waiting for the start but it was perfect once we started moving.

What was slightly less than perfect was me not pushing the start button of the Garmin as we crossed the line. I can't remember if I forgot to press it or if it just did not register, fact is that I ended up starting my timer several seconds late (I guessed about 15), and since I was supposed to keep a very close eye on the clock, this wasn't ideal. Right after the start there was plenty of congestion, partially because of the usual idiots starting right at the front and then jogging at snails pace, but also because of a very tight right corner where we almost came to a stop. However, this proved to be the last time of the day where things didn't quite work out as planned.

There were three pacers for 3:15, apart from myself there was Greg who had paced 3:30 with us last year and Ray who I ran with in Connemara for the first 30 miles and who had just come second in the Dingle Ultra. The 3:15 pacees were in good hands.

Greg took off a bit too fast for my liking; maybe he tried to quickly make up the time we had lost at the slow start. Ray and myself were starting in a more measured way; we would make up the time gradually over the next few miles.

The course climbs slightly on its way to Phoenix Park, but you don't even notice it because your legs are so fresh. There was the usual mad scramble for water at the first water stop, something I stayed well clear of, even if it meant I would have to wait another three miles for my first drink. Because of the cool temperatures it wasn't critical.

We had almost caught up with Greg when there was trouble at the second aid station. I think someone slipped and fell and with all those runners heading for the same table it almost caused a pile-up. Greg escaped unscathed, but seemed to take it as a sign to take off again and within half a mile he was once more a good bit ahead of us. One or two runners made a comment about his uneven pacing, but they were being unfair, overall he kept a very steady pace. I heard that he kept his pacees entertained with plenty of jokes, which went down very well - something I'm not comfortable doing when I'm pacing. I just run. (It gives the runners a choice of which type of pacer they want to run with, I suppose).

I was well into my stride by now but kept having troubles with my backpack. They tried a new system, instead of balloons we were carrying backpacks with big, coloured flags sticking out. The were very light, but no matter what I tried the pack kept bouncing on my shoulders and the straps were rubbing against my neck. I was having visions of two bright red marks either side, as if I had been attacked by Dracula, which would have been fitting for Halloween, I suppose. Every time I tried to fasten the straps a bit more it was better for a short time, but within a quarter mile I was invariably feeling uncomfortable again.

The downhill mile from Phoenix Park ensured we got a few seconds ahead of 3:15 pace, and we kept a little cushion over the next few miles. I thought a few extra seconds would be handy for Crumlin Road. Last year that had been a real trouble spot with very bad congestion, verging on being dangerous and we had lost some time there. I was quite surprised to see that they had changed the layout this year, we had the entire road to ourselves instead of having cars whisk by on the other side of the line of cones, and it made a massive difference, a problematic spot had instantly transformed into a much more comfortable mile or two. Of course there was still the usual headwind to contend with. That seems to be a law of nature on that stretch of road.

We reached the halfway point in good time, with about half a minute of cushion, which I felt very comfortable with. The pacees around us seemed happy enough as well.

The next few miles just seemed to fly by. I felt very comfortable with the effort, staying on pace happened entirely on autopilot and we were cruising along. Admittedly, not everyone felt quite as happy, it was at this point that we gradually started overtaking people as they started getting into trouble, but for most of it I kept recognising the runners around me.

There are no big hills in Dublin and all the climbs are very gradual, but I know from experience that even the small climbs can feel a lot tougher with more and more miles in the legs. The last climb of the day leads up to Fosters Avenue and was marked with a big "Heartbreak Hill" poster (though Boston's famous hill is a lot worse). A few years ago I was indeed heart broken when my dream of a sub-3 marathon fell apart here, but that's old history now. Today I hardly noticed it and reached the top almost before I knew it. There really is a massive difference between racing a marathon and pacing it. The distance might be the same, but that's it.

The legs might have felt fine but my neck was anything but comfortable and by now the straps were proving distinctly painful. I was ever so slightly tempted to take off the contraption and throw it into a ditch, but having carried it all day, I might as well finish the job.

The last 5 miles in Dublin are actually very runner-friendly. There are a couple of miles with a very nice downhill grade that ensure that you can keep on pace with less effort than before, and the last three miles are packed with spectators that provide an at times almost Boston-like experience (ok, maybe not quite). That's if you're feeling good, that is. If you're struggling, the final miles of any marathon can be rather painful, something I know only too well.

Today was not a day for struggles, though. I think the great weather conditions ensured that a far greater percentage of runners had a good day. Usually pacing groups fall apart on these miles; sometimes you hoover up runners that had been ahead of you and some of them manage to hang on, which can mean that you cross the finish line with an entirely new set of pacees than the one you had shared most of the race with, but today I kept seeing many of the same faces right until the end.

I really enjoyed those final miles, and I told my runners to do the same as this was the glory stretch with the fantastic support from the sidelines, even if not all of their faces spoke of enjoyment. We cruised to the end, soaking up the atmosphere and closing in on the finish. Somehow all three of us pacers ended up in very close proximity as we entered the final stretch. Our pacees broke into a sprint finish as we tried to entice others, who were struggling a bit, to come to the line with us.

Because of my early mishap with the Garmin I wasn't entirely sure what my exact time was as I crossed the line but reckoned it must be close to 3:14. Indeed the (unofficial) time I got was 3:14:13. As our brief had been to come home between half and one minute ahead of target, I call this a success.

There was a big number of runners coming up to us afterwards and thanking us for our efforts, which is always great and quite possibly the most rewarding part of pacing a marathon. People are genuinely grateful and it makes for a very satisfying end of a long day.

This was great fun! Can't wait to do it again

29 Oct

2012 Dublin City Marathon, 3:15 pacer
   3:14:13, 7:24 pace, HR 156

Another One In The Bag

As Ewen pointed out the other day, this was my sixth pacing marathon in a row, though I did race a couple of ultras during that time. This is not entirely by coincidence; I find pacing a marathon to be an excellent training run. Experience has told me that I tend to run too fast when I try and use a proper race for training purposes, but when I'm pacing speeding up is not an option and therefore suits my purposes very well.

It's still a marathon though, and you can't take them lightly. I went into the race with a couple of problems. I've had problems with the skin on my right foot for a couple of weeks. I think it's dermatitis and the day before the race it became really painful when the skin started blistering. Don't worry, I won't subject you to photos. I had a second problem as well, and that was purely down to my own idiocy. I can never resist a good breakfast, and despite feeling fairly full after a bowl of cereal, a bowl of fruit with yoghurt and a couple of slices of toast, that chocolate chip muffin kept calling my name and eventually I gave in. That was 90 minutes before the start and I could still feel it in my stomach by the time we set off. I really should have known better.

My pacing buddy was Tony Brennan. We have paced before and I have utter confidence in his abilities, but he had hurt his back a week before and had tried to swap for an easier pace band without luck. As a result we started our pacing gig with question marks over both of our heads, but of course we didn't mention it to our pacees.

Tony set off at a pace I thought was about 5 seconds per mile too fast, at least that's what my Garmin kept telling me. He had a rather big bunch around him. For the first few miles I hung back by about 10 steps, with another group of runners around me. Cork is a bigger marathon than Limerick and we were always going to have more runners around us than at that race, but it was inevitable that plenty of guys were starting at a pace that was way ahead of their true fitness level.

By comparing the time and pace at the mile markers with the Garmin's display it eventually dawned on me that we would have to give a bit more extra than the usual 5 seconds to make up for the Garmin's measurement errors. Tony's pace had been correct all along.

The only time I fell behind a bit further was the climb out of the tunnel around mile 8. I thought Tony was pushing just a bit too hard for what was one of the biggest climbs of the day and took it a bit easier, which left me playing catch up for the next 2 miles, but at mile 10 we were all together again.

There was a great buzz at all the relay changeover stations and at the half marathon start, and Tony has just the right knack to get the spectators cheering particularly loud. It never failed to give everyone in the group a big lift, and that includes the pacers.

The weather forecast had been rather mixed but at the start there was not a cloud in the sky and it soon became rather warm. It regretted the fact that the pacer uniforms were t-shirts rather then sleeveless singlets, not that I could do anything about it. My foot kept bothering me for the first 5 miles until the endorphins kicked in properly and was fine from then on. My stomach, on the other hand, felt distinctly uncomfortable. I played with the idea of trying to get rid of the contents, but a) did not think I would be able to make myself do so and b) felt that the sight of one of the pacers throwing up at the roadside would not exactly instill confidence in our charges, so I kept going instead, taking the discomfort as deserved punishment for my gluttony.

By halfway we were about 30 seconds ahead of time, just where we wanted to be. The group had settled down to maybe a dozen runners, most of them looking reasonably comfortable. It was at that point that my stomach finally settled down and some clouds started appearing at the sky, dropping the temperatures down to much more comfortable levels. I finally started to feel good, and it was from that point onwards that I really enjoyed the race.

I chatted to a few of our pacees, they all had their own stories and their own motivations for running marathons. Plenty were locals with family and friends providing support from the sidelines, some had run marathons only a few weeks ago (or even one week ago in one case) and the mood was pretty good.

Miles 15 - 20 are the most challenging in Cork; it is a rather flat marathon in general but there are a few undulations in those miles and the runners who were just about hanging on to this point clearly started suffering and some started to drop off. We were about 40 seconds to the good, meaning that we could take it just that little bit easier on the climbs, and we implored out charges to hang on for as long as they could.

Apparently I ran past Brendan at mile 18 while he was walking off a cramp, but have to admit that I never even noticed him. I guess he paid the same price most of us have paid in our first marathon; it's a learning experience, and he has plenty of room for improvement.

After mile 20 or 21, the hills are a thing of the past and in theory you can cruise home from here on. The main problem was the easterly wind, which we would have to battle head on for the final 4 miles, especially on the Straight Road between miles 22 and 24. We passed plenty of runners along that stretch, most of whom had no inclinations of hanging on to us.

I checked around me with about 4 miles to go and we still had a dozen or so runners with us. For a while I was hoping that we would have a really big group with us at the end for a change. I checked again when we reached the end of the straight road, and sadly we were down to half that number. Two guys took up Tony's call to push ahead and get a better time (well, one had left a mile earlier), the rest were hanging on. With a mile to go I tried again, telling them to go ahead if they could, but the answer was "I can't". I was a little bit worried about the time lost fighting the headwind at the straight road but once we reached Mardyke it was much more sheltered and not really an issue any more.

When I was pacing Limerick 4 weeks ago, I had started feeling tired with a couple of miles to go. While there was never any doubt that I would be able to finish the pacing in time, I was happy enough to see the finish line. I was in much better shape in Cork. I felt like I could have kept going forever.

There was a great turnout of spectators at the end and the final stretch on Patrick Street was really the glory stretch. All four guys who had managed to stay with us made it across the line under 3:15, and the two who had successfully pushed ahead made it half a dozen satisfied customers. The thanks you get immediately after crossing the line are always very worthwhile. It won't have been my last pacing gig.

Race photos by Doug Minihane, Iain Shaw, Darren Spring, Noel Kelleher and Gearoid O'Laoi.

4 Jun

2012 Cork City Marathon, 3:15 pacer
   3:14:27, 7:25 pace, HR 159

What A Beautiful Day

As you can imagine, Sunday was a wonderful day. It could have been oh so different. At the crucial time, I was sitting on a train, unable to get wifi working and wondering how the match went on, but still highly confident. I was absolutely stunned when Niamh rang me with 15 minutes to go and we were 1-2 down. That sick feeling in your stomach is all too familiar to a City supporter. Then she rang again. I spent the last few minutes of the match glued to the phone while she held the other one against the telly. I tried not to get too mental when Aguero scored the winner (it was a packed train); one guy gave me the evil eye, the rest of the passengers seemed reasonably pleased for me. I even heard my kids screaming excitedly - up to now they had never given a hoot about City. Glory hunters! Still, somehow it's good to know that even after spending a billion quid or so, we STILL have to do things the City way.

Oh, sorry, I forgot. This is a running blog. That reminds me. I ran a marathon as well.

I had been a bit nervous about pacing 2 marathons on consecutive weekends, especially when I got bumped up to 3:15 in Limerick. But I recovered very quickly and on Thursday I knew I would not have any difficulties with the 3:30 pace in Kildare.

It was a lovely, sunny day but very windy. It became clear very early on that the blustery conditions would have some influence today. The pacers got special treatment with a big changing room and secure storage, and we were able to have showers afterwards. Great stuff. I felt almost like an elite athlete. Someone who would be much more used to that treatment was John O'Regan, who asked me if there was a marathon I wasn't doing these days. It was pure flattery on John's behalf, of course, but still nice.

Gathering at the start was slightly chaotic, but by the time the gun sounded somehow we were all lining up correctly. My pacing buddy was John, and since we both had those screaming orange pacing uniforms we were easy enough to spot. John's balloon popped with a loud bang less than half a mile into it, and I could see two red balloons rising up to the sky - I guess the 3-hour lads decided they were not going to bother with balloons in such windy conditions.

We settled into pace quickly and hit all the early mile markers spot on. They had affixed the signs to the nearest lamp posts, but they took that notion a bit too far because sometimes the nearest lamp post was a bit too far off the correct mark and they should have used some other means of fixing up the markers. It would have made pacing a little bit less tricky.

We had a good group going, well over a dozen runners. Mo was fooling around at mile 5, sprinting past us. When he drifted back to us a mile later I pointed out to him that by now he should know how to run a marathon, he really has enough of them under his belt by now, but he was having none of it.

The wind was really strong, and we were grateful enough for the high hedges. A few of our group kept getting whacked by my balloon, which also threatened to strangle me on a couple of occasions. I could have let it go but wanted to keep my 100% record of bringing the pacing balloon to the finish line going.

There was some sideline support passing through Newbridge and Athgarvan but for most of it it was very quiet. The banter in our group died soon enough as fighting the wind was taking enough energy. We kept our pace very well, always a little bit ahead at the mile markers. We were about 20 seconds up at the halfway mark, just where I would want it to be.

I didn't realise that the biggest climb of the day was awaiting us just here, and a few runners were definitely struggling with the combined forces of the fairly steep gradient and the blustery headwind. We hoovered up a couple of runners who had been in front of us to that point, which kept the overall size of our group reasonably constant.

Mile marker 14 was the odd one out, my Garmin showed 14.6 miles as we passed it, but that was followed by mile marker 15 at 15.05. We joked that we must have been close to setting a new world record, but apart from that one, all the other markers were reasonably ok.

I probably made one guy's day when we passed him around mile 16 and he thought we were the 3:45 group. He lightened up when we told him we were the 3:30s, though I do wonder how his timing/pacing could have been out by so much.

I can only talk for myself of course, but the miles were ticking away very quickly. John, my pacing partner felt the same, but it was clear that some in our group really started suffering. As always happens in a pacing group, the numbers started dwindling, and quickly. I started giving a few pep talks, encouraging the guys and telling them we were about a minute ahead of pace at the mile markers, and things like "only a 10k to go" at the 20 mile mark. I have no idea if that kind of thing helps to be honest, but at least nobody told me to shut up.

At one point I noticed a new runner in our group, Dipak Vala, who was running his 100th marathon today. That is quite some number. I still have a long way to go. He ran with us for a couple of miles but then pushed on for a strong finish. Respect!

We passed through Kildare around mile 23. One boy begged be for my balloon, but as it was tied to my wrist I wasn't able to get it off while running 8-minute miles at the same time.

Photo by Peter Mooney

With a couple of miles to go we encouraged our last remaining 5 runners to push ahead while we kept on pace, and to my surprise they all took us up on the offer. One guy was struggling with his hamstring and had to stop and stretch every half mile, but he managed to catch up again every time and made it in the end. As a result, John and me ran the last mile on our own. We were both still in good shape. I enjoyed the run so much that I was almost sorry for it to end, but it had to end eventually. We tried to get one more runner to come with us but his legs had completely seized up and he had to walk it in, a couple of minutes behind us. We crossed the finish line in 3:29:37, pretty much spot on. I like to think we did a pretty good job. I got a very nice compliment from one of our pacees, which felt particularly good.

I told Anto, who had organised the pacers, about the mile 14 marker and he thought we must have taken a wrong turn. If that's the case then a lot of people took a wrong turn as everyone within sight had followed the same route. To be honest, I cannot imagine that happening, there were signposts and marshals all along the course and my Garmin showed 26.47 miles at the end, exactly what I would expect to see. If we had left the course we would have by some coincidence still run the right distance; it seems rather unlikely. 

There was an incident where two runners did indeed take one wrong turn - the 2 front runners had not been directed onto the right path with only a quarter of a mile to go and ran past the finish line (and apparently continued on for 2 more miles), because one single marshal had not done his job. It shows how one otherwise very well organised event can suddenly turn sour with one single detail. From what I gather, the organisers handled the fallout pretty well, giving winners' cheques to both the original front runner and the guy who had broken the tape, admitting their mistake as well as apologising for it. I guess that's as good as they could have done, once the error had happened. I saw the guys in the winners enclosure afterwards and they seemed happy enough,

My own special thanks have to go to Anto, who organised the pacers, and Joe Cawley, one of the 3-hour pacers, who gave me a lift from and to Dublin. I would have been stranded without you guys. And congratulations to my friend Gary Condon for a 4th place marathon finish, just 4 weeks after running Boston. Not bad for a clown.

11 May

6.1 miles, 47:28, 7:47 pace, HR 142

12 May

5 miles, 39:01, 7:48 pace, HR 140

13 May

26.2 miles, 3:29:37, 8:00 pace, HR 149
   Kildare Marathon, 3:30 pacer

14 May

5 miles, 39:55, 7:59 pace, HR 142
   incessantly whistling "You are my City" all along the way ;-)