Still Alive

So I haven't written a single post about running since February, about 3 months ago. What happened? Nothing in particular, really. I just didn't feel like it any more. In fact, even in the weeks before that hiatus I sometimes had to force myself to sit down on a Sunday and write at least a short post about my running week, just to keep the blog going.

And then I ran Donadea, with very modest expectations, and I managed to do significantly worse even than that. It didn't come as a complete surprise, the body had been rebelling against running in the weeks before the race, I had to stop training or I would have run myself into the ground entirely and I ran the entire 50k basically on muscle memory, so the fact the the legs started cramping violently towards the end was always on the cards.

I could say I was licking my wounds afterwards, but that wouldn't be entirely correct, it was more mental than physical. Still, my calves were really sore for a full 5 days, which is the longest I have ever had sore muscles after a race (well, maybe with the exception of Sparta) and then I had a bit of a head cold. I know what you might be thinking but I'm pretty sure it had nothing to do with Covid; it was very mild, mid-February was too early to be in with a realistic chance to catch Covid here in Ireland and nobody around me got sick afterwards, so it was just one of those respiratory issues that do tend to come occasionally following long races.

Mind, I'd love it to have been Covid. A degree of immunity after a nothing illness would be great.

Anyway, I stopped running entirely for about 3 weeks and then I only picked it up very slowly, only a few days a week and only short distances at that. And then, of course, we got locked in, all of us.

I was actually in a very good spot, much better than most. I still had the treadmill that I had bought back in my competitive days, and it was still there, albeit much under-used. And since I had signed up for the Ironman here in June, I had purchased an indoors bike trainer in February, which turned out to be excellent timing for completely unforeseen reasons.

Now, I hate running on a treadmill as much as the next man, and the indoors trainer wasn't any better, but in the intervening years someone invented Zwift, and as it turns out it makes all the difference. It really is a complete game changer. Up to then I had once managed to last an entire hour on the treadmill and that had been pure mental torture. Now, being able to see your avatar on a screen and even run or cycle together with others, that mental boredom is gone and training indoors is actually fun. Not as good as running outside but fun nevertheless.

And then there's another thing. Ever since I started running 15 years ago I was always training for my next race, and of course it was always at least a marathon. And races of shorter distance were always just training races as part of the build-up. I always had the thought at the back of my mind that doing a training block aimed at a shorter distance, say a 5k, might be beneficial but there was always that next goal race on the horizon, so I never did one. Until now that is. Since all my long races have been cancelled, all of a sudden I had time and opportunity to do something completely different. I picked up an 8 week 5k training plan from Zwift and started pounding the treadmill in earnest, with intervals, hill sessions, tempo runs and what not. It's pretty good, much more fun that I would have expected a 5k training plan to be, still very challenging at times, just what you'd want it to be.

I did a 5k TT halfway through, which was definitely not on the plan but it was organised as a virtual race by someone on boards.ie, and managed to go sub-20, which would have been my fastest 5k in about 2 years, though I'm pretty sure 5k pace on a treadmill is easier than on the road, so how that would translate into an actual race I don't know, and I won't know for a long time either.

By the way, I'm definitely not sponsored by Zwift.

Last week they finally started to ease the lockdown restrictions and all of a sudden Enniskerry, Little Sugar Loaf and Bray Head are all in my zone, which makes running outside feasible again. The Prom would be as well, though from what I've heard it's too crowded to feel safe, so I won't go there. But it felt sooooo good to cover some real ground rather than a virtual one. Still, I'll finish that training program, and I'll definitely keep using Zwift for cycling. I can't see racing coming back this entire year, so it's really just to have fun, keep fit and remain healthy.

All the best.

Stay safe!

Stunned!

It doesn’t happen often that I am completely stunned but that’s exactly what happened a few days ago. I opened Facebook and the very first entry I saw had my jaw dropping as I was staring at the screen in utter disbelief, barely being able to grasp the reality of what I was reading.

The 2019 World Championships in Austria have been cancelled!

Had I known that was to happen, I would have done things very differently this year. I sensed a long time ago that I most likely should take a break instead of training ever harder in order to get back to international standards. To make the 2019 team I would have to run 2 quality races: one to qualify, and then the championships themselves. It was always a tough assignment but I had managed exactly that in 2014/2015, but admittedly on fresher legs.

Since I never managed to get back properly, the championships themselves have become moot as far as my personal running is concerned. However, there was still that little devil sitting on my shoulder, daring me to jump into another race, either in Tooting Bec, or in Listowel, or in Barcelona, or in whatever place I would find. I knew odds would have been against me to say the least. But a world championship in my home country would have been a unique opportunity and I may well have tried to grasp at straws, no matter how unlikely.

That has now definitely become moot. As was always the most sensible thing to do, I will definitely take it easy.

That has been surprisingly easy. My mileage is less than half of what I used to do week in week out. I used to run over 300 days in a row, and now I have taken a rest day whenever running wouldn’t easily fit into real life, even twice in a row (gasp!). I haven’t got any goals, no races planned, and definitely no pressure.

I can see Little Sugarloaf from my garden. On Sunday I ran up – though running was limited to the bottom half of the mountain, closer to the top it was hiking and scrambling on all fours at times. The views were fantastic though.

On bank holiday Monday I did a very similar run, but up to Bray Head. That was much more runnable and might do as a replacement for Windy Gap. And the views were equally as good. It’s nice to have those climbs so close to home. Maybe I won’t be missing Caragh Lake quite as much as I though I would.

2 Aug

4.12 miles, 33:13, 8:03 pace, HR 149

3 Aug

4.07 miles, 33:27, 8:13 pace, HR 147

4 Aug

5.55 miles, 47:41, 8:35 pace, HR 145

5 Aug

6.33 miles, 1:13:23, 11:35 pace, HR 139

   Little Sugarloaf

6 Aug

5.03 miles, 49:30, 9:50 pace, HR 141

   Bray Head

100 Times Recovery

Photo by Valerie O’Sullivan

I've gone through post-marathon recovery often enough by now to know what I can expect. Not that it is always the same - a goal race will take a very different toll on the body than a training run of the same distance. But I know the patterns very well.

I was really pleased by how the legs felt. They just took it as yet another training run. Even teh day after the marathon there was no soreness whatsoever, which was good as I had to return the rental car, which happened to be about 7.5 miles away from home, and running home afterwards was far more enjoyable than public transport would have been.

However, upper respiratory tract infections are very common, and once more I got hit. On Monday morning I has a slightly sore throat, which gradually developed into a very sore throat by Monday evening. On Tuesday morning the throat was fine but replaced with a splitting headache. On Wednesday morning the headache was still there, but much reduced. By Thursday it had moved into my chest, and by Saturday, give or take a day, it will be all gone. I know the pattern exceptionally well, I've gone through it so often.

Photo by Valerie O’Sullivan

My HRV readings were deep red the days immediately after the marathon but have already returned to green by now. My morning HR, on the other hand, is still elevated (around 48-50 rather than 40-42), which is rather interesting. The HR for my run was really low earlier this week, which really surprised me initially, until I realised that all my recovery runs had been on rather flat courses, as opposed to the very hilly commute I had been doing prior. I guess I'm starting to see just how much those hills are adding to the HR; maybe I haven't gone backwards in training after Rathdrum after all, the numbers just reflected the types of courses I have run on.

Due to that head cold, which was made a bit more complicated by the fact that it coincided with the first of my two annual hayfever bouts, I took to easier than usual in my post-recovery week, so no big mileage at the moment, far from it. I'm hoping to get back to that next week, and then it's getting close to taper time already. As long as the training cycle has been, now it feels too short already and I wish I could have a few more weeks. Same story as always.

13 May

7.6 miles, 1:04:58, 8:32 pace, HR 134

14 May

4+ miles, 32:51, 8:06 pace, HR 130

15 May

4.5 miles, 36:26, 8:05 pace, HR 134

16 May

4.8 miles, 37:58, 7:54 pace, HR 139

17 May

6.5+ miles, 52:31, 8:00 pace, HR 140

And ... 100!

When I checked the weekend weather forecast on Tuesday, things didn't look great. Saturday was going to be a miserable day in Kerry. I guess that's always a risk but I was dismayed nevertheless - you only get to 100 marathons once, and it looked like the beautiful sunny day in the glorious surroundings of Killarney National Park I had imagined was not going to happen.

Throughout the last few years, as my marathons started to accumulate, I had never spent much time thinking about the numbers. I was not chasing the target of running 100 marathons as such, they just kept adding up as I kept running them, the majority of them first and foremost being training runs, leading up to a longer ultra as goal race. However, once I got to about 97 or so, I started looking forward to reaching triple figures, and the last few days I was actually quite excited about the prospect.

Still, even on Friday the forecast wasn't that great; at least it wouldn't be raining at the start but then the weather system would close in. Ah well.

Imagine my surprise when I awoke on Saturday to a glorious morning with not a cloud in sight. I know the weather can change very quickly here but it really did not look like that was going to happen - it might just turn out to be that day I had imagined after all!

There was one issue: I awoke with a seriously sore right ankle. Actually it wasn't the ankle itself, it was a spot about an inch above the ankle, on the inside of the right leg. I've had similar pain before. It might not even be a running injury; I think I might have gotten it while driving from Dublin the night before. Anyway, it hurts when I run, it hurts when I walk and it equally hurts when I don't do anything, so the thing to do was to try and ignore it as much as I could.

The one thing I had asked for my 100th marathon was the bib with the number 100, and RD Alan was kind enough to provide it. It was with quite some pride that I put it on my top - you don't get to run such a round number of marathons very often. I got plenty of well wishes and congratulations (slightly premature at that stage) and just after 9 o'clock we were off. My 100th marathon had begun.

I had every intention of enjoying every single step today and watched the lead pack race ahead without any regrets - not that I would have been able to challenge them anyway. I very quickly settled into a comfortable rhythm and intended to stay there for the next few hours.

The course consists of 3 laps in the Demesne of Killarney National Park, mostly between the Castlerosse Hotel and Ross Castle. The course looks really confusing on a map but makes perfect sense in the actual surroundings. It is incredibly scenic - at least on a day like today, but from what I remember the weather seemed to cooperate most years, which is great because it's not half as enjoyable in the rain. It is also very hilly; there is a big climb shortly after passing the hotel, with some rough surface to boot, and there is a loop on Ross Island which is constantly going up and down, something I had almost forgotten but got reminded of very quickly on the first loop.

Of course we have to share the course with the other park users, which is perfectly fine as the path is generally wide enough, though there was a tricky bit in the first miles when there was a convoy of at least 5 jaunting cars, and they were a bit tricky to pass (and I declined the offer of one tourist load to join them for their ride).

The first lap passed very quickly. My ankle did hurt quite a bit for the early miles but I ignored it and eventually the endorphins kicked in and the pain went away. Apart form that little niggle I was on loop 2 almost before I knew it. When climbing the hill for the second time I remembered back to 2013 when I had a really good day and just seemed to fly up that climb totally effortlessly. Today I was a bit slower but it still felt easy enough - I wasn't running at my limit, and was able to enjoy it all the more.

The weather was still sunny, which makes such a difference. KNP is a stunning setting, though in a marathon you have to pay for that on all those hills. When the sun is shining, it's well worth it - hell, I'd pay extra just for the views. On a miserable day it would be very different but somehow it all worked out perfectly today. I was still cruising along nicely, the pace and effort remaining constant with the enjoyment level at its peak. Today really was a great day.

The biggest climb of each loop is right at its start, which is good as it meant tackling it for the last time at mile 18, when the legs were still in reasonably good working order. All throughout the day my legs had been working away perfectly happily on the flats and the downhills but with each little hill the hamstrings got a little less willing to put in the work. By the time I had reached the top of that hill, I was glad I didn't have to tackle it again.

Photo by Susanne Foley

I was a bit surprised to start hearing voices behind me. I had passed the second placed lady sometime through the second loop, so I figured this was the new second lady, and she was clearly gaining on me. For a while my competitive instincts kicked in, or maybe it was just the fragile male ego, and I put in a little more effort and kept her off. However, once we reached Ross Island for the third time the climbs started again and I could hear her getting closer. Eventually I realised that to keep holding her off I would have to go full throttle, and even then there was no guarantee that she wouldn't pass me, and I decided to enjoy the last few miles of my 100th marathon instead. Plus, my ankle was hurting again and easing off seemed to lessen the pain. Anyway, it didn't matter to me if I finished in 3:25 or 3:27 today and I consciously decided I'd rather savour the moment. I eased up, let her pass me (and her companion, who had a tough time staying with her) and continued to jog home.

Looking at the mile splits later I realised that I actually only eased up for about one mile. Once we left Ross Island and its constant climbs behind I got right back to 3:25 pace without even noticing, and I was still able to enjoy the last 3 or 4 miles. The weather was still as lovely and the scenery still as gorgeous as at the start and I drew it all in.

And then, much too soon really, I reached the finish, soaked up the applause, and just like that it was all over and I was done.

100 marathons completed (well, 65 marathons and 35 ultras).

Fastest marathon: 2:55:07
Slowest marathon: 4:36:42
Average marathon time: 3:25:02

Photo by Susanne Foley

Photo by Susanne Foley

12 May

Lakes of Killarney marathon

3:25:44, 7:51 pace, HR 146, 9th place

April Fools

"Are you here for the sword?"

Paddy's question referenced the winner's prize today, a beautiful full-sized hand-crafted sword made by Cyril. "Alex O'Shea is here. The rest of us don't have to worry about the sword". That summed up the situation. I was here to do a training run. A very long training run, the longest of my build-up, but a training run nevertheless. Alex's presence meant I would not have to stress about potentially trying to win and could just pace myself sensibly instead. At least that's the theory, it doesn't always work out like that.

Anyway, the most stressful part of the day was already behind me, namely finding the start somewhere in the back end of Kildare in complete darkness, but I had managed that in good time. Then we all got ready, had Anto deliver his race directions, including "there's a sign at mile 8 saying towpath closed. Ignore that.", mixed with his usual mixture of jokes and abuse.


And at 7am, just as it started getting bright, we were off. Alex stormed away right from the start to disappear behind the horizon in next to no time. 2 lads went past me at a fairly ambitious pace and then it was me. For the next 2, 3, maybe 4 miles I kept hearing voices chatting behind me but they eventually faded away. By that time Alex was a barely noticeable orange dot at the horizon and the other 2 lads were quite a distance ahead of me. At some point, when going through a turnstile, I caught a glimpse of the road behind me for what looked like a mile and there was nobody to be seen. I guess I didn't have to worry too much about being chased.

Directions were simple enough. Follow the Grand Canal from Ollie's and Charlotte's Spartan Way house for about 30 miles until you hit the turnaround point, keeping the canal 2 feet to your left. Then run back, keeping it 2 feet to your right. It really was as idiot-proof as that; it even saved Anto from having to signpost the course. However, I did disagree with his assessment that the surface was "85% road, 10% grass, 5% shit", and more like "50% road, 40% grass and 10% muck". Especially for the first 15 miles I remember preciously few parts of proper road and kept slipping on the wet grass and stumbling on the stones. In fact, the 2 or 3 miles of "shit" weren't really any worse than much of what we had already covered.


The checkpoints were 10 miles apart, which made me think about the best strategy. Most runners had their backpacks with them, and for a while I did consider that as well. However, water is heavy and carrying heavy load slows you down and makes you tired. Besides, I hate carrying stuff, so I just put my phone (the only compulsory item) into a little fanny pack together with a couple of gels and some caffeine/salt/paracetamol tablets (the last ones with the intention of not taking them, though I didn't see that through in the end), with a small muesli bar as a late addition, and resolved to drink at each aid station, and if I really was too thirsty I'd start carrying a water bottle from one of the aid stations.

Coming into CP1

I caught up with the 2 lads at the first aid station, and since I spent a lot less time in there than they did I was right on their heels as we left, though I wasted that time again to reply to some "Happy Easter" messages to the family back home in Austria when the phone started buzzing. I usually hate people posting selfies on FB during a race (it's race, FFS), but in this situation I deliberately tried to remind myself to treat this as a training run and not a race. That initially restored the gap to the lads again but once we hit proper road surface as we got close to Daingean (what? A Dingle in Offaly?) either I inadvertently sped up or they slowed down because by mile 17 I passed them and from then on was in second place.

There were about 12 miles of almost uninterrupted road surface, which initially felt hard on the legs after all the soft grass, but I quickly got used to it and relished the feeling of being able to stride out properly. Yes, I am very much a road runner. I got to CP2 and had a sports drink as well as a chocolate bar, before heading off towards Tullamore, where we passed the marathon distance. I was really pleased with how great the legs felt at that time, until I realised that taking on the carbs from the sports drink and the chocolate was probably responsible for that. There were 2 road crossing in Tullamore but I got through them without having to stop.

Halfway

I got to some rougher surface again and at about 28 miles saw an orange top approaching rapidly, which was of course Alex on the return journey. This would have been my one chance of taking race victory by attacking him unawares, but instead we gave each other a high five and went our respective ways again. The turnaround point arrived sooner than expected with "only" 30 miles on the watch. A quick drink, some banter with Anto, another selfie, and off I was.

At that point I remembered the weather forecast. It had been cold but completely wind still at the start. However, the remnants of the "Beast from the East" were predicted to visit us once again, which meant an increasingly strong wind coming from the East - oh shit! Basically, no or next to no tailwind on the way out and more and more headwind on the way back. Lovely. There was also some forecast of rain in the afternoon. I really hoped to get through the mucky bit 8-11 miles from the finish before that would arrive.

Anyway, I straight away noticed the breeze blowing right into my face though it wasn't too bad just yet. I kept going for maybe 10 minutes before encountering the first runner heading out towards CP3 and for the next few miles it was a steady stream of friendly faces with a common purpose, plenty of hellos, high fives and best wishes, which made the miles fly by and the wind not particularly noticeable. Shortly after Tullamore, just as it got quiet again, another, unexpected friendly face appeared in the form of Jack Healy, who helped out with an extra support stop and encouraging words. Thanks mate!

Off I went again, and eventually I started to notice the wind properly.

I don't usually run with music. Never in training. I prefer to listen to my body and go through the signal it sends. Music just distracts from that. However, once you run for long enough there comes the point where I prefer not to listen to those signals any more because they're starting to tell me things I'd prefer not to notice, and as I got close to the 40 mile mark I reached that point and I took out my tiny, old, very rarely used mp3 player and tried to drown out the signs of ever increasing fatigue with some good old-fashioned hard rock.

I was still in reasonable shape when I reached CP4 (same as CP2, of course) and didn't spend much time there, just another drink, and put a chocolate bar into my bag as an emergency supply for later. They had some pot noodles there but my stomach revolted at the mere thought of it and anyway, I don't think they would have contained a lot of calories. Some savoury food would have been good; maybe I should suggest to Anto to offer some boiled potatoes there next time, my own special secret for ultra running.

Soon after leaving CP4 I really started to notice the headwind and the miles on the watch ticked by at an every decreasing rate. I still held it together somewhat until I got to Daingean again but once I hit the grass again the wheels really started to come off and I stumbled from step to step again rather than run.

Actually, in some ways I was very pleased with how the legs managed to cope. There was not one muscle that was particularly sore, nothing where I could have pointed to and said "this hurts", and there was no sign of cramping. However, I was undeniably absolutely knackered.

Obviously, this didn't come as a complete surprise. I know I was treating this as a training run but once you hit a certain distance you reach the point where just moving forward required 100% effort, and the idea of taking it easy because it's not a goal race becomes meaningless.

In an ultra you will always have some ups and downs. Sometimes they last, sometimes they come and go quickly. It's how you deal with the inevitable lows that defines your race. As always, I dealt with it the only way I know: I put my head down and kept going. Left foot, right foot, repeat.

The landscape did not help. It's completely flat along the canal (well, duh!) and rarely are there any landmarks you can look forward to. Instead you tend to be able to look ahead for miles and see nothing but a pretty much featureless strip of water and a path either side of it. There will be a bend in the canal at some point and so you run for ages to reach it, only to be greeted by the next stretch of nothingness. And if you let the negativity get to you, you're in trouble.

Approaching CP5

Eventually I got to mile 50 and the final CP. "I need a chair and a coke", and both very provided immediately. I also took a paracetamol here, all good intentions not to take them having long evaporated. They also gave me a fruit bar, which I wasn't sure if my stomach could handle it, but it seemed rude to say no and my stomach did manage. I didn't stay long and left as quickly as I could. I wanted to get this over and done with.

As exhausted as I was, I was thankful to hit the mucky bit before the rain had set in, which was a definite plus. In fact, both the mucky miles as well as the many mile of grass seemed to provide much better grip now than they had on the way out. Unlike on the outward journey I didn't constantly feel like I was slipping all the time and seemed to find good traction all the way. I think the course had dried out a bit in the intervening hours. However, the headwind was now reaching the point where it could be described as "brutal". For a few more miles I was still running every step because walking would have been just as painful but somewhere around mile 55 I did have a few walk breaks, which I think was merely psychological because physically I was actually still feeling surprisingly good with the muscles all in good shape. Just exhausted, that's all.

I did curse Anto's name a couple of times, not sure if loudly or quietly. But mostly I did curse the wind. At some point, when I saw the gorse beside me swaying wildly, which really drove home the fact just how windy it was at the time, I started to scream out loudly in frustration at having to keep running right into the gale, but the wind was entirely unimpressed. I was tempted to just lie down in the grass but that would still have hurt just as much and would have had the distinctive disadvantage of not getting any closer to the finish.

Eventually I remembered that chocolate bar I had taken at CP4 and ate it. My stomach was less than thrilled at the idea of even more sugar and I think any more and it would have all come up again but as it turned out it was the exact right thing to do at the time. Within 2 minutes I was running again and within half a mile I was running faster than at any point in the last 15 miles, headwind be damned (which, admittedly, still wasn't very fast in objective terms). After almost 5 miles of nothing but empty landscape ever since passing Edenderry I finally saw some buildings again, and when I got closer there was a welcoming committee, which was fantastic to see and gave me a big lift. Thank you! There was only maybe half a mile to go, which flew by quickly, and then I was done.

Finally done!

The time was a rather modest 9:34:04, exactly an hour slower than my PB. How much of that is due to the dodgy surface, the wind and a lack of fitness is a question I'm not entirely sure about; however, the main purpose of that run was to build exactly that kind of endurance.

There was a BBQ going on, provided by our fantastic hosts Ollie and Charlotte, and the burger I ate right after finishing was probably the best thing I've ever tasted. Alex was of course long finished, recovered and happy out, and for the next couple of hours gradually more and more runners joined us as they finished. I stayed until about 7 o'clock, happy to have done the race but equally happy to be finished.

Thanks to Anto for putting on yet another great race, to Cyril for crafting a fantastic, unique trophy, and of course all the volunteers who spent all of Easter Sunday looking after a bunch of April Fools.

I never ate my muesli bar.

 

 

 

 

Courtesy of Sean Cassin

28 Mar

4.1 miles, 35:58, 8:46 pace, HR 121

29 Mar

4.1 miles, 31:11, 8:05 pace, HR 131

30 Mar

4.15 miles, 34:17, 8:15 pace, HR 128

31 Mar

4.25 miles, 36:03, 8:28 pace, HR 130

1 Apr

Spartan's Way 100k, 60+ miles, 9:34:04, 9:33 pace, HR 135

   2nd place

2 Apr

4.15 miles, 43:48, 10:31 pace, HR 121

Kerry At Its Best

I almost always run on my own. It’s not necessarily due to me being anti-social but more due to me running at funny times. Nevertheless, I do enjoy running with company, and on the weekend I had plenty.

Julio is a friend from Paraguay via Canada and has spent a few weeks in Ireland already for work purposes. He always wanted to see Kerry and finally the weather forecast made last weekend a promising one, all previous ones had been washouts. And boy, did the weather deliver.

I took him out on my usual Caragh Lake route on Saturday and he marvelled at the scenery, enough to insist we run there again, and next time with camera. I didn’t tell him that at the time but the really good stuff was yet to come. So, on Sunday we ran a loop around the lake. It meant he had to divert from his training schedule because there was no way he would be able to run marathon or half-marathon pace on those hills but it was well worth the potential wrath of his coach. The weather was nothing short of spectacular and the views suitably impressive. He even went back that afternoon by car to take some additional pictures.

For me it meant a few hours of running a good bit slower than usual, which for an ultrarunner can’t be that bad a thing. I do often wonder what the most appropriate pace for my training runs would be; after all, 24 hours race pace is significantly slower than even an exceptionally easy training run. I have tried running lots of miles at slow pace, twice, and both times it merely resulted in me not gaining proper fitness. So I need to run faster, and I only slow down right at the end of training to get used to the slower pace, once the fitness has been built up already. However, the occasional slow long run may well be beneficial. It sure made for an easy recovery – I have never felt as fresh after well over 2 hours of running as I did on Sunday.

On Monday, now back in Dublin, we got hit by yet another cold snap. I’m sure it didn’t impress our Canadian visitors but for the residents here it was the coldest we’ve felt in a while. Again, that’s fine, I can handle it and in fact I like the cold as long as it's dry. It's freezing cold rain and wind that I hate. The slippery footpaths can be an issue but so far I have gotten away with it.

The numbers have jumped up again to a new level. I am getting into territory that I haven’t seen in years, with the VDOT above 60 at times and I think there is still room for further improvement. I’m about to start racing again, not 5ks but long races like marathons or shorter ultras, and I’ll monitor how my legs will handle the load. I think they will do very well but let’s keep an eye on it.

All photos courtesy of Julio Castillo

3 Feb

9.45 miles, 1:22:18, 8:42 pace, HR 125

4 Feb

15 miles, 2:16:44, 9:06 pace, HR 126

5 Feb

10.6 miles, 1:25:23, 8:03 pace, HR 130

6 Feb

9.65 miles, 1:17:13, 8:00 pace, HR 139

7 Feb

9.7 miles, 1:14:26, 7:40 pace, HR 137

Photos And Some Notes

Notes

It's been 5 days since the race and recovery has been going rather well, with one notable exception. Obviously I felt rather destroyed on Sunday evening but on Monday I was already well enough to first go to W5 with the kids for 5 hours and then drive to Dublin.

Muscular recovery was swift. I guess having done this a few times before helped and I'm also reasonably sure that wearing those very cushioned shoes helped in that regard as well. By Wednesday I was walking down staircases without any discomfort.

I had a slight sunburn on my head. The unexpected sunshine on Saturday obviously being stronger than it felt. I did put on a bandana after a while but obviously a little too late. This caused one uncomfortable night on Monday as I just could not find a way to put my head onto the pillow with it pressing against my hurting skin but was suddenly gone by Tuesday.

My endocrine system took a hit and I have been feeling tired all week. I wasn't my usual self in the office. Today, Friday, I can feel a massive improvement, though, and am almost back to feeling human again.

I got a rash of small spots all over my forehead. I had the same thing happening after Turin and the Spartathlon. I have no idea what exactly is causing it (endocrine system?) but it seems to be happening after each extreme effort. That's gone away now as well.

The one area that is giving me by far the most grief is the big toe on my left foot. It is badly swollen with an angry red are close to teh nail. The nail itself is a bit dark which makes me suspect that I might have an uneven number of toenails in a few days. This is still very uncomfortable, 5 days after the race, and nothing I've ever had to deal with before. I'm blaming it on the Hokas. They might have saved my muscles from some damage but their toebox is notoriously narrow and sub-optimal. I might check out their latest shoe (Clayton), which apparently has some improvement in that area.

I haven't done any running yet. I might have been tempted by the quick recovery of the muscle damage but the toe will prevent that for a while. Most likely a good thing! I did an hour of yoga on the beach on Thursday morning, though.

Photos

from John Desmond (who was Grellan's crew):

from the race officials: