Gone With The Wind

Ah yes, the best laid plans. I had it all worked out, got a rental car Friday after work, carefully prepared all the stuff that was needed, and on Saturday very early in the morning headed up north for my first race in the East Antrim Marathon Series, something I had been looking forward to for a very long time. The race was the Paddy's Day 6-hours challenge and was going to be one of the key workouts for my goal race in June. Ah yes, the best laid plans.

I had not slept well, something that happens quite a lot before a race, but that didn't overly bother me, I'm well used to that. The weather forecast wasn't great, with temperatures plummeting back to about 0, but I can cope with that as well. One look at the wind forecast had me going "oh shi*t", but I still expected to manage. This is Ireland, I have been running in high winds on plenty of occasions.

Lap 1

As soon as I got close to Newtownabbey I did not like the look of the waves on Belfast Lough, they looked rather rough. And as soon as I got out of the car I almost got blown over. This was going to be interesting. I had to re-park my car after getting my number because apparently it would be too busy down here, which meant I barely had enough time to get ready but I made it just in time.

The course was from Loughshore Park towards Gideon's Green a tad over 2 miles further south, all along the sea front, and back again. A bit over 6 laps would be a marathon (there was a sign where you had to turn around on lap 7 for a full marathon) and my plan was for about 10 laps, making 42 miles, but to take it as it goes, this was a training run after all.

The first 2 miles were easy with the wind at our back. The next 2 were considerably more challenging, especially the last half mile back towards Loughshore Park where the wind was so strong that you kept running at big effort but barely kept moving forward. What worried me the most was the fact that the forecast had predicted steadily increasing winds. This seemed hardly possible at the time, but as it turned out, it was correct.

Lap 2 with Dino

I spent most of lap 2 chatting to Dino, which was nice, but the wind was so strong that you basically had to shout really loudly to get heard and after a while that simply was too much effort while running at the same time. I picked up a drink after lap 2 and kept going.

Lap 3. It still got worse after that

By now the wind had increased to such an extend that it kept pushing big waves right over the path. That proved to be a problem. A big one. Running on wet paths was not the problem. Getting soaked from wave after wave after wave, with the icy cold wind blowing a full tilt, was. Getting sufficient electrolytes was not an issue today. Every few minutes you were guaranteed to get a wave right in your face, with a mouthful of salt water. For once I didn't even think of taking a salt tablet today.

From as soon as lap 3 I started the internal dialog for how long I was going to endure this. I did not want to pull out lightly. I had spent plenty of money to get here in the first place, and I did not want to miss out on one of my key workouts, so I postponed the decision for a while. I kept flip-flopping on the issue. Once, just as I had decided to quit soon, the sun came out and it became significantly more tolerable, but that didn't last (though it did come out again later).

One area of the course was so exposed to the waves that everyone started running up on the grassy slope of a hill instead, which was hard going as well as slippery, with me taking one full plunge in the mud, but still better than the flooded path. Another section was re-routed through the car park. Nothing could protect us from the wind, though, and one section close to Gideons Green was still pretty bad with big waves coming over the wall all the time.

I had long started to question how save this was. After lap 4 I picked up another drink and for the first few minutes simply could not drink it, my face and lips had become totally numb and I could not sip from the spout until I had warmed up a bit once I had the wind on my back. Also, the field had thinned out considerably already, I guessed that at least half of the runners had already called it a day.

I still hadn't decided either way but resolved to make it to the marathon. Up to then I had paid no attention to the turn-around sign, having planned on keeping doing full laps until the end, but now I did start to notice it. I wasn't even tired. In fact, I was really pleased with how well the legs responded to running for several hours, even with the big effort required every lap when we had to fight the monster headwind. There was no sign of cramp either (maybe due to the constant load of unexpected electrolytes, hehe), and from that point of view it was going really well. However, when the sun disappeared again I eventually decided to end it with the full marathon. Finn seemed to sense something and told me it was warming up, but at that point my mind was finally made up and I told her I'd call it a day.

After completing 6 full loops I headed back out to the full marathon turn and back towards the finish. My watch said 26.38 miles and 3:46:50. The mileage wasn't what I had wanted but that was that. Due to this being a timed race you had an official finish after even one single lap, so this still counts as a result, not a DNF. Would I have continued if I required the full 6 hours for an official finish? I don't think so, but you never know for sure.

As soon as I stopped I actually started to feel worse, physically. I took a can of coke and could not open it, my fingers being too numb. Once a helpful angel (those organisers and marshalls REALLY deserve a medal!) had come to my help, I could barely drink it because my hand was starting to shake badly. I left very quickly, I really had to make it to my car straight away (thanks for the lift!). Once in there I was unable to get changed at first, shaking uncontrollably, and had to just sit there for several minutes with the heating on full blast before I could finally take off my wet gear.

As a race, this was a brilliant community effort with everyone being really supportive towards each other and all enduring the pain as a group. It was also the worst conditions I had ever run in. I have run marathons in over 30 degrees and I have run in rain with the wind blowing it sideways but today the combination of stormy wind and the icy cold sea water washing over us non-stop was utterly brutal. A handful of runners went on past the marathon, boys and girls you have my full respect! And congratulations to Finn for winning!

The one photo that gives you a sense of the wind

Me, I am definitely ok with my decision to pull out when I did. Even a day after finishing a large area of skin of my lower right arm feels somewhat numb and uncomfortably tingly, a bit like pins and needles, when I touch it. Slight nerve damage? I'm not sure. It felt better after a good night's sleep, so I'm sure it's only temporary but it definitely makes me glad I decided to call it a day when I did.

I'm sure I'll be back for more EAMS love sooner rather than later. I won't be expecting sunshine all day, but I sure hope the weather will be a bit more accommodating in future.

I saw on one website that the wind speed had been up to 32 knots (60+ kph). To be honest, I think it may well have been even more.

Also, there were plenty of friends at the race but I barely, or even not at all, recognised half of them because most runners were completely wrapped up, even with bandanas covering their faces. I put up a lot of photos because they are describing the conditions much better than any words could. Keep in mind that this wasn't even the worst section! Credit for all photos goes to Elma McAvoy.

15 Mar

am: 5.5 miles, 43:48, 7:57 pace, HR 139

pm: 6 miles, 45:28, 7:34 pace, HR 137

16 Mar

5 miles, 42:23, 8:28 pace, HR 128

17 Mar

EAMS 6-hrs challenge, marathon in 3:46:50, 8:37 pace, HR 134

18 Mar

am: 6.3 miles, 52:31, 8:19 pace, HR 129

pm: 3.8 miles, 32:27, 8:32 pace, HR 122

That Time Of The Year

I've reached the point where I wish winter would just pack it in and fuck off. It's been freezing for way too bloody long and constantly running in the dark is getting old as well. We've had one storm after the other, and I'm actually perfectly aware that I'm getting away lightly here in Dublin; those weather systems are a lot worse on the Atlantic coast.

This is definitely the coldest winter since the two Big Freezes in a row several years ago. I don't think I even used my running tights last year at all, this year they are the only thing I would even consider wearing. And I did see that picture of a lot of my mates in shorts in the snow up the mountains on facebook the other day - though I merely regard it as proof, if ever one was needed, that machismo is fucking stupid.

Enough of the swearing.

My mileage, which I deliberately reduced when I introduced faster weekly workouts, is starting to creep up again but that's mostly down to the fact that I re-started running twice a day on occasions (ok, only one occasion so far, but there will be more to come). I am slowly coming to the conclusion that I seem to increase fitness much better on higher mileage than by doing a few workouts. However, I'll still try and get some faster miles into the legs and that parkrun idea for the weekend is still valid.

I did one workout so far this week, which was a new kind of workout in this training cycle, namely long hill repeats. There is that tasty little road towards Puck's Castle, about 1 km long, with the additional evil feature of getting steeper the higher you get. Running there from my apartment and doing 4 repeats would add up to exactly 10 miles, which seems far too round a number to pass up the opportunity.

Wednesday morning actually was the worst day of the week I could have picked due to the snow on Tuesday evening and the freezing temperatures the following night which made for tricky road conditions the next morning, especially on higher grounds. However, the frozen snow provided just enough traction to keep the workout a possibility and I got through it without slipping once, so I got away with that one.

The workout itself was interesting enough. I was sure the first repeat would be the slowest because for me that is usually still part of the warm up. Running the repeats I could have sworn the second and third ones were the fastest while I started to feel the effort during the fourth one and was tempted to pull the plug, but got a surprise when looking at the numbers afterwards and the fourth had actually been the fastest and the third the slowest! I'll probably do that workout again in the coming weeks, I like what hill repeats do to my legs.

15 Jan

10.65 miles, 1:25:39, 8:02 pace, HR 134

16 Jan

9.7 miles, 1:17:11, 7:57 pace, HR 136

17 Jan

10 miles, 1:23:20, 8:19 pace, HR 141

   4 x 1k hill repeat

18 Jan

am: 9.7 miles, 1:17:31, 7:59 pace, HR 139

pm: 9.75 miles, 1:17:07, 7:54 pace, HR 141

19 Jan

10.3 miles, 1:23:47, 8:08 pace, HR 135

Happy New Year!

Dear Wind! You have been here since Christmas, making your presence felt continuously, at times in a rather forceful manner. Please fuck off. You've more than outstayed your welcome. I just want to have one single run without having to work like a trooper just to keep moving at times. Take that Storm Dylan with you as well on your way out and tell it to go elsewhere.

This might me our last Christmas in Kerry, which feels like the end of an era. We've been here since 2003, so I guess in some ways it is. To add to the feeling of moving on, our youngest daughter informed us that she no longer believes in Santa, which means that after all those years our house has now turned into a magic-free zone once more.

I used to hate Christmas for the shallow consumerism it promotes, but seeing little eyes light up at the mere thought of Santa is special and a much treasured memory. I'd like to hold onto that rather than concentrate on the superficial side of it.

On the running front, things are progressing nicely, a few hiccups notwithstanding. I always leave 2 relatively easy days after each speed session, including hill sprints, which is a nod to my ageing body and its reduced capacity for recovery, so Wednesday and Thursday were reasonably easy. The next session was on for Friday. My initial plans were another evaluation workout but the strong winds put me off, the numbers just don't make sense in those conditions, so I changed it to half-mile repeats, and since it was so windy I did them on the Ard-na-Sidhe road where it is a little bit sheltered. The plan was to run them at 6:30 - 6:20 - 6:10 pace and if I was still up for more at that point then do more at 6:10 pace. The odd numbered intervals were into the wind but net downhill (but with a nasty little steep climb) and the even numbered ones with the wind but net uphill, though the elevation change was not significant.

The first was fine, so was the second, though both could have done with a better sense of pace instead of starting out at 5:00 pace. The third was much more challenging, and it didn't help that the watch displayed slower numbers than later appeared on the web page after importing the data, which meant I inadvertently ran each repeat a few seconds faster than planned. Whether it was the pace or the wind or the asthma but I then spent the next 80 seconds trying to breath as if through a thin straw and knew that was the end of the speed session and made my way home. I also noticed afterwards that the second repeat was at a lower HR than the first despite being faster - the wind direction clearly being more significant than the modest elevation change.

Halfway through the way home I suddenly seemed to black out for a split second; I felt light headed and found myself stumbling into the middle of the road rather than running at its edge, feeling a little unsteady. However, it was over as soon as it began, and since I was on my way home anyway I  just continued on. I used to faint a few times when I was a teenager, which felt somewhat similar, and it was always related to low blood sugar, so maybe there's something in there as well. However, I sure was glad I had not attempted a fourth interval.

I was fine afterwards. I then made use of my last day in Kerry on Sunday to head for the local hills, in the freezing cold rain and the remnants of Storm Dylan still noticeable. It made for 2 character building hours.

And so ends another year. Race-wise it was disappointing with my one A-race a complete disaster, but things have picked up significantly since with an unexpectedly good performance in Dublin and some much coveted silverware in Monaghan and Sixmilebridge, and also coming first in the B2B in Howth. It leaves me with plenty of optimism for 2018.

2017 Yearly Mileage: 3062

27 Dec

10 miles, 1:17:31, 7:45 pace, HR 140

28 Dec

10 miles, 1:15:42, 7:34 pace, HR 143

29 Dec

6.7 miles, 53:28, 7:58 pace, HR 144

   3 x 800 @ 6:24 (163), 6:16 (161), 6:06 (167)

30 Dec

10 miles, 1:18:12, 7:49 pace, HR 146

31 Dec

16 miles, 2:08:59, 8:04 pace, HR 141

Abigail

The first of the winter storms hit us on Thursday. Most of these storms affect mainly the northern part of the island and here in Kerry we tend to get away lightly in comparison (until we don't). This one was somewhat cooperating in as much as it only struck properly once I had already finished my run on Thursday morning and mostly blew itself out before I went out again on Friday but I still had to deal with interesting conditions on both days. My standard procedure on particularly windy days is to run on the Ard-na-Sidhe road, where the trees give the advantage of providing some sort of wind shield but considering the amount of broken branches of all sizes on the road, this comes with its own dangers. I don't know how likely it is to be hit by a falling branch - clearly not very likely but it does happen and at times I do wonder.

Anyway, I got through it all without a scrape and a few more miles in the legs. I think my recent adjustments to my training worked very well. I still try to run a bit faster once a week but no longer at 7:10 pace and HR 160, more at 7:30 pace and HR 150, which leaves the body in much better condition and doesn't require two recovery days on stiff and tired legs. I'm pretty much back to the base training MC had me do - it only took me about 4.5 years to work that out for myself.

Abigail's yellow weather warning had only been in place until Friday morning but unfortunately the next one fit in seamlessly. The plan had been to run over the Windy Gap on Saturday but I was not sure how safe that would have been in those conditions and pored over the map for an alternative. I like to think I found a pretty good one - 4 loops of a hilly run with a very steep road for climbing and a gentler one for descending and the overall elevation change was similar to what the mountain run would have been like. Conditions were testing at times - at one point I thought it may have been hailstoning but it was just the rain being blown sideways with quite some force by the rather strong wind. The legs, however, handled it all pretty well - I must have been building up some decent amount of leg strength by now.

An unusual amount of procrastination brought some unexpected and undeserved rewards on Sunday. After looking out of the window for an hour until finally putting on the shoes and going for a run I realised that the rain had unexpectedly pretty much died down. The wind was still here, of course, but that was never going to go away today. I made it unnecessarily hard for myself by running too fast over the first half. Two or three times I consciously slowed down but each time the legs spun up again as soon as I stopped paying attention. I paid the price for that towards the end and the last 4, 5 miles sucked more than they had to.

Even so, it was a pretty good week of training. I managed over 83 miles and the pace is moving towards 8-minute miles on my easy runs.

12 Nov

10 miles, 1:21:10, 8:07 pace, HR 146

13 Nov

12 miles, 1:37:10, 8:06 pace, HR 144

14 Nov

12.6 miles, 1:43:59, 8:15 pace, HR 149

   very hilly

15 Nov

17 miles, 2:16:39, 8:02 pace, HR 146

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

Pleasantly Tired

With the back-to-back marathons still only a week ago I had a fairly low mileage weekend. I wasn't even remotely tempted by the 3-in-2 weekend in Ballina, but kudos to all who did that one. I opted for a couple of back-to-back workouts instead.

After an easy Friday I was ready for a few faster miles on Saturday. Normally that would have meant a 10 mile loop through Killorglin with 8 miles at tempo pace, but we had a yellow wind warning and the strong gale force winds would have meant 5 miles where 6-minute miles would have felt reasonably easy and 5 miles home where 8-minute miles would have been a challenge, so I opted for a different workout.

The Ard-na-Sidhe road always provides a little bit of shelter, at the very least it takes the worst of the sting out of the wind. It is just over a mile long which makes it suitable for mile repeats but it's not particularly flat which makes it a bit more challenging. I ran 2 miles in each direction, with the odd numbered ones with the wind but slightly uphill and the even numbered ones against the wind but slightly downhill, though the wind was so strong that it definitely had a greater effect than the gradient that day.

6:13 (168), 6:19 (171), 6:17 (170), 6:18 (166)

I got the first two slightly wrong by running too hard, especially towards the end, but the last two felt just spot on, just the right intensity level I wanted to hit. I don't do a lot of speedwork, usually just 2 or 3 sessions closer to a race when I want to sharpen up, and I never try to give it my all. Running their speed workouts too hard is one of the most common mistakes runners make and I generally try to avoid falling into the same trap myself.

The legs definitely felt the effort for the rest of the day and I binned an eventual second run that day. Playing with the kids was a better way to spend the Saturday in every regard possible.

On Sunday I ran up to Windy Gap again. It was an unexpectedly beautiful day, even if it was still fairly cold and windy nearer the top of the mountain, as the name implies. Two weeks ago I had felt like dying on that climb so I decided to run up once and see how I would feel, and only if all systems were green would I descend into Glenbeigh and tackle the mountain once more from the other side. I was actually surprised by how well I felt (I was tired but nothing like last time), so I did indeed do the second climb, alright. I didn't particularly push the effort, there is no need to do so on such a prolonged and very steep climb, and once more felt okay when I reached the top, though I was not at all tempted to add a third repeat.

The mileage over the weekend was only just a touch over 20 miles, which I'm sure is a lot less than most or all of my fellow competitors have been doing, but I feel more tired than if I had done a long run today. I did 52 miles last weekend and I'll do another marathon next week, so the long runs are there as well; this time was more a "quality" based weekend, though I hate that term.

I was still recovering from Limerick this week. Next week will see bigger mileage again.

6 Mar

8 miles, 1:02:54, 7:59 pace, HR 143

7 Mar

8.25 miles, 1:01:32, 7:27 pace, HR 155

   incl 4 x 1 miles in 6:13 (168), 6:19 (171), 6:17 (170), 6:18 (166)

8 Mar

12.15 miles, 1:53:54, 9:22 pace, HR 147

   Windy Gap x 2

Weekly Mileage: 61+

Rough

I'm starting to get neurotic about my training. I'm flip flopping between thinking that I need to do more as Turin is approaching rather rapidly and panicking about not getting enough recovery. To be honest, I'm not in a happy place right now.

It's not all bad. My cold is gone and nobody else in the family is sick, so for the time being I can look forward to a spell of being healthy. The legs, on the other hand, could be better. A lot better in fact. I tried to get them moving a bit over the weekend but had to conclude that the 50k from Donadea is still in there.

Niamh whisked me away from home for a day during the week, which was a lovely break. I almost left my running gear at home and only decided at the last moment to bring it after all. I did a few slow miles in Fota; the trails there were lovely at first except that I kept feeling the stones through my soles and eventually moved onto tarmaced roads, which felt more comfortable straight away. I guess I really am a road runner.

I took it easy again on Friday but on Saturday I had to bring Cian to Tralee and used the opportunity to run there that morning, which had the advantage of not having to get up quite so early. However, I clearly got ahead of myself on that run when trying to run 2x1 miles at a faster pace, about 6:30-ish. The main problem was that the first mile was right into a very strong headwind and by the end of it I was cooked. I did manage a decent enough time on the return leg without killing myself but that was because I now had a strong tailwind blowing me along. My original plan had been to tag another couple of miles to the end of that run, but the legs had turned to concrete and I left it at that.

I still had that run in there on Sunday of course, in addition to the 50k still making itself at home. The gale force wind and heavy rain didn't exactly spell encouragement but out I went, heading for Windy Gap because I concluded that I can only run there in daytime, which at this time of year means during the weekend. Even the first step was a struggle which only got worse when I reached the hills. Thankfully the rain subsided for a while, otherwise the wind would have blown it straight into my face and I was already struggling badly as it was. It might have been windy at home but further up there it was a lot worse and Windy Gap clearly lived up to its name. With the conditions and the already tired legs this quickly turned into one of the toughest run I've ever done. I wasn't sure if I would make it all the way to the top right until I actually got there, and when I finally made it I had to sit down on the nearest stone just to catch my breath and stop myself from collapsing, despite knowing that I could not stay there for long or I would start getting hypothermic very quickly.

I was not looking forward to the return journey, but that was actually very easy, with the wind blowing me home almost without effort. I really had to mind my footing though, it was rather treacherous, so much so that I kept slipping even in trail running shoes. I got home in one piece, thank goodness for that.

Ok, some more recovery is in store next week, I suppose.

19 Feb

6 miles, 52:59, 8:49 pace, HR 140

20 Feb

5 miles, 40:29, 8:05 pace, HR 141

21 Feb

8.25 miles, 1:03:29, 7:40 pace

22 Feb

10.7 miles, 1:42:40, 9:35 pace, HR 150

   Windy Gap

Weekly Mileage: 35 (!!!)

Dodged Yet Another Bullet

I knew there was trouble brewing. I awoke several times on Tuesday night with a sore throat, something that was still with me when I finally got up at around 6:30 in the morning. It was uncomfortable but not too bad, so I went ahead with the workout.

My very first thought on speedwork days used to be “oh no, speedwork!” but I wasn’t too bothered this time round; maybe because the workout didn’t seem too hard, especially after running 18-minute 5ks several times this year already. The plan, which originally came from my previous coach, was to run 6 half miles around 2:50-3:00 with 2 minutes of recovery. Perfectly doable.

I felt awkward and slow during the warm up but once I got going I was fine and the sore throat was completely forgotten. The workout went very well, I hit all the paces and was always in full control and reasonably relaxed.

2:56 (HR 156), 2:57 (160), 2:53 (163), 2:54 (165), 2:52 (164), 2:51 (169)

The last one was tougher than the previous ones but still nowhere near all-out. I was very happy with it and that’s not something I tend to say after intervals.

However, I did not feel great for the rest of the day with some cold coming on, and Niamh chided me for not wrapping up the day before when it was cold. I thought that kind of talking-to had stopped about 35 years ago when my mum gave up, but apparently not.

The sore throat was worse on Wednesday, and this time I seriously contemplated binning the run. What is there to gain from an easy run if you’re on the verge of being sick? Then I decided that I had no symptoms below the neck, my usual cut-off point, and that yesterday’s intervals had gone exceedingly well despite the sore throat and went out after all, but only for 6 easy miles. The HR monitor supports my decision I suppose, the HR was not elevated. If something had been properly wrong I would have expected to see a different value.

I guess I got away with it. I still felt some very minor discomfort this morning but it’s definitely a lot better, and I’m feeling perfectly fine otherwise. I did another mellow workout, 8 miles at 7-ish pace with a surge towards 6-minute-pace every mile for 0.3 - 0.4 miles before falling back to 7-minute pace, which felt like jogging after surging. Due to the strong gale force winds I did not take much notice of the actual pace and went by feel only, which was about 5:50 pace with the wind at my back and closer to 6:30 against the wind, and I cut the very last surge short with an eye on Saturday’s final 5k of the race series.

I have basically decided that I am tapering for Tralee already, so there won’t be any more real long runs. Ballycotton will be the last big workout, and I’ll do a few more faster but shorter runs, in the hope that it will make running at 6:30 – 6:40 pace feel easier.

My biggest worry for Tralee is that we will have to deal with winds like today. It would blow away any chances of a decent time, and it’s a factor I cannot control (so why worry?). I’ll need to get my head around this before race day.

19 Feb

7 miles, 50:14, 7:10 pace, HR 147
     6 half mile repeats: 2:56 (HR 156), 2:57 (160), 2:53 (163), 2:54 (165), 2:52 (164), 2:51 (169)

20 Feb

6 miles, 45:25, 7:34 pace, HR 138

21 Feb

8 miles, 54:57, 6:52 pace, HR 154

So Near And Yet So Far

I went into this race with unclear targets. It was not a goal race, not even close. I don't run goal races 3 weeks after a marathon. I did not taper for it, just took it easy for two days, otherwise I was training right through it. Nevertheless I was very much looking forward to it. Tom Enright and his crew always put on a fantastic event.

And yet, last year I had somehow managed to win this race, and a repeat would be nice. The plan was to run it as a training run, and if there was a chance of winning (which obviously depended more on who would turn up rather than my own performance) then push that little bit harder and see what happens.

I arrived in Sixmilebridge in good time and all we talked about were the freezing conditions, but we were sure we would be fine once we started moving. Time passed quickly and before I knew it we were at the start line. There were many familiar faces around, but no fast guys that I would have recognised.

Right at the start I took off together with Deirdre Finn, running 7:30 pace, exactly like last year. The main difference was that one other runner in a yellow top and red shorts was doing 7:00 miles and quickly opened a gap. I was undecided if I should go with him, but decided to wait and see, which would save me from putting out an effort that would unduly set back my training for Tralee, because Tralee was and still is my actual goal race and I did not want to compromise my preparations for that race.

There were 4 races going on today, the double-marathon runners had already been out for 3 hours by the time we started and the marathon and half-marathon runners would join us later on. The race course was very unusual, a 1-mile loop through Sixmilebridge, and included a hill that climbs by 17 or 18 meters. Over 30 miles that adds up to over 500 meters of elevation change, a rather significant number. I find 30 small hills much easier than a long, sustained climb, but opinion amongst runners remained firmly divided on that matter.

Photo by Jason Fahy

I got a bit of feedback from the double-marathon runners as I passed them, some telling me that the "other guy" was huffing and puffing up the hill and would blow up eventually, but I mostly kept an eye out for him myself, seeing that he gained 10-20 seconds per mile, while I spent the first 3 miles mostly chatting with Dee. Eventfully, going up the hill the fourth time, I decided to push a bit harder to make sure the gap to the leader would not grow too big. I wasn't worried about blowing up myself - after all, at that point there was only  one marathon left.

I initially gained back some distance, but on the fifth lap (or was it the sixth) I spent a minute chatting to Ray, the leader and eventual winner of the double-marathon, and when I took up the chase up again the guy in front had dropped from sight. I was confused, I couldn't understand how he had opened up such a gap all of a sudden, but decided to just keep a steady pace; if he blew up I would catch him later, if he was able to genuinely keep at 7:00 minute pace for 30 miles then all kudos to him.

According to the weather forecast the rain was supposed to hold off until after midday. We had started at 10 o'clock and I hoped I would have done most of the race by the time the rain arrived. Unfortunately it started drizzling about 45 minutes into the race, and by the time the marathon started at 11 it was already getting seriously wet. For the rest of the day there was to be no respite, the conditions got progressively worse. With the rain came the wind and the cold, eventually big puddles formed and by the end parts of the course were basically flooded. But hey, living in Kerry means I'm used to that.

Photo by Jason Fahy

The average pace on my Garmin dropped steadily, from 7:20 early on down to 7:03, 7:02 and 7:01 after a while. Obviously that means that I ran a few sub-7 miles, which I always felt was a bit fast for an ultra, but I was always quite comfortable, though I might indeed have blown up myself had I run any faster. Looking at the splits from the race results now, I can see that my adversary steadily ran a few seconds per lap faster, gaining about 10 seconds each time.

Unfortunately it was far from plain sailing, my stomach started acting up even before the 10 mile point. It was manageable at first, more like hunger pains, but it started cramping badly later on as the race progressed. I took 2 gels and a couple of sports drink, which I could stomach easily enough, but any more would have been pushing my luck.

I went going through the halfway point still feeling pretty good but as I was nearing the 20 mile mark I started slowing down, and my stomach took a turn for the worse. I considered going to the toilet each time I passed the GAA ground, but each time felt it might settle again and hoped that I would be able to finish before a pitstop became required.

Running laps and laps and laps of the same course means all events become jumbled in your memory, and it all blends into one. Early on I was chatty enough each time I passed another runner, later on I became quieter and quieter, and eventually I basically stopped talking altogether. That happens every time in similar circumstances, I can use my willingness to exchange a few words as a gauge of how fresh I am.

Getting close to the marathon  point I was really starting to suffer. The legs, while tired, were still holding up but the stomach was in knots. At one point Niall Campbell, who was stewarding, told me I was about 4 minutes behind the leader and he was slowing down, but I told him it didn't matter because I was f*cked myself (excuse my language). And still I kept running past the GAA ground without stopping.

Just as I about to finish the 26th mile I realised that I was slowing down so much that the runners I had just overtaken were going past me again. I basically admitted defeat in the race, and this time I stopped at the GAA ground for a pitstop. To be honest, it was very much needed, I would not have lasted another half hour.

I lost about 90 extra seconds in there, but as soon as I started running again I realised that I had my running legs back. Apparently my stomach cramps had sapped much of my energy, now with that problem out of the way I was able to speed up considerably, from 7:33 in lap 25 to 7:16 in lap 27 and 7:04 in 28. I passed the marathon in 3:09, despite the emergency stop, which actually makes this one of my faster marathons, despite the fact that I still had almost 4 miles to run at that point.

Chasing victory seemed futile, but I gave the race my best shot, more for my own satisfaction than a real conviction that I could actually win. The announcer at the finish line noticed it as well, he commented that I was looking strong again all of a sudden.

Going into the last lap I still could not see the leader, which means I was more than a minute behind him. Pointless. I still ran as fast as I could. Then, halfway through the lap, all of a sudden I could see him, for the first time in 25 miles, halfway up the hill just as I was at the bottom. I gave it my best shot, ran as fast as I could, but when he turned the corner at the top he still seemed too far ahead. When I reached that point myself he was much closer than I thought he would be and I gave chase with seemingly all that I had left.

I caught him with less than a quarter mile to go. For a couple of seconds the thought that I was going to win the race after all was filling my head, but then I heard him, cursing loudly and coming after me. I'm not sure if he was swearing directly at me (which would have been a bit severe, considering the kind of language he used), or at himself, or if it was just his way to pump himself up for the finish, but he caught me again, still cursing loudly. I was slow to react and let him go past instead of trying properly to hold him off and all of a sudden I found myself a couple of meters behind again, with next to nothing left in the race.

29.99 miles into it. Photos by Sean Power

Sprinting was never my forte, I have absolutely no natural speed, and despite giving it all I was up against it. I can't say I didn't try, and I might even have managed to close the gap a little bit at the end but it was futile and now I know what it feels like to be losing out by a whisker.

I lay on the ground, completely exhausted and in utter disbelief of what had just happened. Ultra races are not decided in a sprint finish! But here we were, him celebrating, me sucking oxygen into desperately empty lungs as if through a straw. Eventually he helped me up and we gave each other a (manly) hug, each acknowledging the other's effort.

Race over, friends again!

All finish line photos kindly provided by Sean Power.

It was only then that I could ask his name and found out that my conqueror was called Fergus McCarthy, up to then he had just been that nameless competitor up front.

Obviously I was disappointed to have missed out on a rare victory by the smallest of margins, but I could live with that. I had a warm shower but started shaking and shivering. As I went back towards the tent at the finish, Tom Enright took one look at me and immediately dragged me off to the ambulance where I spent the next 10 or 15 minuted recovering from mild hypothermia. Eventually the shivering stopped and a few minutes later I was feeling sufficiently recovered to leave. I didn't hang around much longer, though. The freezing cold, rain and wind were still there and I was better off making an exit with the car's heating turned up full blast.

I had plenty of time thinking about the race since. This was a race I definitely could have won. I'm not blaming my lack of speed - I could have avoided a sprint finish. It was a tactical mistake to let Fergus go at the start. I have learned last year that holding a commanding lead in a race gives you a big boost, and I handed that boost to him on a plate. When I started chasing him I should have done so with more conviction rather that keeping a steady pace and hoping that he would eventually blow up.

Most of all, I should have set a clear target. Either treat a race as a training run and leave it at that, or decide that you are going for the win, but do not mix the two. Trying to win without giving it your best shot is a stupid tactic, and just because I managed to win last year did not mean a repeat performance was on the cards. In light of that, I'm happy enough that I came second - I did not deserve first place. If the opportunity will come again I do not know, but should it ever do so then I will be better prepared, tactically as well as mentally.

Sixmilebridge has not seen the last of me.

18 Nov

Eddie Murphy memorial race, 30 miles
3:35:46, 7:11 pace, HR 158, second place

Dog Days

Following Sunday's race, Monday was of course an easy day. I ran towards UCD/Belfield because I had read somewhere that they have created a few nice running trails within the university grounds and I spent the best part of 6 miles trying to find them. What I found were a few disjointed pieces of trail, all of whom very nice on their own but never more than half a mile in length, most of them significantly shorter. Ah well.

This morning I thought I'd use my last day in Dublin to do an evaluation workout the way it was originally intended, namely on a track. There is a dirt track in Kilbogget Park, 4 miles from Stillorgan, perfect for a good warm/up and cool/down.

The blustery wind meant this was never going to be ideal, but the idea of doing 4 even miles without all those sharp 180 degree turns every half mile was too good to miss. Once I started it was immediately clear that the wind would have some major influence and the numbers might be meaningless as a result, but I persevered. All went ok for 11 laps. Than I heard some effing and blinding, obviously coming from the owner of that dog heading my way at full speed. I wasn't concerned - dog encounters are frequent enough when you're a runner. I can tell if a dog is aggressive or wants to play and I have no problems with it jumping up on my side; it's been happening countless times before. What doesn't usually happen is that the dog crosses right in front of me, tripping me up. He even had the perfect size to be a real hazard like that, and he came back for a repeat again and again. After very nearly faceplanting three times in less than 50 meters, I shoved the dog to the side with my leg, which gave me some space. When I saw the dog's owner running towards me, I fully expected him to apologize, which just shows how naive I am in the daily battle between jogger and dog owner in Ireland's capital.

He was handicapped by the fact that he was several stone overweight, which meant he was completely out of breath when he caught up to me. It took him 2 tries to say something, and I was rather taken aback when instead of an apology he screamed at me for kicking his dog. I could of course have explained to him that I had merely shoved the dog aside in a reasonable gentle way, an explanation that was supported by the fact that the dog hadn't yelped or made any other noise, but I was still trying to run my evaluation at sub-7 pace and the other guy didn't give the impression that he was overly interested in a calm, collected conversation, so I just mumbled something about trying not to get bitten, which was really lame, I admit, as I fully knew the dog was only playing. By then the guy had already reached the end of his anaerobic capabilities and the conversation ended fairly promptly.

Unfortunately, the encounter had been sufficient to drive my HR up by 10 beats, and when you happen to be in the middle of a workout that's based on running at an even heart rate, that's it for said workout. I kept going for the last mile, trying to keep the effort at the same level it had been for the first 3 miles, but the HR never came back, and it also meant my recovery to 130 after the workout was totally out as well as it took over 50 seconds. I was seriously pissed off. Pumped up as I was with adrenaline I was highly tempted to chase after the fat wanker and give him a piece of mind, but as he had gone the opposite way I instead turned back towards Stillorgan, eventually calming down after a few more miles, which saved the world from yet another, entirely useless and unproductive encounter.

I can't even be bothered to look at the individual mile splits from the evaluation. To be honest, the blustery wind might have made them useless anyway. Isn't it ironic that of all the places I had been running in, the one where I had been hampered the most was an actual running track!

2 Jan

10 miles, 1:20:03, 8:00 pace, HR 141

3 Jan

12 miles, 1:27:17, 7:16 pace, HR 153
   botched eval, 4 miles @ 6:59, 50 sec recovery

Equinox

The legs felt surprisingly good on Monday. I expected them to be rather heavy after some hard running over the weekend, but was pleasantly surprised. I still took it easy. Two days easy after back-to-back workouts are an absolute must; recovery takes time, especially when you're well past your 30s. But I felt very good and 7:40 pace has rarely come so easily.

I had another workout in store for Wednesday. When training for Vienna, the coach twice gave me special workouts that he called volume repeats. They work like other repeats, except that you don't really get much recovery, the pace during the slower parts is still on the challenging side. That's a great workout to see what shape you're in because there is no way to fake it. If you're running too fast, it will show.

The idea was to run 2 miles at 6:30, 2 miles at 6:20 and 2 more miles faster still as long as I could maintain full control, with a mile at about 7:15 pace between each effort. Unfortunately, as soon as I left home I knew the 20-25 mph wind would be making the pacing impossible, so I decided I had to run by feel alone. The heart rate would provide some feedback, but I don't like checking the HR too often when running at 6:30 pace or so, I need all my concentration on the effort.

The first repeat was with the wind at the back, so I figured the pace should be in the 6:20s. Well, it was early in the morning and I was not quite awake yet, which is the only way I can explain why I started the first quarter mile at 6:05 pace. The pace was a bit uneven after that but on average ended up right where I wanted it. The second repeat was straight into the gale force. I kept the effort honest, making sure I would not look at the Garmin as I knew the pace figure would be demoralising. Even the slow mile after that was tough, the HR hardly dropped despite the slow pace. The last repeat was still into the wind but at least it was net downhill which compensated a little bit. I ran the final half mile too hard, that was more a race effort than a training effort, but all in all I was reasonably happy with the numbers. I now have 10 days to recover from this before Valentia. That should do. In March, the coach had me do a similar workout 4 days before Ballycotton and I ran an absolute stormer there.

19 Sep

8 miles, 1:01:27, 7:40 pace, HR 145

20 Sep

10 miles, 1:18:11, 7:49 pace, HR 143

21 Sep

11 miles, 1:17:03, 7:00 pace, HR 162
   w/u, 2 miles 6:23 (163), 1 mile 7:14 (159), 2 miles 6:48 (170), 1 mile 7:33 (167), 2 miles 6:23 (173), c/d

A Quick One

I've just realised that I have not updated this blog for 3 days and now it's late and this will be a short entry. Stop celebrating, Ewen!

The main problem is still my knee and it will remain the main problem for a while, no doubt about that. I have started wearing the knee support for 24 hours a day rather than just when I'm running. This seems to make a real difference. The problem with this, and also the reason why I haven't done it all along, is that the strap keeps rubbing against the inside of my knee. Last week I basically ended up with an open sore after the top layer of my skin had been rubbed off bit by bit, and that was as uncomfortable as it sounds. I have started putting moleskin on the sore spot which seems to help but needs to be replaced every day and I'm still on the lookout for a better solution.

I have tried two different knee straps, one is slightly more comfortable but the other one provides more compression and that's what I'm after.

Yesterday was the first day in ages when I felt the knee hardly at all. I was really happy about this and thought there was real progress, but today was one of the bad days again and I'm back to square one. As uncomfortable as the knee is at times, it's just not painful enough to convince me to stop running and it does not seem to be getting any worse.

The other thing driving me nuts is the weather. We've had gale force winds every day bar one over the last 5 weeks and it is really starting to get to me (I'm not the only one complaining, believe me). The one exception to this was yesterday, and that provided its own piece of fun. On the cycle home it was sunny, then raining, followed by hailstones, rain, sun and rain again, all within 15 minutes!

And I've just gotten my credit card bill, which includes a lot of the expenses from Vienna. 3000 Euro. Whoops! There goes the plan for ... anything, really. Anyone keen to sponsor a desperate marathon runner?

23 May

6 miles, 45:43, 7:37 pace, HR 151

24 May

10 miles, 1:15:29, 7:33 pace, HR 155

25 May

8 miles, 1:01:16, 7:39 pace, HR 152

Fresh and Breezy, Scattered Showers

Being a meteorologist in Ireland must be one of the easier jobs in the world, the above seems to apply 90% of the time and it sure has for the last couple of weeks. I have been reasonably lucky with the rain, Monday was the only day I got thoroughly drenched during a run (though Tuesday I got caught on the bike), but there is no escaping the wind. I even abandoned the otherwise flat and easy Killorglin loop as at the moment that entails running 3 miles into a relentless headwind and somehow that seems to aggravate my knee. That, and running either uphill or downhill. In theory a treadmill might be the best option for me at the moment, but I think I’d rather cut off my leg than suffer through that.

I keep having good and bad days with the knee. Monday was a bad day; after 6 miles I was in agony and went on to moan my way through the next 2 miles, but things improved once I had worked my way through that bad patch. Last week I was running with a knee strap, which definitely made a difference, but unfortunately it also rubbed against the back of my knee. Last Thursday or Friday I finally checked the area and was slightly shocked. We’re not talking about chafing any more, it was basically an open sore and extremely painful to the touch. I left the knee strap at home for a few days, which helped with the open wound but not the injured ligament. Yesterday I started using the strap again and immediately noticed a difference. It’s a balancing act, and so far I’ve just about managed to stay on top.

By now I can hear plenty of you screaming, stop running you idiot. Thing is, I may be stupid but not THAT stupid. If I thought it was a running injury I would have stopped a long while ago. But I'm pretty sure it’s not, and that’s not just wishful thinking. In addition to that, I’m not too keen on going to a doctor. On past experience he/she would send me home after a few questions and plenty of prodding with a prescription for pain killers and the advice to stop running. I could buy pain killers in the pharmacy without prescription if I wanted and paying €50 for advice I’d ignore anyway just does not seem worthwhile.

For treatment I’m doing icing, even though there’s no swelling, so that may well be useless but I suppose it does not do any harm. I'm elevating the knee when I can, and I try not to jump up and down like a deranged lunatic, except when Spurs generously score an own goal to send us into the Champions League. The one thing I think might make the biggest difference was to remove the swivel chair from my desk and replace it with a normal one. Seriously.

And, since you asked, one more thing:

I was just wondering for your opinion on how influential or beneficial your decision to get an online running coach was in achieving your goal. What did you learn most from his input and what are your views on proper, structured coaching?

I am absolutely sure that I would not have broken three hours in the marathon without the coach’s help, so I think it is definitely worthwhile getting a good coach. Only problem is, I think most online coaches are useless, and it’s the “good” bit that you need to get right. There are some good books on running and they will get you pretty far, but to reach your potential you will need a coach that knows what he’s doing and that you trust fully. What did I learn from him? A lot, not least the understanding that there is still a ton of stuff I still do not know about running.

9 May

10 miles, 1:19:06, 7:55 pace, HR 142

10 May

10 miles, 1:16:15, 7:37 pace, HR 152

11 May

10 miles, 1:16:20, 7:38 pace, HR 149

Blame It On The Rain

This was certainly an interesting week. We had the cheating Frenchmen with plenty of fallout that is only just starting to subside, my office has moved yet again, for the third time in 6 years, and of course we've had the rain.

This time the weather Gods really mean business. When I had been whining about wind and rain in the past I had no idea what a week of sustained stormy weather is really like. We don't get hurricanes in these parts but this is the next best thing. Half the country is flooded (the western half, to be precise), half of Cork City is without running water for at least one week, and for once all that is not an exaggeration. When I drove to Killarney this morning the river Laune was so high you could only tell its original course by the trees lining it. The shore line itself has been totally washed out and everything close to it is under water.

I guess I was sorta lucky yesterday when I managed to get out early in the morning for 5 miles. It was raining buckets but there seemed to be a lull in the wind when I took the opportunity. Of course, had I waiting for 2 hours I would have enjoyed running in the unexpected sunshine. On the other hand, had I left it 2 further hours the thunderstorm would have surprised (and scared) me right in the middle.

Even so, I didn't feel great. The hamstrings were as tight as piano strings, and I cannot really explain why my heart rate was higher than on Friday, despite running only half the distance and a good bit slower. I cannot blame the Dublin marathon forever.

When I wrote last weeks race report, making out how I did not race, I had no idea that this would be followed by a far more literal non-race. I was already in Killarney this morning, doing a swim to practice for my next lesson when I got a text message that today's race was cancelled. Apparently all three possible race courses were under water, which didn't come as much of a surprise. At least I did not have to worry about racing after tiring myself out in the pool. There is something very unnatural about swimming for someone who is used to running: the fact that you basically have to hold your breath for half the workout doesn't come easily.

It was not a wasted trip as I had to go shopping anyway, but any hopes I had of sneaking in a run after my return were thwarted by the storm outside our window. Eventually I hooked up my bike onto the indoor trainer and spun for 45 minutes. That was my longest “bike ride” yet, and it's still nowhere near proper training. But it bet twiddling my thumps hands down.

They just promised some improvement for tomorrow morning. Great! Let's hope they are right. I might not be in training right now, but the low mileage is starting to worry me a bit. 26 miles this week, that's next to nothing. The last time I was was doing so few miles I was bed-ridden with pneumonia.

21 Nov

5 miles, 40:17, 8:03 pace, HR 156

22 Nov

0 miles. 25 min swim, 45 min bike, HR 155

If you add my weekend activities together it's almost a triathlon.

End of Week Report

I love running, and for as long as I can I will continue running. But that doesn’t mean I don’t get frustrated from time to time.

The weather recently has been shite as we say around here, excuse my language. A few weeks ago that amount of wind would have sent me to the elves of the Ard-na-Sidhe road, but I decided to be less of a softy and face the conditions head-on on the Caragh Lake road. It’s never as bad as it sounds anyway. The road is still somewhat sheltered by two mountains, Seefin and Callahaniska, but there is one corner where the wind comes through the gap between the two of them and you get some kind of funnel effect. I’ve named that stretch “Windy Corner”, and twice on the last few days the wall of wind hit me so suddenly that it quite literally took my breath away. Today was particularly bad; I had seriously considered the Ard-na-Sidhe road, but running up and down the same stretch of road 3 times in each direction just doesn’t have that much of an appeal to me. I might have reconsidered had I known that by mile 1.5 I would be caught in a short but sharp rain shower. That happened a second time, around the 5-mile mark, when it rained so heavily that I was soaked right through within seconds.

The little bits of technology I keep carrying around are even more frustrating. The Garmin’s chest strap has finally given up completely, and I’ve been wearing the Polar HR as well as the Garmin on my recent runs. The biggest problem I have is remembering to press the start and stop buttons on both devices. That won't be a problem in the future because by now the Polar has finally given up the ghost as well. At least I have finally managed to purchase a replacement battery for the Garmin. Let’s hope this will solve the problem from tomorrow on.

I have noticed an improvement in my paces recently, but with the lack of a proper HR monitor this might have been the result of me inadvertently crossing my self-imposed threshold. But my runs are still all of the easy variety. I will keep building my mileage for the next two weeks, and then the proper aerobic base training phase will commence. I’m looking forward to a few faster runs already.

My legs will get a faster workout before that though, because there is a 10k race in Killorglin next Saturday. It does not fit into my training schedule and I certainly won’t be in my best 10k shape, but with a race so nearby I can’t possibly refuse participation.

The weekend has been stressful. Niamh had some work to do on Saturday and had to leave at 8:30, which meant I had to get up early for my run, and then I had to mind our entire unruly brood on my own. I still managed to bake my most complicated dinner ever, which went down extremely well. Unfortunately Niamh forgot to reset the alarm clock, and since it woke not only us but also the boys it meant yet another early morning. At least it enabled me to have time for some clandestine shopping; Cian’s birthday is in a fortnight, and I managed to track down the perfect present. I’m almost as excited as he is.

20 Nov

10 miles, 1:22:49, 8:17 pace, HR 148

21 Nov

9 miles, 1:13:54, 8:13 pace, HR 146

22 Nov

7 miles, 57:06, 8:10 pace, HR ???

23 Nov

9 miles, 1:12:26, 8:03 pace, HR ???

Weekly mileage: 63+

After the Race

Thanks everyone for the nice comments, they are all very much appreciated. The more I think about the race the happier I am with it. McMillan's running calculator has this as my best race ever, but the WAVA calculator rates it slightly less than the 10k I ran last year in Adare. When I crossed the finishing line I was disappointed to miss 65 minutes, but I have come to the conclusion that it was never on the cards. It all comes back to the pneumonia.6 weeks is not a lot of training by any means, and taking that into account I think I ran as well as I could. I have been wondering if I could have kept up with Grellan and Brendan when they pulled away from me at 3.5 miles, but looking at my heart rate chart tells me that my heart rate was already way too high. It had gone all the way up to 187 on the second mile, 97% of my max, and so far higher than is recommended for a 10 miler, it's off the scale. In light of that I'm surprised I managed to hold on as well as I did.

Grellan pointed out that I am on one of the race photos after all, a rather dark one though. I'm the one in the yellow singlet, Brendan is two steps in front of me. It must have been taken around the 3 mile marker, probably just as I was realising that I was falling apart.

Since this was only a preparation race for Connemara, I didn't hang around for recovery either. My first plan was to run a long run on Monday, following the possibly dumb theory that running on tired legs is good ultra training. However, the weather forecast had left no doubts, there were storms of serious magnitude on the way, and I wondered if I would be able to run at all. I woke at 5:30m which would have been enough time for 15 miles and turned around straight away, the wind and rain sounded just brutal. I did get up about an hour later and braved the elements for 7.5 miles. The legs were just as stiff as expected, but I managed ok. So much so, in fact, that I added 4 miles at lunchtime on the treadmill in the gym, while watching the world almost get blown apart outside.

The wind was even worse today, but I was determined to get my workout done anyway. The sound of the rain was discouraging as I was about to venture out, so I waited 5 minutes, and luck was on my side as the rain gradually lessened, enough to be able to go out. By some miracle I managed to avoid all puddles on our driveway and went on my way relatively dry. Unfortunately by mile 5 a torrential downpour started, and within half a minute I was soaked to the bones. I contemplated turning back home after the first loop, but just as I reached the junction in question the rain stopped again, and I headed towards the second loop. The wind never ceased, and it was bad, no doubts about it. I looked up the data in the weather pages afterwards, and it reported gusts of up to 100km/h (62mph). I don't think I had to face gales quite as bad as that, but it was challenging all the same. It seemed to brighten up later on and I cycled to work, but in the afternoon Niamh called me and basically forbade me to cycle home, it was too dangerous. She gave me a lift instead. The conditions are finally supposed to improve during the day tomorrow.

I'm planning a long training run on Saturday, or maybe Sunday. One of those runs only ultra runners do, 4 hours or so, slowly, just spending time on the feet. First I need to convince Niamh, and then I have to hope for better weather. The forecast is unsure, it depends on who you believe.

The heart rate for the runs since the race has been really low. I have noticed that phenomenon before; after each race my heart rate drops a level. I think that's a good thing. I would race more often if there were more races available.

10 Mar

am: 7.5 miles, 1:05:47, 8:46 pace, HR 140
pm: 4 miles, 34:40, 8:40 pace, treadmill

11 Mar

14.1 miles, 2:00:31, 8:32 pace, HR 138