Training Camp

It was Saturday morning, exactly 10 o’clock that I waved Niamh and the kids good-bye. They were on their way to Dublin for an entire week, leaving me to fend on my own for 9 days. Freed from the shackles of family life, I fully intend on doing what every other married man with children would do in the same situation: I will run a lot!*

This week will be my Dingle Ultra training camp, but unfortunately and highly inconveniently I still have to go to work from Monday to Friday. I still have one wife, four children, one mortgage and one racing habit to maintain, and neither of those comes cheap.

As Maia very rightly pointed out, “Daddy has to stay home to do running and working.” She might only be 2, but she’s clearly clued up.

Anyway, 5 minutes after the car had gone down the driveway I followed along the same route myself. I was keen to get going because the weather forecast was not promising and as I was heading into the mountains I intended to make the best of the last few dry hours. I headed up to the Kerry Way, the closest point of which is just over 2 miles from home, and headed towards Windy Gap. I was completely caught by surprise by the fact that the Rás na Ríochta adventure race was on at the same time and I encountered a few dozen mountain bikers over the next 4 miles, first the ones from the mini-version, but shortly after crossing my first mountain pass** of the day at Windy Gap the leaders of the real race came along. I was completely taken by surprise by the fact that the second rider greeted me with “hello Thomas, marathon man”, and he was gone before I had recovered from the shock of being recognised. I had only barely been aware that the race would be on that day and since I never looked at the race map I did not know that I would be running along the course. I would have chosen a different route had I known. In the end it didn’t really matter and I didn’t interfere with anyone’s race.

Anyway, after Windy Gap the road dropped all the way down to sea level, first on a very stony trail, then on a small road. After Glenbeigh and Rosbeigh there was a mile of single track before another couple of miles on the road uphill to Mountain Stage and then the best part of the day, a few miles along the slopes of Drung Hill, 800 feet above the sea (and 700 feet above the main road) with views to die for, along the Iveragh peninsula and across the bay towards Dingle. The photos really don’t do it more than 1% justice. Oh yes, I did carry a camera in my waist pack. After last Saturday I decided not to pile too much stuff into my short pockets any more and brought a little waist pack, and since there was some extra space I brought the camera along with me. Don’t expect it to be a regular occurrence, though. I even had my mobile with me and sent a few pictures to Niamh while she was on her journey.

Anyway, after crossing another mountain pass beyond Drung and about 15 miles and 2:18 into the run I reached a little sign that I took as the turnaround point. I intended to cut out Windy Gap on my way home, and the shorter return journey should give me roughly 4 hours of running, or so I thought. My main problem was that despite rationing my drink, my only bottle was now empty. Unless I took a detour I was at least 5 miles from the next house and I was getting rather thirsty, so eventually I re-filled my bottle from a stream. I had encountered plenty of water, but with loads of sheep within the vicinity I did not trust the water. This little stream came out of a forest straight down the mountain and I decided to take the risk. The yellow-brownish colour was not too appealing, but the peat surface meant this in itself was not a bad sign. I retraced my footsteps back towards Mountain Stage and then towards Glenbeigh. I was getting really tired now. It probably was not just the miles but the vertical gains and drops that killed my quads and I was really struggling. A gel revived me sufficiently to make it to Glenbeigh, but I had to fight some serious nausea; I wondered if the water was responsible for that. When I finally made it into Glenbeigh itself I stopped by the Tower Hotel where they graciously re-filled my (empty again) bottle. I was so thirsty that I finished two-thirds of it before I had even left the premises, but decided that I would make the last 4 miles home without another top-up. I surprisingly managed to tune into The Zone for the rest of the run and made it home after 27.5 miles in 4:17:08, about 20 of them off-road, completely and utterly exhausted and aching just about everywhere. I stepped on the scales to find that my weight had dropped from 152.8 pounds pre-run to 148, a loss of just under 5 pounds. Considering that you can expect to lose 4 pounds from depleted glycogen stores alone, this was better than expected, about 3% weight loss. After feeling so dehydrated I had expected a much greater loss. I was no good for anything for the rest of the day, just slumped on the sofa watching the Tour de France. These guys are spending 4+ hours on the bike day after day, but at least their sport is not weight bearing. I did wonder how I was supposed to run again tomorrow, aching as I was all over. In hindsight I had started out too fast, but what’s done is done.

I slept less than expected and was up well before 8 o’clock, only to find that the weather forecast had been wrong and the rain had not moved on overnight. I did plenty of housework (yes, I’m a domesticated man, me) despite my sore legs, and by 10:30 got fed up with waiting for better conditions and got ready to head out again. The plan for the weekend had been 4 hours on Saturday and 3:30 on Sunday, but my legs were so sore I decided to cut it short. However, to ensure that I would not take it too easy I did the loop around Caragh Lake, which would give me 16.5 miles without the opportunity of bailing out early, which I guessed would be a good thing. I briefly wondered if it was really such a good idea heading out with already weary legs, but of course that was pretty much the entire point of today’s run. I took it very slowly, not even doing 9-minute miles. By mile 3 I reached the base of the first hill and surprisingly it got easier from then on as I tuned into The Zone again, where I have spent a surprising amount of time recently. The weather didn’t help, the wind blew the rain straight into my face but I hardly noticed. The uphills were fine, but the legs were on fire on the downhills and I really had to stop myself from moaning loudly. A flatter route would have been much easier today, but again, putting myself through the wringer was the entire point of that run. I felt really bad after about 11 miles, but a gel at that point had amazing effects and revived me so much that I didn’t even mind running out of drink again a few miles short of home.

As soon as I got home I emptied an entire bottle of sports drink in one go. Then I got into the house, refilled my water bottle … and headed out for another 6 miles. I’m not sure what possessed me at that point, but I thought it would be neat to cover 50 miles over the weekend and I was 6 miles short. On the way to the turnaround point I was surprised to see that my pace had declined all the way to 10-minute miles, but I guess for an Ultra runner that’s not a bad pace to train in. After turning around 3 miles later I decided to end my dead man’s shuffle and stride out a bit more, which immediately dropped the pace to about 8:30, very slowly accelerating further. I was still hurting, but it felt good to feel like a runner again. I had noticed that my form had deteriorated badly whenever I was not concentrating; I was running hunched over, taking short steps, looking like an old man. It took conscious effort to straighten up, but over the last few miles I could feel the form improving again. The last mile was much faster again as I could smell the barn, and even the downhills hurt a lot less that way. The schedule had suggested running the last hour at marathon pace, but that was cloud cuckoo land nonsense and never going to happen. I surprised myself by managing the last mile at that pace, but that was it.

These were by far the hardest back-to-back training runs I’ve ever done but surprisingly I felt much better than the day before. A week ago I had gotten cocky by running almost 30 miles feeling really good and this weekend has brought me back down to earth. Ultra running is tough, after all it’s supposed to be hard, and a lesson in humility was well needed. Somehow I don’t think the mile repeats are going to happen next week. Instead I’ll try and recover over the next 5 days to do it all over again. Eventually I hope to get the hang of it.

Btw, in case someone is interested, I deliberately kept the nutrition on the low side to get my body used to running in a depleted state. On Saturday I took 500 ml of Amino, about 800 ml of water and 2 gels (318 calories). On Sunday I took 500 ml of Amino, 500 ml of sports drink, 500 ml of water and one gel (373 calories).

Weight: Saturday: pre-run 152.8, post-run 148
Sunday: pre-run 150, post-run 148.2

* no, there’s no need to comment on that particular point
** yes, I use the term rather loosely. Anything over 1000 feet is a mountain pass here.

17 Jul

27.5 miles, 4:17:08, 9:21 pace, HR 147

18 Jul

22.67 miles, 3:31:30, 9:19 pace, HR 140

Another Short One for Ewen’s Benefit

One thing I learnt on Saturday was that I like running long more than running fast. I guess that’s why I’m drawn to Ultras. Cruising along at 8:30 pace I felt like I could continue doing so all day. That’s obviously not the case, but I did cover almost 30 miles without even feeling particularly tired. It bodes well for Dingle, but there’s more to it. I wonder if I have lost my competitive edge as far as races up to the marathon are concerned. That does seem to happen to most runners as they get older, but I was not aware that I might have reached the stage already. I still want to chase a better marathon time, but will I have the willpower to do all those tempo runs and intervals week after week, when my first thought of each and every one of these days will be “oh no, speedwork!”?

I only did one run over the last 2 days, namely a set of mile repeats on Thursday. I did the 10-mile pace runs I had missed out on Tuesday. It was very windy, so I changed my original plan of running alongside my usual route and went towards Ard-na-Sidhe instead. The trees there don’t provide much shelter, but enough to take the worst out of it. The repeats were a bit uneven; against the wind was s good bit slower than the other way, unsurprisingly. Running back and forwards on the same stretch of road I met a couple walking in the rain 4 times and another fella 3 times. It was starting to get embarrassing, but thankfully I was done before I our roads crossed yet another time.

I didn’t set the alarm for today, just resolved to go running if I woke up in time, which I expected to do. I didn’t. The rest day, as stated in the schedule, did indeed happen.

Yesterday evening when cycling home from work, my rear tire exploded. Thankfully it happened close to home and on an uphill stretch. I don’t want to think how it might have ended had it happened 30 seconds earlier on the opposing downhill stretch, so I guess I was lucky. I even had all the needed replacement parts at home and I managed to fix it without swearing loudly (Niamh usually insists I fix the bike out of earshot of the children). My mechanic skills must be improving.

After a dry and sunny first half of the year, the wind and rain have returned, and everyone is resigned to it already. It feels like business as usual, after the last 3 horrible, rainy summers we’ve had. Just a bit of sunshine every now and again makes such a difference. I really hope the present set of rain fronts is just temporary. Ironically, the rest of Europe is experiencing a massive heat wave. It’s just here that we seem to be in a different world altogether.

15 Jul

8 miles, 58:32, 7:18 pace, HR 160
4x1 mile @ 6:39, 6:29, 6:29, 6:26

Moving Swiftly On

Running a marathon at 8:21 pace has the distinctive advantage of not requiring any real time for recovery. I went out for 5 miles on Sunday feeling perfectly fine, but I did spare a thought for Gerry and Ken; running another marathon would not have been at the top of my wish list that day; it reinforced the magnitude of their undertaking and I am even more in awe of the lads now. I’m glad to read that things are improving for Ken; after Saturday I had great doubts if he would be able to continue, but it looks like he’s pulling through.

I followed the weekend with another easy run on Monday, and then I started thinking about my training. Ever since Connemara in April I have not been training but recovering, first from that Ultra and then from the Cork marathon. With less than 8 weeks until Dingle, it is high time to get serious again. I found a training schedule on Runner’s World, possibly the first ever piece of information from that source that I have looked at (not true, I liked the core workout videos as well). I printed it out and hung it on my wall, though of course I’m jumping in halfway through the program. But since I have just managed to run a marathon without feeling tired I think I should be fit enough to keep up.

Niamh took one look at the schedule and said “I’m going to be a running widow!”. That’s true to some part; for the first time since taking up running 6 years ago I intend to do my long runs on the weekend. Running 5-hour long runs before work just isn’t feasible, not even for me. But Niamh and the kids will be in Dublin for the next 2 weekends and there will be a taper later on, so the really long family-abandoning runs will be limited to about 4 weekends, which I can justify, both to Niamh and to myself.

Then she took a second look and theatrically proclaimed “What’s this? Do my eyes deceive me? What’s the meaning of the word ‘rest’?”, at which point I obviously pointed out that this schedule would be only a rough guideline, not to be followed slavishly. Actually, now looking at it in a bit more detail, it isn’t all that impressive. The weekdays are pretty much the same all the way through. Instead of following to the letter I will try and listen to my body and adapt training accordingly.

Tuesday called for a set of repeats, and since I had not looked at the program properly I thought it would be miles at marathon pace when they should have been at 10-mile pace. Never mind, 3 days after a marathon this felt fast enough as it was. I did 7 repeats, and the target was my (Garmin-adjusted) pace from the Cork marathon of 7:15. What I did was 7:04, 7:07, 7:00, 7:07, 7:20, 7:20, 6:58, which was just a tad fast, but the differences between each repeat closely match the elevation profile and the effort was very constant. I might do a few faster miles tomorrow to make up for the mix-up but will see how the legs feel first.

I followed this up with another easy run this morning. The thought of a couple of long runs on the weekend ensured that I kept the effort very, very easy. That’s a good thing, and I hope I can keep this going for all of my recovery runs. I suspect they have often been too fast in the past, leading to less than ideal workouts. Then again, I also suspect this is a very common mistake amongst runners.

My resting HR was 43 this morning, a good bit higher than the 39 I measured 2 weeks ago, but then again I DID run a marathon at the weekend. With that in mind, I think this is a pretty good reading.

12 Jul

6.1 miles, 51:18, 8:25 pace, HR 134

13 Jul

10 miles, 1:15:05, 7:30 pace, HR 153
incl. 7 miles @ 7:04,7:07,7:00,7:07,7:20,7:20,6:58

14 Jul

5 miles, 43:04, 8:37 pace, HR 133

Almost A Walk In The Park

Marathon Day started in highly unusual fashion – by waking up in my own bed. I had set the alarm, but of course I did not need it. By 6:30 I was wide awake, by 7 I had my breakfast, by 8 I was out on the bike, cycling the 5 miles to Killorglin from where I would catch the bus to Killarney. The fact that there was a public transport option available at just the right time was nothing short of a miracle and an opportunity too good to miss, which saved Niamh from putting our entire brood into the car early in the morning and hanging around Killarney for 5 hours with 4 increasingly cranky children.

It had been dry early on but it started raining just as I got to Killarney. Oh dear. I signed up at the Brehon hotel and then the 32-marathon guys themselves, Ken and Gerry, made an appearance and had a chat with every one of us. Gerry even recognised me (“you are that guy with that web site!”), which was a nice start. Just as we were leaving the hotel to get to the start line, who would show up to start the race but Colm “Gooch” Cooper, holder of 4 All-Ireland medals and 5 All Stars, at which point I turned into drooling fanboi and had my picture taken with him. The day was alway going to be great after that. The only disappointment was the low turn-out. There were only 6 marathon runners, including Ken and Gerry, and maybe 10 for the half, though that included the Boston Rose for next month's Rose of Tralee festival, so at least we definitely had our fair share of celebrities.


The course was to be 6 loops in Killarney National Park with on out-and-back spur at the start to make up the miles, 3 loops for the half marathon. One guy took off at sub-7 minute mile pace and I was rather surprised to see him wearing a full marathon number. I followed behind, jogging easily, or so it seemed, but when I checked my Garmin it said 7:15, so I put the breaks on. I knew I was in for the wrath of Mike if I would finish below 3:30 and settled into 8:00 pace. For the first 3 or 4 miles I struggled to find my pace. Every time I checked the Garmin it was way out of whack, either too slow or (usually) too fast. Eventually I figured that the present pace displayed seemed to be a bit off. While the distance and the average pace seemed to be spot on as far as I could tell, the present pace seemed to fluctuate half a minute per mile in either direction. Maybe the trees or the thick clouds interfered with the GPS signal, because I felt I was running far more evenly than the figures on the Garmin suggested. Eventually I managed to wean myself off the display and tuned into The Zone. Running became a lot easier from that point.

I was not sure what it would feel like to run 6 loops. Before the start I had chatted to Nora, who had come up with the course, and she told me she had gotten the idea from the Portumna marathon and Ultra two weeks ago. While it would obviously not be suited for a race with loads of runners, for a small crowd like today it was perfect. Running short loops of just over 4 miles meant you always had a mini-target shortly ahead of you and it helped cutting the marathon distance into smaller, much more manageable chunks. The main problem, as far as writing a race report is concerned, is that everything tends to melt together and it's difficult to remember on which loop any particular occurrence happened.

Most of the lap was completely flat but there was a hill towards the end where we had to climb about 150 feet over half a mile. Easy enough to do once, but after 6 loops this would be tiring.

I was wearing my glasses because I had been worried about missing a turn but it was easy enough, especially since I'm familiar with Killarney National Park. In the heavy rain they were a complete pain so I took them off and put them into my bag after the first lap, losing maybe a minute in the process.

I was carrying two gels and one container with salt tablets in my shorts pocket, and it was rather cramped in there. When I picked up my first salt tablet I had real troubles putting everything back into place. It was impossible while running and I had to walk for a while trying to sort things out. It didn't feel quite right, but everything seemed to be back in place.

After each lap I pressed the lap button on my Garmin, but shortly after starting the third lap I realised I had just hit the stop button rather than the lap one. Luckily I had noticed it in time – I had covered less than 0.1 miles without recording, about half a minute, and the distance displayed was still reasonably accurate.

I noticed that my cruising speed that I had fallen into was close to 8:30 pace. This was a bit surprising, I had expected it to be closer to 8:00, considering how slow that pace had felt in Connemara early on. But I was happy enough cruising along at that pace. This was a training run for me with Dingle the target and I sure was not going to jeopardise that by running too fast today.

With so few of us on the course, I was running completely on my own and after completing the first lap I could not see anyone either in front or the back of me. This re-enforced the feeling of this as a training run. It sure did not feel like a race, comfortably jogging through the park on my own as I was.

Halfway through the third lap I tried to take my second salt tablet but noticed that the cover of my container had come off and my salt tablets had pretty much dissolved in the rain. I took whatever was left, but sorting out the mess took a while; I even had to stop for a while. When I resumed running I noticed that the average pace for that lap had dropped to all the way to 9:10. I must have messed around for well over a minute when I should have been running. It's a lesson I'll definitely take on-board: either get shorts with two pockets, carry a waist pack, or take less stuff with me on my run, but stop cramping stuff into too small a space. By the end of the lap the pace had gone back to 8:53, but it was to be by far the slowest lap of the day.

For the rest of the day I resolved to run and forget about anything else. This worked remarkably well and I spent the next few hours tuned into The Zone running like a machine.

The fourth lap went by in a flash. I was a bit worried about getting tired. The last 2 weeks I had done 2 runs of 15 miles and both times I had gotten really tired after about 13 and then was really glad to be done after 15. Today this would not do. But I passed 13 miles feeling perfectly fresh, 15 miles came and went, and by the end of the fourth lap I was on 17 miles already and still no real sign of fatigue. Someone else must have felt just that though, because as soon as I started lap 5 I saw the runner that had stormed off at the start right on front of me. Within a quarter mile we were level and started chatting. His story was quite remarkable. Cork, 5 weeks ago had been his first marathon. One week ago he had run in Longford, the first marathon of the 32-marathon series, and now was his third ever marathon, just 5 weeks after the first one (and he was planning two more over the next 2 weeks). I told him he would make life a lot easier on himself by starting slower rather than taking off at sub-3 pace, but he insisted he liked putting time into the bank early on so that he would be able to slow down at mile 20. Ok then. Anyway, we shared the road for the next 3 miles, doing about 8:25 pace, which was probably a good bit faster than what he had been doing in the miles before, otherwise I would not have caught up. I did notice that he was breathing a lot harder than I was, though. When we reached the hill towards the end of the loop he told me to go ahead, and I was on my own again.

I could hardly believe I was on my last lap already and I was marveling how well I felt. It also helped that I caught up with two other runners, who of course were still on their fifth lap and they both looked to be suffering a bit, having covered more than 20 miles at that stage. Welcome to the marathon, I suppose.

I should mention a bit about Gerry and Ken, the two real heroes who were on their mission to run 32 consecutive marathons, completing the 9th one that day. Gerry was looking good and fit, but Ken had developed knee pains halfway through the seventh day and had to walk the second half. Yesterday had been worse and he had to walk basically all of the Cork stage. Today, in Kerry, he had hoped for better things but sadly that turned out not to be the case. I first lapped him walking towards the end of my second lap, then again at the fourth and once more not even halfway through my last lap, at which stage he was not even halfway through. What was amazing was that he still had a big smile on his face each time we met, even though he must have been going through a very tough patch. It got worse, he required a physio session after his third lap and he later soldiered on, taking over nine hours to slowly hobble his way through the entire course. He certainly was very determined to keep going.

As for myself, I must have accelerated on my last lap because the pace dropped under 8:00 all of a sudden. I was not even aware I was doing this; I guess I could smell the barn. But there was one thing on my mind. If the half marathon distance had required 3 laps and one extra spur, who come the full marathon would be 6 laps and one spur? This did not make sense, and one look at the Garmin plus a small calculation made it clear that a second spur was needed for the whole distance. Indeed, when I finished the last lap the Garmin showed 25.22 miles and even though I had missed out a short bit when I had inadvertently stopped the watch after 2 laps, this was well short. I had a short discussion with two guys helping out with the organisation, and eventually we all agreed that one extra mile was required, so I did exactly that. By the time I was back again I had done 26.35 miles in 3:39:43. The exact time isn't important; I had run about half a minute with the clock turned off earlier on, but then again I had spent at least as much talking to the guys after lap 6, when the clock kept ticking, so we called that my final time. The official timing device had sadly given up its ghost a long time ago, apparently recharging the battery last night had not worked properly.

Lap 1: 8:08 pace
Lap 2: 8:34 pace
Lap 3: 8:53 pace
Lap 4: 8:31 pace
Lap 5: 8:27 pace
Lap 6: 7:50 pace
Extra: 7:38 pace

I changed my top, and then informed the next runner, Tomas, that he should complete the spur for a second time to cover the whole marathon distance, which he agreed because it had been playing on his mind as well. Then I headed out back on the loop until I came across Gerry and we finished his marathon running in together. He also had spent the last hour thinking about how the distance could not be right after only 6 laps (funny how we all had the same thing on our minds when there was not much else to think about for hours), and he had his own Garmin to confirm that, so he did the final out-and-back section as well. We had a good chat; I told him my backstory on how I had come to live in Ireland and about the upcoming Dingle race, which he might do as well. After all, he will be well trained for an Ultra after all that. I also told him about my cousin who is autistic, which obviously was close to our hearts, the whole 32-marathon trip being a fund raiser for Irish Autism Action. When I mentioned Ken's troubles he told me how they had spent an entire year preparing for this project; after all that work neither of them were going to give up without a really good fight.



Eventually we were done and Niamh and the kids just happened to be there. I told the kids that I had come first; Lola was delighted, the boys were more like “finally he's won a marathon, it has taken more than enough attempts”. I didn't tell them that it might have been the slowest winning time for a marathon in history. Some things are better left untold.

It was a true honour to share one marathon with those amazing guys attempting a great feat. They even had a goody bag with a medal, t-shirt and certificate, showing how much thought they had put into this, trying to have every one of the 32 marathons just like a real race. I had not expected any of this and it was a really nice touch. Then they went far beyond what you could expect at your average marathon by organising a massage as well as a shower. Sadly I did not have time for the first because family duty called but the latter was gratefully received, and I was fresh for the rest of the day, which was very much a family affair and included cinema and Fun Fair, and a much lighter wallet on the way home.

With the marathon and my subsequent miles together with Gerry I had covered just over 29.5 miles today, and very much enjoyed every single one of them. This was the easiest and most enjoyable marathon I have ever run, and I am now looking forward to Dingle more than ever.

9 Jul

5 miles, 41:48, 8:21 pace, HR 137

10 Jul

29.5+ miles, including:
Kerry section of the 32-marathons challenge 3:39:43, 8:21 pace, HR 149

11 Jul

5 miles, 41:46, 8:21 pace, HR 137

No Taper

Even though I have done 26+ mile training runs before, at the beginning of the week I was getting worried about the state of my legs. My right achilles hurt. My left hamstring hurt a lot. Then my left shins gave an acute pain. Niamh suggested it might be shin splints (where the heck did she pick up that term?), but I didn’t think so, it was too close to the ankle. I wore ankle straps for Tuesday’s run, but they probably were not necessary, and the problem has not re-occurred. But my left calf muscle is very, very sore in one particular spot, and if I make the wrong movement, it starts cramping.

All of these problems do not really bother me when I’m running, only in the intervening times (maybe I should run for 24 hours a day then. Ok, maybe not). Actually, the achilles tends to be a bit sore for the first mile of each run, and then I completely forget about it.

Anyway, time is the best healer, and with 36 hours to go until the marathon, I’m feeling better. All of the issues are still there, but they all seem to be receding. There is nothing magic about the marathon distance, and if you run it slowly enough you make it through even if you’re not rested and tapered. Nobody knows that better than the guys from the 32-marathon challenge, who have just completed their 7th marathon in a row, and yet they’re still only at the beginning.

The weather forecast is getting worse by the minute, a few days ago it didn’t seem too bad but now they are all predicting various amounts of rain. Then again, it won’t be any worse than the Cork marathon a month ago. Right now I’m really looking forward to this, despite all the niggles and tiredness.

As for my most recent training, I ran 15 miles on Tuesday around Caragh Lake. The legs were incredibly stiff and tired early on, so I ran a few fast strides to loosen them up, which seemed to work. I was quite tired over the last 2 miles, which is not a great sign for Saturday, but I’ll manage.

6 very slow miles followed on Wednesday, but the HR was a good bit higher than what I would have expected for such a slow run. It had me worried, but today’s (Thursday) run was a tad faster but with a lower HR, so things are moving in the right direction. My guess is I was tired from Tuesday's run (as well as last week's mileage). I know this is not a taper, but I always intended to train through that marathon.

I will take Saturday as a marker how I’m coping with long distance training runs. There will have to be a lot more of them before Dingle, and the feedback from Saturday will serve as a good indicator how I can handle the long miles.

6 Jul

15 miles, 1:58:47, 7:55 pace, HR 149

7 Jul

6.1 miles, 52:02, 8:32 pace, HR 140

8 Jul

8 miles, 1:06:09, 8:16 pace, HR 139

Back Home

Scott published a great picture a few weeks ago, and at the moment I can really empathise. I don’t have his excuse of running 200+ km per week, but I did have a rather active week of running and holidays, and I’m now catching up on recovery. I’m already starting back on my iron supplements. They always have a positive effect when I feel tired. Low iron levels have been an issue ever since I was a kid. I guess, being on Niamh’s vegetarian diet does not make it easier either.

Saturday and Sunday had been relatively easy days and I had planned a longer run this morning but felt much too tired last night; I re-set the alarm for another short and easy run, the third in a row. Considering that I’m going to run a marathon 5 days from now, a longer outing was probably pushing my luck more than required anyway, even if it’s a training marathon.

It did question why I ran the Cork marathon, but looking at it now it was definitely a good idea. If next week had been my only marathon of the year I most likely would not have been able to resist the temptation of racing it, and 8 weeks before Dingle this would almost certainly have been disastrous. Instead, with the racing fever well and truly out of my system, I am now looking forward to a comfortable training run with aid stations. Oh the luxury!

Having said that, I am well short of my target on the charity front, so if you had planned on donating a few Euro to the cause but had accidentally forgotten about it in the meantime, now is your chance to do so. Oh, and thanks to all the great guys and gals who did get out their credit card, this is all highly appreciated. That reminds me, the 32-marathon challenge has started already, you can check out the website for a progress report so far.

As this marathon will be a training run, I am not really tapering but will take it easy the last few days beforehand anyway. The weather seems on the verge of changing. We had a great summer so far, at least by Irish standards, but after the last 3 years we were more than due a few sunny weeks. Let’s hope that was not it as far as the summer was concerned, though. The kids are turning into lunatics when they’re house bound.

3 Jul

6.5 miles, 53:05, 8:10 pace, HR 141

4 Jul

8 miles, 1:02:28, 7:48 pace, HR 144

5 Jul

6.1 miles, 49:00, 8:02 pace, HR 142
incl. 8x100 strides

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Did you even notice that this blog had not been updated for a few days?


You'll never find me on a beach holiday. That's my idea of hell, even if the alternative includes a few hours in a car filled with a bunch of children who don't even need an excuse to start a fight and a toilet-training, accident-prone toddler.


Since the present state of my finances does not allow me to load all 6 family members onto a plane, we had no choice but to stay on our own island. Despite Niamh's sister's misgivings, who seemed convinced that we were going to be shot at any moment, we crossed the border into The North.


Now that its citizens have mostly stopped blowing each other to smithereens over minor differences in the interpretation of an otherwise identical Faith, the place is well worthy visiting. We rented a house sans Internet connection for 5 days just outside Carrickfergus, less than 10 miles outside Belfast. This served as a useful base for excursions all over the place; we went as far North as Giant's Causeway, which was spectacular, though Maia was disappointed that the Giant himself was not there, and as far South as Castlewellan Forest Park, where I was disappointed that the other giants (Redwood Trees) were not as big as I had imagined. It looks like I'll have to go all the way to California to see them properly after all (what's the date for Big Sur again?).


Of course I brought my running gear. I visited Knockagh Monument on Monday, which was only a 10+ mile round trip, and the few hundred feet elevation gain were well worth the stunning view. I brought the family up there a couple of days later, this time by car. On Tuesday I ran towards Woodburn Forest, which was only logged rather than burned, despite the name. Apparently there are 13 kilometres of forest walks in there and of course I got hopelessly lost trying to follow some trails which then disappeared and left me bushwhacking for a while. I re-visited the place the following day but stayed on the forests road to get more of a run rather than a cross-country adventure. Both of these runs were a bit over 10 miles; a long run was not on the cards. I did not want to get up at silly o'clock during my holidays and could not stay out too long with the rest of the family waiting for me to get on with the rest of the day. Having said that, I did walk at least 5 miles on both days in addition to these runs in various parts of the country. Natural, rural, tourist attractions tend to require the use of your own legs, which of course suits me just fine and the kids, after they got over their initial moaning, enjoyed it too – no need to deny it. A 15 mile run on Friday morning to Whitehead was my final excursion. This was flatter than the other ones but right along an at times very busy road.

On Tuesday evening, Niamh asked me if I had had still gone running for 10 miles had I known how much walking I would do, which of course I confirmed. She seemed surprised.

We were only here for 5 days, but we have seen so many spectacular sights that I can't pick a favourite. Giant's Causeway and the Carrick-a-Rede suspension bridge had been on my to-do list for years. Glenariff is so beautiful I cannot understand how it is not world famous. Castlewellan and Tollymore Forest parks are perfect places for a family trip. Carrickfergus Castle would have been the kids' favourite had it not been for Belfast's W5 museum, which kept us occupied for over 5 hours. Armagh's Planetarium got favourable reviews as well. We also saw Newgrange and a few other things I must have forgotten to mention.

The major downside was driving through Belfast, which we found very stressful. They manage to combine the inept Irish signposting with the aggressive British driving style. However, once we found that me navigating and Niamh driving works a lot better than the other way round, things improved even on that front. Oh, and supermarket prices are so much cheaper in the North, it pisses me off just how much we are getting ripped off by the same major chain down South. Petrol prices, on the other hand, are eye watering on the Northern side of the border, so I guess we all have valid reasons for complaints.

It was a great holiday, and we're in Dublin now, which serves as a useful stop to break the long journey into 2 parts. Now I need some rest and recovery. That's what the office is for, isn't it?

28 Jun

10.3 miles, 1:22:17, 7:59 pace, HR 148

29 Jun

11 miles, 1:32:35, 8:25 pace, HR 147

30 Jun

13 miles, 1:44:16, 8:01 pace, HR 152

1 Jul

6.2 miles, 51:38, 8:20 pace, HR 139

2 Jul

15 miles, 1:58:41, 7:54 pace, HR 147

An Easy Double

After running a lot of 100-plus-miles-weeks last summer, I have come to the conclusion that this is too much for me in singles. I still think that doing that sort of volume in doubles might be ideal, but real life issues mean this is not going to happen. I run in the morning when the rest of the family are asleep, and that’s that. Just recently Niamh was asked if she didn’t mind me spending so much time training, her answer being that she is asleep at the time, so how could she possibly mind? Doubles don’t work that way, the second run of the day would have to happen at the most busy time for the family, either dinner time of getting-the–kids-to-bed time, and my absence would not be appreciated at either. Family comes first, and doubles simply are not going to happen.

Unless I strike lucky on occasions like yesterday. The company I work for has an annual summer day out. Last year happened to fall on miserable rainy day and ended being a day in the pub, which I hated. This year was at the opposite end of the scale. A boat trip across the Killarney Lakes into the stunningly beautiful Black Valley was followed by a cycle through the Gap of Dunloe, only that I opted to run rather than cycle. Initially several people had said they would hike, in the end I was the only one to do it on foot, which once more confirmed my status as the odd one out. What’s new. However, I immensely enjoyed the run. The scenery is breathtaking (well, so is the 800-feet climb), just as you reach the top of the Gap there is a view across Black Valley and Upper Lake, which is probably my favourite view in the whole world.

Last November I had done a race on this very course but that had been out-and-back and today I was only doing it one way. I took it reasonably easy, or so I thought, but when I checked the Garmin (yes, I had brought the Garmin along for the occasion) I realised that I was running faster than I had done so during the race. Then I remembered that I had taken it relatively easy in that race because it had been only 3 weeks after the Dublin marathon. Of course, then I remembered that today was less than 3 weeks after the Cork City marathon. I guess it is fair to say that I have recovered a lot quicker this time. I think the Connemara training has improved my legs no end.

Two colleagues asked me if I had been running earlier that day, which I quietly confirmed. There’s no need to appear even more odd. Several inquired when my next race would be, and it took me a while to remember that I have another marathon in a fortnight. Crikey! Better not forget about that!

Training is going well so far. The legs are fresh and I’m looking forward to some proper long runs. This might have to wait for a week because we’re off on our holidays and I’m not sure how much running I will be able to squeeze in. I’m bringing my gear, that goes without saying.

24 Jun

6.1 miles, 49:50, 8:10 pace, HR 141

25 Jun

am: 10 miles, 1:16:22, 7:38 pace, HR 151
pm: 7 miles, 51:00, 7:17 pace, HR 167, very hilly

26 Jun

5 miles, 40:38, 8:07 pace, HR 141

Focus

I got an interesting anonymous comment to my last entry.

I know your ultimate running goal is to run a sub 3 marathon... in order to maximise your potential at any discipline, ones training has to be focused and it has to be consistent... Dublin in October should be the main focus. Triathlons and Ultras are unnecessary distractions... [shortened]

Thank you. At first I was weary to see a lengthy anonymous comment because they sometimes tend to be unpleasant, but this one is really good. However, you got one fundamental thing wrong: my ultimate goal is not to run a sub-3. I don’t know what my ultimate goal is, or if I even have one. Running a sub-3 is still important to me, but shaping myself into a good ultra runner is at least as significant. In fact, if you asked me right now if I preferred to run a very good ultra or a sub-3, I’d opt for the ultra. A year ago the answer would have been different, and maybe next year I will have changed my mind again, who knows. In all likelihood I will indeed be in Dublin this year, though not to race it but as one of the official pacers. The line-up is yet to be confirmed, but I do expect to get the gig. My next real go at a marathon will be early 2011. I will have all winter to work on my marathon speed and hope to break that sub-3 target once and for all. But right now I can only think of 50 miles in Dingle and quite frankly, right now that is all I care about. But I very much appreciated your thoughts and input.

I don’t like even tennis and I had never heard of either Isner or Mahut, but when I turned on the telly yesterday evening and saw the 5th set score at 35-35, I thought that was just ludicrous but could not stop watching. Then it was dinner time. They were still playing when I came back. Then it was time to get the kids to bed. They were still playing when I came back. The way Isner was moving very much reminded me of mile 34 in Connemara 2 years ago, the one where I had sworn an oath never to do anything like that ever again (I did not keep it). Crash Reality TV at its best! Too bad it had to end on the 3rd day.

I have yet to get used to getting up early again. The alarm went off at 5:30 yesterday and I was still half asleep when I left the house 15 minutes later. But the run went very well. My usual measurement after climbing the big hill past Cappanalea at mile 5 is that I’m doing well if the average pace is under 9:00. That morning it was 8:22, it was well below 8:00 at the bottom of the hill and by the time I was back home it was 7:45, all without unduly pushing the effort. My singlet was drenched in sweat though; the air seemed very humid, much more so than I am used to. But it was good to be out there for close to 2 hours. I have missed the feeling of heavy legs for the rest of the day, in the office. It’s a sign that I’m working hard enough for the body to adapt, and I thrive on it.

6 easy miles this morning, don’t want to over-do it. In fact, one goal of mine for this training cycle is to keep all easy runs slower than 8:00 pace at all times.

23 Jun

15 miles, 1:56:21, 7:45 pace. HR 152

24 Jun

6.1 miles, 49:50, 8:10 pace, HR 141

Start Again

I played around with the Excel file from Saturday’s triathlon. I already knew that I was 71st overall, but a more detailed list of the splits is as follows:

swim 18:28 (194th)
T1 1:41 (131st)
bike 40:47 (68th)
T2 00:44 (104th)
run 21:03 (32nd)

The report on the race website mentions 400 competitors while the results list exactly 300 with the relay option accounting for the difference. In light of that my 32nd best time in the run is much better than that bare, unimpressive figure of 21:03. And that includes the relay runners, amongst the pure triathletes I had come 22nd! Immediately after the race I had been absolutely disgusted with myself after seeing a time of over 21 minutes on my watch, but I guess I have to retract that. Most importantly, my run time was 11 seconds faster than Grellan’s which is obviously the only thing that counts (because who could possibly care about those silly swim and bike sections). Oh, and the 44 seconds T2 time was a major improvement on the 64 seconds from Valentia. At least that one worked out. Using different shoes might cut a few more seconds off that, should there ever be a next time (and by the way, Ewen, yes, I do have elastic laces. The problem with the Lunaracers is that the upper material is so thin that it basically collapses when you try to slide your foot in. You have to hold the heel part with one hand and the tongue with the other, which is fine for running but not for a triathlon where the clock is ticking as you do so).

Anyway, the realisation that it is less than 10 weeks to Dingle hit me hard and the Ultra training has to start here and now. Obviously I’m not starting from scratch and my base should be rather high after Connemara and Cork, but I have to re-build my training mileage. The first run was 8 miles on Sunday, Father’s Day. Incidentally, on Saturday evening Niamh had said that she would let me have a lie-in, but it is totally pointless for me as I never sleep in the morning. For once she was wrong, the combination of a sleepless night the night before and an exhausting triathlon made me sleep for almost 10 hours until 8:30 (yes, that counts as late), and by some miracle the kids slept in as well. After that and breakfast in bed I went for my 8-mile run. I expected to be sore from the triathlon but somehow the legs took off and I ran much faster than anticipated. I guess 5K had not been enough to destroy the legs and the long sleep had gotten rid of the general exhaustion. What surprised me even more was finding Niamh asleep in bed when I came back home. Someone else had gotten an unexpected bonus as well by the looks of it.

Originally I intended to take it easy on Monday and run longer on Tuesday, but reality prevented that and I had to up my Monday mileage. A 12 mile loop in Cromane followed. That’s not exactly a long run by any stretch of the imagination, but more will follow during the week. Again I felt ok; maybe the sunny weather helps. This must be the longest stretch of sunshine in Kerry in recorded history, and training is pure pleasure.

As mentioned, things got a bit more complicated this morning because Shea had to be at his school at 7:30 to get on the coach for his end-of-year school trip. For some reason they are going all the way to Limerick, which baffles me but has him very excited. A long run was out of the question but I snuck in 4 miles. I thought about not running at all, but I don’t want to start the ultra training by taking days off needlessly. It really is time to get serious.

Originally I planned to do another sprint triathlon in August, but might not do it. I really hated the swim portion in Caherciveen and as long as I’m such a poor swimmer, that won’t change. I won’t have time or opportunity to do any real swim training between now and then as I must concentrate on running, and I hesitate doing another triathlon as long as I can’t do it justice. Anyway, I don’t have to decide now.

Oh, and the cheating French are out of the World Cup. Not that we’re bitter or anything.

20 Jun

8 miles, 58:33, 7:19 pace, HR 159

21 Jun

12 miles, 1:33:52, 7:49 pace, HR 147

22 Jun

4 miles, 32:35, 8:09 pace, HR 138

That Hill! And That Other Hill!

For some reason that is now not entirely clear to me, I decided after the Valentia triathlon 4 weeks ago to tackle another one, with the Sive Triathlon in Caherciveen being at a very convenient location. I was a bit worried that doing a triathlon 12 days after the Cork City marathon might be a bit reckless, but of course at that time I did not know yet that I would end up running another race between those two. As Niamh dryly remarked, the question is no longer if Thomas was doing a race this weekend but which race he is doing!

Anyway, I spent another restless night in Valentia and got up feeling exhausted already. It’s funny that by now I sleep like a baby before a marathon but can’t get an ounce of sleep before a mere sprint triathlon. Anyway, after breakfast I cycled the 5km from the ferry to the race start. Having a house in Valentia proofed to be great once more. Niamh and the kids would come down from Caragh Lake later on for the start.

I had been slightly shocked to find that I was starting in wave 1 and my first target was not to be DFL amongst the wave 1 swimmers. Before the start I had a few words with Grellan, Pat and a few work colleagues. Since Grellan is a much better swimmer than me I expected him to get out of the water about 5 minutes ahead of me, and the other goal was at least to match his cycle and running times. There was never a question of finishing ahead of him; even if I had followed Ewen’s advice to let his tyres down, slip the chain off and tie his shoelaces together, he’d still have finished ahead of me.

Unlike Valentia, the start was from open water and assembling at the start line was a bit tricky because the (very small) tidal current kept pushing us across the line. But eventually the whistle blew and we were off, 15 minutes late (that still counts as strictly on time in Kerry, I suppose). I had started behind the main throng, which saved me from the worst of the mass swim chaos and made navigation relatively easy. Early on I was right beside another swimmer who kept hitting me first in the shoulder, then the hip and eventually the feet, so I suppose I was on target for not being the slowest swimmer. But my memory from Valentia seems to have played a nasty trick on me. I distinctly remember the swim feeling relatively easy and I thought I might be able to improve on my time by swimming at a stronger effort. That turned out to be false hope. Maybe it’s because my swim training has suffered severely since that first race and I was soon knackered and I had not even reached the first buoy yet. It did cross my mind that I was not enjoying this at all and really wondered what the heck I had been thinking. Eventually I could hear cheers from my right, which I suppose meant that the first swimmers had finished already, the lucky b*st*rds. I eventually reached the first buoy, well past the halfway mark, and I could sense the end of this stage. It would have helped if after rounding the second buoy I had spotted the third one but I first headed into the wrong direction before noticing my mistake. I did not go far wrong and it did not cost me much, but still, it added even more time to an already poor performance. Eventually I reached the pier, heaved myself out of the water and ran into transition, waving to Niamh and the kids. I reckoned the worst was now over.

Improving my transition time was my big target for today and I had made some changes. I already wore my number on the swim so that I would not need to fiddle with the belt. I had left the Garmin at home and used a cheap stopwatch that I already wore during the swim, again saving me the hassle of fiddling with it during T1 (so no fancy graphs this time, sorry). I had rehearsed the drill. Wetsuit off, glasses on, helmet on, socks on (I decided to sacrifice a few seconds because I really do not need blisters for the Ultra training to come), shoes on, take the bike and off you go. It all started well enough until the time when I tried to put on the cycling shoes and I got wobbly and nearly fell over, almost feeling like fainting. It took some time to readjust and then I was off. My combined swim + T1 time was almost exactly 20- minutes, I guess about 17:30 for the swim (just like Valentia) and 2:30 for T1, but once I get the official results I hopefully know more.

The cycle almost immediately starts with a climb up to the main street and I started overtaking others from the off. I loved the bike section! After about 2km we turned right off the main road and soon the road started climbing relentlessly. The gradient was fine, never particularly steep, but for 5km it was all uphill. I did not count the number of cyclists I passed but it must have been several dozen, including (and that was particularly pleasing) a few cyclists with fancy looking triathlon bikes featuring aero bars. Since this was an out-and-back course, I expected the leading cyclists to come into view soon enough and was genuinely surprised that it took over 16 minutes for the leader to appear, and then another minute for the next guy. Eventually the road levelled out and even dropped a bit until the turnaround point and then it was our turn to descend the mountain. To be honest, I thought this was quite dangerous. There were still several hundred competitors climbing the road with plenty of overtaking manoeuvres while we descended at breakneck speed. I tried to ignore the thought that a head-on collision would probably be fatal and instead wondered why I didn’t see anyone ahead of me on my side of the road. Apparently we were descending all at roughly the same speed, so the overtaking stopped for basically the entire next 5 km. Late on one guy on yet another TT bike passed me, I passed him back and the whole process started again, repeating itself a few times until we reached the foot of the mountain and I managed to get away from him. I did pick up a couple more places but on the very last climb, on the Caherciveen main road, I had the entirely new and highly unpleasant sensation of my left hip cramping. It wasn’t too bad and I was able to continue, but it was very uncomfortable. Luckily I was soon at the top of that short climb and it went away.

Just like in Valentia I did not manage to get both feet out of my shoes while still on the bike (I ran out of road) and once more entered T2 with one foot bare and one shod. No matter.

T2 went well, I think. Bike on rack, helmet off, cycling shoes off, running shoes on, run. I am curious to see the results, but I think I will use different shoes next time. My Lunaracers are great running shoes but not made for easy entry. Using lightweight trainers like the Skylon should make things easier (and faster).

I did notice one mishap, but one that had already happened, on the bike. Very early into the cycling leg I noticed something snapping and there may have been something falling off, but it happened too quickly to be sure. At first I thought my pump had fallen off, but that was still there and a quick, panicked scan indicated that the bike was fine. My number belt felt funny, but I could feel that the number was till there. Now, in T2, I finally realised that the belt had somehow come loose and was at it widest girth, which my runner’s frame was nowhere near of filling out. But the number was till there, even if it hung down looking more like a fig leave. It would do for the next 20 minutes.

The cycle leg had been challenging, but the running leg was just brutal! We immediately climbed a very steep hill up to the main street, but after crossing that we kept going straight up the mountain at an even steeper gradient. I saw the guy ahead of me walking and was highly tempted to do the same, but my pride prevented me. I’m a runner, I don’t walk, not on a 5k road stage, no matter how steep. Passing that particular competitor felt good because I no longer had to look at him walking.

This time it did not take long for the leader to appear, I was only about 2 minutes into my run, and after another minute 2 more runners came flying down the hill. Lucky b*st*rds, almost finished! I, on the other hand, kept struggling up the hill. At least I gained a few more places, but nowhere near as many as in Valentia. That’s the problem with starting in wave 1, I guess, there were nowhere near as many targets in view today. After running for ages and suffering badly, a sign came into view. 1km! OH! MY!! GOD!!! All that work for one measly kilometre? And it had taken over 5 minutes! At least it was not as steep any more. One runner passed me, but in that case I did not mind because a) he was doing a relay and b) Pat O’Shea is a former 2:2x marathon runner. He would be the only man to go past me, and I could definitely live with that. I missed my drink at the 2K point because I dropped the cup, which made the sun feel even stronger. Somewhere around here I saw Grellan coming down, probably more than 5 minutes ahead, but what can you do! Eventually I reached the turnaround point and it was all downhill from here. Unfortunately I didn’t pass anywhere near as many runners as on the uphill. I saw Arthur Fitzgerald, a very fast runner, coming against me and very much expected him to catch me, but he never did. I was hurting, exhausted, thirsty, and even my competitive juices stopped flowing when I saw a runner ahead of me and my mind point blankly refused to chase him down. It took a female runner to appear in my sights to belatedly spur me into action again, and after that shameful and blatant instance of pure sexism I was running at full effort again.

I caught a few more runners and shortly before the end I saw Pat, Grellan’s neighbour, coming against me, who I would have expected to be way further ahead in the field. Just before the end I also spotted Shauna from work and then I was almost done. If the runner ahead had worn a normal top he would have kept his place, but he was wearing one with garish big sesame street characters and I could not possibly let a runner in a sesame street top beat me, so I went hell for leather and eventually went by. Then the torture was finally over. I forgot to press the stop button on my watch but it must have been close to 1:22, which is 5 minutes slower than Valentia. The course today had been much, much tougher and Valentia’s cycle leg had been short, which explains some of the difference. But I cannot deny that my legs felt worse today and I did not have that spring in me, which is no wonder, 12 days after a marathon, followed 5 days later by a downhill race.

I unsuccessfully kept looking for Niamh, and 10 minutes later met a few work colleagues. I was still so exhausted that I virtually fell into Jacqo’s arms (which Niamh would not have approved of, I guess), and could only mumble some delirious nonsense about this hill and that hill, which made Jacqo forbid me to drive home in my state. I found my family eventually when they let us back into the transition area where my mobile was located. Valentia Ice Cream has never tasted so good!

And with that, I’m going to rest. Niamh was slightly wrong, there’s no race next weekend.

Action photography by Shea Bubendorfer (aged 9)

Update:

2010 Caherciveen Sive Triathlon

1:22:39, 71st place
swim 18:28, T1 1:41, bike 40:47, T2 00:44, run 21:03

Good News, Bad News

Aren’t credit cards great? Even if you have no money whatsoever, they still enable you to purchase goods right here and now without having to wait until you can actually afford them. And all you have to do is sign your life away until you have paid back approximately three times the amount you borrowed in the first place. Well, after taking one look at our half-mowed lawn and the burnt wreck of our old mower, Niamh forced me to purchase a replacement no matter what. The good news is, the lawn is cut.

We had our 9 weeks old niece for a short visit over the weekend (the one that was born at the same time I did the Connemara Ultra). Her exhausted parents took a day off to attend a wedding (no, not their own) to leave Niamh and me in charge (ok, ok, just Niamh) of their little offspring. What can I say, looking after only one baby is so easy, I don’t know what people are complaining about! Still, handing her back the next day was welcome. There’s only so much lullaby singing I can do without aggravating the rest of my family. The great news is, the baby now knows at least a dozen Man City songs and she likes them all.

My quads have gradually forgiven me for putting them through the manger for a second time in 5 days. Running a downhill race 5 days after a marathon was always a big ask (read: the kind of stupid thing only I do), but by now they seem ready for some more punishment. As it just so happens, there is another triathlon this Saturday. The bad news is, Grellan will be there as well and he’s going to humiliate me. Since when exactly do we allow those Cork people across the county border? Ideally they should just be allowed 70 minutes in Fitzgerald stadium before driving back home, crying.

After two days of cycling and swimming I took to the roads again in proper fashion on Wednesday in form of an 8 mile run alongside the lake. It was a beautiful morning, which made for a very nice run. The quads did behave themselves but my right hamstring felt uncomfortably tight. Not sure where that came from, it had been fine both after the marathon and the downhill race. The run went pretty well nevertheless and the pace was surprisingly quick.

On Tuesday I thought I should have turned the cycle workout into a brick; on Thursday I did exactly that. After cycling for an hour (which passed so quickly I had to double-check my watch) I ran 4 miles in 30 minutes. As always, the legs felt wobbly for the first few minutes but did not affect my pace. The right hamstring was uncomfortably tight again but I really don’t think this is a real issue. I fully expect it to go away sooner rather than later. What’s always funny about running off the bike is that my pace is rather strong even though it feels awkward and slow. Without pushing the effort I got close to 7:00 pace. Oh, and I managed to get out of my cycling shoes while still on the bike. That’s one thing I want to improve during T2 compared to my last (and so far only) triathlon in Valentia.

It was just 6 easy miles this morning, with a wry smile on my face after France proved that cheats don’t prosper. The hamstring troubles were still there, but definitely improving. The HR was pleasingly low; I seem to have recovered surprisingly well considering what I’ve just put my body through.

As I’ve just found out, they put me into Wave 1 for tomorrow’s triathlon. After overcoming the initial shock, my new target is not to be the last wave 1 swimmer out of the water. Beating Grellan is not on the agenda, I estimate he will have 5 minutes on me by the time I reach dry land and unless I manage to fiddle with his bike that’s that matter settled. My only other target for tomorrow is to improve my transition times. I’m a desperately slow transitioner and there’s plenty of room for improvement. I have a few ideas in my head on what I will do differently from 4 weeks ago; let’s see how it all works out.

16 Jun

8 miles, 1:02:20, 7:48 pace, HR 151

17 Jun

60 mins cycling (about 18.5 miles)
4.2 miles running, 29:52, 7:02 pace, HR 153

19 Jun

6.1 miles, 49:56, 8:11 pace, HR 142

Run, Cycle, Swim

Check out these photos from Saturday's adventure race, and there's plenty more where they came from. Is it any wonder that I'm now frantically trying to figure out a way of doing this next year without having to skip any other major targets? As far as Adventure Races go, this one would suit me perfectly: it is close to home, the kayak part is mercifully short and the cycling part is on the road but still tough enough to stop anyone from saying you chickened out of a proper challenge. I'm not sure if I can fit this in next year; road running will always be my top priority, but I have the sneaking suspicion that I will be on the start line of that event sooner rather than later, and this time I'm not talking about the relay option.

Anyway, my quads were indeed sore on Sunday, though not as bad as they had been after the Wexford half marathon, which leave me hopeful that the real training for Dingle can start sooner rather than later. I did 5 easy miles on Sunday and then opted for the bike on Monday in order to get some blood flowing into the legs without subjecting them to the trauma of running on tarmac. It wasn't until the end of the workout that I thought I should have turned this into a brick workout with a short running section. Maybe next time.

Today I received a benefit for sacrificing my legs for the team on Saturday in form of a swim buddy for an open water swim. My swimming has taken a dive (lousy pun, sorry) since the triathlon mainly because I detest having to drive to Killarney and back on my swim mornings. This costs me over an hour of my very precious morning time and I really did not like it. On the other hand, I live in an area called “Caragh Lake”, which should give you a clue for an alternative option. However, I had never dared to swim there because a) I don't want to do it on my own and b) I was worried about an algae infestation. Well, on Saturday Kathryn (who had done the mountain running) told me that the algae had not been blooming this year due to the lack of rain in spring (now that is an unexpected bonus!) and offered to come with me this morning. So we met up at 7 o'clock in the morning at the one available path to the lake, which luckily happens to be merely a quarter mile from home. I also put my Garmin into my swim cap, a trick I had learned from this chap (and this one, too), to get an idea on the distance covered. This worked very well indeed, much better than expected, but Kathryn seemed to have enough after 20 minutes and we called it a day then. I think her thin wetsuit isn't as suited to swimming in Irish waters than mine. Me, I'm very grateful for every molecule of insulation on mine, even though getting in and out seems to be getting more difficult each time.

13 Jun

5 miles, 40:46, 8:09 pace, HR 150

14 Jun

15+ miles cycling

15 Jun

25 minutes swimming

Recovery? Well ...

When looking at the results of the Cork marathon, I realised that the split time had been taken at the 13 mile mark rather than at halfway. When I re-calculated my pace for both sections with this in mind, I found that I had run the first one at 7:20.6 and the second at 7:20.3 pace, which means I managed to run negative splits after all. Funnily enough I had managed the same rare feat 2 years ago in the same race. It might be a sign that I ran the first half a tad too conservative, but certainly not by much. It's better to have something in the tank for the last few miles than to hit the wall with a few miles yet to come.

Anyway, a few days ago on Wednesday evening I got a phone call. Kathryn, who organised a relay team for the Dingle Adventure Race, was in desperate need of a runner as her original team member had dropped out with 60 hours to go. I could not leave the lady in a lurch, so I got permission from Niamh and accepted. I did warn her that I had run a marathon 2 days ago and that I would be taking things easy; she was fine with that.

The race starts in dingle with a cycle across Connor Pass, then a "hike" across Mount Brandon, a road run towards Dingle and a Kayak section across Dingle Bay. Unsurprisingly, I was to do the road run.

Since I though it would be better to have a few miles in my leg before running 8 miles in a race, even an “easy” one, I set the alarm clock after all and went running for 5 miles both on Thursday and Friday morning. I was very pleasantly surprised just how well my legs felt. There was only a tiny remnant of stiffness in the quads, the rest felt perfectly fine. I also measured a resting HR of 45 on Wednesday – that's lower than 2 days before the marathon! In light of that I thought I could risk a race.

My enthusiasm waned a tad when I realised that a lot of the run would be downhill; not the best idea when you're supposed to be recovering from a marathon. Then I realised that I would have to be in Dingle at 8 o'clock in the morning for the briefing and my leg would not start until about noon at the earliest (the website even mentioned something about 2 o'clock). Clearly I would have to kill a lot of time in Dingle. Then, on Friday, my left quads starter hurting. Things were not looking too good, but by now it was much too late for Kathryn to find another runner and I did not even mention my troubles to her. I merely told her that I would be running no faster than 8-minute-miles, which was perfectly fine by her (maybe she knew something I didn't).

Anyway, we went to Dingle in the morning, saw off the bike start and had a coffee while waiting for my shuttle bus. I wasn't even on the bus yet when word came through that Liz, our cyclist, had already finished her stage, in less than an hour. That was much faster than I had anticipated. All of a sudden I felt under pressure. Surely she was taking this rather seriously. Would I be letting the team down by running easily?

I caught the first bus and got to the run start shortly before 11 o'clock. Within a few minutes the first mountain runner came into view. John Lenihan is a true world class athlete, and watching him glide seemingly effortlessly down the mountain at speed was a sight to behold. In fact, I felt rather privileged to witness it and to be able to appreciate the beauty of his performance. It took a few minutes for the next runner to appear, and then the numbers increased steadily. At that stage I received a rather panicky sounding text message from Kathryn who thought it would take her 2 hours to even reach the top of the mountain. Luckily she managed to pull through, I got another text when she went over the top and figured I had about 20 minutes to the start of my leg.

I wondered if I should even do a warm-up, because I figured the fewer miles I spent on my still recovering legs the better. The decision was pretty much taken out of my hands when I spotted Kathryn's pink top coming down the mountain. I did just under a quarter mile of warm-up, just to get the legs moving, then she was here and I was off.



The first mile dropped very steeply down the rest of the mountain. I took it easy – or so I thought. I definitely did not run at race effort but looking at the figures now I ran the first mile in 5:36, though that included an elevation drop of 344 feet. I had already passed several runners but told most of them that I was only a relay runner, so they did not have to worry. In fact I felt like a complete fraud. The real athletes had already cycled across Ireland's highest pass before crossing a mountain to get to this spot, while I had done nothing of the sort. I was embarrassed every time I passed someone, and over the next hour, with my much fresher legs, I had plenty of opportunity to be embarrassed.

The second mile featured a hill with 135 feet elevation gain (“it's a small hill but will feel like a big hill at that stage”, the RD had said in the morning [well, not to a relay runner]), and passed in 6:49, probably way too fast. A lot of the adventure racers were walking, looking rather knackered. Then the road dropped gently all the way down to Dingle for the next 4 miles and I tried to take it reasonably easy. I certainly didn't do 8-minute-miles like I promised Kathryn (and especially myself), but I was not doing 8-mile race pace either. In reality this was about tempo effort, comfortably hard. Not all-out racing, but certainly a far cry from an easy run. The next 4 miles passed in 6:11, 6:27, 7:05 and 6:34, and were mostly unremarkable. It was rather hot; it was a hazy day but for a while to sun broke through and the temperatures rose noticeably. I took a drink at about half way from a well-stocked water station, but when a car came by handing out extra bottles I declined because I felt these bottles should go to the adventure racers, not relay-only posers like myself.

I reached the roundabout outside Dingle after exactly 6 miles, passing Liz and Kathryn. Looking at the map I had thought this was just a mile from the finish, in which case the run section would have been shorter than the advertised 8 miles. It was also part of the Dingle marathon route, meaning I had run on this very stretch of road exactly 9 months ago. Somehow I must have forgotten the steep climb to the garage and past the graveyard because it caught my entirely by surprise. I felt very dehydrated, and passing the graveyard thought that at least the didn't have to carry me far if I collapsed here. It very soon became apparent that this final stretch but would be a lot longer than a mile. Twisty as the road was, I could always see runners further ahead and each bend and each hill just led to the next one. My pace suffered at that point. I was tired and thirsty, and I really wondered just how long this was going to take (miles 7 and 8 at 7:15 and 7:20).

I finally reached the turn-off point after 8 miles, and we still had to cross through the grounds towards the sea, including a very muddy stretch where you really had to mind your footing, which is why that last section was slower than anything else. Eventually I reached the end after 56:26 minutes of running and passed the baton (well, the timing chip) on to Noddy, our Kayak specialist.

I missed his finish because he was faster across the water than my bus around it, but apparently we came home as the 5th team, which would be a great result, though I have yet to see the results at the web site. I certainly had run much faster than anticipated and walking through Dingle I wondered just how I had gotten away with that rather reckless pace on a downhill course only 5 days after a rather grueling marathon. At least I think I got away with it because my quads feel absolutely fine. I guess I'll find out tomorrow if that's not the case.

There was still plenty of day left when I got back home, so I managed to do the gardening after all. Well, until the lawn mower caught fire. Now I have a half-done lawn at the front of the house, no appliance to tackle the rest with and no money to rectify the situation. Oops.

10 Jun

5 miles, 39:15, 7:50 pace, HR 147

11 Jun

5 miles, 40:00, 8:00 pace, HR 145

12 Jun

Dingle Adventure Race, Relay, Run Section:
8.4 miles, 56:26, 6:43 pace, HR 180

Cork Photos

Two days on and I’ve had time to reflect on my 15th marathon/ultra. Considering how low my expectations had been before the race, this has gone very well. I would gladly have taken 3:12 at the start, so I have no reason to complain about that time now.

Michael left a lengthy comment, wondering if I’m overtrained. I gave this careful thought, but I really do not think this is the case. The main reason why I was not very enthusiastic about the race was that it was a late addition to my racing calendar this year, I signed up a few weeks ago, mostly on a whim. Then, when I got sick with a week to go, I expected a long slow disaster, and this wasn’t something I was really looking forward to. In contrast, I am very much looking forward to Dingle, both the training and the race. I take this as a good sign.

My legs are feeling very good. I can even skip down the staircase at work without a bother. That’s a new one after a marathon. Still, I haven’t run yet. I might in the next few days if I happen to wake early enough, but I won’t set my alarm.

Unlike a few other marathons, there were loads of photos around, and I have been busy scouring the net. I found plenty of pictures of myself, looking ugly in basically all of them. That’s ok, a marathon is no beauty contest. Thanks To Paudi, Private, the official photographers and everyone who posted a picture on flickr.

Early on, you can see me (673) with Seamus (1470) tucked close behind.


Very close by, we’ve temporarily attached ourselves to a bigger group.


At mile 10, probably the stretch where I felt best, Seamus was still very much with me.

Mile 11, and we all just realised that we would be running straight into the wind for the next 2 miles. Seamus, of course, knew it too but at least had a handy wind shield in front of him. And you can admire Blackrock Castle in the background.

Close to the halfway point and we found a fairly big group that stayed together for a good few miles. Seamus is right behind me.

Pretty much the same group at mile 15. Me and my shadow Seamus.

And shortly afterwards. Seamus is – you guessed it – right behind me.

By mile 20 things have changed and I'm on my own. I can hardly recognise myself in that picture. I look about 10 years older.


Crossing the finish line.

Blimey, that was hard work.

I should have left my glasses at home. I was running blind half of the time.