Blood Runs Cold

On Friday morning I woke up early. That's not unusual, I do that most mornings. But for some reason I reached out and grabbed my Oximeter from my bedside locker. No idea why, it must have been there for close to a year since I last used it, even though I still kept it within arm's reach. It gives two readings, the oxygen saturation of your blood and the heart rate. It had always been the heart rate that I had been interested in, I used to use it to measure my resting HR. But this time it was actually the oximeter reading that caught my eye. It had always been around 95, except for one time when I had some viral infection and it turned lower. And lower it was again that morning, at 88.

Now, I am perfectly aware of two things. One, it's a cheap 10 Euro oximeter and definitely not medical grade, so the reading might have been unreliable. And two, I googled the possible reasons for low oxygen saturation, and using Dr. Google for self diagnosis is always a bit of a gamble, but the one reason that caught my eye straight away was anemia.

Runners talk about anemia quite often, it is one reason why you might be running below your potential. And running can cause anemia due to foot strike hemolysis, though that is quite rare. I do have a history of anemia, however, I used to be on iron tablets for years when I was young and I have long lost count of the number of times our GP took a blood sample to test me. That was a long time ago, however, so it may well be just a false alarm, especially with the uncertainty of the diagnosis. 

Still, I went into the pharmacy on Saturday and bought some liquid iron supplement, the one that Niamh used to take when she was pregnant with the twins and which seemed to help me as well.

Actually, I have been feeling much better this week, though I can only assume that this is either coincidence or placebo because even if I really were anemic, I don't think the supplement would work quite so quickly. I'll keep taking it, though. I'm pretty sure my iron levels are not high, so taking a supplement is unlikely to cause any harm, in the worst case it may have caused slight harm to my bank balance, that's all.

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I followed the same pattern as recent weeks in training, with a long cycle on Tuesday evening and a mountain run on Sunday, though I didn't manage to run on Friday because work had been absolutely manic, I didn't manage to nip out at lunchtime and was too exhausted to even think of running after work, so I let it go.

I only managed about 50 miles of running last week, which isn't a lot when you're training for a race of the same length, though it was offset by over 100 miles of cycling, and part of the run was on mountain trails, which significantly increased the time on feet compared to what the same miles would have given me on the road.

Still, I won't be in top shape come race day. But I'll manage.

Discrimination

Just imagine. Just imagine you have trained for years, paid the price in blood, sweat and tears. You get better and better because you keep pushing yourself past your limits again and again and eventually, after years of hard work that most people cannot even imagine, you reach the required standard for selection into your country's team for the World Championships.

No, don't fear, I'm not talking about myself.

To make things even more difficult, as if trying to achieve international standard by itself wouldn't be difficult enough, just imagine you are legally blind and cannot train like you or me can, as described vividly in this post. And despite those obvious disadvantages you manage to overcome all obstacles and manage to qualify.

And the you don't get selected, for no other reason that you are blind:

I havent been selected by Athletics Ireland to represent Ireland in the world champs soley based on my disability. Thanks @RichardDonovan7 for all your support. The IAU and IAAF rules are not justifiable. https://t.co/JBOVHOhD2y

— Dr. Sinead Kane (@KaneSinead) August 18, 2019

I'm outraged! That is just so fucking unfair, I cannot even put it into words. Plus, I was under the impression that there are laws against discrimination?

Compared to that, my own little training adventures pale into insignificance.

I felt better than last week, despite doing the exact same cycle route again on Tuesday. Maybe my legs are more getting used to it, who knows. I still felt tired on Thursday but much better on all the other days, and the odd tired day is allowed after all.

On Sunday I was feeling adventurous enough to head out into the Wilderness. I tried to get a feel for the land for that ultra in September, and while I still don't know the actual route I stitched together a route using an app call Komoot, which helped to plan things in advance and also was an invaluable navigation tool during the run itself. The software itself is excellent, absolute top marks, and if you are looking for a tool for planning your cycling, running or hiking routes, this is the only one you need to look at. Trust me. What wasn't quite so good was the quality of the map, and I learned reasonably quickly that just because there is a trail marked on a map that does not mean there is an actual trail on the mountain. After twice getting stuck in a jungle of fern, brambles and gorse I had learned my lesson and started to stick to visible paths instead of blindly following a voice from the mobile. I'm not blaming Kamoot for the lousy map data, btw., the same non-existing trails are in the Strava maps as well.

Anyway, I tagged off Great Sugarloaf (which I had been planning on doing for over a year anyway) and Little Sugarloaf as well on the way back home, though it was mainly hiking and precious little running (as well as scrambling on all fours on some worryingly steep bits), and moving up a steep loose scree slope is bloody hard work, so it definitely was a damn good workout despite the lack of running, and I was out for well over 3 hours - and absolutely knackered afterwards! But it was the good kind of knackered, or "pleasantly tired" as Lydiard would have called it, and I have a good set of memories. I'll head into the mountains again in the following weeks. I clearly need the training!

There's Always Hope

I think the less I train the less I am motivated to update the blog, or maybe those things just happen to coincide. I'm not sure.

Last week was another one with low mileage, at least by my own standards, about 45 miles. I had felt totally dead on my feet on Wednesday and Thursday, so I decided to basically bin the long run on Sunday. I still went out, mostly to test out all my shiny new gear I got for next month's ultra (i.e. a rain jacket and a race vest) but it was for not even 10 miles. I also switched into ultra effort, walking all, well, most of the uphills and taking it easy on the rest as well. I even stopped a couple of times and took a few photos, mostly to switch my brain into non-competitive mode.

My long day is actually Tuesday, and the reason for that is that this is the day where we do a long cycle after work. We'll be doing a 3 day charity ride for Laura Lynn at the beginning of September, in Kerry, and I just could not say no to it. I am finding the cycling surprisingly easy and also surprisingly enjoyable, though maybe it helps that the pace is always rather gentle and not exactly strenuous - my average HR for those rides is barely above 100. However, 3 hours in the saddle after work, added to cycling into work in the morning and doing a 5-mile lunchtime run, adds up to more than 4 hours of exercise in a single day and I sure could feel it into the legs for the next 2 days, hence the easing off.

How much that cycling is helping my fitness towards the ultra I have no idea. I do get the long bouts of exercise but they say it's about "time on feet", and obviously when cycling I'm sitting down, so not exactly on my feet. Then again, Eoin Keith used to do a ton of cycling for his training and he wasn't exactly a bad ultra runner at the time, so it definitely does help (admittedly, he got even better when he started doing more running instead).

The plan for the next few weeks is to do a few long runs on the race route, combining training with a recce, though that is made a bit more complicated by the fact that they still have not confirmed the race route, though I have a reasonably good idea (Bray Head, Little Sugarloaf, Great Sugarloaf, Djouce, and then do it all again on the way back).

On Monday I went out at lunchtime with a work colleague who is training for a sub-3 in Dublin. He did an easy run, which for me was steady pace. I was really surprised afterwards to see that I had done basically the fastest run in this training cycle. I obviously knew I was running faster than normal but we were chatting away the whole time and it didn't feel fast. Funny how that works. Also, I had actually been planning to slow down in my training as the ultra approaches, so if that was a good thing or not is an open question. Mind, 5 miles when you're still managing to chat all the way through doesn't sound like I was overworking myself.

It started raining this week. Maybe that's a good thing. It was really humid all summer, I was always soaked right through after a couple miles of running, which may well have been a major contributing factor to me feeling tired so quickly. I'll see, maybe things will improve. Let's hope so.

Overtraining Syndrome - OTS

I came across this article about overtraining syndrome the other day. While it's not exactly the first time I've been reading about it, it did get me thinking, not least because I have been hearing about it for several years and yet there still seems to be a complete lack of understanding about it, and the less said about the competency of the general medical profession regarding this subject the better.

I know I had been overtraining badly in 2016, but quite possibly also before and since. The "problem" has been that I did not have most of the symptoms described, apart from that significant drop in performance (in 2016 I had the constant fatigue, alright), which ended up with me being in denial for far too long.

My problem was that I lacked the physical performance attributes of most of my peers at the international level but made up much of it in psychological terms, being able to push myself harder than most (not the absolute top guys, obviously). That worked for a couple of years but eventually caught up with me, especially as I kept turning the dial further and further until I reached the point where I was at 11 out of 10 and there was nothing else to give.

Ever since then there has been a decline, steady at first and precipitously the last 2 years or so, and I seem to have reached the point where I can't even run half as much as I used to. I also do wonder if I'm about to fall out of love with running. There are days when I do wonder why I still bother lacing up the shoes. I can't help comparing myself to my only slightly younger self, and we're talking completely different levels of performance here. I actually used to look forward to the time when I would have been retired from competitive running and just go out running for pure joy - unfortunately it doesn't seem to work like that for me. It doesn't help that my legs seem to be completely toast after 90 minutes, no matter what, even if I take it easy the day before, even if I take it easy from the start.

I didn't mean to be whining all throughout the blog post, sorry about that. A part of me keeps thinking that half a year away from running might do me some good, the rest of me keeps shuddering in horror at the mere thought of it.

Cycling seems to be going ok, at least I'm able to keep that up for a few hours without the legs turning into jelly and the energy levels plummeting towards zero. On the other hand I have no real desire ever to enter a cycling race, it just doesn't appeal to me, and to keep cycling on my own for 4, 5, 6 or even more hours on a long ride doesn't sound all that appealing either.

Oh I don't know, I'll figure something out. I  have a race entry for that 50 mile ultra in September, which sounds more and more like a really bad idea but I will be doing it anyway because I'm an idiot, and being an idiot has worked surprisingly well, in general. I will test the theory that running an ultra just for fun is easier than racing a marathon, which never managed to convince me to be honest, but I guess I'll find out.

Twenty Two Years!

Can you imagine being shackled to a complete idiot for 22 years, having to endure all his stupid ideas ("I'm going to run in circles for 24 hours!" "I'm going to run for 153 miles in the heat in Greece!" "I'm going to run in circles for 24 hours again because it didn't hurt THAT much last time"), sometimes even being roped into his games and forced to help out and watch him suffer, and yet somehow still being able to smile? I can't, and yet that's exactly what Niamh had to endure for the last few decades, and for some reason she's still here (she's seriously trying to put an end to that 24 hours running, though). Happy Anniversary!

The blog has taken a little break, mostly because my running has taken a little break as well. I didn't exactly feel super fresh in Vienna, and I didn't exactly feel super fresh on my return. I actually tried to shift training into a new phase, doing hill workouts, a little bit in the old school Lydiard way with bounding up a very steep road and coming down on a more gentle gradient, not least because I realised that I have exactly that setup not even a mile from my front door. I seemed to remember that hill workouts usually brought me along, really strengthening my legs without taking too much out of me, but it turns out I must either have misremembered it all or I've gotten old and things have changed. By last Sunday I was totally knackered after not even 10 miles of hilly running at an easy effort, so I pulled the emergency break and didn't run at all for 3 days. Gasp!

Well, actually it kind of happened because work was so full on that I would have found it hard to find some extra time for a run. Having said that, I know full and perfectly well that if I really want to go for a run I always find a way. But the timing for a break suited me well. Having said all that, I took some time off running but I was still cycling into work each day (which adds up to almost 100 miles a week), I did the training spin with the group from work on Tuesday and I did a charity thing on Saturday in Stillorgan which added up to almost 3 hours on a bike, including cycling to and from Stillorgan, so that must have been about 160 miles of cycling, so it wasn't all that easy a week, really.

Nevertheless, I was working off the theory that cycling uses different muscles and therefore my running muscles should still be fresh. Let's just say, results haven't been exactly in favour of that theory, and my easy long-ish run today on the Cliff Walk via Greystones ended in a bit of misery, though the heat and the fact that I was absolutely parched and had lost about 4 pounds despite drinking a lot before setting off had something to do with it as well.

I tend to feel really thirsty for hours after these runs, even though I'm drinking by the bucket, mostly tea as that is far more appealing than water. A cold beer sounds like absolute heaven right now but unfortunately I am the designated driver to collect wife and children from the Bray Air show, so that is out at the moment.

With all that cycling I am doing in addition to my running I can't help wondering if I should add some swimming as well and have a look at the appeal of the Dark Side again. After all, that big M with a dot on top is still on my bucket list, and I have been putting it off for about 10 years now.

Or is that the idiot in me talking again?

Rotlichtläufer

There's a quirk in the German language that allows you to create new composite words out of existing ones. That's why there exist words like Schadenfreude. It also means you occasionally come across a new word that you haven't heard before even if it's your native tongue, so when Martin asked me if I was a "Rotlichtläufer" ("red light runner") it took me a bit to process that. Not only was the word new, after 16 years in Ireland the entire concept was alien - are you the kind of runner that crosses a road despite the traffic light being red? Well, duh, obviously. Everyone in Ireland is!

I've obviously been away for long enough to lose the Austrian rigidity when it comes to committing minor offences.

Anyway, there are a few things in Austria that are different to Ireland.

Summer is a lot warmer. We actually missed the brutal heatwave and even had a couple of days of intermittent rain but it still got to 28 degrees.

There are quite a few public water spots, though they can be hidden away, a few meters off the road, and if you don't know them you don't see them. When the temperatures are getting close to 30 degrees, you do need them! I got to use one during my long-ish run on Sunday but I still suffered by the end.

The infrastructure is just so much better than in Dublin, from public transport to cycle paths to running paths, to higher quality housing (at a much more affordable price too), to better roads, even significantly better restaurants and I could go on. I can't actually explain why that is, the local politicians are just as inept, corrupt and self-serving as they are here, so I have no idea why the whole government stuff just works better. Oh, the train ticket from the airport to the city centre cost 11 Euro. For the 6 of us! And almost all the museums were free for the kids, up to the age of 18.

There are a lot more cyclists, and since the cycle paths I saw were actually separated from the road, as opposed to someone painting a white line and calling it a cycle path, there is much less animosity between drivers and cyclists. Which is the way it should be, obviously.

There are also a lot more runners. The Prater especially was full of them.

Shop assistants are just as unfriendly ad they used to be. Which is just baffling, even more so now that I work in sales myself, and I do wonder how on Earth they get away with their behavior.

Viennese drivers are dicks. Probably even more so than Dublin ones.

People complain like mad about anything and everything. Wait! That's the same here!

I got to run about 70 miles, same as I would have done in Ireland, though on nicer paths but in sweltering conditions at times. I was completely exhausted after a couple of runs but I attribute that more to the condition there, plus me being on my feet much more during the day, than to a problem with my running. I guess I'll quickly see how thing go now that I'm back home.

Thanks to Martin for showing me some of South-Eastern Vienna on Monday, the one part I am much less familiar with than the rest. I was tempted to explore a bit more on Tuesday on my own but did not want to get hopelessly lost on my last day.

The general agreement was that it was one of our best family holidays ever. The fact that it was only for one week may have helped!

Hofburg

Stefansdom

The Halo Third Man Riesenrad

The road to infinity. Especially at mile 20 in the marathon!

Schönbrunn

Gloriette

Belvedere

Hundertwasserhaus

Belvedere Gardens

Neufelder See

Karlskirche

The kept the gay traffic lights that were installed as a show of tolerance! Too bad the conservatives are blocking any law reforms that would actually put that into reality. Utterly disgraceful!

Imagine

Just Imagine. You're running up that random road at a random time in Birmingham, actually heading in the wrong direction but you don't know that yet, when that woman comes running the other way and you are thinking "that's funny, she has the exact same running style as Olwyn", when she shouts out "Thomas!!!" - IT IS OLWYN!!!! What are the chances! Olwyn quipped we should have bought a lottery ticket instead of going for run.

The reason I was in Birmingham in the first place was a work trip. Just last week I'd told my new manager if I ever needed to go visit a customer in Barcelona or Paris I'm all for it. The message must have gotten garbled somewhere because last Thursday I found myself in an industrial estate in the outskirts of Burton-upon-Trent, which just doesn't have quite the same glamour. And flying into the UK early in the morning and back again in the evening is stressful enough on its own, never mind presenting to a group of C-level execs while there, and I was glad I was able to squeeze in a few miles, as a pure stress reliever more than anything else.

In general, though, it was another easy week. After that 20 miler had me knocked out 2 weeks ago I decided to dial it back a bit. I have a history of overtraining and would rather avoid another one of those episodes. One easy week later I was still not feeling new so I added a second easy week. That said, easy is a relative term. I'm still doing about 70 miles per week but without workouts and without a long run. If the lack of long runs will come back to bite me I shall see, though they always say it's better to be 10% undertrained than 1% overtrained and I'd prefer to see that scenario from the other side for once.

Tuesday was again the biggest day of the week, with the run into work followed by a group jog at lunchtime (very, very easy) and then a cycle in the evening. I generally do enjoy the cycling, though I very much prefer the actual cycling to the standing around that seems to be an inevitable part of those group rides. We had three stops and one of them was for over 16 minutes, after which I was actually frozen stiff and very uncomfortable, so when we reached Enniskerry I actually peeled off the group and went home instead of completing the loop because I was really uncomfortable, and not because of the miles or the pace, those were easily manageable. Maybe I should dress with the standing around in mind rather than the cycling.

As for the running, I couldn't tell if I went by feel alone but the watch and the HR are telling me that I'm getting into better and better shape. The pace on my easy runs is still nothing to write home about, about 8:20-8:40 seems to be where I always end up on my easy days, but even on hilly runs I average a HR in the low 130s, which I only ever get to when I'm in really good condition. You might argue that of course that the HR is low when I'm running so slowly, but also take into account the very high humidity (I'm invariably soaked through after a couple of miles). Also, on tough, steep climbs like the Quarry Road or Bray Head I'm running 20, 30 seconds per mile faster than a month or two ago, even though this is at an easy effort, at least as easy as such a steep hill allows.

Things are definitely heading into the right direction. Now if I could make use of that instead of messing it up, as as my wont, that would actually be great for a change.

Easy Goes

Because last week's long run had me on my knees I decided to take it a bit easier this week. No doubles, no workouts, no long runs. Since I am getting most of my miles by running in or out of work these days I'd still get a decent amount of miles but the hope was that I'd feel better again at the end.

I thin it didn't really work. I never felt as exhausted as last Sunday but I still don't exactly feel like flying, so I'll take another easy-ish week. Things are getting a bit tricky because I have to fly into the UK for work on Thursday and I may or may not be able to run, and then we're off on our holidays soon after, which is great, don't get me wrong, but with the temperatures high enough to fry an egg without a stove in Europe at the moment that might make running a bit tricky there. I'll see.

Most of the week I ran a slightly shorter route into work, 9 miles instead of 10, and it cuts right through Cabinteely Park, which may well be one of the best parks in Dublin (well, if you like steep hills, that is) but it also contains a section right along the N11 dual carriage way, and to make it worse there are building works there as well at the moment, so you take the good with the bad.

Also, Tuesday wasn't really the kind of day that would sit easily inside an easy week, with a run to work in the morning, a group run at lunchtime and a 35-ish miles cycle in the evening, again with the group from work. Maybe I shouldn't have but I really enjoy training with a group after years of almost all solo efforts, and running into work just fits easily into the rest of the weekly schedule, with having to organise the bike and the work clothes all in advance.

After last week's run to Dun Laoghaire Norbert suggested running along the coast rather than a few streets further inland, so on Saturday I headed into Shankill to figure out where that route would go. The resulting run on Strava is almost comical, with me running into just about every single dead end possible but missing one little lane, which of course was the one that I was actually looking for. Ah well, that's exactly why I scouted out the area in advance after all.

And since I didn't have a long run for Sunday I did the Seahorse run via the Cliff Walk again, the smaller version that is just 12 miles. During the first mile I was dismayed because the hamstrings/glutes really did not feel good at all but they did loosen up to some extend after a while and then I actually felt pretty light on my feet. The pace still wasn't much to write home about but on such a hilly run it's hard to compare, especially since the Cliff Walk itself is a bit tricky at times with the stony surface and the occasional mud hole, and the occasional walker who seems to think they need to block the entire path (the vast majority are perfectly nice, friendly and accommodating, though).

Fallen Warrior

A few years ago someone posted a question on a popular Irish discussion forum about falling over while running. I remember thinking there must be something wrong with that guy if he keeps falling over while running on roads. Oh my, how I have changed my mind! The difference is all about running on roads in Kerry, where you actually do run on roads, and in the greater Dublin area, where you mostly run on sidewalks. And since for some daft reason they a) construct sidewalks out of concrete blocks that often don't fit together particularly well b) think that they don't have to maintain them, they become a serious trip hazard. Since moving here I must have stumbled over some minuscule but virtually invisible step about once a week, and on a handful of occasions I have taken a full spill, including once that sidelined me for 6 weeks with injury earlier this year.

I had yet another one on Monday and my right knee looked rather gruesome, together with some serious lacerations on both hands. There will always be a part of me left behind in Shankill, though Niamh was more worried that some part of Shankill will now forever be left inside of me because the wounds looked so dark and dirty. A week on I guess the risk of infection might have subsided, though I'll bear the scars for a while longer, but at least this time I didn't get injured, which is definitely good news.

Apart from that little drama it was a week similar to the last few. I did manage to run a bit over 80 miles and I did a long cycle with the group from work on Tuesday as well. Most of the week I did feel pretty well, though the legs were a bit tired on Wednesday after that long cycle. However, I did get it wrong over the weekend.

I did another workout on Saturday in Bray's People's Park, this time doing half laps fast(-ish) with the second half of each lap as recovery. The idea was to work a bit on my leg turnover and half laps should do that better than full laps. As always I left after feeling that I had one more lap in me, but actually I thought I had done six when looking at the data afterwards revealed I had done only five! Apart from that I was pleased with the workout, going at pretty much the same pace with each repeat and the effort felt right, even though the HR never rose above 164, which I cannot quite explain - I seem to have lost the ability to raise my HR over the last year!

The drawback of that was that I started Sunday's long run on already tired legs, and I chose to run to Dun Laoghaire and turn around after 10 miles. This can work both ways - when you're tired you might curse yourself for being still so far away from home on dead legs, but it can work in your favour by not giving you the option of cutting a run short unnecessarily. On the way out I did question if that really was such a good idea, and on the way back home I gradually came to the realisation that this had indeed been a bad idea and the last few miles were a struggle and not pretty. I also passed Norbert out on his own run in the area, though thankfully I was on a downhill stretch at the time and could fake to be moving reasonably well. About a mile from home I had yet another fall, re-opening a few barely healed wounds in my hands but no real damage done. This one was almost certainly due to me being too tired to lift the legs properly any more, but I did curse and "not again" at the time.

Quarry Road

At the tail end of last year I did one run with Gary when he slowed down to my snail's pace and I sped up close to breaking point, which ended up as almost the same pace. Towards the end we ran past yet another innocuous side road when he told me about Quarry Road, and how tough the hill repeats on it were. I was too tired already by that point to take much notice, desperately trying not to collapse while he jogged on as slowly as he could.

When I saw Norbert on strava running that very road the other day I remembered it again, and decided to give it a go. In fact, it seemed such a good idea that I decided to do it three times, following my usual rule that anything worth doing is worth doing to excess (which is what ultra running is all about, after all).

One thing you can be sure is that if Gary says a road is tough then it really it is tough! The climb itself is just under a mile long but the sting towards the end when it turns from really steep into really fucking stupid steep is particularly stingy. At least the trail for the downhill is nice, though Norbert since told me the alternative route is much nicer. Next time. Wait, what bloody next time?

Before that it was yet another week of quite high mileage but it feels totally doable. Tuesday was a big day with a run into work, a short-ish run at lunchtime with the group from work (which was very small, but still) and then a bike ride in the evening with yet another group (this one a big one), which all added up to well over 4 hours of exercise, which did indeed leave me a bit tired on Wednesday. At least the calves were because they kept feeling a bit tender for the rest of the week, not that it had any real impact on my running. In fact, on Thursday I felt good enough to run a bit faster on my commute home, something I had vague ideas of doing for a while but up to now never felt up to it. But now I can finally feel my fitness levels really picking up.

Maybe I should say my fitness levels are finally returning. The disastrous race in Irding was almost a year ago and I have been feeling it ever since. I finally seem to have started getting over it, a full year later. I don't know why it was quite so bad - a month before that race I had felt really good and then it all came just crashing down, and the effects lasted for a year. However, my fears that I was done for good seem to have been unfounded - I can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Just Like Heaven

I can't remember if it was for Christmas or my birthday but Niamh gave me 2 tickets for The Cure in Malahide in June, which also solved the dilemma if I should go to see The Cure or Metallica, which for some inexplicable reason were on at the exact same time. While Metallica would have been my natural choice, Slane is such a nightmare to come home from afterwards, and The Cure happen to be just about the only band both Niamh and me like (we tried to think of another one and couldn't come up with any!), so off the Malahide it was. The concert was great, and while I was struck by the fact that virtually the entire crowd was about my age (including the guys on stage, of course) I appreciated the fact that afterwards we just walked to the Dart station and straight away got on a train that brought us all the way to Bray. Metallica would have seen me back home by 3 o'clock in the morning at best.

Anyway, this was a pretty good week. I did a modest workout on Tuesday, something I have tried and failed to do on several occasions because I found it hard to believe just how modest a modest workout would be, but I finally found a sustainable pace. maybe a tad too sustainable, but it left me free to run a few extra miles on Wednesday by running both into work as well as back, which went much better than expected.

Two more commutes on Thursday and Friday were starting to feel rather heavy on the legs, especially on Friday because a run in the morning after an evening run the day before always feel tough, but I was amazed by the difference another day made - a mere 24 hours later on Saturday morning the legs felt fantastic!

For that I headed for the hills again, well, just the one hill in form of Bray Head, but to make up for that I ran it 5 times. At the start I actually had to reign myself in, I felt so good that the legs were just itching to take off. Just as I was thinking of doing 6 repeats this morning, I started to stumble a few times during the fifth ascend, so I reasoned that I was getting tired after all and binned the sixth repeat, mostly because I didn't want to trip and smash my face in. Running on stony trails is tricky enough for me, short-sighted as I am, and fatigued legs with compromised perception is asking for trouble.

As mentioned that was followed by The Cure concert, and great as that was it meant several extra hours on my feet and by Sunday I did notice that, alright. So I decided against a run to Dun Laoghaire because I didn't want to find myself dead on my feet 10 hilly miles away from home and headed for Shanganah Park instead, doing a few laps until I would start to feel tired. That was definitely a good move and after 10 miles I could definitely feel the form starting to deteriorate and the breathing to become more laboured, and I was home after just under 2 hours. I really don't think any longer would have been a good idea.

It still added up to over 80 miles for the week, which is just about the mileage I was always able to maintain comfortably, so I will see if that's still the case in the next few weeks.

Clinging On

I've heard it a lot. To become a better runner you must run with someone faster than you. In Kerry I never had that luxury - while there clearly were plenty of runners faster than me, they weren't around at 6 o'clock in the morning in Caragh Lake, and I did the vast majority of my miles on my own. Maybe that's why I always preferred the longer distances - long miles are easier done on your own than speed workouts. However, I got a bit of a taste of that medicine on Tuesday when running with the group from work.

Usually we just do a few miles but occasionally someone does a workout, and this week I decided to do a "Kenyan fartlek", one minute on, one minute off. And I didn't have to do it on my own, and the other guy was definitely faster than me, and so, just by trying to keep up, it became a much harder workout than it would have been otherwise.

If that's a good thing or not, actually, isn't quite so obvious. I don't want to work myself into the ground again and I have learned that running tough workouts in base training is doing exactly that to me, so I better don't do that too often.

Because I got a taste of speed workout on Tuesday I chose to do some hill repeats again on my "other" workout day, Saturday. Bray Head has become my venue of choice for that. I'd prefer a longer climb, like the Windy Gap in Caragh lake, but I haven't found a runnable one close enough to home, so Bray Head it is for the time being, and I tend to do several repeats. Actually, because I was caught for time I only did 4 repeats this week, one less than last week. However, despite definitely trying not to go too hard I am getting faster at these, so something is definitely working. Also, despite feeling a bit worn out at the start I somehow felt much better as the workout went on, until I felt really good at the fourth one, enough to wish I'd have time for more.

Then again, limiting that to 4 repeats was most likely a good thing because the next day I crashed and burned on my long run. It was a warm and humid day and leaving it to 9 o'clock before heading out was not a good idea, and after 12 or so miles I was burning up in the heat, relative as it may have been. I had planned 18 miles but cut it short and was home just after 17, totally done - 12 would have done me that day, thank you very much, and the last 5 were definitely a struggle.

It all added up to about 66 miles this week, a bit less than last week but still in the same ballpark, plus a fair amount of cycling,.

Oh, and I'm actually signed up for another race, though I don't have to worry about it for a while yet. The Donadea 50k in February was close to being full up already, so I signed up before it was too late. And I never expected to get an elite entry into a race ever again, so that was an ego-boost that I didn't say no to - just try and not be the slowest "elite" on the day.

Finding A New Routine

I actually thought I was doing an easy week. It sure started very easy with 5 and 4.5 miles on Monday/Tuesday. After that it got a bit more complicated because with work being very busy the easiest option by far was to run either in or out of work, and that's exactly what I did, which means about 10 miles a day. However, I felt pretty good, so I think my body is finally able to handle that kind of mileage again, building itself up while doing it rather than breaking down.

Saturday has become the day of a (modest) workout, and I have been alternating hills and faster stuff recently and saw no real reason to change things. Back to hill running it was, in my case a few repeats up and down Bray Head. It has become my "Windy Gap" replacement after my move from Kerry. It's not quite the same but not a bad option.

Last time round I was pretty shattered after 4 repeats and the quads were sore for at least 2 days, so I was rather pleased to be able to do 5 and go home with at least one more in me if I had to, and the quads were perfectly fine the next day. The one thing I remember most, however, was another hill runner doing almost the same route on one of my repeats. On the uphill we were doing a very similar pace but boy things changed on the downhill! He went down the hill so fast, and on the steep, stony part he just seemed to float over the trail while I awkwardly picked my steps. Great technique, awesome to watch!

Anyway, the fact that my quads were fine on Sunday meant this time I didn't have to bin the long run and I went along the coast to Dun Laoghaire. The 10 mile point was about a quarter along the pier, and there I turned around and ran the same way back home. I swear the damn wind must have turned right at the same time because I seemed to run into a headwind in both directions! The outward leg had passed so quickly I could barely believe I was already in Dun Laoghaire but the return journey was a bit more challenging. However I was still in reasonable shape when I got home, so all good.

I'm keeping a reasonably close eyes on my numbers and they have been steadily going upwards, which is great to see. Let's hope it will continue, and if it doesn't I will rethink my approach.

I did one other thing this week, namely a group ride with another dozen cyclists from work on Tuesday evening. We will be doing a charity ride in September, in Kerry, which I am really looking forward to, but I need a few hours in the saddle to get used to being on the bike for a few hours at a time. I won't have any issues with fitness - during the ride my average HR was 98, which is barely higher than most people have from standing still. I don't think I will get much training benefit from it, but it's definitely a good bit of fun.

Total mileage this week was just under 70 miles, which I expect will be fairly typical for the next few weeks.

Running Camp

I was basically forced to take a week's holiday. Well, not exactly forced as such, but still having some leftover days from last year's allocation it was either take them now or lose them entirely, and as much as I like my job I don't think my present employer is in much need of unnecessary gifts, so home I stayed for a week.

Not someone to sit around on the couch all day (and daytime television is a particularly savage version of hell) I did a bit of running while I had the time. Ok, so I did plenty of running. I was basically an attempt to overreach for a bit and then pull back and let the gains sink in. The overreaching bit definitely worked, I was knackered around Wednesday, let's see if the taking it easy bit works - never a strength of mine.

The weather was really nice for the first few days. Well, at least the sun was shining, though it was accompanied by a surprisingly cold wind but it was enough for me to get a bit of a tan, which is obviously what's supposed to happen in your holidays, though it generally doesn't happen when you spend your entire time in Bray.

I did 82 miles this week, with a couple of long-ish runs (not quite 17 on Wednesday, 18 on Sunday), and felt like hell on Wednesday but surprisingly good on Sunday. The fact that I was down to 140.6 pounds after Wednesday's run gives you a clue why I suffered - it was over 5 pounds less than on the day before and afterwards. Running for over 2 hours in the sun can severely dehydrate you, by the looks of it. I know, what amazing wisdom!

I did attempt some sort of workout on Friday. Since a HR of 160 turned out to be too much last time I tried, I went to 150-155, while doing repeats in Bray's Peoples Park, alternating one loop (pretty much 1k) at pace and half a loop for recovery. I had modest expectations but it was even worse than I imagined - on the plus side this time I didn't fell like keeling over, but I was toast after 3 repeats, and the pace was barely faster than 7-minute miles. Jesus Christ, only a few years ago I ran entire marathons half a minute per mile faster than that! Admittedly it was after a fairly tough week, but still.

So basically my endurance as such seems to be coming back nicely but as soon as the legs are turning over a bit faster I start to fall apart very quickly. The one thing I don't want to do now is force the issue and whip myself into shape with a set of brutal workouts - that doesn't work, I've learned as much. I need to try and nudge myself along gently - like I said already, never exactly a strength of mine.

Upwards and Onwards

The past week was the one where I finally felt some real progress had been made. The legs might not have felt perfect but all of a sudden my pace is dropping, the HR is somewhat stable (not entirely) and I'm starting to wonder if there might actually be some life left in the old dog.

I did a couple of runs that felt as easy as the other ones but the pace was below 8-minute miles, and it's been quite some time that I have been able to write such a sentence. While an 8-minute mile is just as arbitrary as any other pace it feels like a bit of a threshold and it happened to be my easy run pace for many years. I do want to point out, though, that I never paced myself deliberately to run a certain pace - on my easy runs I just run the pace that comes naturally and an 8-minute mile was generally the outcome.

I'm sure the recent improvement in form is related to a bit of faster running I did recently, and it's quite amazing just how much effect just a little workout can have in that regard and how quickly it starts to work. All the same, I have to be careful - my history of overtraining is directly related to running too many fast miles, and they don't even have to be particularly fast. Just a bit too fast and things can crumble.

My one workout this week was a little bit different. Instead of running intervals or a tempo run I headed to Bray Head and ran up that little mountain. The original plan had been to go up and down two or three times but the lower third of that climb, the one inside the wood, was very muddy and I was slipping all over the place so on subsequent attempts I ran back down only to that point where the mud started before turning around, and I did that smaller section three times in addition to the full climb at the beginning. All in all it added up to a bit over 9 miles of running and 1650 feet / 500 meters of elevation change, and I got home feeling I had done just the right amount of work.

Well, looks like my quads disagreed and on Sunday morning they were distinctly sore. I had forgotten how tough a few steep downhill miles are on unaccustomed legs. As a result I postponed the long run I had planned for that day and just did a bog-standard 10 miler instead, which went surprisingly well, even on less than perfect legs.

I'm up to about 60 miles a week, give or take a little, which is a lot less than I used to do but my legs seem to be okay with that kind of mileage at the moment. I'm actually off work this week, staying at home, and the weather is gorgeous, so I guess I'll take advantage of that fact and do a bit more. I'll keep an eye on the recovery - or at least I'll try to, restraint has not exactly been my strong point in the past.

We Need To Talk About Kevin

A few days ago I realised that I was not signed up for any race at the moment. I don't know the last time that was the case, it might have been about 10 years ago! That doesn't stop me from running, of course, but it means I am not focused on anything right now. In all honesty, I think that's a good thing right now. Too often I have focused too much on the next event and over-exerted myself in training, and not only did it come back to bight me a few times, eventually it all proved too much and my body stopped cooperating properly, overtrained.

While the time off earlier this year was very frustrating, I can sense that it actually did me some good and allowed some things that were out of whack to get back into balance. The challenge is now to keep it that way, something I am not particularly good at but the lack of focus might help in that matter.

I ran a few more miles than the previous week, and the mileage got to about 100k, give or take a bit. That might sound an awful lot to the average runner but it just kinda crept up on me, without trying to hit a certain mileage. The legs are definitely starting to feel much better again, after Connemara, and things are definitely improving.

My easy pace is somewhere around 8:30 these days, which isn't fast by any means. I used to run a minute faster on my easy days. But that's fine. If the pace comes down with training then that's great, and if it doesn't then I will just keep running in my post-competitive stage.

At some point I will need to decide what I'm going to do next. I can definitely rule out a long ultra this year, I have already decided that. I guess I will run a race in the autumn, but which one remains to be seen. If they re-open entries for Dublin then I might try and sign up, otherwise I might look at one of the hillier options around here - there's plenty of those around.

And for next year? Who knows! Niamh keeps telling me at every possible opportunity that 24-hour races are off the agenda, but that may or may not be the case. As for my cheeky suggestion of a 48 hour race instead - I can't tell you her response, this is a family-friendly blog (well, sometimes). Maybe focusing on some shorter distances might have some merit, I know at least a couple of guys roughly my age who did very well in that, but shorter distances were never really my thing and I don't think I'll get the taste for it now.

Anyway, I did an attempt at a workout on Saturday but got the effort wrong, too high. I thought aiming for a HR of 160 was reasonable enough, after all that used to be my evaluation effort, but it was too hard and after 1.5 miles I had to pull the plugged, totally cooked already. The strong wind at Bray promenade sure didn't help but I guess I'll have to dial it down a bit. On the plus side I did a loop around Peoples Park in Bray, along the Dargle river, and liked what I saw. I don't know why it took me over a year to check it out but it might be a really good venue for those kind of workouts in future.

I also did the Cliff Walk (well, Run) again, and wouldn't you know it, taking it easy on the way to Greystones means the return leg will feel much more doable! Who'd have thunk it! I also broke a long standing habit of mine and actually has some bites to eat before heading out for my long run instead of running it in a fasted state. I wanted the final 2 miles, uphill, to be less of a suffer fest and lo and behold, it worked. Eating breakfast and waiting for close to two hours before running isn't practicable on most  days, and running in a fasted state does bring its own benefits, but in that case it was definitely the right choice.

Oh, and Niamh got to talk to her uncle Kevin on Saturday. He is in his eighties now but he still walks for half an hour every day, and does up to 25 km on the weekends. (!!!!) He looks at least 20 years younger. When I grow up, I want to be Uncle Kevin!

Happy Birthday

Ok so, now where were we? Ah yes, bent over the railing of the Connemara finish, trying to keep upright, not entirely successfully.

I actually met a work colleague who had come to the finish specifically to meet me, she was a bit worried about me but I knew I would be fine once I could sit down and get a few calories into me, which is exactly what happened. The journey home, involving 3 different buses, wasn't the most comfortable journey ever but lying in the softest bed there is wouldn't have felt comfortable either, so there.

I was reasonably ok the next day and even managed to cycle to and from work without issues. The legs remained a bit sore for about 3-4 days, a bit longer than usual but that's a reflection of the sub-optimal training beforehand and entirely to be expected.

The week after the race I ran a few slow, easy miles every second day. In fact, it was so slow that I ended up running on my own for the lunchtime group run from work because nobody else wanted to share my snails pace effort, so I watched then inching away from me instead, not that I was even remotely tempted to speed up.

Things got better after a while and the second week I was back running every day, and feeling ok with it. I got to 10 miles this morning, and while the legs were feeling distinctively flat, the distance didn't bother them at all.

Then

Now

However, another and much more important feat of endurance was the twins' 18th birthday. There were times when I wondered if we would ever make it this far, but somehow we managed it.

They're still screaming as much as in the first photo, just the dramas are slightly different ones.

A Picture Paints A Thousand Words

Finished, in every sense of the word!

I Used To Be Good At This, You Know

The Connemara Ultra is an iconic race in Ireland, and it used to be an absolute highlight of my running year, at least during the earlier stages of my running life. Things changed a bit 5 years ago, when Ray stopped being the race director it lost some of its shine and I had not been back since. Having said that, the reviews were still as good as ever, so when a few months ago a colleague at work asked me if I were interested in running it as part of a group that remembers Simone Grassi, a two-times winner of the marathon, I agreed to do it and so I was back at the start line after a 5 year absence.

Things had not changed much at all. In fact, the only two things I noticed differently were the fact that we were asked to run on the left side of the road rather than the right side, and the fact that Ray was not there. Apart from that the new organisers wisely left all the good bits in it, and it's still as brilliant a race as ever.

What's changed a bit is myself, and try as you might I knew I was in for my slowest time ever, barring a miracle. Losing 6 weeks in training at a crucial time is not something you can make up for, I really only got 2 decent weeks of training, and those were damn close to the race date at a time when I would usually have been looking at tapering, so I was under no illusions. I expected a very tough time ahead, even more so after cramping on my only 20 mile day, less than 2 weeks ago.

Never mind, we were actually pleasantly surprised by the fact that the torrential rain had stopped just in time as we gathered at the start line, it would have been an utterly miserable 20 minutes wait otherwise. I was particularly glad, standing there in my shorts and t-shirt when almost everyone else was wearing a jacket, and most of them with a backpack as well. However, I make those choices out of experience as well as personal preferences; on a cold day you're overdressed if you're not cold at the start, and I definitely don't see the point of carrying my own water around when there are aid stations every 3 miles.

Anyway, I started a good bit further back than usual and then drifted a few places further back with a slow first mile. All good. I got a couple of comments of "what are you doing back here" and "someone took your place up front" and responded that he must be 10 years younger. Then Barry pulled alongside and we fell into step, chatting relentlessly along the way, and the scene for the first few hours was set. We are both very experienced ultra runners and knew what we were doing. After a few miles a few guys went past, one of them commenting that they were probably doing something wrong passing us out, which reminded me of thinking exactly the same 5 years ago when I went past Eoin Keith early in a race. Ah yes, the good old times. Barry and myself talked a lot about them, and eventually Paul started running alongside us and got to hear a few good stories along the way.

The wind had been almost non-existent at the start but picked up considerably a few miles in, and at that point it was pushing us along, making things very easy. Obviously we knew there would be a price to pay, but so far so good. The first miles just flew by, and we were at the marathon start before we knew it.

In past years I would have caught up with the marathon field in next to no time but today they had been long gone when we got there in 1:53-ish. I picked up a nice bottle of sports drink, which hit the spot and was probably a factor in how easy the next few miles felt, though the fact that we had a rather strong wind pushing us along was a bigger one. At mile 17 or 18 Paul marvelled how easy it all felt, how he had never gotten so far feeling so fresh. The one downer was at the mile 19 checkpoint, where my prepared drinks bottle had gone missing from the ultra table. I had known perfectly well that this had always been a realistic possibility but I still wished the arsehole who had stolen someone else's bottle off the aid station table some violent diarrhea and a miserable race.

Anyway, the sharp turn towards the first proper climb of the day wasn't far off by now, and I pointed out to the lads that I hoped they were ready for 20 miles of headwind!

It wasn't a hard prediction to make.

As soon as we took that corner the wind was in our faces and we had plenty of time to get used to it. At first it was still all good, we all had gotten to that point in pretty decent shape, and by now we had finally caught up with the tail end of the marathon and gradually started reeling in a few of the stragglers. That first climb isn't all that long (I call it the "half a hill") and the "Stop and Pray"church wasn't as inviting yet as I thought it would be.

But there was no doubt that the real work of the day had started, and Barry was the first to feel the effects of a cramp, which was damn early in the race and with a lot of miles yet to go. He was actually moving pretty well when he could, but every now and then had to pull up and deal with cramp. Not good. We got to the downhill part into Leenane, found that running right behind an ambulance still did not provide any wind cover but a lot of Diesel fumes. The road into Leenane is always a bit longer than you think,and by the time I got there I was somehow running on my own again. The 13.1 miles since Louch Inagh had taken me almost 2 hours and I passed the marathon point in about 3:53. From the way the miles had felt I would have thought I would get there a bit quicker, but obviously the clock doesn't lie. However, I was still in reasonably good shape, which was good because the last half marathon would be significantly more challenging.

I might have felt okay but that feeling evaporated in no time whatsoever as soon as I started on the steep climb out of Leenane. Its the other hill of the course, the Hell of the West, that gets all the headlines but personally I think this one, the Devil's Mother, is worse (and the names here are somewhat telling). The wind was brutal, right into my face and I'm sure the valley ahead of us created a kind of funneling effect and doubled the wind speed. It was also much steeper than I could remember. In years gone past I had known that race so well I thought you could drop me off anywhere on the course and I would immediately know exactly where I was but the intervening years have obviously had an effect, though as I went along all the memories of yesteryear kept coming back again.

Anyway, I kept battling up the climb and I kept running because I knew that once I started walking everything would still hurt just as much but progress would be much slower and it would be a struggle to start running again. So I kept running, albeit slowly. Until the moment when I didn't, somehow. Not sure how that happened but it just seemed to take too much energy to run yet another step that barely brought me further up the hill and all of a sudden I found myself walking, thoroughly pissed off with myself for being so soft but at the same time utterly incapable of running again.

I kept on walking for most of the second half of the climb, not quite a mile, and three times unsuccessfully tried to start running again, unable to do so and having serious doubts about the miles again. Once I reached the top I eventually managed to get into a shuffle again, a rather pathetic one that was barely faster than walking but eventually the legs started loosening up to some extend and at least you could call it a run again.

From there on I was making a noise with each breath, and if you hear tales from the tail end of the marathon field about an ultra runner who was moaning with each step, yup, that was me. But I was making progress again, gradually making my way through the field, mostly the marathon field but I also started to reel in quite a few ultra runners as well as the miles passed by, always with some mutual words of encouragement. We were all in this together.

This was tough, definitely, but in all honesty it was going better than expected. I definitely had thought I would be battling tooth and nail with my cramping calves by now, but they behaved pretty well. I did notice one stark contrast to years gone by, however. I am used to weaving my way through the massed ranks of the half marathon on this stretch, and today there was just a sparse sprinkling of marathon runners left, which made for a very different experience. The running itself, however, felt just as tough, despite the slower pace.

Having said that, progress was much better than I could have hoped for. I had found the level of discomfort I was able to tolerate and got into a groove, steadily making my way towards the finish. The mile signs kept appearing reasonably quickly and with each sign I knew I was getting a good bit closer to the end. It was just a matter of keeping going, never mind that moaning noise I kept producing with each breath.

Knowing the area pretty well I kept seeing glimpses of the Hell from way back, and before I really knew it I was already at the bridge in Maam, and shortly after that the climb started. One thing to add, by the time I got there they had already run out of sports drink both in Leenane as well as in Maam, which wasn't great. Basically, it means that the one group of runners who might need some sustenance the most, the ultra runners, aren't getting any. Yeah, not great. Thankfully I had some carbs in my own pockets (some chews, from some goody bag from a race gone past that I happened to find in the cupboard when packing my bag the day before, and I never bothered to check the expiry date) and they made a massive difference. Every time I got some sugar I got a little boost that kept me going for another couple of miles, and by the time I was running out of them I was close enough to finish to keep running on fumes alone.

The Hell of the West was definitely the one place where I had been absolutely convinced my calves would be in full cramping mode, but somehow they were still working away perfectly fine, despite the 35 miles I had already covered by now. I cannot explain why that was the case. I had been so convinced that I would be cramping today that I had started to wonder if that negative attitude would actually bring on a cramp (the head works funnily in running, especially in ultra running), but that was obviously not the case. And unlike the earlier hill I had a handle on this one, I kept running and passing a lot of runners (including the back end of the half marathon by now). Having said that, the climb seemed to go on forever, there was always another turn when you thought you were on the last one, and another steep bit when you thought it was flattening out, but after an age of sisyphean effort we actually made it to the top, well past the 37 mile marker, which I had mistakenly expected to mark the top.

In theory you can see the finish from the top, but not if you're as short-sighted as me and not wearing glasses because you expected it to rain for the full 6 hours. Never mind, I knew where it was and I still knew the road towards the finish pretty damn well - a mile of downhill that feels pretty quick and a flat mile to the finish that keeps going on forever. I was still in reasonable shape, passed a few more runners and actually posted one of my faster miles today, and then, a very long time after starting, crossed the finish line in 6:06.

The time was pretty much what I had expected, though for much of the race the effort I had put in had felt faster than the pace I was actually able to churn out. The last 13 miles had taken me 2:13, contrast that to the 1:41 the same stretch had taken me 5 years earlier, though I can say with all honesty that today's effort had been at least at the same level, it's just the result that was different.

However, I was actually pretty happy about the race. I am still amazed about the fact that I had no problem with cramps today, and I really cannot explain why not, I wish I could. I am just as happy about the effort I put in, it was an equally honest effort as I used to produce in my competitive days and I could not have asked for any more. That mile coming out of Leenane had cost me a potential sub-6 finish but I just had not been able to run that hill, and scraping home under 6 hours would still have been my slowest Connemara time ever, so not really much of a difference.

I missed being greeted by Ray at the finish line, that's something that won't happen again, which is a shame, though I cannot fault the present organisers for any of their efforts, it is still a first rate race and one of the best in the country. I have the sneaking suspicion that I might be back for more.

14 Apr

Connemara Ultra

39.3 miles, 6:06:41, 9:19 pace, HR 142

At Last - An Actual Training Week

Well, looks like this was the week when I actually started to feel good again, did some faster running without even noticing, and the miles added up a bit more than recently as well. In fact, I think if I had a bit more time I'd actually be able to whack myself into pretty decent shape. Shame I'm running out of time. In fact, this week may well have been a bit much with Connemara only a week away but I needed that kind of week, for the head more so than the legs. They say you need to trust the training when you start the taper, and I definitely had no reason to put any trust in my preparation until a few weeks ago, out as I was with injury.

I actually expected to feel tired at the start of the week after that hilly run on Sunday, but a slow easy run on Monday seems to have been all I needed. On Tuesday I headed out with some work colleagues at lunchtime, as we usually do when we manage to snag some time away from the desk, and I kept chatting to Norbert all the way - and for some reason we got a little bit faster with each lap. I swear I didn't push the pace, so does he, but somehow we just kept turning the screw, unnoticeable if it hadn't been for the watch, and that thing doesn't lie. However, I take the fact that I could run a couple of sub-8 minute miles without noticing as a very good sign.

Wednesday's run commute into the office was almost routine but it was Thursday that really surprised me. I had actually planned to run to and from work that day but my schedule just did not allow that and I only had a very limited window at lunchtime, which had me running a little bit faster than I would have otherwise, but I sure did not expect to average 7:38 pace. That's close to the pace I used to run on my easy days in my better years, and I didn't expect to see that figure ever again on a non-workout day. So I was happy anyway.

I did the to-and-from work thingy on Friday. It's getting a bit close to Connemara for that kind of thing, so I made doubly sure to take it easy. The legs actually felt pretty good, even in the evening - at least once the first mile or two was behind me. I thought the evening run was a good bit slower because I really took it exceptionally easy, but that turned out to be wrong. Funny how perception can be so off at times. However, the right calf muscle started to cramp up towards the end, which was a very unwelcome surprise. I had almost forgotten about my cramping issues. It doesn't bode well for Connemara, and the Hell of the West may be even more hellish than usual.

After an easy Saturday I did the Seahorse run to Greystones and back via the Cliff Walk, though it was a shorter version than last week because I left out the loop through Greystones. I started out feeling really good but my energy ran out halfway through and the run back home was a bit of a struggle, depleted and dehydrated - running without breakfast can have that effect at times.

And so I am just one week away from Connemara. It will probably my longest race for the year since I decided to give my body a bit of a break (a relative break, that is), and, as mentioned, I'd have loved to have some more time but I can't turn back time, and so I just have to suck it up. It's actually not the first time that I'm tackling a 39 mile ultra with way too little training after injury, I did the same in Achill 2015 and I survived that one as well, though the last loop was definitely a struggle. Ah well. It's not meant to be easy!

1 Apr

4.97 miles, 42:29, 8:33 pace, HR 135

2 Apr

4.93 miles, 39:48, 8:04 pace, HR 148

3 Apr

10.23 miles, 1:31:49, 8:59 pace, HR 140

4 Apr

4.55 miles, 34:46, 7:38 pace, HR 150

5 Apr

am: 10.22 miles, 1:27:25, 8:33 pace, HR 142

pm: 10.24 miles, 1:25:32, 8:21 pace, HR 143

6 Apr

6.31 miles, 56:12, 8:54 pace, HR 139

7 Apr

12.03 miles, 1:45:51, 8:48 pace, HR 150