Four Mountains and Almost a Funeral

I don't think I ever got the chance to sleep in my own bed and wake up naturally at my usual time and still be able to comfortably make the start of an ultra race. It sure never happened in Kerry, so that was definitely a new-found luxury. Too bad I still didn't manage to sleep properly - it was the usual sleepless night before a big race.

I got Niamh to drop me down to the Prom, less than 10 minutes from home, to the race start. After the usual plenty of hellos to familiar faces (and a couple of unfamiliar ones) we lined up at the start and at 8:30 am, a fairly civilised time, we set off. The 80k had about 150 starters I guess, but there were 3 shorter options available today as well and apparently they had 1100 runners signed up!

Bray Head

I have done a lot of ultras but it was only my second mountain ultra and it was definitely new territory for me. I have more or less gotten used to the fact that I'm no longer competitive at the front end of the field (not that I ever would have been in the mountains), so the plan was to enjoy it as much as I could. I had scouted out most of the route in the last 2 months and gotten quite familiar with the trails, so I knew very well what was in store. Thankfully the weather forecast had improved just a day before the race an it was to be a nice enough day, though I knew I would run the last hour or two in the rain. I reckoned by that time I would be past caring.

View of Greystones from Bray Head

I spent a couple of miles chatting to Liam, having run a fair few races together in the past. He had finished hours ahead of me in Connemara half a year ago and is much more used to running in the mountains but had missed vast chunks of training with injury, so I guess we were matched much closer this time round. Mind, I was a bit undertrained myself, deliberately so, because I really did not want to fall into my customary overtraining trap and had definitely erred on the side of caution.

The first climb may well have been the steepest one already and I started hiking sooner than most others around me, not willing to waste my energy at the very first opportunity already. The footing up Bray Head from the Bray side isn't great either but with fresh legs that's not an issue. I was already dreading having to descend it on destroyed legs at the end of the race, though - but there was no point in worrying about that already.

Little Sugarloaf

After Bray Head we entered the usually off-limits swanky Kilruddery estate, which was a first for me, and got a few easy miles in before the next climb, Little Sugarloaf. We didn't go all the way to the top but crossed over on a rough trail towards Kilmacanogue where we crossed the M11 via the footbridge and headed towards the proper mountain area away from civilisation.

I was happy to have done some training on those trails because familiarity definitely helped, but I was especially glad when I passed the turn-off for the Sugarloaf trail because that happened to be the one junction of the entire race that was poorly marked - I only spotted a bit of yellow marking tape further up the trail because I was really looking for it, and I was only looking so closely because I had expected to be heading up there. A few more flags and a marshall right at that point would have been more appropriate.

Great Sugarloaf

Anyway, that's where the climbing started in earnest as we did the big loop on the flanks of Great Sugarloaf. Again, we didn't actually cross over the top because the summit cone is rather eroded and definitely would not have been suitable for the big numbers in today's races, but it was still a very long climb.

Still, I felt really good coming into the Sugarloaf aid station, not quite 10 miles in, enjoying the breathtaking views and looking forward to the next mountain, Djouce, already. I also heard one runner complaining about that badly signposted junction, but I haven't heard any complaints from anyone in the shorter races since, so they may well have solved the issue for the later starts.

I used to get frustrated by people doing selfies
during a race. Now I'm one of them.

Anyway, to get to Djouce we were routed through the Powerscourt Gardens, another part of Wicklow that's usually off-limits (unless you pay, that is), so I was happy enough to see the truly spectacular waterfall there as an added bonus. We got a second glimpse of it a few miles later from much higher up, another absolutely breathtaking view. The race route sure was very well chosen.

And then there was Djouce, just after seeing Mick at one of the checkpoints. Years ago he had stated casually once that he would be making a trail runner out of me yet. That really hadn't come to fruition - until right now that is, probably totally unexpectedly, though I doubt he still remembers the original remark.

Djouce is by far the highest point of the course and it can be very windy up there but we got a pretty good day, and while the wind sure was noticeable it wasn't much of a factor. The most prominent feature about the Wicklow Way in the Djouce area is the boardwalk, which wasn't my favourite part of the race, to be honest, because it's in rather bad condition and not particularly great to run on. I was happy enough to eventually get off it. There were plenty more stunning views to be had, especially so of Lough Tay, and then it's about 6 gradually downhill miles towards Roundwood, most of it runnable but a few rough and stony trails thrown in for good measure as well.

Powerscourt waterfall

I was exactly 4:20 into the race and still half an hour away from Roundwood when the race leader came up on his way back home, moving exceptionally well. He had a big gap on the runners behind him, and then I saw Eoin in 4th place, very impressive just a few weeks after his stunning performance at UTMB. However, my own race took a sharp turn for the worse as my calves started cramping, just a few isolated spasms at first but they very quickly turned into full cramps. At first I could not run even on the gentlest of climbs, then they started cramping on the flat and before I reached Roundwood they even started cramping while jogging at the easiest effort level downhill. And as if that were not enough, they even started cramping when hiking uphill on a couple of occasions! All of a sudden I was in real trouble. Not only did I still have over half the race ahead of me, I also had to climb over all those mountains again on the way back home, and in my present state that seemed a rather ambitious target. I was having serious doubts if I would be able to finish.

Djouce

I struggled into Roundwood, and at the aid station I realised how dehydrated I had become. The last water station had been a long while ago and I had been sparing with my water use, though I had not even realised how  thirsty I was until I saw the water there. I know there is a theory that dehydration can cause cramps but I do have serious doubts about that - but obviously I drank plenty and filled my two bottles up to the brim.

We had to do a flat 5k loop towards the Vartry reservoir before coming back into Roundwood again. It felt like a tacked-on section, out of character with the rest of the route because it was mostly flat, and just there to make up the distance. However, it was a good thing for me as it enabled me to fill up my water bottles yet again for a second time in a short while, and with that I basically had caught up with my hydration again. I did whine to Rene about my cramping legs, he did suggest salt but I had already taken a couple of salt tablets already, and I also ate a few Doritos off the aid station table, so I reckoned I had covered that angle already. That little reservoir loop had taken me much longer than I would have expected because I had been forced to walk much of it, and the next thing awaiting me was the return climb over Djouce. I really did not know how I could possibly make that.

Still Djouce

However, my legs may have gone but my big strength in my ultra running career has always been my stubbornness. As long as I was able to make at least one more step I was still in the business. I was over an hour ahead of the Roundwood cut-off and a quick calculation in my head indicated that even if I had to walk the entire way back home I should still be able to make the final cut-off, though after well over 5 hours on my legs my math skills were not entirely reliable any more. Leg-wise, I was still hoping for a miracle.

Vartry Reservoir

As I made my way out of Roundwood I wasn't in the best of spirits but I was still in the game. As the miles wore on I was surprised that nobody was overtaking me yet, but I guess even the "runnners" with non-cramping legs were tired at that point and they were all hiking themselves and therefore not really moving any faster than me. That changed when I reached a few flatter sections and a few girls and boys did indeed pass me, including Liam eventually. We did chat a bit but he soon moved ahead and I definitely did not expect to see him again.

Around that time I took a paracetamol. Now, I really hate taking painkillers in a race, it can be a really bad idea, especially when you're dehydrated and the aid stations here were very far apart, but I was desperate and had totally run out of sensible ideas so I moved on to the insensible ones. I wasn't really in pain as such, and I had never heard of a painkiller helping with cramps, so it really was just an act of desperation due to lack of other options. However, within 10 minutes the calves started to feel better and I even managed to jog a bit, first on the downhills and then even on the flats, without yelping in pain after 3 seconds. Was it really the paracetamol? I have no idea, and quite frankly at that point I didn't care a dot what it was, I was just glad that I could move again, though overall I was still in pretty bad shape and any time I tried to push my luck I was very quickly reminded of my limits.

Possibly the best view all day, Lough Tay

As I got to the last water station before Djouce at the military road I saw Liam again. He was just as surprised to see me as I was to see him, but we left at the same time and this time I managed to stay with him and another runner as we tackled the boardwalk again. The boards were very slippy and you had to mind your step but we made reasonable progress. I did fall behind on a couple of occasions when the guys started running on the flatter sections and my legs weren't quite up to their pace but every time I caught up on the steeper hiking parts again. To be honest, I was happy just to still being able to move.

Great Sugarloaf. Not small. Just far away!

I was really worried about the Powerscourt section, though. On our way out we had run down a ridiculously steep trail towards the Dargle river at the bottom and I feared my legs would not be able to make it back up such a steep trail and had visions of me literally being stuck right at the bottom. Then again, I had to get there first, so just concentrate on the next step and worry about the rest later.

We eventually reached the high point again and on the downhill part I realised that my calves weren't the only issue, my quads were hurting badly by this point as well. I was ok when the path was smooth but there are long sections of very rough footing and I struggled to keep up with the guys and only just about managed to hang on. Also, I caught a few stones with my toes and while I never fell it always sent my calves back into cramping, which was just as painful as a faceplant would have been. Finally we got to a smoother section, grassy and a bit muddy, and I coped much better on that surface.

That was all fine and well until we got back towards Powerscourt Gardens on a new trail, and that one was really rough, full of loose stones, and quite steep, and in no time at all I lost contact with Liam and struggled to slowly make my way downwards. Eventually, after a long painful struggle I finally got to a flat, smooth trail section but now my calves were back in full cramping mode and once more I was forced to walk on a section that normally would have been perfect for running. Thankfully, however, we did not drop all the way down to the river so I was spared that steep climb that I had been dreading. Instead there was only a 300 meter section back up to the road, this one made particularly interesting by a film crew setting up a scene for some spooky medieval/fantasy film, cool to watch, not that we had time to stop and gawk.

Great Sugarloaf

Crossing the road I was informed that the Sugarloaf aid station was only 3 km ahead, which was good news as I had completely run out of water. It had been a long time since the last aid station! I was also absolutely starving. I still had some chocolate in my pack but the mere thought of sweets almost made me gag and I really could not make myself eat that, not even a tiny bite. I should have brought some savoury options. Ah well. Next time. Unfortunately there was no ready-made table where you could have deposited a bag of boiled potatoes every mile, unlike some other races I would have been more used to.

Coming into the Sugarloaf aid station felt like a landmark, the long Djouce sections were behind us, there was less than 10 miles to go, and it felt that we were finally turning towards home. Liam was still there, but I was mostly concerned with stuffing my face with bananas, apples and eventually whole handfuls of  peanuts, which really hit the spot. Liam was still there, as were a few other runners, and we chatted bit before heading off again. By now we were 8:30 into the race and I was pretty sure my pre-race estimation of a finish somewhere between 10 and 11 hours would prove to be correct.

Look towards Bray with Killiney and Dalkey in the background

There was not much climbing left for Great Sugarloaf as the aid station was at a fairly high elevation anyway and we soon turned right onto a new trail. That was the only section that caught me slightly by surprise, on my training runs I had taken a different trail. Not that there was much difference, it was steep and my quads were destroyed from all the previous climbs as well as the 40+ miles we had accumulated so far and Liam very quickly disappeared over the horizon, as well as 2 or 3 other runners. I really struggled on this section, the quads were on fire with each step and when I finally reached a flatter section the calves were in full cramping mode again. At some point I took a second paracetamol but I don't think I noticed any difference whatsoever. After an absolute age we got onto the road, and for the first time in a very long while were back in civilisation, with houses, and people, and cars. Some more runners passed me but eventually I managed to somewhat sputter back to life and started to jog again, awkwardly and very, very slowly, but it was better than walking. We crossed the M11 again via the footbridge and on the serpentines down I could see at least half a dozen runners within maybe 30 seconds of me. Even though I wasn't competing for anything, the idea of being overtaken by so many guys in a short space of time didn't appeal to me at all. It's a mental thing. Maybe it's a fragile male ego thing.

As soon as we crossed the M11 we immediately had to climb the insanely steep road up Little Sugarloaf. This was seriously hard work but you know what? Somehow, without being able to explain it, I actually moved pretty well here. Maybe the sight of those runners just behind me had given me a jolt, maybe I was smelling the finish, maybe it was the fact that I was back in familiar territory but I hiked at what felt some serious pace. Not that you'd know it from looking at the mile splits but things are all relative after 44 miles when gaining almost 400 feet in a single mile. I had two distinct and slightly contradictory impressions here. One, I was moving surprisingly well. Two, I was in a world of pain, especially when we moved off the road and onto yet another stony, rough and very steep trail. Of all the miles in the entire race, this was the toughest one. It was there that my phone started ringing and even without looking at the screen I immediately knew it was Niamh who wanted to know when I expected to finish. I wasn't able to say much but I managed to tell here where I was and expect to finish somewhere around 60-90 minutes from now. Jesus, she really managed to pick her moment there!

My watch gave up the ghost shortly after, which really pissed me off. Just a bit longer and I would have had the whole race in one file. However, I had my phone with me and recorded the rest of the race with that. Not that having a full GPS track of the race is of any real importance but if you run 50 miles across several mountains you may as well record the damn thing.

Bray Head from a totally unfamiliar angle

That trail looked and felt completely new, and once I somehow got my aching bones over the top there were a plethora of gates to be passed through that all felt brand new. That trail must be a very recent development, I sure was not familiar with it at all, but then again it was the "other" side of Little Sugarloaf. Somehow the legs came back to me on the downhill and I covered the ground much better than I could have hoped for, towards the final aid station, only 6 km and only one mountain left, and a fairly small one at that. Bray Head, very familiar territory, even if I approached it from a very unfamiliar angle. As I made my way through Belmont estate it finally started raining, something I had expected to happen much earlier, but the weather had held fine for almost the entire day. Shortly after crossing the Greystones road I took the rain jacket out of my back pack because by now it was raining heavily and I would have gotten cold very quickly up at the ridge. Again, I managed to hike the steep road much better than I could have hoped for but the bigger surprise was that I was able to run properly again once I reached the ridge, and there was not a hint of cramping left. How you can be unable to run at mile 23 but be able to move nicely at mile 46 I do not know, not that I cared much about the physiological details at that point. The Bray Head cross was surprisingly and pleasing close when I looked up and I was there in no time - but now it was time for the one section I had feared the most all along - the final, insanely steep descent on a really rough surface, slippery in the rain on totally destroyed legs, and to make matters worse it was actually pretty damn dark by now. I could have taken my light out of my back pack but somehow could not muster the energy to do so - just struggle down that damn hill, somehow, without smashing your head against a rock.

I did slip on several occasions and found it hard to make out the roots and stones that threatened to trip me up but by some miracle always remained upright and eventually came out of it still in one piece, onto the concrete road and then it was just the glory stretch left, down towards the sea front and half the promenade towards the finish. Final time 10:46:39, 42nd place in the provisional results but I think there are some runners left out of those so the final placing may well change.

Strava gave me an elevation change of almost 9300 feet / over 2800 meters, that's some serious elevation, especially for the much less rugged Wicklow mountains which are much gentler than the Alps or Rockies.

All done! Niamh was there, having gotten there just 2 minutes before my arrival, excellent timing. They gave me a cup of alcohol free Wicklow Wolf beer which I drained in one go, never has a beer out of a plastic cup tasted so good, alcohol free or not, and apparently it was the fastest they had seen anyone drink their beer all day, so at least I was the fastest at one thing today.

I was so glad to be done, this was every bit as tough as I had expected it to be. The trails are absolutely stunning, it is a spectacular race which I cannot recommend highly enough - if you don't fancy the pain of an ultra there are plenty of other options available, 18, 28 and 45 km, all of them very worthwhile, so come and do it next year yourself.

I have always been a pure road runner but with my competitive phase well behind me now I feel free to do whatever I want and I can definitely see myself out on the mountains again. I found the training as well as the racing on trails much more enjoyable than I expected, and quite frankly I can't wait to get more of the same.

Let It Bee

It was supposed to be a nice, short, relaxing taper run, but a minute into Wednesday's lunchtime run I accidentally swallowed an insect that had flown right into my mouth. It may have been a bee, I'm not sure because I didn't see it but it sure was big enough. Within seconds I could feel a swelling in my throat. After a few rather anxious moments I realised that my breathing was unaffected, so I a) continued to run and b) continued to live. Eating/drinking subsequently was ok, if a bit uncomfortable, though it could have been so much worse it doesn't bear thinking about.

The rest of the day I had a rather uncomfortable feeling in my throat but it got significantly better towards the evening. However, it was back to its most uncomfortable best the next morning, and last night (from Thursday to Friday) I kept dreaming that I was choking and completely unable to breathe, I was literally going from nightmare to nightmare all night. Jesus Christ, how the hell did that stuff happen!

I have the minor matter of a 80 km mountain race coming up tomorrow and I'm not quite as relaxed as I'd prefer to be but there's not much I can do about it now. I'm feeling a lot better today, so if I managed to get some sleep tonight that would be great but I can count the number of times I slept well the night before a long race on the fingers of one hand and still have most digits left over, so I will probably go into it slightly underslept.

Then again, personally I find lack of sleep immediately before a race much less of an issue than it's usually made out to be, I have qualified and run World Championships while in theory being tired from lack of sleep, so I don't think it will be an issue once I hit the road trail!!

And so with that, see you on the other side, my friends!

Pain In My Side

About two weeks ago I got a fairly bad pain on my right-had side. That was a real problem because I only sleep properly on my right side, and that proved to be impossible. I did google for possible causes and of course Dr. Google came up with the usual terminal cancer diagnosis, as well as a few others like pneumonia and muscle strain. While I was reasonably confident that it wasn't terminal cancer I didn't entirely rule out pneumonia because it somewhat reminded me of the pain when I had exactly that 12 years ago, but a muscle issue was always by far the most likely cause.

I don't know what caused it, maybe it was from that bike crash in Kerry because that's the side I landed on, but since it had been such a minor incident and it didn't hurt at all for several days afterwards I think it may have been unrelated.

The most painful thing by far was sneezing; it hurt like hell, as if someone had stabbed me in my side. Coughing was uncomfortable as well, which was another problem because I, and just about everyone else who had been on that bike ride, was suffering from a cold a few days after the trip, but thankfully it was only a short illness and after a couple of days I was better again.

The pain in my side has mostly gone away now, but it has taken about 3 weeks, so there was plenty of discomfort to be had. Thankfully it didn't hurt at all when running or I would have been in real trouble with my upcoming race.

Ah yes, the race. I got a scare last Friday when 3 guys asked me if I was racing this weekend, including one guy who was signed up to the same race, but after checking the website I calmed down again, I had been right, the race is this weekend.

Unfortunately the weather forecast isn't great, I will make sure my rain gear is in good order. That's a shame, we will be up in the mountains but not get to enjoy any of the marvellous views.  I have yet to enjoy the views from the top of Djouce and it looks like I will have to wait a little bit longer.

I expect the race will take me between 10 and 11 hours. I sure as hell don't expect to trouble any of the faster guys but I won't make up the back of the pack either, and I have 12:30 to finish, so I don't think the cut-offs will be an issue. I'll just try and enjoy it as much as I can, without putting any kind of pressure on myself.

Recover As You Taper

The first thing I noticed a day or two after our epic cycle trip was that my hip flexors were a bit tired. That didn't come as much of a surprise after that little adventure, and in fact I was feeling a lot better than expected - 3 consecutive days of several hours of running would have left me in much worse state, that's for sure. Come Monday morning my legs seemed to have forgotten about the cycling already, so that was good.

However, around that time I started noticing a sore throat. This could have had two sources, my room mate for two nights in Kerry had complained about the same, as had my son Shea after I had returned back home. However, just about every single cyclist was suffering from a cold the week after the ride so I'm reasonably sure we all got it there. Usually I manage to fight off most infections without being bothered myself but I did feel sufficiently bad on Wednesday that I cancelled the run for that day. My HR had already been elevated the days before that, so it had been in my system already. Thankfully the whole episode passed very quickly and by Thursday I was already back out on the road, blowing out the cobwebs and feeling surprisingly good, so that's that.

Despite that one enforced rest day it was actually a pretty good running week. The legs are feeling fresh, which may be a sign that I really undertrained this time but I'll take it, it's better than being overtrained and trust me, I know what I'm talking about. My longest run was a 2-hour easy jog on the trails of Bray Head. Usually you meet a lot of people where the cross is but virtually nobody else on the rest of that mountain as you head southwards but this time I must have come across at least 20 runners on my 2 loops there, so I guess the locals were out in force to check out that part of the route for the Ecotrail in 2 weeks' time.

I'm actually really looking forward to it. I was a bit apprehensive when I signed up and wasn't really sure if I really wanted to subject myself to that, but now I'm definitely getting excited about it. I hope the weather will be somewhat manageable, I'm still very much a newbie in the mountains and could do without nature throwing a few extra challenges, but we'll see. It's not as if we had a choice. That's part of the fun after all.

Something Completely Different

About to start

Five years ago a group of about a dozen employees at Microsoft Ireland decided to do a cycle event in aid of charity. The chosen cause was Laura Lynn, which is not only one of the most deserving charities in Ireland but also located closely to Microsoft's office buildings in Sandyford, which made it an easy choice, I suppose. But I don't think they could have envisioned how much the event would grow and how the amount of money raised would reach incredible heights. I guess everything at Microsoft happens at scale, even the fundraising by its employees. This year, for the 6th year of the charity cycle, there were about 90 people actively involved, including a group of 19 crew, the rest of them the cyclists. The fundraising had been going on for months already with bucket collections and bag packing and even at some of the All Ireland games, obviously all done in our spare time. Microsoft as an organisation wasn't directly involved as such but they did provide the facilities and they did allow a significant number of employees to spend 3 days in Kerry for a charity event without having to take the time as annual leave, which is more than most companies would have done, I suppose.

Not all that happy to see my old office, apparently

Anyway, the amount of money raised had already reached a mind-boggling 120.000 Euro just before we set off from Kenmare on Wednesday morning. It had been a hideously early start to catch the bus and get to Kerry at about 10:20 am (already later than planned) and then we set off in five groups of about 12-14 cyclists each. I was happy enough to be in group 1, even though all groups were supposed to be equal (yeah right, of course they are). It was raining as we set off, fittingly so as it had been raining last year when they had finished here, and we followed the Kerry part of the Wild Atlantic Way. About 105 km on day 1 to Caherciveen, 135 km on day 2 to Dingle (a bit more actually) and about 115 km on day 3 to Ballybunion. Day 1 was very windy, which did cause a few hairy moments and might have contributed to my crash just a couple of miles before the end when the rider in front of me swerved and hit my front wheel but no harm done, neither to me nor my bike. Day 2 was gorgeous, with the best views on offer and particularly special for me with a coffee break in Killorglin just outside my old office where I happened to meet and chat to at least a dozen of my former colleagues. Day 3 was supposed to be a washout but the rain stopped just as we were about to leave, and while there were no views to be had from the top of Conor Pass, it was still a lovely day, so we were really lucky with the weather.

Tired in Dingle

I had expected my legs to be sore after the first day, remembering how tough it is to run multiple marathons, but in actual fact I never felt any soreness in my legs. My backside didn't get away quite so easily but I managed. And apart for that spill on day 1 and a dropped chain on day 2, which was fixed in a minute, I had no issues with the bike, so I'm already looking forward to next year's event when we continue the road in county Clare.

Not quite the view I was hoping for

I didn't get any running done on those three days. I felt pretty good on the bike at all times but as soon as we stopped and sat down I got tired within 10 minutes, so the fancy idea of extra training vanished rapidly. I did manage 10k on Saturday in Ballybunion and I did a relaxed 2 hour hill run around Bray Head on Sunday, so I got some running done after all, but with about 20 hours of exercise for the week logged I don't think I have to worry about a loss of fitness.

The race, the actual event I'm training for, is 3 weeks away, so I guess there is supposed to be some tapering happening soon. I'm not feeling tired - it's not like road running when you're at the brink so often, in the hills I felt fine even after almost 4 hours of running/hiking, and I guess it took much less out of me. That's good because for once I think I managed to prepare for an event without getting into overtraining. Mind, I'm not quite there yet. But I'm very much looking forward to it now.

Let's Be Sound!

From Wednesday to Friday this week I will be participating in the Microsoft Ireland Charity Cycle, raising much needed funds for Laura Lynn Children’s Hospice. Over 3 days we will be cycling 355km along the Wild Atlantic Way in Kerry from Kenmare to Ballybunion. Laura Lynn provide palliative care and support for children with life-limiting conditions. I would really appreciate your support by clicking here.

Obviously it mans my training for the ultra will be ever so slightly compromised. I know from personal experience that there is some carry-over of fitness from the bike to running, as well as vice-versa, but I'm not sure how much of that counts once you reach ultra distances because the pounding of the legs is something you only get conditioned for when doing some actual running.

I have been cycling over 100 miles a week every week for the last two or three months, including a hilly, long spin every Tuesday with a sizeable group, and my cycling has been coming along a lot as a result. I am finding it very enjoyable as well, much more so than expected. Maybe I just like to exercise.

And now I keep thinking I should add some swim training as well and finally cross that Big I off my bucket list. I had been meaning to do it almost 10 years ago but then getting into the pointy end of running races took over and everything else took a back seat.

I did have to dial back my running as a result of all the cycling, otherwise it was just too much on the body. How that will turn out over those mountains and the end of the month I shall see.

At least I managed to do some long runs in the mountains. I always saw myself as a road runner and never really enjoyed running on trails, with the uneasy footing and the constant threat of a face plant where I could never relax as much as I can on the road, but when I finally turned my attention to mountain running once again I found it surprisingly enjoyable, or maybe it was just the fact that I was ok with hiking all those steep uphills or those  particularly stony trails and found that I could do 4 hours of exercise and still feel ok afterwards.

Djouce in glorious sunshine - too late!

On Tuesday my left knee felt a bit stiff even before the cycle, but it was ok once I got going. By Wednesday that was better but then the stiffness went into my Achilles instead. Again, it was not too bad initially but on Saturday I was a mile away from home when all of a sudden it started acting up and was rather uncomfortable. It had happened on the steepest part of that run, so obviously the tendon got overloaded. Not great when you're about to head into the mountains and expect to do a lot of climbing.

Therefore I started my big mountain "run" today with a bit of trepidation. After scouting out most of the first/last 10+ miles of what I expect to be the running route in previous weeks I did some running on the middle part of the race, namely Djouce mountain. I got up very early, much more so than would be considered civilised for a Sunday, and drove to Roundwood, which was still very sleepy at this time. I made my way towards the Wicklow Way and then towards Djouce. I also took in the summit, even though that's not part of the running route but when you get that far you might as well tag the top. Unfortunately it was covered in thick clouds, which robbed me of some breathtaking views - it was all cleared up a couple of hours later but by then it was too late for me.

I hiked most of the uphills, partially because I wanted to keep this at ultra effort levels but mostly because I wanted to protect my Achilles and stop it from being overloaded. The last thing I would have wanted was to get stranded with a gimpy leg up on a windswept mountain miles from anywhere. But it was all good, even with a very strong wind that on one occasion blew me off the  boardwalk, but I escaped unharmed and was rather pleased with how it had gone, really.

And please, be sound and donate a couple of Euros to quite possibly the most deserving charity there is by clicking here.

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).