Ray D'Arcy's LauraLynn Half Marathon

Ray D'Arcy had started a challenge at the start of the year, to run a marathon every week for the entire year, and of course to collect money for the LauraLynn children's charity while doing so. Since I cannot think of a more deserving charity in Ireland, I signed up for it.

 

Spotted on the way to the start

Covering a distance of 26 miles in a week isn't exactly a major challenge, so for most of the year I was just ticking along. I did a few more challenges alongside that one, most notably the East Of Ireland last person standing one, twice, which always went on for weeks and, as per usual, I was too stubborn to pull out when I should have and went on and on and on. In fact, during the final week of the second challenge I ran over 120 miles - and I did not even realise it until a few weeks afterwards when I accidentally checked my logs on Strava!

Anyway, I had long covered the entire 52 marathons and at the start of December Ray organised a half marathon in Phoenix Park for everyone to take part, rather than just long lonely mile after lonely mile. Bizarrely enough, I had not run a half marathon for over 10 years, while running dozens of races both longer and shorter.

Of course I had not trained for that. I had taken it rather easy after the Eco Trail, reconning that my body was better off with some rest rather than jumping back into training. I had barely gone over 10 miles on the weekends, so this was actually my longest run in a while, not that I was worried about the distance - I sure was not in there for a decent time, though. As a direct result of my lack of preparation I did not even try to go for a time, just jog the thing, collect the medal and t-shirt, an go home. And that's pretty much what I did.

Covid restrictions had lifted for December to allow the run to go ahead (and I am not aware of anyone getting infected there, not that I have much insight), which must have been the greatest question mark, and at 9 o'clock we assembled at the start line. I was very much towards the end of the field, not just because I had no ambitions regarding time but also to avoid the crowded masses further ahead. Once we go going it inevitably meant weaving around God knows how many other runners for the first mile and eventually we settled in position and just go on with the rest of the race.

Phoenix Park is quite hilly and it definitely was not a flat course, not that it compared to my previous one on Valentia Island in Kerry. I just took it even easier on the uphills, and made up for some of it on the downhills. The course design was a bit strange, basically 4 loops, getting ever smaller. The first loop brought us all the way to the other end of the Park, the second one cut back at halfway and the last 2 ones were smaller ones of the Tom Brennan New Year's Day 5k, albeit going the other way. It meant you actually passed through the finish after loop 3 with almost 2 miles yet to go, and I'm sure there were some that "forgot" to do the final loop. I had definitely erred on the slow side of pacing myself and with one mile to go I had still plenty in the legs and went a bit faster for the last one, not that a 7:30 mile was in any way impressive (I used to comfortably run a minute per mile faster for the entire distance, not just the finish stretch). Ah well. Getting old sucks. I think I may have mentioned that already. My time was just over 1:50 - almost half an hour slower than 10 years ago. Yeah, getting old definitely sucks!

  

The End

After crossing the line I collected my medal and there was nobody there to chat to, really, so I just went home. A bit of an anti-climatic finish, which goes with a bit of an anti-climatic race, I guess. Still happy to have done it. Thanks to Ray D'Arcy for organising it, and of course, most importantly, for collecting a seven-figure sum (!!) for an outstanding charity.

There Must Be An Easier Way to Get A Mug

In case you were wondering, that was at the start

I had started to doubt if I would get to race again in 2021, my last race having been the Donadea 50k all the way back in February 2020, just as the world was on the brink of sliding into the pandemic. But here I was, on the start line, a mere 19 months later.

Well, actually it's all relative. I wasn't standing on the start line, rather we gathered loosely in the general vicinity of the start area, and as the countdown reached 10 seconds or so we casually started to make our way towards the start, owing to the fact that the virus hasn't gone away and we're still socially distancing.

Also, I wasn't really racing. I was in no shape to do so. In fact, a few weeks before the race I had contacted the race organisers to put me from the 80k down to the 45k, because training had been nothing but a loose collection of usually not very long runs, and every time I tried to go long I endend up with tired, sore legs that demanded a long recovery period. I wasn't confident I would be able to finish the 80 but I always knew that I would be stubborn enough to drag myself around the 45k course, even after they added an extra km close to the start date.

The course is absolutely stunning, and if you find yourself within the general vicinity of North Wicklow with a pair of trail shoes and a few hours to spare I strongly recommend you do yourself a favour and have a look yourself. The very best views are reserved for the 80 and 45 k distances, but even the smaller races are spectacular.

The other thing that's spectacular is the sheer amount of climbing you do, certainly for someone much more used to road running. Even the 45k has over a mile of elevation gain over the whole course, and some of the trails are quite rough, so forget about time and enjoy.

Forgetting about time and enjoy was exactly what I was planning to do. On my last outing on that very course, 2 years ago, I had started to cramp badly even before to 40k mark, and that was when I had been in better shape than today, so any attempt at heroics would be punished severely, and I thought the better of it. Just take it all in at a leisurely pace and enjoy the views. And I brought some walking poles with me in an attempt to take some weight of my legs, maybe it would make a difference, though I had not spent an awful amount of time practicing with them (then again, growing up in a skiing country meant using poles was rather natural to me, even after a long break, and I got the hang of them straight away).

Kilruddery House

The first climb up to Bray Head is already spectacularly steep, and I seemed to be the first participant to start walking while much of the field was streaming past. Fine by me. There was even a traffic jam further on as we filtered into the narrow trail, we must have stood or moved very slowly for well over a minute. Eventually we came out top at the cross and headed along the ridge and back down the other side towards Little Sugarloaf, heading through the swanky Kilruddery estate.

The climb up Little Sugarloaf was through the woods, very nice, and then we headed across the M11 towards the Great Sugarloaf trail, my favourite trail in the whole area. At that point we were well into it, and it was actually quite hot. I sure was sweating buckets and my water supply only just about lasted to the Great Sugarloaf aid station, maybe about 15k in.

Some View!

That was followed by a big loop through Powerscourt, past the waterfall and eventually to a viewing point, looking at the waterfall high from above, an absolutely breathtaking view. The view of Lough Tay from the flanks of Djouce might be the only one to rival that one, but that was reserved for the 80k runners today.

Straight down, followed by straight up

A lot of rough trail going up and down followed. As I later explained to an American visitor, they don't believe in switchbacks in Ireland for their trails, they just have them go up and down in a straight line. Also, as a road runner at heart I was definitely struggling with the stony trails, some of them really rough, and the slowest parts of the course may well have been some of the downhills where I gingerly picked my way through the boulders.

I was also rationing my water because I knew it had to last all the way back to Great Sugarloaf, and I was getting rather thirsty. One highlight was when I saw Mick Hanney at the junction of Djouce - the last time I had seen him had been exactly two years ago at the exact same place, only this time I was heading straight rather than right up the mountain, having chickened out of the long one.

But I sure was in much better shape than the last time I had run those trails, because two years ago I was really suffering with brutal cramps and this time I was still moving well enough, though, as I said, at a leisurely enough effort. It made for a much more enjoyable time, no doubt about it.

Great Sugarloaf

Eventually we made it back to Great Sugarloaf, and with that I was basically back on home territory, having become rather familiar with the rest of the course over the last couple of years. The descending trail off great Sugarloaf used to be a really rough trail, full of stones, and overgrown so that you could not even see half of the stones, and earlier this year they had replaced that with a very smooth gravel trail, much much faster no doubt, certainly safer as well, but it was still f*cking steep and I was worried about busting my quads on that fairly brutal descend. And indeed, one runner who had flown by me exactly there was passed again 5 minutes later almost doubled up with cramps. Sorry mate, happens to the best of us. As much as I thought I had disliked the old, rough trail, I'm not sure if I like the smooth new one better.

Bray and Great Sugarloaf

There were a few changes to the course as well, we actually went on a trail towards Little Sugarloaf this time rather than use the Quill Road, another trail that had been in bad condition until earlier this year until they obviously did some work on it - this one definitely meets my approval. By now I could feel my own calves starting to twitch every now and again, though I was reasonably hopeful I'd be able to nurse them along to the finish as long as I didn't do anything stupid. Besides, after bumbling along for 5 hours this was not the time to start racing anyway.

By the time we got back towards the climb up Little Sugarloaf I was definitely rather tired and would not have minded finishing soon, but this was now definitely home territory and I could start to sense the finish, though there were still two mountains left. I really must have been tired because on several occasions I basically tripped over my own poles, though I somehow managed to avoid a face plant, which would not have been pretty amongst all the stones around here. 

Almost done

I filled up my water bottles one last time at Belmont and then tackled Bray Head, though usually I don't take the scenic route through Kilruddery to get there. One more climb and the cross came into view again. By now I had caught up with the tail end of the 29k field, which at least gave me a runner to catch every now and then - even if you're not in a competitive mood, that still helps.

The insanely steep climb down from Bray Head was as challenging as expected, though the poles definitely made that one easier. I did have one "race" at the end as I caught one runner at the prom and left him in the dust while belting along at speed - which turned out to be 12-minutes miles, interesting. 

And then I was done. I got my t-shirt, my finisher mug, and a can of the local brew, Wicklow Wolf, alcohol free. I know, alcohol free beer isn't exactly everyone's favourite but after 6 hours running in the heat, boy does it go down well! I even managed to blag myself a second can which went down equally well.

I bumped into Finbarr, Norbert and Andrew, who had all finished shortly ahead of me (so I was making up the tail end of the crew, ah well) but didn't hang around too much as I was eager to get horizontal at home.

Not exactly my most glorious performance ever, but it felt great to be racing again! Maybe I'll get used to it again, one day. Still, it was a bloody long way to go for a mug. There MUST be an easier way.

Parklife

We moved house about six weeks ago. Not very far, just from one end of Bray to the other, so not a big deal. However, what that did for me was to put Shanganagh Park within easy reach. Initially I thought that was great, having a nice, big park available for a few easy laps any time, but as it turns out it doesn't actually quite work that way.

There are printed signs on the tarmac saying "Keep Left", and there are arrows all along the loop to reinforce that message. It's a actually quite a simple concept really, you'd think people would get the hang of it quickly enough. 

I had seen the exact same thing on the prom in Bray, last year when the pandemic started. It took a couple of month until everyone managed to get it, but from then on it was plain sailing (I usually run along Strand Road, though. The prom can be crowded). However, 14 months clearly weren't enough to get the same through to the population of South Dublin. Groups of up to 10 spread out across the road? Check! People walking on the right, making no effort whatsoever to move aside for the 75% of people who do actually move on the left? Check! Dog walkers with extensible leads spread across the entire path? Check! 

South Dublin really is full of fucking wankers. Irish people from anywhere else were right all along.

Enough about other folks' shortcomings, I've a few myself. Running-wise, the most glaring one is that I seem unable to slow down properly. My usual training runs tend to be around 8 minute pace. That's similar enough to the pace I used to do for years and years. Problem is, I'm far from the runner I used to be all those years ago. You're supposed to do your easy runs (as in at least 80% of your runs) at least 1 minute slower than your marathon pace. As I'm fairly sure I would not be able to run anywhere near a 3:30 marathon these days, that means I'm actually running faster than my marathon pace. That's a very common mistake runners make, almost certainly the most common one. Thing is, I really should know better but somehow I can't seem to slow down. I start out nice and easy but as soon as my conscious self switches off, my pace falls into the 8 minute trot that I have done for thousands of miles. It seems to be hard-wired into my brain. 

Also, I tend to zone out very quickly. Five minutes into any run and I'm spaced out. That should be a great thing, though with that disconnect between what my brain thinks I can do and what my legs can actually do, there's an issue.

I can see that it's not really working. I did a 5k time trial last week and had to suffer for 21:24, which is just shockingly slow. And I can barely run 13 miles without feeling wiped out afterwards. I tried to go for a flatter rout this morning, avoiding steep hills like Quarry Road, but turns out that's not the solution either.

Ah well. I'm still on track for Ray's marathon challenge, running at least a marathon a week, though I got rather lazy and on some weeks I barely ran more than that rather modest target. To give myself a kick up the backside I just signed up for another virtual Last Man Standing, in the hope of giving me an incentive to move a bit more. There is no hope whatsoever of making it to the end of that but if it gives me a reason to get moving it will have served its purpose.

Hiatus

Ok, this time I really left is too late with the update. I actually had things to say - what was lacking was the motivation. I guess the lockdown is starting to get to me. I'm sure it the same for most of you out there.

Early February was the anniversary of my last real race, the famous Donadea 50k. I might have had a shocking run but it was my only race last year, so something of a highlight, if rather unexpected.

We did a virtual 50k. It would not be Anto if there were no event. On the day of the race itself I woke up to a surprise scene, there was snow outside and the roads were icy, so I went on the treadmill instead. Obviously the plan was to run 50k but after about 15k my left Achilles started to hurt and by halfway it was bad enough for me to call it a day and step off. If it had been a real race I undoubtedly would have soldiered on but for a virtual event I really could not build up the enthusiasm to run through the pain. I gave it some rest for the rest of the day and went on again the next day to finish it off. Surprisingly I felt much better on Sunday, though it was still on the treadmill because the weather was still rather uninviting. I finished off the second half of the race and was actually tempted to do the whole thing but it was also Valentines Day and my date was waiting for me, and sacrificing my marriage for a virtual race was definitely not on.

Funnily enough, that Saturday was the last time my left Achilles bothered me, it's been fine since that 25/25 double. Mind, I also changed the shoes I use for the treadmill, which may or may not have something to do with it as well.

Ever since then I have definitely lacked some motivation. I started going up the local mountains again, now that the snow has melted. Since then I've been up Bray Head twice and Great Sugarloaf once. I'm lucky enough to have these within my 5k radius, which I definitely appreciate. Lockdown would be a lot worse otherwise.

I did have one attempt at a speedy workout, mostly because my local running club has a league going, a virtual one obviously, and this month it was a 10k. I didn't race it but went at it at tempo effort but was still a bit shocked to clock up a whopping 46 minutes. Sure, I had done next to no speedwork and I'm yet another year older but that's just ridiculous. 

I eventually decided that there is a chance that doing speedwork in Peoples Park isn't a real reflection of my pace. I had done a mile TT there around Christmas and that had been equally shocking, and a bit out of kilter with other runs. It might have something to do with the fact that half of the lap consists of a dirt/gravel path which may, just may be a slow surface. I guess I'll pick somewhere else for my next time trial and see how that compares.

My Achilles Heel

In my prime I went for years without injury, quite unusual for a runner, but my Achilles heel has always been my, er, Achilles. It started again a couple of months ago when my right Achilles tendon started to feel a bit stiff, especially in the mornings but I could definitely feel it throughout the day.

This eventually just about settled down when all of a sudden my left Achilles decided to step into the action as well, which is a bit unusual because almost all of my niggled and injuries (and cramps!) happen on my right leg. In fact it stepped into the action with a vengeance because it was worse than the other leg had been.

The first time I had this, many years ago, I was quite worried about it, enough to have it seen to in fact, but by now I have experienced it often enough to have a reasonably chill outlook. The tendon doesn't just snap and it does get better eventually. Still, I am over 50 now and healing is slower, so I spent 1 or 2 days a week cycling instead of running. Strangely enough running on the treadmill seems to worsen it because in general I can feel it when running a hill and level ground should be fine; maybe there's something about the way the treadmill is a bit bouncy that disagrees with me.

It was almost back to normal until last Sunday, when it flared up again in the middle of a long run, painful enough for me to cut it short and hobble off the treadmill. Thankfully it seems to have settled again but I can definitely still feel that something is a bit off, so a few days on the bike will remain to be part of my training for the next couple of weeks at least.

Obviously, with us all in lockdown and no races on the horizon, it doesn't really matter. Just keep ticking over, enjoy it and stay healthy.

Slow Start

Well, some things are hard to explain.

After running a lot of easy miles I decided to stretch my legs a bit again and anyway, I had to catch up on some of those virtual events I had signed up some time around Christmas but was too lazy to actually do. The one on my mind was the virtual Beaufort 10k, because that's the annual race organised by my old club in Kerry.

In order to get some zip into the old legs I did a fast mile on Friday morning in Bray's Peoples Park. I certainly didn't do an all-out mile time trial but I thought I did put some decent effort into it, so I was a bit shocked to see a time of 6:45 for that mile. Now, I know I have slowed down a fair amount the last few years but it doesn't seem THAT long ago that I ran a couple of marathons faster than that, so that's quite a shocking performance. The fact that it was on a slightly snowy surface didn't serve as an excuse. While I did slow down a tad at the corners in order not to lose my grip that should not have cost much, and nowhere near enough to explain such a slow time.

I awoke suitably chastised the next morning to be greeted by a blanket of snow covering our garden as well as the roads, with a layer of ice underneath, so there was no way I would be able to run a time trial on that and back onto the treadmill it was.

I'm not sure how much effect the treadmill has on speed/effort. I know I get really hot, so longer efforts add some extra effort but shorter runs may well be easier on the treadmill. I guess that would explain why I managed to run 10k at virtually the same pace as that mile the day before and again, it wasn't an all-out effort. Still, that's quite startling. But at least it does indicate that a 6:45 mile time doesn't fully reflect my actual present state of fitness. I'd be worried if it did.

The other thing to mention is that Ray's Marathon Challenge hast started. As a reminder, the aim is to run at least one marathon every week, not all in one go, and so far so good. I'm halfway through my fund raising target already, so that's good and I should definitely get there by the end of the year. But if you could click on the link and donate a few quid, that would be great. It is for Laura Lynn, and they are desperate for your support. Thank you!

Happy Solstice

And so, finally, 2020 draws to an end. One thing we can all agree on, it was a truly shitty year, so good fucking riddance.

There might have been a few positives. No Christmas office party, for example, which is one major plus in my book. And the fact how I finally realised that working from home has plenty of plus points. But all in all it's good to leave this year behind us, write it off as a massive clusterfuck and move on to better things.

Mileage-wise it was another low for me, but I have the funny feeling that's just one more step on that particularly slope. By the time we hit New Year I'll be very close to 2300 running miles, and I'm not counting the cycling ones. I've gotten slower again, though I did manage a few plus points like a 5:54 mile, which was faster than any mile I've run for several years, and that 19:13 5k on the treadmill was better than I expected as well. As for races, I didn't realise how lucky I was to have signed up for Donadea in February, so at least I got one proper race under the belt before it all came crashing down.

For next year I'd love to catch up on all the races I missed out on this year but that would almost certainly a really bad idea. I no longer have the ability to do a marathon and recover quickly, so I will have to limit my races. So I guess that Ironman that was supposed to be this June but has been postponed to next August will be my focus for 2021; unfortunately I have no idea how I'll get the swim training done because I am not at all comfortable with going to a swimming pool for the time being, and swimming in the sea on a regular basis isn't all that high on my wish list either, to be honest. Make no mistake, I badly need to learn to swim properly before August and this will take some time, so that's something I need to figure out sooner rather than later.

I've been ticking over the last few weeks with most runs a 12 k loop around Bray, a shorter run when my legs felt particularly heavy and one longer run on Sunday, though nothing that I could call a long run in good conscience. The pace was generally somewhere between 8 and 8:30 minute miles, and a couple of attempts at a workout showed that I have serious issues when it comes to running faster.

For next year I do have one goal. I signed up for Ray's Marathon Challenge, a charity event with Ray D'Arcy as the figure head, but more importantly in support of LauraLynn, which to me is the single most deserving cause in Ireland, and one I really want to support. It means running at least 26.2 miles each and every week in 2021 (not in one go - that would kill me). I would really appreciate it if you could help out and donate, even if it's just a little bit. They have been really taking a hit with donations in 2020 and anything you can do to help will be highly appreciated.

Please follow the link to my donation page . Thank you!

I'm Still Here

Clearly there are still some of you out there reading this because I got admonished this week for not updating this blog often enough not just once but twice (twice!).

I guess they have a point. It's been a while. In my defence, there wasn't much to write about. I took it very easy the first couple of weeks after the marathon. You're supposed to take it easy after any marathon, even one where you didn't really push the effort and didn't feel particularly sore afterwards. And someone with my history of overtraining should definitely take it easy.

And then ... well, I just didn't feel overly motivated to push myself. There are still no races anywhere in the foreseeable future and it's hard to plan ahead. I'm kind of hoping that this easy year will have given my body the chance to repair some of the damage I did to it over the years, and when I finally can bring myself to push myself in training again I might see some improvements, but if that's how it will turn out, only time will tell.

Today was the first time I did double figure mileage, so this really was an easy period. Also, about a week ago I got the notion of adding some strengthening work by doing rope skipping, and on the second try I promptly felt a sharp pain in my right Achilles, so that's that idea right out of the window. I can still feel the Achilles occasionally when running, it feels a bit stiff and when running up a steep hill on my toes it feels like putting too much stress on the tendon, so I don't. Tendons heal slowly, though since it's not giving me any real troubles I'm not too worried about it. It just means that big hills or hill sprints are off the menu for a few weeks.

I guess it looks like it will be a few more easy weeks to see out the year. Then we all collectively forget about a truly shitty 2020 and start again.

Let's Be Grateful

 In a strange masochistic way, I always wanted to know what it would be like to run an entire marathon on a treadmill. I think it was Jo Fearon a few years ago when she ran 12 marathons on the 12 days of Christmas (she had to restrain herself to the marathon distance because she was nursing a baby at the time - talk about hardcore!) that started my curiosity, but knowing how miserable an experience even a single hour on the treadmill usually is I wasn't ever tempted to follow up on that in reality.

Two things have happened since that made the difference. The first was the emergence of online training platforms like Zwift with their virtual worlds tied to your own performance on a treadmill or bike trainer. It should not really make a difference, you are still working away without moving from the spot, but seeing your avatar moving along in a 3D world is a complete game changer. The second thing was obviously a worldwide pandemic that made it rather unwise to hold mass events, to be putting it mildly, and virtual events have taken over instead, poor replacements they may be.

I had waited for a long time to sign up for the virtual Dublin City Marathon, not really being tempted by virtual races, but eventually I did. I was a bit unsure where I should do my running; laps were an obvious choice, especially as it allowed you to stow away some sports drink, in the hope nobody would interfere with it, and I had the option of Bray's People Park (1 km loops), Shanganagh Park (2 km loops) and Boghall Road - Southern Cross Road (5 km loops), plus the distance it would take to run there and back home.

Then level 5 lockdown came to Ireland, and while all those options were entirely inside my 5 km radius and therefore perfectly within the guidelines, I opted to cocoon and went for the treadmill, though in all honesty more out of curiosity to finally grab the chance to see what it's like rather than an overblown sense of civil obedience. It also solved the drinks problem, all I had to do was to put them on the windowsill beside me.

Once all was in place, it was just a matter of starting the computer and the treadmill and start running.

The first 5k were rather tedious. Time just didn't want to pass and I thought this was going to be a VERY long day. Mind, I have plenty of experience of very long days running and today wasn't going to be one of the tough ones, not really. Eventually I managed to tune out and get into the Zone, which helped a lot and made the next 90 minutes or so mostly just fly by.

The pacing was maybe a tad optimistic. I hadn't done any marathon specific training and was falling back on muscle memory, though I had covered plenty of miles in that last person standing challenge, which I reckoned would stand me in good stead, so I set the pace of the treadmill to 12 kph, 5 minutes per k, which would get me home just under 3:30. That was fine for the first 25 km and I was doing pretty well, mentally as well as physically. Of course, I've been in that game long enough to know that the first 25 k are not the ones that really count. And true enough, at that point I felt the first spasm in my right calf, the bane of my life, yet again. Fuck.

The treadmill adds another dimension to the cramps game, assuming that you don't want to be spat out at the end when you seize up, which could easily lead to further injury, something I was keen to avoid. So when I felt the second spasm I decided to play it safe and slowed down. At that point I still felt pretty good and managed to get another 10 k out of my legs but then the fun started again, and this time with rather more vehemence. I narrowly avoided an undignified treadmill exit out of the back end, but it was perfectly clear that the only way to avoid further drama was to slow right down, which I did, and I jogged home the last 7k in rather pedestrian fashion and finished up in 3:37:49.

To be honest, I was happy enough with that, not a complete disgrace and I was definitely feeling it for the last few miles and not exactly in perfect shape when I finally stepped off.

So, the Virtual Dublin City Marathon is done and I have satisfied my curiosity regarding treadmill marathons. And I got the badge on Zwift. 

The final verdict: In all honesty I'm not particularly keen to repeat the experience, I much prefer a real marathon. But you know, one day there will be the day when I cannot run any more. Today is not that day. Let's be grateful for that!

Cyberspace

Reality

Close

That Last Person challenge I mentioned dragged out quite a bit longer than I thought it would. I had resolved to stay in only for as long as I could do so reasonably easily but didn't entirely stick to that. We were down to the last three - in fact we were down to the last three for about two weeks, with everyone too stubborn (read: stupid) to drop out.

The one thing I wanted to get out if it was the motivation to run more than the usual 7 or so miles a day, and I sure got that. I never thought I'd ever run another 100 mile week ever again but turns out, I did. By that point I had a few niggles to deal with. The balls of my right foot were hurting at the end of each run, and it was fucking agony in one particular pair of shoes. The heel of my left foot was hurting for the first 2 miles of each run, and I think it got just a tiny little worse with each day, so I was definitely pushing my luck. Then again, pushing my luck in training is what got me to international championships, until my luck ran out that is.

I did a couple of runs on the treadmill when it was a bit too wild outside for my taste and in the end that's what cost me. On Wednesday morning I went on the treadmill yet again for a planned 25k. First of all, I was dead tired because running for 2 hours or more every morning had seriously cut into my sleep time the last couple of weeks. Secondly, for some reason I had miscalculated and stepped onto it 10 minutes late and I kept thinking how I would have to rush after the run to shower, breakfast and get ready for work. And then my right calf started to hurt, and the time was just crawling along.

After an hour I could not face it any longer and stepped off. Challenge over. Congratulations to Denise and Conor!

As it happens, for the rest of the day I was happy that I would not have to get up at 5 am on Thursday to run 30 k rather than disappointed about dropping out, so I was definitely at peace with it.

The calf still hurts, right where the Achilles attaches to the calf muscles, so it may be a tendon, muscle or maybe even ligament issue. I'm not too worried about it, I've run through way too many niggles in the last 15 years to worry about yet another one. 

I have kept the miles shorter since dropping out. I need the rest after the hefty recent mileage. And I'm still planning on doing the virtual Dublin marathon next week, so I guess it's some sort of taper time now. Running 26 miles on my own isn't all that appealing to be honest but I'm sure I'll get through. I've done worse.

Not on the EcoTrail

Today would have been the day of the EcoTrail Wicklow race, had it not been cancelled a few weeks ago. I had actually been reasonably optimistic that they would be able to hold it, since trail running is a socially distanced pursuit even when there's no pandemic spreading through the world, but of course in the end it wasn't to be. Such a shame - it would have been a gorgeous day, with clear skies and views for as far as the horizon stretches out. Just imagine the views from the Sugarloafs, or Djouce! I did get to enjoy a little bit of it as I met a work colleague, who moved here a few months ago, and we went over Bray Head and towards Little Sugarloaf, but had to turn around after an hour. Still, it was a very enjoyable 20k run, and who knows, with the weather about to turn and the days getting significantly shorter, it may have been the last of the nice days of the year.

Covid is of course a worry for all of us. With two kids in school and Niamh being a teacher they are having plenty of unavoidable close contacts, and the numbers in Bray are actually worse than in many parts of Dublin. It feels like it's only a matter of time until one of us tests positive, and my main worry is to spread it to the grandparents, who are in their eighties. Please don't let that happen!

As for running, with everything else cancelled I signed up to another virtual challenge four weeks ago, a last person standing one with the EoI running group. It's not the one where you run 4.5 miles every hour until everyone else has dropped out, it's about running a set amount of distance every day (well, they set it to 5 times a week), until everyone else has dropped out. At the time of writing there are still 9 of us in the running, out of the initial 15. A few years ago I would have declared myself the hot favourite for that kind of challenge, but those days are gone. We'll see how long I can hang on.

Weighty Matters

Just so that this doesn't get misunderstood: I do not believe in dieting. I have never followed a diet and never will. I have never starved myself in order to lose weight (or gorged myself to gain weight, for that matter). I have, however, heard plenty of times that I was too thin, sometimes in slightly less flattering terms. It shouldn't be hard to grasp the basic fact: I am fairly lightweight because I burn a lot of calories exercising, not because I am eating less. In fact, one of my colleagues once nicknamed me "sugar rush", after seeing me tuck into more than my fair share of sweets on more than one occasion. And yes, chocolate is my weakness.

Ever since I started running my weight has always gone up and down with my mileage. When I did 100 mile weeks I found it impossible to eat enough to keep my weight level, and when I was in recovery mode after a race my weight always shot up accordingly.

This was always quite predictable and stable but recently I have noticed that my weight keeps dropping. Undoubtedly it has to do with the fact that I am exercising twice a day, running and cycling once a day each. I used to think of 142 pounds as my optimal race weight, though more often than not I was about 144/145 for my goal races. Still perfectly acceptable, and I never ever got below 142, until now that is. This morning I was 141, and I have weighed myself below 140 at times, though that was caused by being dehydrated after a run, not my real weight.

Anyway, I told Niamh she had to bake more. Surely I won't lose any more weight when I stuff myself with chocolate brownies or similar on a regular basis? She keeps protesting that she is baking plenty anyway. We'll see how this plays out. Having to eat more cake in order to keep the weight stable - I can think of worse!

Last weekend I overdid it a bit. The very hilly 19+ mile course I had plotted had been a couple of miles longer than expected (very sloppy planning by me, this hasn't happened before) and I was rather tired at the end. Oh, and my legs cramped violently an hour later when I put them up - calves, bottom of the feet, around the ankles, any muscle in the lower legs really, until I somehow managed to put my weight on it. Blimey! So much for my attempt to get on top of my cramping issues. I just read an article that cramping is correlated with the muscles not being strong enough and has nothing to do with dehydration, salt levels or magnesium. This matches perfectly what I have observed over the years, my cramping problems were always significantly worse when I wasn't in top, top shape, and I never found any of the other theories even remotely relevant. Still, I took it easier this week. Also, my Garmin said I was overtraining - I wasn't entirely convinced by that, but with my recent history of overtraining it was definitely preferable to err on the side of caution. The watch has me back in green now. Let's keep it that way.

And - It's Off

It's a prediction I would have preferred to be wrong about but as it happens I did call it right: The EcoTrail race has been cancelled. I think it may already have been cancelled when I wrote my last entry but I hadn't heard about it yet.

It had not been a difficult prediction to make and it definitely did not hit me out of the blue but I am still disappointed. I was really looking forward to the race. I happened to speak to Rene the other day and he will put on some "challenges" but I don't know what they will entail yet. I'll see.

The funny thing is, I only signed up to the EcoTrail after the Dublin marathon was cancelled, because initially I had not fancied putting myself through all that suffering yet again. Now that the EcoTrail is no longer on I have actually signed up to the Virtual Dublin marathon, so I've basically come full circle. I'm still not much of a fan of virtual "races", and I definitely won't be doing that one as a proper race (and I won't include it on my list of races on the right hand side) but it's all that's left this year, I'm afraid. 

Ah well.

As a result of all that I didn't head back to the mountains this weekend but did a flat(-ish) road run on Sunday for 2 hours. Grand. I love road running as well, after all.

We've had two Atlantic storms the last week, which is very unusual for August, and, having grown old and soft, did a few more treadmill workouts when the outside world did not seem too inviting. With Zwift, that is actually manageable, totally different to what treadmill running used to be. I also have a couple of planned workouts in my head for the treadmill for future rainy, stormy days; hours of uninterrupted uphill running isn't something I can replicate in the real world, and progression runs on the treadmill are a completely different beast to doing them on the road, so there's added value in that.

Sadly, my indoor cycle trainer seems to have died a few days ago. It had starting to get wonky a couple of weeks ago, the Bluetooth signal was no longer working but I managed to use it via ANT on my mobile, but now it's completely dead and resisting any attempts to send even a single signal, so I gave up on it and ordered a replacement. Actually, an upgrade. Half a year ago I wasn't sure if I would end up actually using it, so I had opted for the cheapest model that still satisfied my requirements, but after 6 months of virtually daily use, sometimes twice, I know it will be used and I'm going a bit more upmarket. 

Hill Training

Training keeps going really well, I am really pleased with how it is going. I haven't felt as good for at least three years, and my HR and pace numbers support that as well. It looks like I have, once again, accidentally stumbled into a training regime that works, though the final proof of that is of course still to come.

As always, it's not all plain sailing and I do have a couple if issues. A couple of months ago my right foot was a bit swollen and bit tender to the touch. Also, when running it felt like my socks were scrunched up underneath the balls of my foot. I have heard that Morton's neuroma feels like that but can't tell if it was that or not. However, it went away eventually. Then, one morning about 2 weeks ago I was walking up a couple of steps in my house and felt "something" give, but it was manageable. I went for a run and didn't even notice it but later that day my foot later started swelling up again and it became a bit uncomfortable.

That was two weeks ago and it seems to have settled down again. The foot is still a little bit swollen but I can only tell if I compare my two feet directly to each other. It doesn't hurt, and I can curl my toes again, which I could not do a week ago. So, all in all, not too bad, but something to keep an eye on.

I had a great run on Sugarloaf last week. Instead of tagging two or three different mountains as I had done for most of my mountain runs I ran three laps on the Great Sugarloaf trail, which is the steepest and most technical part of my mountain runs anyway. I was pretty happy how that was going, and I ran for close to four hours, so it definitely was a good workout in its own right.

This Sunday I did something completely different. It was something I had been planning for a while, and a first rainy Sunday in a while provided a good opportunity. I hopped on the treadmill (obviously using Zwift to alleviate the boredom), set the treadmill to 5% incline, and ran for 2.5 hours. It was meant as a strengthening session for the calves but actually they still felt pretty good even at the end, so I'll probably give it another go, this time with a steeper incline. It's something the treadmill is excellent for - I just don't have a mountain around me where I can run uphill for several hours without it flattening out.

On the downside, the new Covid restrictions that came in just the other day make me doubt if the race will still be able to go ahead. It will, however, not change my training. Of course I would prefer if there were a race at the end of it, but I'm not running to race, I'm running because I love it, and will continue to do so.

Hope Dies Last

I don't want to be too hopeful. The last two years my performances have completely tanked (after already declining for three years before that) and I have on more than one occasion thought I might have turned the corner, only to be taught yet another painful lesson at my next race. So, let's not jump to conclusions just yet.

However, there are definitely positive signs. I did a mile time trial a couple of month ago that was faster than any mile I had run for a few years, even if it was still slower than my 10k used to be. But that's progress. And now that I have committed to running the Ecotrail again, I can actually compare my training to last year and actually it's looking pretty good. 

I had been battling with the problem that my legs just could not take the training mileage any more but every time I reduced my mileage to get the legs back into recovery mode, my fitness completely tanked. I might finally have found the solution: cycling!

I have stumbled into this completely by accident. I have been cycling to work for a couple of years but cycling for about half an hour at a time just does not have much impact, at least not at my level. But when we went into lockdown back in March, I started to do far longer training rides, albeit virtually on the Zwift platform. Two months ago I actually started following a proper training plan that has three to five workouts per week and boy, some of those workouts are brutal! But I have to say I am impressed. The level seems to be just right - the workouts are challenging but (usually) doable. On more than one occasion I was convinced I would not be able to finish the workout and just kept hanging on by my fingertips but somehow managed to hang on. That's a well designed training plan - tough but just about manageable.

I had two failures: on one occasion my legs started cramping rather badly and I just could not continue. That had been after doing a 3 hour mountain run in the morning, so maybe should not have come as a complete surprise. The other occasion was just the other day when the legs just did not have any pep. Or maybe it was in my head but whatever the cause, I bailed out. All other workouts have gone okay, even if I ended up wobbling into the shower on jelly legs.

The main worry for the Ecotrail are getting those crippling calf cramps again. So far I'm doing alright during my run training but when I do a reasonably easy bike ride later that day I can feel the spasms starting (and getting off the bike can be a real trigger - ouch!). I never used to cramp in training, so that's a new experience but my hopes that working up right to my cramping point might improve my resilience have so far proved futile. I still have close to two months, plenty of time to work on increasing endurance. We'll see how it goes. I'm reasonably hopeful.

Breathless

We all know how this works. You intend to do something, put it off for a minute, then a minute has stretched to the end of the day, and then another day, and all of a sudden it's been weeks again since my last entry. Oops.

There were two running-related things worth mentioning since my last update.

First of all, Anto had been organising a whole set of virtual running events for about 2 months and the last one was to run 153 miles in 2 weeks. If you know that Anto's soul race is the Spartathlon in Greece you will know where the distance target came from. I did a quick calculation that this would translate into 11 miles per day, which sounded do-able, especially so since for the first of those two weeks I would actually be off work, having to take some holidays before they expired.

So I had a pretty good first week with close to 90 miles, just like in the good old days, including a long-ish run with Norbert along the narrow, winding country roads of North Wicklow. The second week was a bit slower because, unreasonably, they did expect me to do something again for my money, which cut into my available free time but I did enough to see out the challenge. Turns out it's a lot easier to run 153 miles in 2 weeks rather than all in one go, especially on my worn out old legs.

And, since I have signed up for the Ecotrail race, I reasoned I had to get back into the mountains and get used to trail running again. I had already done a few shorter mountain runs but it's time to get serious again and so I spent 3 hours in the local mountains last Sunday. I was more or less following the Ecotrail route round the Sugarloafs and Bray Head, which not only got my legs used to trail running but also re-acquainted myself with the race route. I used my mobile for navigation, which turned out to be a good move because there was at least one junction where I would have missed my turn otherwise. Even though I wasn't even doing the part of the race route with the best views, they were still breathtaking - I can see what attracts people to mountain running, despite my annoying habit of stumbling on the uneven terrain every now and then.

I also ran more than I hiked, something I probably did wrong last year. It can be very tempting to hike a lot on these trails but I managed to run most bits, apart from the really steep climbs or the particularly stony ones where I almost certainly would have face-planted otherwise,

I was pretty tired after 3 hours of mountain running but remarkably I did not develop DOMS afterwards, so I guess the training is going well so far and my mountain-specific fitness is already increasing. However, I also tried to do a bike workout later that day which was supposed to take 90 minutes but eventually my calves started cramping, and while I managed to nurse them along for a while I had to abandon ship after an hour. That's interesting - while I sure have had big problems with cramping in races I don't remember ever cramping in training. I guess it's a sign that I'm pushing the envelope, but after the massive cramping issues I've had in last year's Ecotrail and this year's Donadea I definitely need to work on my fitness to avoid yet another repeat.

DOMS

Jesus, has it been 4 weeks already? I know time flies as you're getting older but this is going at hyperspeed.

The one thing I had genuinely forgotten about mountain runs is that your quads get shredded on the downhills and then you're in for a couple of days of pain. Which is, of course, exactly what happened to me after my first sojourn into the Wicklow mountains, tentative as it was. I repeated the same loop 2 weeks later, and while the DOMS struck again they were nowhere near as bad as the first time round, so I guess things are adapting already. Unfortunately the weather has turned again after a few days of nice sunshine, and there is not a hope in hell I'll go running in the mountains when there is a possibility of thunderstorms. Mind, my road runs are starting to accumulate a lot of elevation as well ever since I discovered a few new routes towards Enniskerry, which should hopefully help, but I know from personal experience that the only thing that properly trains you for a mountain run is a genuine mountain run.

Last week Niamh mentioned that this will be the first year in a very long time when I'm not doing any races, as the day of my cancelled Ironman passed, though I did remind her of the fact that I had done Donadea in February, so it's definitely not going to be a year of not racing at all. However, I did not hold out much hope for an autumn race, with DCM being cancelled long ago and the lockdown still in place. However, someone pointed out to me that the Ecotrail race was still on, at least for the time being. Initially I wasn't interested - I had done it last year and the pain of all those hours nursing my cramping legs across those mountains was still too fresh in my mind, and I sure thought I'd had enough of that kind of stupid masochism.

Then it was still on, and a few friends signed up, and then Norbert pretty much talked me into it, and so, eventually, I dug out my credit card and signed up. While there is no guarantee that it will indeed go ahead, I think there is a good chance that it will. Trail running makes it so much easier to enforce social distancing - hell, you'd be hard pressed to violate social distancing at times as you struggle across empty spaces far removed from civilisation for hours on your own. The only problem is, now I need to get fit for yet another 50 mile race, this time with mountains. I managed to drag my sorry arse across the Donadea loops in a sorry state, but there is no way you can fake your away across the mountains that way, so some serious training will have to be done. Let's hope the weather will improve. As I said, there's no way I'd head into the wilderness on my own in bad conditions. Growing up in the mountains does teach you a few things that won't leave you, even decades later.

And thanks for the shoutout this morning "how's the rubbish marathon going!". It's actually still nice to get recognised from time to time :)

I Pity The Fool

Last week I finished off the 8 week 5k training program I had been following on Zwift. It was very strange in 2 completely separate ways - firstly that I was doing it on a treadmill and secondly that I was doing a 5k training program at all - me, the ultra runner with the Diesel engine and without a single fast twitch fibre. Anyway, I finished it off with the obligatory 5k time trial, obviously with a fair amount of trepidation, and ended it with a 19:16 treadmill TT, a pretty decent improvement compared to the 19:44 I had done 4 weeks earlier as part of the boards.ie TT.

As it happens, the community on boards.ie had gotten the taste for virtual races and today was the second installment, and this time it was the mile! That's even more fish-out-of-water territory for me, so of course I jumped at the chance and signed up (while trying to ignore the fact that Anto has been organising a series of virtual ultras all along).

I knew what to expect.

I was already chancing my luck bombing along at 5k pace on my home treadmill, so for that one I was definitely heading outwards, and the flattest piece of road anywhere nearby is obviously the Prom, though I avoided the Prom itself because, you know, people and social distancing, so I ran on the bike path parallel to it and don't worry, I jumped off onto the road whenever a cyclist was nearby.

The fact that my first glance at the watch in desperation was as early as 0.18 miles wasn't a good sign, though in my defence I was a bit paranoid about missing the turnaround point.

A 19:16 5k would translate into a 5:33 mile, though taking my speed-deprived legs into account you could probably add a few seconds to that, but even that always sounded way too optimistic - at the GOAL mile half a year ago I wasn't even able to break 6, so in the end I was actually pretty pleased with 5:56, faster than my previous fastest mile at the 2018 GOAL mile, and let's completely ignore the fact that I used to run a lot faster for 5Ks. Getting old sucks, but I think I might have mentioned that before.

Hey, it's good to be alive and we're having the sunniest spring in Irish history, which makes the lockdown so much more bearable.

Stay safe.

Still Alive

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

All the best.

Stay safe!

My Friend Michael

I do apologise in advance. I have been silent for 10 weeks, which has never happened before, and now I'm coming back with a real downer of a post. I just had to get that off my chest.

In all honesty, I didn't know Michael all that well. It was his wife that I had known for many years, and Michael came along much later. But we did meet on a few occasions and several years ago they stayed with us for a couple of days when some of us did the Valentia triathlon, down in Kerry. We got to talk a good bit and I knew him a little better after that.

The one quality I admire in people almost more than anything else is resilience. Michael had tons of that. He really had the odds stacked against him. He was born blind, caused by a genetic condition which he shared with some of his siblings. That alone would have been enough to stop almost everyone. Not Michael. He didn't let that get in his way. He became a successful athlete, doing triathlons and marathons and more, training when he could, despite the obvious obstacles.

He also met a wonderful, supportive partner, married her and had 2 children. And then, as if being blind wasn't enough, he got cancer. He didn't take that lying down either; he fought it with all he could. When things got worse, he opted for a dangerous operation rather than let it all drift away, which was of course typical of him. He was never the one to give up, no matter how hard it was.

Actually, the operation seemed to work, he got another lease of life, could see his little girls grow up for a bit longer, but then it all came back and this time there was to be no stopping it. The cancer had come back, he was told he had less than a year to live and this time there was nothing anyone could do to stop it.

Michael passed away last night. My thought are with his family, particularly his wife and his girls, the youngest of whom is probably too young to ever remember him in years to come.

Life can be so fucking unfair! Good bye, Michael. You were one of the most inspirational people I have ever met. I will miss you!