Saturday September 20th was my third half marathon. It was part of the Dublin Race Series. The series consists of the Irish Runner 5 Mile, the Fingal 10K, the Frank Duffy 10 Mile and the Dublin Half Marathon. It’s a great way to begin your journey towards completing a Half Marathon and putting the full Dublin Marathon in your sights.
Despite my good intentions to train really hard and beat my last half marathon time of 1.56 which was in Wicklow, the lure of good food and drink kept me far too occupied to get any training in. Given that I had already signed up to do it and received my race number in the post, I figured what the hell I’ll give it a bash anyway. Besides I had told people I was doing it so the shame of not competing would be too much.
Race Number
I think I managed to do about two runs in prep for it, which is not something I would recommend. Pushing your body to run 21k should be taken a bit more serious than that. If you don’t train properly you are leaving yourself wide open to injury, some of which can take a long time to recover from. So if you do want to run that distance, build up to it and train properly for it. Ignore the part where I’m telling you I went against my own advice.
On the morning of the race I drove to town, parked in Trinity College and got the Luas to Heuston Station where the organisers had a shuttle bus to take runners into the centre of Phoenix Park to the start line. It was probably only a twenty minute walk and the wait time for the bus was about the same. The irony of the situation was not lost on me. There were thousands of people signed up to run and plenty more out supporting family, friends and strangers alike.
Start Line
Runners Dropping Off Their Bags
Runners Getting Into Place
There was a great atmosphere at the start with runners broken into waves based on their intended running time. This gives everyone the chance to come off the start line and start running rather than waiting for thousands of people in front of you to move first. Despite my lack of training I joined the group with pacers who were aiming to complete in two hours. I knew this would be a fairly good guideline for me having already completed my first half marathon in 2.07 and my second in 1.56.
The course covered quite a bit of the Phoenix Park with one small stretch running outside the grounds along Chapelizod Road and back in Chapelizod Gate. The Phoenix Park is an absolute pleasure to run around I have to say. The majority of the course was quite flat as well which is always a good thing.
Course Route
As it turned out a friend of a friend was running with a group of girls beside me and managed to snap my picture a couple of times along the way.
Snapped Along The Way
Snapped Along The Way
There were of course also the usual professional photographers along the route. I don’t think its possible to look your best when you are running as you will see from the pretty awful looking pictures of me below. As it got quite sunny I’m also donning a pair of shades.
Snapped Along The Way From: http://www.finisherpix.com/home.html
Snapped Along The Way From: http://www.finisherpix.com/home.html
Even with the lack of training I managed to get a chip time of 2hrs 3 mins and 45 seconds. Not too shabby at all. I have to admit that my legs were a little tender for a day or two after the race so I won’t be stupid enough to skip training before a half marathon again.
Across the Finish Line. From: http://www.finisherpix.com/home.html
Official Chip Time
Next on my race list is the Clontarf Half Marathonwhich takes place on November 29th 2014 and I’ll definitely be making a point of training for this one. I might even try beat my personal best time.
Summer. It’s a perfect time for lots of outdoor running but it’s also the season of beer gardens, drinks after work, boozy lunches and sipping wine on the terrace. I think I need to find a way to combine the two. Now I don’t mean drink while I run because that’s not exactly healthy and may end badly. The thing is lately I’ve been a bit lazy with my running. My focus seems to have shifted a little too much to the joys of eating and drinking and there are just so many joys.
So having hit my goals with the Wexford Half Marathon back in April I once again slipped into being a bit lazy and neglecting my running. Apparently my legs seem well able to remember how to run but my will power has a bit more trouble remembering how to lace my trainers and hit the road.
Sometimes I need to remind myself again about the benefits of running and why I started in the first place. So here’s a quick recap of why I run.
1: It Clears My Mind: The feeling you get when you are running is just amazing. I usually run to music. It helps me clear my mind. I start off at a steady pace and after about 1k I find my mind has stopped racing. The only thing that is racing are my legs. Everything else is left behind and I have a feeling of calm. Sometimes if I’m a bit tired I set myself small goals along the way. I’ll pick a point in the distance and tell myself I’ll run to that. As soon as I reach it, I pick another and keep going. If I hit a hill I might switch to a more upbeat song and I find it pushes me on. Running = calm.
2: It’s Free: Like a lot of people I am a member of a gym. Like a lot of people I pay a monthly membership and never go. Will I continue to do this, probably. Luckily for me it’s only about €20 a month so I can live with that. Running on a threadmill is beyond boring. Apart from that, in my opinion the threadmill does half the work for you anyway. Lacing up a pair of trainers and stepping outside the front door does not cost anything. Sure you need a pair of trainers with at least a decent level of support in them but they don’t need to cost you a fortune. Running = free.
3: The Feeling After: I absolutely love the feeling I get after a run. Sometimes my legs will feel a little stiff or a little tender, depending on how regularly I have been training. Sometimes they have that nice toned/tight feeling which makes you keep flexing your leg muscles with a smug grin. I feel healthy. I feel awake. I feel energised. I sleep better. Who doesn’t want to feel all that especially when it’s free. Running = feeling great.
4: Competition: A bit of competition is healthy, whether it’s just with yourself or with others. Any time I enter a competitve race regardless of whether it is a 5k a 10k or a half marathon I try to improve how I perfromed previously. If I happen to be running the same race with someone else then the competition level kicks up a notch and some racing rivalry creeps in. It’s actually great fun and spurs me on a bit more. Running = striving to improve.
5: Goodbye Belly: As I mentioned I am a member of a gym and my visits are not exactly regular. I should go more often and dedicate time to the other parts of my body but thats another conversation entirely. What I love about running is the fact that results kind of creep up on you. When I started I had a bit (a lot) of belly going on. It didn’t disappear after one run. I didn’t disappear after 20 runs, but it did start to gradually get smaller. For my own vanity I took some before and after shots. It was probably about six weeks into running that I really started to notice the differance. My jeans weren’t quite so tight. My tshirts fit a bit better. The mid 30’s spread of my waistline had stopped. When you notice that it encourages you even more. Anytime I get a bit lazy with my running I dig out my before and after photo’s and they give me the kick I need to start again. Running = goodbye belly.
The pictures below are my before and after shots. The belly is clearly evident for all to see. The pictures were taken probably about 2 months apart. Like I said it doesn’t just disappear overnight you have to work on it. When I get lazy I look at the guy on the right and it reminds me very quickly of one of the reasons why I run.
I’ve neglected my running section of this blog for the last few weeks so figured it was about time to update it a little. I might have been a bit too focussed on having a good time with food and drink. No harm in that I suppose.
My last post was a review of how I got on competing in the Venice Marathon. A thoroughly enjoyable, exhausting and rewarding experience all in one. After that I slowed down a bit and stuck to a few short 5k runs around where I live. I also took a bit of time out to focus on some exams I was doing (all passed). To kick start me back into a proper running routine again I signed myself up for the Wexford half marathon on Sunday April 27th 2014.
I was fairly focussed on my training for it. I find if I have a goal in mind I will put more effort into preparing for it. Wexford was my second half marathon to date. I decided to head down on my own for it so booked a hotel and a train ticket and headed down the day before.
Wexford Half
The first half marathon I completed was the Rock ‘n’ Rollone in Dublin in 2013. My finishing time for this was 2.07 which I was delighted with. When the Wexford one came around, being quite competititve I had it in my mind that I wanted to beat my previous time and aim for a 2 hour half marathon. I figured this was very achievable.
The day I arrived in Wexford it was literally pissing down. It was cold, wet and very windy. I looked out my hotel window and declared to myself that there was no way in hell I was going to run the next day if it was like that. Baby Jesus obviously heard me because when I woke the next day the sun was shining and it was bone dry out. Perfect for running.
So I lined up with the rest of the olympians stuck on my iPod and away I went. The course was a single loop of Wexford town and its surrounds including a very scenic run through Johnstown Castle. The course was actually quite enjoyable. It had an elevation of +75m over a 4k distance and then a nice downhill section.
Course Route
As with all races I’ve taken part in to date the sense of camaraderie on the day was very evidant. A lovely older lady gave me some jelly beans along the way and told me they would keep me going. She must have been about 70 but was running past me at the time.
In the picture below I’m either camera shy or had taken to running with my eyes closed for some bizarre reason.
Running around Johnstown Castle
Think thats on the home stretch!
As mentioned my aim was to try and complete the course in 2 hours. I was fairly close to the start of the pack when we started the race so when I came around the corner towards the finish line and spotted the clock I was fairly certain the time showing was an accurate account of how I was getting on. The numbers loomed large and green and told me I was at 1.55.
I was a head of what I wanted to achieve and not only that I was within spitting distance of both the finish line and hitting the 1.56 time that my buddy Mincer had achieved in his first half marathon. A time, which at any given opportunity is thrown out as a little reminder that he had run faster than me in his half marathon. If that wasn’t the thing that was going to make me dig deep and leg it to the finish line then nothing was. No way in hell I would get that close and not match his time.
I’m delighted to say that I did pass the finish line at 1.56 which meant I beat my first half marathon time by about 11 minutes, beat my target of finishing in 2 hours and also matched my buddy’s time. A successful day all round I have to say.
This post might be kinda long so grab a beer or glass of wine and settle in.
Having suffered the pure shame of the pre Pre Venice Health Check I made sure I limited myself to one beer the day before the actual marathon. A more sensible man would probably have no beer at all but being sensible is not a claim I’ve ever made.
More Beer Please
In keeping with martahon tradition I carb loaded the night. That’s sports talk for stuffing your face with pasta, which I did. Made sure I went home early and organised my stuff for the next morning. I’m sure everyone has their own way of doing things, but I reckon I suffer from a touch of OCD so I checked I had everything I needed, then immediately checked again and then once more before I went to bed.
As it turned out the start line for the race was out in Stra which is a bit of a trek to be honest. On the morning of the race I had to get up spectacularly early. My alarm went off at about 5.30 and then I spent a half hour doing that ten more minutes and I’ll get up thing in my head. Finally at 6 I dragged my ass out of bed to shower and get ready. It was dark and it was cold and I was tired, but also excited, and a little nervous, like I went to the toilet twice with nerves (thats the polite way of saying it).
It was far to early for the non runners to go to the start line with me so I told them to stay put. My buddy however took a stroll down to the water shuttle stop with me. Really I think it was to take embarassing photos like the one below of me. I look like a child on his first day of school. I swear I’m much more attractive in real life. Plus I look really short. I’m actually just under six foot. Well about a half a foot under six foot.
Marathon Morning
So the journey consisted of a walk from the apartment to the water shuttle stop. Then a sail down the canal to Piazzale Roma which was actually quite nice. Lots of fellow runners got on along the way and we all done that silent nod that says ‘your part of the group’ but it was far too early to be chatting. After the boat there was a 15 minute walk to get a bus. There was also a serious lack of sign posts telling us which way to go. I done the smart thing and followed a group that had that look about them that said ‘I know where I’m going’. They didn’t and we all got lost and turned back and went for Plan B which was to follow a bigger crowd because loads of people can’t be wrong. Turned out they weren’t and we found the bus.
Start Line
So the bus took about 30 minutes to drive out to the starting point. As I gazed out the window I thought to myself a number of time, FUCK this is a long way and I have to run home. Finally reaching the starting line I dumped my bag at the collection point, queued for the portaloos for a final pre marathon nerves check and then wandered over to the corrals. The start line was actually in a beautiful spot called Villa Pisaniwhich had huge walls around it. So I didn’t stand out I made sure I had a wee against the wall like everyone else and pretended to stretch my legs.
After about 15 mins we were moved into our corrals. I was number 8. The hardcore runners were up the front. By this point I was kinda cold and I was hungry too and I’d been up about 5 hours, oh and the small matter of now running 26 miles home again.
It wasn’t long before my corral was passing the start line. Quick check of my watch to see the exact time I passed. That way I could be sure to mentally torture myself along the way trying to hit my target of between 4 and 5 hours. I actually felt great as soon as I started running. I was hydrated and had plenty of gel bars strapped to me to keep me nourished. I’d made a playlist which started off nice and steady and then increased in tempo bit by bit. I made a point of drinking at each water station. There were loads of people out supporting all along the route which really helps when you are running. I had my breathing in check and I managed to hit the half marathon point in a time of 2hrs 14 minutes without stopping once. I was delighted with myself and fairly much on target with my timings.
Great Support Along The Route
Having already run 20 miles during my Eco 2 Run event I knew what to expect. So I kept my steady pace, albeit a little slower and continued on. The route took us through lots of little towns and villages and all the kids along the route had their hands out for high fives. The support was just tremendous.
The route was very well equipped in terms of water stations, sponging stations and after 10 miles every station had fruit and biscuit pieces to keep everyone fuelled. I hit the 20 mile mark after about 3 hrs 45 which was quite respectable. That was the furthest I had ever run before. I’d say within the space of another mile, my hips and I knew we weren’t prepared for the last 6 miles. In fairness my hips knew before I did and they weren’t shy about telling me. I was also getting a bit of a pain in my left foot (not the movie, but link to it here its quite good).
All the books on preparing for a marathon tell you that you should only train to a maximum of 20 miles. So thats what I done. I’m sure it works great for lots of people because these books have sold thousands of copies. However, I’m going to say it out loud, I DON’T AGREE, but that is only from experience. It’s like offering someone a lift home and then letting them out six miles before their house. Why would you do that?
So the last six miles of the marathon. Well they thought me a lot about myself. I wanted to give up. I was feeling very unmotivated. At the same time I refused to give in. I had gone that far, there was no way I was after travelling all the way to Venice and quitting in the last six miles. Sure the shame alone would kill me.
My hips were sore and my foot was sore. Funnily enough I wasn’t dramatically tired. That type of tired where ya kinda feel a bit dopey. I wasn’t dehyrdated. In fact I stopped at a little hotel along the way to use their toilet and my wee was perfecty clear which is always a good sign. I actually had a sit down wee, which for anyone who doesn’t know, it’s having a number 1 in the number 2 position when your kinda tired and want to take a moment out (yes it’s strange for men to do it but more of us do it than you think).
But god me hips were at me. Same thing happened to me after my 20 miles run a month before the marathon. But at that point they were sore before I hit 20 miles, this time they were sore after I hit 20 miles. So I had definately made progress, just not enough. The last six miles were pure and utter torture and there is no point pretending they weren’t. It took sheer grit, lots of pain, and me saying this about 20 times ‘baby Jesus if you let me finish this I’ll be the best boy ever’. I actually don’t think he was listening or he was going, ‘ah here’s yar man again with his poor me help me out routine’. On I went and just to recap:
Half Marathon point (13 miles) at 2.14 hrs
20 Mile point at 3.45 hrs
The last six miles actually took me 1 hr 28 minutes to complete. They killed me. There was a huge stretch of it which was a road right though the lagoon which was perfectly straight and seemingly never ending. I also had to stop for a wee on that stretch without the modesty of even a hedge or ditch to stand in front of. All I could find was a knee high bollard seperating the road from the railway line. The only good thing about doing a wee along a straight line like that is it encourages you to run away from the people behind you when you are finished. So thats what I did. I dug deep and pushed forward.
Nearly There
Hitting the island of Venice was an amazing feeling. The organisers had bulilt a pontoon bridge across the canal for us to run over which I really only appreciated afterwards. We ran through Saint Marks square. I made sure I kept my chin up and forced a smile for that bit. I even heard a couple of people call my name to encourage me (names on bibs). There were about 14 little ramps I had to go over to reach the finish line and each one was like a mini Everest to me. The closer I got the more I wanted to push harder. It’s funny how that happens. My hips were sore and my foot was sore but the rest of me was pushing forward.
Pontoon Bridge
Saint Marks Square
Coming over the final ramp I seen the finish line and the big judgemental clock with its glaring green numbers declaring for all to see I was well behind the time I had hoped for. Nevertheless a wave of relief rolled over me. I was going to finish. I was actually going to finish the marathon. I knew my buddys were waiting at the finish line, which happened to be literally around the corner from our apartment. The finish line itself is a blur. I was slightly delerious I think (see pic below). In a matter of minutes I had passed it, been given a foil blanket, had a medal around my neck and was carrying a bag of fruit. Very efficient the Italians.
Approaching Finish Line
The Prize
I met my buddys and within minutes we were seated outside a bar, funnily enough beside a canal. I figured since my apartment was three floors up with no lift, the sensible thing to do was to have a few beers because I may never walk again. The beer was a welcome change to the bucket loads of water I had been drinking and it was well deserved. Despite being quite well hydrated my skin was covered in salt. You could literally rub chips on my arms and eat them. I may have given my arm a bit of a lick to confirm. Yes I was salty.
Post Marathon Selfie
It actually took a while for it to sink in that I had actually ran, walked, stumbled and nearly crawled my way through a marathon. Not only that, in the space of about 7 months, I had managed to get off the couch, run a 5k, run a 10k, run a Half-Marathon, run a20 miler disgrace myself at a Health Checkand I completed a full marathon. While my final time of 5 hrs 13 minutes was definately longer than I wanted, oveall it wasn’t too shabby and I was already thinking I wanted more.
Official Time
Thats the winner, clearly it wasn’t me who won incase you thought it was!
Having signed up to compete in the 28th Venice Marathon on Sunday October 27th I also had to have a medical cert issued to say that I was fit and healthy and ready to run. As it turned out I didn’t have time to get it done in Dublin as I couldn’t get an appointment with my doctor. The organisers of the marathon however had the helpful option of completing the health check in Venice. Solution found to my problem. I signed up on line to do mine on Friday October 25th at 10.00 a.m in Delta Medica in Mestre. I’d have it done nice and early get it out of the way and then sit back safe in the knowledge the only thing left was the small matter of running the 26 miles.
We (me, Him-indoors and Mincer) flew out to Venice on Thursday 24th fairly early in the morning. Flight about 9ish I think. Like all good Irish boys we were in the airport about two hours beforehand. When I say airport I obviously mean airport bar. We dropped our bags off and then headed to the bar to drop off our pre flight jitters with a few pints. There is something terribly exciting about having a pint before 8 o’clock in the morning. It’s like breaking a rule but because you are technically on holiday you don’t get shunned for it. Everyone knows you can drink at any time of the day or night while on holidays. Myself and Mincer had a few pints of Coors and Him-indoors sensibly stayed on tea (which reminds me, you can’t get a proper cup of tea when you are away).
After boarding the flight myself and Mincer got stuck into the mini bottles of wine. As they are smaller it’s perfectly ok to drink as many of them as you like. So we did. I would say we were only slightly merry when we arrived in Venice. Loads of room for more beer and wine. If you haven’t been to Venice you won’t know how gorgeous it is. Being a bit touched by OCD I had looked up all possible routes from Marco Polo airport to our apartment which was only a few minutes walk from the Arsenale stop. I had visions of myself arriving by Gondola like James Bond in his finery. We got the water bus with all the rest of the economy class people and I was in jeans and a TShirt. It was a bit cramped seat wise and kind of the equivalent of Ryanair on the sea but it got us where we wanted to go in under an hour and the views were just amazing
Arriving Like This ! I wish
Actually Arrived Like This
We found our apartment and dropped our bags and after a good 3-4 second debate we went to the pub. It’s always important to set yourself a goal each today. The goal today was to get roaring drunk as it was the first night of our holiday. We were staying on a lovely street with bars, cafes and restaurants and set out exploring them. Fast forward about ten hours and not only have we hit our goal, we have surpassed it by such a distance that it was now a vague memory. At some point auto pilot must have kicked in because I was woken by my alarm screeching in my ear.
Fuuuuuuuuuucccccckkkkkkkkkkkk I have my marathon health check today. A thousand thoughts flying through my mind. Go back asleep and pretend it’s not happening. Go back to sleep for ten more minutes you will definitely wake up again. Go back to sleep because you can’t focus your eyes correctly and there is a brass band actually rehearsing inside your head. Go back to sleep because getting up after a massive booze session is just not humane.
I managed to literally drag myself to the shower and dress. Him-indoors who not as badly drunk the night before as me also got up to go to the health check with me. I was rattling and I mean rattling with a hangover. Mestre where the place I had to go to was actually on the mainland. I had to get a boat first. That wasn’t actually that bad because I could sit outdoors and worst case scenario I could throw up over the side. After the boat there was a bus trip of about 20 minutes. That 20 minutes felt like two hours. It was a billion degrees (well it was warm) and the sweat was pouring off me. I had a plastic bag in my pocket in case of an emergency. I was that kind of hung over on public transport where you think that everyone is looking at you and they can see you get paler by the second and nudge each other as if to say ‘look at your man he’s going to throw up’.
When I finally got off the bus I had to then walk about another 15 minutes to find the medical centre. Alcohol had somehow managed to take away my power of direction. Despite using Google Maps I still kept getting lost. I had to ring and say I was lost and would be an hour late. To be fair they were very accommodating and made me a new appointment.
Clutching a bottle of water like my life depended on it I sat in the waiting room until my name was called. The staff was incredibly friendly with a fair grasp of English. I could tell the nurse suspected I was a little under the weather. I was still sweating and could only manage slow responses. My name, my name……. I know this one.. Rory that’s my name. She made me blow into some kind of lung checker thing and seemed happy with the results. She filled in a few notes and said we were done. Wow that was easy. NOPE I was done with her but had to see the doctor.
So off to the next room I went and answered more questions. This doctor while equally nice had pidgin English and my Italian was pretty much not existent. Through the great art of speaking the same words louder and the wonder that is miming actions we muddled our way through a questionnaire. I then found myself sitting on an exercise bike with about ten ECG type leads stuck to my back and chest which were hooked up to a monitor. At that point I felt the need to explain I was hung over. Like really hung over. He smiled and nodded and made a gesture that I had to start cycling. Not until that moment did it enter my head that a health check would involve any kind of exercise. I needed sleep and lots of it.
I Needed This
I began to sweat. Like really sweat. Beads of water dripping down my face sweat. I was literally boiling hot. It was like I was actually sitting on the sun itself. I think I was cycling for about 45 seconds at this point. Then came the ‘dizzy’. I started to lose focus and had to squint to see around me. Everything was moving. The exercise bike must have come off its stand. That would explain the moving. No, it was the hangover fighting to take control and it was winning big time. It’s at that point you say that little prayer silently in your head ‘if I get through this I won’t drink again’.
I Imagine I looked like this
The doctor made the international mime gesture for cycle faster. I made the international gesture for I feel like shit and would rather die than endure any more of this. That gesture manifested itself as me shaking my head and rubbing my belly and looking really really sad. As it turned out that gesture had not made it to Italy and he had no idea I was in distress. He probably just thought I was really unfit. I’ll assume he had no sense of smell because I smelled like the slops bucket from behind a bar.
Then came the chills running up my spine and the taste of acid in my mouth and I knew it was all over for me. Gimme the bin, gimmie the bin I slurred at the nice doctor. He smiled and looked at this watch then checked the monitor on the bike. The bin, the bin, I need the bin. Too late. I threw myself off the bike dragging my ECG leads with me and spent a good five minutes with my head in the bin. The only thing I didn’t throw up were my memories and they were fuzzy at best. Not to be disgusting but it was the type of throw up that involves your whole face and it was coming out my nose.
God that felt good. I felt so much better. I was also standing half naked attached to ten leads beside a bin in a doctor’s office at a health check to declare I’m in a perfectly healthy condition. The irony was not lost on me. The doctor stared open mouthed at me. I stared back and then with what little self respect I had left, I done the decent thing and looked at the floor in shame.
He handed me a roll of tissue to tidy myself up and started taking the leads off me. Neither of us spoke. There was nothing really to say. I knew what I had done. He knew what I had done. He was gracious enough to let me take on the job of feeling humiliated enough without adding to it. The Italians are lovely like that.
After I composed myself I said as upbeat as I could ‘so did I pass?’ It turned out that I actually did pass but he did mumble something about me not looking well. I went back to the language of international gestures (miming drinking) and told him I had drank too much the night before but I was ok. I think I might have thrown in ‘I’m Irish’ to clear up any lingering confusion. He signed my form and I clutched it to me like a newborn baby and headed out the door.
Him-indoors was in the waiting room and could tell from my face I was not a well man. We made a swift exit from the buliding and I told him what had happened. I was not ready to laugh about it but he found it hysterical. We had to walk 3 miles then to the Expo to pick up my race pack before going home. It did have quite a snazzy running vest in it which I immediately put on. I had bloody well earned it and going to let everyone know I was a contender in this marathon. The day was a write off in every sense of the word. I swore I’m never drinking again.
Having finished my first half marathon and not ending up in a wheelchair I got to thinking that I could give a full marathon a shot. So along with him-indoors and a buddy we decided we would all take a trip to Venice and run the 28th Venice Marathon in October. Sure why not. Besides the Dublin Marathon was far too common. The Italians are known for their style so I could only assume their marathon would be a glitzy affair.
Within a few weeks of deciding to do it him-indoors was complaining of ankle trouble. To be fair he was walking like John Wayne. A few trips to the doctor later and he was officially out of the running for Venice. Meanwhile my other buddy was complaining of hip problems. I assumed it was because he walked with a mince. True story he does and apparently never knew until I pointed it out. It’s a walk that says ‘hello boys’. His American Indian name would be ‘Walks with Mince’.
As it turned out his hips were out of line because he used to sit on his leg as a child, oh and he had a stress fracture in his leg. A stress fracture is like the poor relation of a real fracture. Not quite a fracture but serious enough to curtail your running. So that was him out too. They did both decide that a holiday in Venice would still be fun and would support me as the Lone Runner.
Training for Venice kicked in. A lovely colour coded marathon training plan was created full of ambition and dreams of running stardom. It was created with the help of a great book by Hal Higdon called Marathon. My stress fracture (mincer) buddy gave me a loan of it. Another runner had recommended it to him. See lovely bunch runners, couldn’t be more helpful and all about sharing secrets. I’ll throw out some personal thoughts on marathon plans and what distance to train to in a later post. The book said I should train to a maximum of 20 miles and no more. The actual marathon would be 26 miles. That’s another six miles I’m somehow pulling out of the running bag on the day. Better be a big bloody bag.
Marathon by Hal Higdon
As a pre marathon goal and to bench mark my progress I signed up to the Eco 2 Run 20 mile run which was taking place on September 29th in Dublin. If I could do that then I could run Venice a month later. That was the plan. My training for it was up and down. Good weeks where I ran my ass off and bad weeks where I sat my ass off on the couch. Again I found myself thinking how far exactly is 20 miles. So anytime I went somewhere (in the car) I was keeping an eye on how far I had driven. I very quickly realised how far it was. It was VERY FAR. It was far driving never mind actually running it. I had signed up and told people I was doing it so I couldn’t exactly back out. Loss of face will win every time over loss of the use of my legs due to running ridiculous lengths. So I was committed to this 20 miler.
I trained as much as I could (blatant lie I did not I was lazy loads) for it and turned up on the day. I had done all my pre race checks the night before. Things like make sure I had my running playlist and enough of the gel bars I liked (Banana Blast) to get me through. In keeping with my very girlie (no offense girls) obsession in ensuring my shorts and top matched I decided on white shorts with a red top and white socks with a red trim. In the event I got tired and couldn’t run any further I had great faith that my matching outfit would be enough to push me forward across the finish line. I’m only smiling because I haven’t run yet.
The Race Hasn’t Started Yet
I’m hiding near the back of that group of people.
Start Line
The turnout for the race was much smaller than I had thought it would be. It was in the hundreds rather than in the thousands. The course consisted of four identical laps around an area of Dublin Port. (See course route pic below). In terms of running through a scenic area and getting to see the city the course unfortunately failed on all accounts.
Course Route
I found this course to be particularly difficult for a number of reasons.
1 – Running the same four laps can become quite boring.
2 – The route was quite industrial so there wasn’t really much to look at.
3 – The number of people running as mentioned was much smaller than previous runs which meant there were stretches of the course were I found myself running completely on my own. I was used to having fellow runners beside, in front and behind me. If there was no-one in front I had no-one to chase after and if there was no-one behind I had no-one to try and keep a head of.
4 – The smaller number of people running meant there was a small spectator group cheering us on. I’ve said it before but it really is quite amazing how cheers from complete strangers can spur you on.
On the last lap my hips were killing me. My feet were fine. My hydration was fine. I’d gone through enough gel bars to feed a small country and I wasn’t really that tired. But the hips, Jesus they were sore. I’m rubbish at stretching before and after training and when I actually do, hips never come into it. I just assumed they do their own thing and they are one body part I don’t have to bother about. WRONG!!!! WRONG!!! My hips were sore and I was struggling along with an outlandish kind of stride which was a mix between looking at someone who needed to use the toilet and someone who wanted to cry due to pain.
Nevertheless I got stuck into the last lap and despite the HIPS I managed quite a respectable time. Actually no, I completely amazed myself. I came across the line in 03:20:59 Not too shabby at all and much faster that I thought I would. The chip time worked out to be 03.20.30 (not much of a differance)
Tortured Look
There wasn’t a medal in sight that I could flash around later in the pub but there were some bottles of water and bananas so I got stuck into them. My hips were actually in bits for a good 7-8 days after that race. Like any sensible person I immediately Googled hip pain and self diagnosed myself with two hip fractures and took to the bed. I did also seek some advice from someone more qualified than Google and now am an avid ‘hip stretcher’. I’d go as far as to say I’d give Shakira a run for her money. Next stop Venice Marathon!
My goal when I started running was to run 5K. I hit it and wanted more. The new goal was to run 10K. I hit that and wanted more. Running is addictive and psychologically 5k increments are very doable. What about a half marathon though. That would be over double anything I had run before. It wasn’t just another 5k. Continue reading →
Having completed my first 5k run run I was hungry for more. I needed a new goal to keep me motivated. Myself, Him-indoors and a buddy (the one who introduced me to running) signed up for the Samsung Night Run. A 10k run through the streets of Dublin at night. Continue reading →
Saturday September 20th was my third half marathon. It was part of the Dublin Race Series. The series consists of the Irish Runner 5 Mile, the Fingal 10K, the Frank Duffy 10 Mile and the Dublin Half Marathon. It’s a great way to begin your journey towards completing a Half Marathon and putting the full Dublin Marathon in your sights.
