Second marathon of the year. Did it the low-cost way: 6 good
weeks of 25-30M with 6 long runs thrown in: 16, 16, 18, 20, 19
and 18 two weeks out. Ran cross-country the Sunday before and
then two short runs the week of the race. Got three bouts of
physio in too and was told I was in good shape. The hamstrings
gave me no real problems in the run-up either. The long runs
themselves were all fairly positive, especially the 20M I did
over in Tuam four weeks out with locals, Brendan Monaghan and Jim
Daly. I'd been fooled by good training runs before so wasn't
putting too much stock in them.
This was my first Dublin and my fourth in total, to add to two
Connemarathons and one Longford. Went up with Mick Rice and Alan
Burke on Sunday morning. There was little else talked about
other than race the whole way. What's new! Would Mick dip under
2:45 for the first time? He was looking very sharp and his
training, after a long injury lay off earlier in the year, had
been faultless as usual. Alan was hoping to dip under 3:00 for
the first time. This was as much a stretch for him as it was for
Mick to dip under his hoped-for time.
The main question I had: What was I going to go out at and could
I hold for 26 miles whatever I was gunning for? I decided after
consultation with my "elders" to aim for two modest-enough
targets: get to 10M in 82:30 and 20M in 2:45 and see what would
happen from there.
Made a quick trip out to the book fair in the Tara Towers before
coming back into the DCM Expo to pick up my number and do a
little bit of schmoozing. Met up with John Walshe, Lindie
Naughton and a goodly number of the other Athenry AC crew,
including Peadar Nugent who was hammering some last minute
instructions into my thick skull.
Eventually - after one phone call - found a place to stay, out in
Jury's Montrose, but first off a trip to Da Pino's in Parliament
Street for the now customary 'Last Supper'.
Back in the hotel by 9:30 PM and in bed by 11:00 PM. Up early on
race morning and the weather was as it had been for most of the
last 8 weeks: dry and clear, if a little breezy, with the sun
coming out later in the morning.
Got down to reception and the first of a few speed bumps that
morning. A taxi would be nearly an hour - seemingly all were
busy right then and there. I hadn't booked the night before.
7:20 AM. What would I do? I was only focused on getting to the
start in good time so started walking thinking it was *only* two
miles. It was 15 minutes down the road and outside the gates of
RTE when I twigged to give Mick a call to come out and collect me
on what were now deserted roads. Too late, he was already gone
into town and had left the phone in the car. I stumbled onwards,
getting to the start with no obvious effort after 8:10 AM.
Stopped off for a pint of milk on the way in, thinking of nothing
else except getting to the race in time. Had no breakfast nor
would I get another chance before the race started, nor did I
think of it, if truth be told. Oops!
After one hour walking, I got to the luggage area, met fellow
traveller Eddie Murphy and proceeded to stop for another 20
minutes to lighten my load once more before sauntering over to
the start at 8:50 AM. Stood around for another 20 minutes before
the race started. Bumped into John King of Headford there.
That was a total of over 1:40 on my feet before the race had
begun, not that I was thinking like that at the time. Still
focusing on getting a good even start, nothing more, nothing
less. Certainly wasn't hungry, at that stage, or thirsty.
Passed the start line about 23 seconds after the flag was waved,
or the gun went off just after 9:10 AM. Got the nice clean start
wanted and was running very freely after less than half a mile.
Was passed by Frank Burke and Philip Magnier before the O'Connell
Bridge and then by Brendan and Jim at the top of O'Connell
Street. I was hoping to see them again before the finish, on my
terms not theirs :). Sigh...
Established a fairly decent pace, always remembering Peadar's
word in the back of my head. Pace Kills...Pace Kills. Even at
8:00+s I never felt comfortable and couldn't figure out why and
still can't, walking/standing/not eating aside.
Got to The Park and knew it was going to be a fairly long day.
Kept thinking positive thoughts.
Positive thoughts. Positive.
Got to the downhill before the 8M marker and was relatively
struggling, even though I pulled out a halting 7:37 there.
Passed my unknown neighbour from Turloughmore Hurling Club on the
hill outside 9M, not to see him again afterwards, I think. He
was already in trouble and we weren't even at 9M yet! I wasn't
feeling very much better than he was looking.
Not sure whether I ever realised that I'd no breakfast at any
stage in the race but the realisation that I'd been on my feet
for nearly two hours before the start did start sinking in and I
was thoroughly disgusted with myself for letting this situation
occur. I had failed to prepare properly and this was the result.
Soldiered on up past Kilmainham and the struggles continued. Got
to 10M in a little (too much under?) under my target time. For
every mile marker after that, I was looking for it after only 5
minutes running. Each mile reached after that was like another
base camp on the way up to Everest. I was wasting valuable
physical and mental cycles and was quickly running out of
"credits", if I was to get to halfways i.e. 20M with a bit left
in the tank.
The carnage had started by 13.1M, with bodies littered - like the
water bottles, plastic glasses and gel wrappers - all over the
sides of the road. It was like a switch had been turned on with
lads - almost always male! - holding up all sorts of pillars,
posts and walls already. This only made me feel slightly better.
All the time, people were slipping past me, right from the start
of the race. This is something I am learning to take in my
stride. Never go with anyone. Never! Right through the whole
race, I felt like I was standing in the middle of a fast-running
stream with water (people) slipping by (passing) me on both
sides, constantly. It became a torrent later...
Got to halfways (distance-wise!) in 1:47. Slightly faster than I
probably needed to but not deadly I felt, perhaps I should have
been more cautious given the relative difficulty I'd felt from so
early - but how slow would I have had to go to be "comfortable"
again? Again a lack of experience on my part, something I also
realised later in the race. Stay positive! Positive! I was
finding it difficult given the wrong turnings I'd already taken
that morning.
The course from 13M to 20M was totally unknown to me so every
turn brought something new, good and bad. No really serious
climbs that I can remember. There were still a lot of runners
all around me but nothing to impede me greatly other than some
woman who cut right in on top of me at some stage after 15M when
she had the whole road to herself to pass me without incident. I
should have told her to "Watch Where You're Going, Missus!" but
was trying to stay upbeat and let the moment drift off into
nothingness, where it deserved to go.
My pace had slackened off as I knew I was now low on credits; not
sure how quite low though. I was just hoping to hit some
long-run mini-jackpot after 18M where I would "win" some
imaginary points that might bootstrap me all the way home. What
a forlorn hope! Or was I already in some sort of twilight zone
simply by imagining this mini-jackpot :)?
Things started getting sticky once I passed 18M and came up
towards Milltown. I was getting and feeling noticeably slower.
I would check every mile split and then, again, five minutes into
the next mile to see how far I had to go to get to the next mile
split. Never a good idea, and one I don't like to practice in
shorter races, but I was getting desperate.
The big yellow mile markers were like oases in the desert. Once
I passed them, they disappeared and all I saw in front of myself
again was sand and more sand.
Got to 19M and was very frayed. Had come across two fellas I
knew just before the viaduct-type bridge and put on the glad-rags
face and high-5 hand slaps, but it was only for show.
I knew I had to get to 20M running as I had stopped at 19M in
Connemara last year and would have felt that I had completely
"failed" if I didn't get that far at a minimum. It also would
have meant that I'd be very close to going over four at my
estimated pace if I *didn't* get to 20M running!
It was imperative to get to 20M without walking and take each
mile by itself from there.
This I did but at an agonisingly slow 9:22. How could I do 20M
in Tuam at 8:00-8:10s and be still rearing to go at the end of it
and get to 20M in the race itself and be ready to be placed in a
coffin? I was furious with myself. Livid. All this effort and
another failed attempt at a half-decent time.
I walked!
I'd gotten to 20M in a little over 2:47. Not exactly outside my
initial target but my race was run - the scramble had begun.
It was during this first stroll in the increasingly bright sun
that Ray ambled up alongside me, touched me sparingly on the
shoulder, muttered something inaudible in my general direction
and moved off. I would paid dearly to be able to amble off with
him up the road towards 21M and the finish :).
I was able to jog much of the next two miles and probably clocked
10:30s. I didn't really bother with the watch once I stopped
running properly.
In my four marathons to date, I don't think I've ever really hit
the wall properly as I've always been walking once I get to
22-22.5M. Continued taking on water. I always kept moving
forward too. Very gratefully raided some of the sweets offered
by various kind people along the road. The support was
heartening, however I kept my head down the whole way when going
through crowds who were close to the runners themselves.
Each of the last four miles consisted of more walking than
running, with the part of the race from RTE into the finish like
going into an All-Ireland Hurling Final, such were the crowds
around me. I'd literally moved to the side of the road as I was
likely to get into a pile-up if I continued hogging the middle
ground.
Tony Fitzpatrick passed me around the RDS, having previously
passed him on the way out soon after Ballyfermot. He was to take
five minutes out of me and 400 places over the last 3M, such was
the scrum getting to the finish at this stage.
I was almost taken out of my misery by a poorly-marked speed bump
outside the main entrance of RTE just before. I smiled. What
else could I do? Cry?
And on I soldiered, alone.
Every small hill reduced me to a walk, once we got past
Ballsbridge. I could hear the finish in the distance but dared
not look at the watch at any stage as it ticked closer to four.
The last two miles was spent shuffling along. I got a great
piece of advice from someone in the crowd around then as I was
probably breathing very shallowly at the time. Deep breaths!
Deep breaths! I should have been doing the opposite and did get
some relief when I changed my breathing pattern. It didn't do
much for my ailing legs though.
Eventually reached Trinity and its environs and noted a fella in
front of me who was probably the only familiar singlet I'd seen
over the previous few miles. He was running for some charity
that was promoting clean water - WaterAid. I was able to get
ahead of him running but when I'd stop - one minute walk, one
minute run - he'd get ahead of me again. Crawled up the mountain
between the main entrance to Trinity and the bottom of Grafton
Street and could see the 26M marker up ahead. I was willing to
give it one last push to the summit there. The mind was willing
but the body wasn't.
I walked most of the way up Nassau Street and was only able to
get running again at the 26M marker itself. I managed to keep it
going to the end from there, with my left thigh seizing up
completely right on the line. Perhaps I'd paced the race
perfectly after all?
3:53 and some change. Not bad, but not good enough, for myself!
I limped off the finishing area and almost immediately saw Mick
waiting for me. I was in fairly rag shape at this stage. I
asked him if it was OK for me to have a little cry. He said no.
I didn't :}.
Got the DCM finisher's medal and singlet, declining to have my
photo taken by ASI for posterity. They got remarkably little of
me around the course, thankfully. I probably didn't look great
and certainly have felt better in the past. (Subsequent evidence
would indicate that I did indeed look poorly coming up around
Trinity and to the finishing line itself though there is no
actual pictorial evidence of me crossing the line.)
After about another 15 minutes walking, we reached the Mespil
Hotel, down along the canal to compare notes with some of the
others in the club, Brian O'Connor, Peter Delmer and the man
himself, Ray O'Connor. Mick had done 2:46, beating Brian home by
about 20 seconds. Alan had broken 3 alright, narrowly beaten by
Peter. Ray had skated home in 3:45.
Even at that stage, I had already resolved to give the distance
another day out, or ten, promising to repair the errors of the
day and other previous attempts.
I just know I've a date with a 3:30 at some future time, all
going well. A-l-l...
I'm only now fully realising just how much has to go right for
that day to come but I'm willing and able to take those lessons
on board and run with them.
The distance is humbling and the more I run it, the more humbled
I become by those who do it, those who beat me, those who finish
behind me.
I live to run another day...
P.S. Jim did a fabulous 3:23. Both Frank and Philip clocked
3:30s. Brendan did 3:31. John King did 3:37.
P.P.S. Yes, I beat WaterAid man home, burning him off with my
last .2M spurt. Step forward Gerry McEntagart! Top chap. He
even came up to me afterwards and shook my hand, something I had
wanted to do to him but just didn't see him in the milieu of the
finish area.
++
8:11
8:06
8:19
8:00
7:57
8:22
7:59
7:37
8:37
8:15
8:04
8:27
8:30
8:31
8:25
8:30
8:23
8:36
9:09
9:22
10:29
11:18
10:11
10:24
10:24
11:17
1:46
-------
3:53:09
Guy
Great read guy. Sorry it ddn't go as expected, but I have no doubt you'll crack that 3:30. God help us when you do.... :)
!
Glad to see that you can laugh about it all, James, that is a very funny and painstakingly real account.
Thank God it didn't rain......
I feel like l ran the race myself.......
never give up jim
Fair play James ,great report, I could feel your pain but I love your never say die atitude.I was delighted to hear wateraid man got his comupance at last.
Man gets tired - spirit don't
A great read James. You went through it all there alright but your spirit shines through this report.
Well done James, I am
Well done James, I am positive you will break 3.30 and I now know just how hard that is!!!!!!!!!!! I think we peaked in Tuam 2 weeks before the big day. We will have to wait until April in Connemara??????
You are still THE man
Brendan
Participation
Wish I was there James. Being able to do 4 marathons is better than breaking 3:30 in 1 marathon! Pity your pre-race preparations went wrong - must have been a factor.
The woolly
Great race report. "Come on Athenry" was all I could say as I passed. It was a hard race and the wind did not help.The woolly hat was a great advertisement for the Fields of Athenry race. How did you keep it on throughout the race???
Good Job James
Good Job James