https://www.strava.com/activities/11606281057
Bohermeen is located not too far from the town of Navan – if Navan is the metropolis of County Meath, Bohermeen is the hamlet. The drive to Bohermeen is non descript once you come off the motorway, surrounded by hedgerows and roads designed for one line of traffic but, inexplicably, allows two. Prior to the final right turn to where the race HQ and start line are located, I drove past a rather large, and rather dead, badger lying in the ditch off the side of the road. Hopefully the animals death was not a forewarning of things to come.
It had been windy all week in Dublin and the wind was the same in Bohermeen. I set off on my warm up to take in a recce of some of the course and see which way the wind was blowing. The course was a clockwise loop with the wind on our backs for the first mile, in our faces for the middle section and then on our backs again for the last 600 metres. The first kilometre was going to be fast as it was a slight decline before turning right and then a quick right again into a sharp incline, a sharp decline and a final sharp incline again for good measure. This was where I turned around on the warmup and was left hoping that the extent of the hills were done. I jogged back to base, put on my shoes and headed to the start line.
Start line psychology is amazing. You’ve all sorts of characters doing all sorts of things and you will always have the mainstay of people striding toward each other at full pelt. How collisions don’t happen I’ll never know. I did 6 strides of 15 seconds each and then headed to the start line feeling ready. I was getting myself in the zone before the gun was to go when, go tobann, the gun went.
1st KM – 3:11
The race went out like a light and my GPS wasn’t working. I had a look at the watch after 30 seconds and the pace was reading 3:30. This was definitely incorrect and I made the decision then to fuck the watch and find a group. In between making this decision, I was under pressure with someone on my heels trying to pass me out. Not needing this stress, and the person clearly trying to get past, I eased to the left and signalled them to move ahead. The person moving ahead was a girl no older than 14 who was already gassing out. I can’t believe I used any physical or mental energy letting her pass. I won’t make that mistake again.
After passing the child 15 seconds later, I settled into the first kilometre, which was a dream. The road slightly declined, the wind was on our back and the sun setting behind our necks – it was perfect. I found a group, we were 6 lads and all well bunched by the time we took the right turn, about 200 metres before the first kilometre split. The marker on the ground said one kilometre but my watch hadn’t beeped yet. I looked down and it said I had another 100 metres to go so take all the splits in this race with the required health warning.
2nd KM – 3:09
The pace felt ok and the legs were turning over nicely. Just as we began to crest the first of the short climbs, I started to get an almighty cramp in my stomach and the urge to go for a poo hit me hard. I didn’t drink any coffee before the race (due to it starting at 19:30) and therefore didn’t empty the bowels in the manner that I have become accustomed to pre race. I’ve never had to stop for a poo in a race before and today was not going to be the day. I made every effort to stick with the group and found myself tucked in behind two lads who were leading and then I had three more drafting off the back of me. I refused to look at the watch again and was solely focused on sticking to the pack. This had danger as I didn’t know who I was running with and what their time goals were. Frequent readers of this blog will note my issues with calculating what pace I am going at without using a watch so my mind, in the race, was concerned about burning too many candles too quickly. I am quite cautious by nature so this reckless abandon in a race is a departure from the normal strategy but I was loving it. And loving the pain. The two lads were taking a bit of the wind for me but I could still feel that I was fighting it. The road showed the second kilometre marker but the watch didn’t beep; when it did, it was 3:09.
3rd KM – 3:16
No mans land. Not really, as I was still very much in the group, but during the third kilometre you are literally nowhere. The wind was howling pretty good and the effort was high but I wasn’t in the danger zone yet. I could feel that I was pushing right up against the line but not yet teetering over it. The road was really straight, and pretty boring, so I was anxiously waiting for when we would take a right turn (knowing that there were two turns left). Eventually up ahead I could see stewards with flags ushering us to take a right and it ended up being a pretty hard right that had a slight decline just after it. I took the corner quite tight but came out of it laboured, almost like I had checked my stride. I think changing the direction had an impact on my form and, even though it was momentary, I started to feel some hurt. The pain wasn’t centred in one particular spot. It was more the all encompassing, “you’re goosed” sort of pain that you don’t want to encounter. This time the watch did (somehow) beep with the KM marker – 3:15.
4th KM – 3:13
The last kilometre was slow. It didn’t feel like it was a 3:15 but the wind must have swallowed some of the effort and not returned any time for it. I was heading into the ‘holding on for dear life stage’. The 3:15 scared me so I was trying to do some quick arithmetic to calculate the splits I needed but the pain was becoming acute and the splits couldn’t be trusted so, again, it was just stay with the pack. And stay with the pack I did. The 6 of us had now become 5 with the Raheny athlete dropping off a bit but the remainder were still going strong. I was willing the kilometres to pass by quicker as I knew I was in the danger zone of falling short of the time goal. I had driven on this road on the way to the start line but I couldn’t remember where I was or how far it was to the final right hand turn, which is the sign for home. As I was starting to become despondent, I caught sight of a dead badger in a ditch. I was nearly home! The dead badger actually gave me hope that I could rally and close hard. I was momentarily brought back down to earth with a split of 3:13.
5th KM – 3:11
Anybody can run a kilometre, right? I passed by the 4th kilometre marker on the road and the watch read 12:50. The maths now was simple – close in a 3:09 or better and I’ll be under 16. The wind was still in our faces so the group didn’t start to speed up immediately but, as we took the last right hand turn, which was almost a hairpin that sent us back on ourselves, I turned on the boosters. I knew the corner was tight from the drive down so I took it deliberately wide so as to not slow down. I kept motoring on down the road where I spotted Darren Murphy who shouted very salient advice my way – “600 metres to go and LOOK OUT FOR THE HARD LEFT!”, shouted Darren. I had forgotten about the left hand turn but he was right and it was sharp. I was tucked in on the left hand side of the road so I moved out to the centre of the road to try mitigate some of the turn. I had also forgotten the turn was up a curb and onto grass – it was pretty treacherous now I think back on it. I hadn’t checked my watch since the last split, relying totally on effort, so I got a bit of a shock when I seen the gantry reading 15:48 as I entered the kick for home. I knew sub 16 was in my grasp so I started pumping the arms, Feidhlim Kelly style, and ran as fast as I could staring at the time. As I crossed, it was 15:59 but the watch read 15:58 and, mercifully, the net time was 15:58 also. I was stoked. 12th place. PB. Job done.
Buckets of Rain 