https://www.strava.com/activities/12168689984
July 29th – August 4th
Sun: 105 min (steady from 50 min-80 min). Complete. Steady pace around 3:50. 25km.
Mon: 40 min easy + 5 x 15 sec strides + 5 min. Complete. 10.01km.
Tue: 15 min WU, 5 x 400 @ 90 (30/90) 6-7 x 1k @ 3:35 (60), 15 min CD. Complete. 78, 79, 79, 79, 78. 3:25, 3:28, 3:26, 3:28, 3:25, 3:30 and 3:28. 16.52km.
Wed: 60 min easy. Complete. 13.km.
Thur: 75 min (steady from 30-60 min). Complete. 1 hour. Cooked after.
Fri: off
Sat: 15 min WU, 15km (2k @ 7:30, 1k @ 4:05), 15 min CD. Complete on Sunday. Died hard. Food poisoning.
August 5th – August 11th
Sun: easy 30 min. Complete on Saturday. Inis Mor.
Mon: 40 min easy + 5 x 15 sec strides + 5 min. Off. Sick.
Tue: 15 min WU, 5 x 400 @ 90 (30/90) 6-7 x 1k @ 3:30 (60), 15 min CD. Complete on track on Friday. First session since food poisoning. 84, 83, 80, 80, 80. 3:30, 3:27, 3:30, 3:30, 3:30, 3:27. 15.34km.
Wed: 60 min easy. 47 mins. 10.34km
Thur: 80 min easy. 67 mins. 14.47km.
Fri: off
Sat: 1 hour 50 min (steady 60-100 min). Complete. Moate on Sunday. Steady section 3:53 average. 26.31km.
August 12th – August 18th
Sun: easy 30. Complete. Saturday. 6.44km.
Mon: 40 min easy + 5 x 15 sec strides + 5 min. Complete. 10.30km.
Tue: 15 min WU, 5 x 400 @ 90 (30/90) 6-7 x 1k @ 3:30 (60), 15 min CD. Complete. 80, 80, 81, 80, 78.
3:27, 3:29, 3:27, 3:27, 3:25 and 3:28. 15.38km total.
Wed: 60 min easy. Complete. 12.69km.
Thur: 15 min WU, 3 x 6 min @ sub T (60), 15 min CD. Complete. Paces 3:45ish. 11.58km total.
Fri: off
Sat: Frank Duffy 10 mile. Shite. 58:54.
For some reason, I thought it had only been two weeks since I last blogged here, but it’s actually been three. When I look back on the training over those three weeks, things went smooth and good and rough and bad, at different parts. The smooth and good were the majority, with one outlier of a steady run on a Thursday that left me pretty cooked after. The rough and bad was a result of a dodgy seafood chowder that I ate on Inis Mór that left me with food poisoning – less than ideal. This manifested itself on August 4th when I was doing 5 x (2k on, 1k off). I felt sluggish heading out the door but I attributed that to the the two boat rides in the previous 36 hours and a couple of sneaky pints on the Friday night. Midway through, however, I knew something more sinister was going on. I managed to finish out the session but (largely) ditched the cool down and headed for home. Once there, the next 72 hours played out as you would imagine it does with food poisoning. Come the Wednesday morning, I was en route to feeling normal again and was able to get back into training. I was worried that the food poisoning would impact my performance in this race but I was able to train relatively normal in the 10 days up to it and was even feeling good most of this week, before the race. I did 3 x 6 minutes at sub threshold to prime for the race and felt A1. All changed Saturday morning, though.
Warm up
I arrived at the triangle and found myself a solid parking spot, 1 kilometre jog to the start line. I was there in plenty of time so I put on some music and chilled out. When it was time, I started out for my warm up jog and took a route past the start line so I could use the portaloos. One of my main worries before a race is getting to use the toilet and once this is boxed off, I start to feel a bit more settled. I dispelled of all the badness in me and continued on my jog. The morning was warm, but not warm enough to necessitate the level of sweat that was coming out of me at such a sedentary pace. A telling omen. I returned to the car, put on my singlet and race shoes, and headed back towards the start line. Nerves kicked in and a toilet stop was needed again, only this time the queue for the portaloos was crazy. There was no time. I surveyed the scene and noted there was nobody at the back wall to the US ambassador’s residence and I know there is a big ditch that hides you from view. I made a beeline for the ditch, climbed down and squeezed the nerves out once again. I ascended out from the ditch to spot a tall, bearded man to my left coming from a similar spot – Hugh Armstrong had also found himself in the US ambassador’s ditch pre race. We exchanged pleasantries and off we went. I like to think my wishing him luck stood to him as he cruised to victory.
5K: 17:51
The start to this race is a dream. Beginning on Chesterfield Avenue, you run to the Castleknock Roundabout, turn left and it is basically a very generous opening 5K. I knew I was not going to PB today, I figured that earlier in the week, so my only goals were to enjoy and to race well. My watch beeped for 3:27 for the first kilometre and I could already feel that I was working. Knowing the course as I do, I figured it best to just find a group and roll with them and see how things go. I settled into a group of 6 and we were basically together until the 5K mark. During the third kilometre, a man who was in the group, but behind me to this point, came up on my shoulder and asked me “Are you Ciarán Hughes and do you train with Seán?” The man, who’s name he told me was Aidan Flannery, was wearing a Clonmel singlet, knows Seán and is coached by David Mansfield. We exchanged some other pleasantries and then locked back into the race. On reflection, this was the last positive experience of the race, which is a sad story considering I was about 20% the way through it. Before I knew it though, we were going through the S Bends and the watched pinged for 17:51 for the first 5K.
5K – 10K: 18:29 (36:20)
The wheels began to come off. The group I was in were slowly, but surely, moving away from me and we were headed towards the Wellington Road hill, the worst of the hills in this course. I had planned to not look at the watch for as much of this race as possible, and to run on effort, but now I decided to not look at the watch for fear of how slow it would say I’m going because the effort was so high. My legs didn’t feel too bad at all but there was a feeling of overall fatigue that I just couldn’t shake. I was on the way to redlining and had no more kick to give, even if I had to. The group had now put about 40 metres on me just before the hill started so my goal now was to just keep them in sight. Mercifully, everyone slowed on the hill so I consciously didn’t try make it back to them, for fear of pushing over the line, but was happy that the gap wasn’t growing and I was moving up the hill. Once we crested the hill, we swung left onto the footpath on Chesterfield Avenue and the wind was pretty ferocious in our faces. I was still isolated from the group so was very much feeling sorry for myself in no mans land. Taking me away from the immediate pain was thinking about the conditions on the Acres, once we made it that far. This mile going up Chesterfield Avenue was the last climb of any note in the race, so putting it behind me should have been cause for celebration, but the imminent doom of the Acres weighed on my mind, knowing that the wind was going to knock the shite out of me. Looking back, I need to be able to focus more on being in the moment and not spend time thinking of the future dread (although I was 100% right in this case). The left hand turn to the Acres came and there was a good bit of support here that gave me a minor lift. There is a slight decline down to the Acres so I tried to move the legs here and make up some ground on the group ahead. A lad in a DEP singlet, who had been drafting off me for the previous couple of kilometres and who had announced to anybody who would listen at the start line that he was only mid way through his long run, made the decision to drop me and leave me completely alone. At this point, 10K clicked on the watch at 36:20.
11K – 16.10K: 22:31 (58:57)
The worst of the course was over. Had I of been feeling good, this would have been the time to push on and make up some ground. Unfortunately, it was everybody around me who was able to do this and not me. I reckon 6 – 8 people move passed me in the last 6K, with me only overtaking one of those in the last mile. In terms of positives, I stopped going backwards and was able to just hold steady, even if it was on the slower side. The pain and effort was constant but steady. I had been in the death march for so long that I greeted this part as if it were an old friend. I briefly toyed with the thought of just pulling up and being done with this as I was getting blown around the Acres but as the race was progressing towards the finish, I brought myself back to the present and was happy that I didn’t do something that would be wholly unsensible. The last 5K take you to the Castleknock gate where you loop back on yourself and head towards the Furze Road finish, via the Ordinance Survey road. As I was going back down Chesterfield Avenue, a man with annoying sunglasses and hairy shoulders cruised past me. As noted above, he was not the first person to pass me out but he was the most noticeable for his singlet that had “HEY HO LETS GO” written on the back. I consider myself a Ramones fan, a big one at that, but I detest that lyric and the brilliance of Blitzkrieg Bob being reduced to that lyric alone. I resigned to taking my position back. We turned right on to the Ordinance Survey road and I kept him within ten metres of me. We were moving towards the final turn onto the Furze Road, which is a hairpin left back the way you came, and the pseudo Ramones fan was keeping the inside line. What was he doing, I thought? He’ll basically have to stop to take this turn. I spotted my opportunity. I was all revved up and ready to go. I veered right and wide before the turn and took the hairpin long, but gradual, and didn’t have to slow down. I could no longer see “HEY HO LETS GO” staring back at me and he was nothing but a distant memory. The Furze Road is a long straight finish and I just pressed on for home. I had nothing in me to kick so just ran, and ran, and ran some more until I crossed the finish line. My chip time said 59:01 but I think I was under 59 minutes, barely, but I wouldn’t take any notice of someone else arguing over chip times being wrong so I won’t say anymore on that. Ratoath Half is 4 weeks out, Dublin Marathon is 6 weeks after that. The fun beckons.
Buckets of Rain 