New Year

It's been a while.................. my longest absence since inception. I've sat down to put pen to paper a number of times, wrote a few lines and then abandoned it. On the plus side my running has fared a bit better although there were a few months where I was just going through the motions - not enough motivation to spur me on to new challenges and not enough apathy to fall off the wagon completely.

 

 

My weekly mileage after the Belfast 12 hour in July was a bit hit and miss and lacked focus. That is despite the fact that my recovery after the race was the best it has even been so it wasn't physical. I had a half notion of ramping up for the Dublin Marathon at the end of October, but when I missed a few track sessions to get me up to speed before starting a 12 week marathon programme I mentally  relaxed and let the whole idea slide. I was keen to run the inaugural Glen of Aherlow 39.3 mile ultra on 20th September, signed up for it late and managed to get around the course without too much difficulty, although I did fall once or twice on a technical section of the course and finished in about 6:26, well down on where I would have liked to be but no more than I expected based on my lack of training and a generous diet - fighting gravity is so much harder when you're carrying excess baggage. 

 

The low point in my training cycle came when I pulled up with a strained hammy 9.5km into pacing the 30km Human Race in Limerick on 5th October. The day before I had fallen heavy after tripping on a uneven footpath while our for an easy run, tearing 2 layers of skin from the palm of my left hand (i'll spare you the gory photo). The strained hammy the following day may well have been a latent injury from the fall. My training over the following weeks primarily consisted of walking, reaching a new low of  6 miles for the second week of October - the only way was up.

 

 

As the hammy began to heal I decided to spend the rest of the year building up a solid base of aerobic endurance so that I could start 2015 in good shape. Over the next 8 weeks I covered 718 miles (average of 89.75 miles per week) setting my first 400+ mile (405) month in November. The most noticeable benefit was a reduction in the pace of my easy training runs, reducing from 8:45 to below 8:00 pace for a 120 Hr. I assessed my aerobic function by conducting a MAF Test on 2nd December, with a noticeable improvement compared to my only other MAF test for the year on 7th January. Some of that improved function was due to weight loss as I managed to cut most carbs out of my diet. Still the 578 heartbeats per Km is very encouraging (once I get below 600 I know I am in good territory). Although my weight starting out in 2015 is closer to what it was at the start of 2014 - that's the magic of December!

 

 

 

 

My only other race was the Clonakilty Marathon on 12th December, which I ran as an aerobic training run, starting off at a relatively comfortable pace, falling in with fellow Clon man Thomas Neville, with the initial target of pacing him to a 3:20 PB. However my competitive instinct got the better of me and after about 14 miles I  took off on my own to see if I could break 3:15. (we had hit halfway in 1:41 = 3:22 full). With 3:06 on the Garmin passing the 25 mile mark, I increased the effort, plunging well into the anaerobic zone to pull off my fastest mile of the day (6:16 - albeit on a net downhill) to get me across the line a few seconds under 3:14. Happy days! My endurance base ensured that I felt reasonably comfortable crossing the finish line, no longer daunted by the 26.2 mile distance.

 

 

Of course the main motivation for putting in the miles over the last few months was to cover 49 miles on Christmas Eve without suffering too much. As for last year I started a 4 in the morning and more or less ran continuously until I was back home with 49.25 miles on the Garmin - 7 hours and 17 minutes later. I ran all but 10 miles (Mile 15 to 25) in the company of Clubmates from Eagle AC - A big thanks to those who looked after me as it may not have looked liked I needed any help but the knowledge that I was not alone was all the motivation I needed to keep going. While I felt the fatigue coming on after 10 miles, it never got any worse and I more or less kept a consistent running pace for the full duration.

Mile 49 - Time for Some Breakfast
 

 

The Year That Was

Plenty of Miles



Not Too Many Marathons/Ultras (*Pacing)

One Win

2015 Targets

 

I have already signed up for my first marathon in 2015 although it's not until September. This marathon is somewhat unique though as i'll have to swim 2.4 miles and cycle 112miles just to get to the start line. Should be interesting - don't know how i'll fit in all the training. I'll have to find something else to keep me motivated for the first half of the year. With this in mind I have nearly committed to my second race in 2015 - another marathon on 14th March in Barcelona. I have booked the flights but haven't signed up for the race yet. This will be my third trip to Barcelona, the last time out in 2010 I struggled home in 3:10:28, after pulling up with a dodgy calf at mile 9. There are a few clubmates running it too so it should be fun. My training will start in earnest next week or the week after where I will be following the 10 week programme I used for Portumna last year. I had hoped to race the Dungarvan 10 during the first week of February as it fitted in perfectly with my schedule (HM race 6 weeks out). However the race sold out in less than two days, which I was not aware of until two weeks later - there were no such issues last year - West Waterford AC sent out email notification. I'll just have to find another longish race up the country.

After that I am spoilt for choice on the ultra front:-

 

 

• 21st March - Wicklow Way Ultra (51km) - unlikely as it will be one week after Barcelona
• 3rd/4th April - Vartry 100 (100 mile/50 mile/50k) - the 100 looks tempting, it all depends on how the recovery from Barcelona goes.
• 13th June - Wicklow Way Solo. Would like to make up for 2014.
• 13th June - Portumna Ultra (100k/50k/marathon) - not on the radar for 2015.
• 17th/18th July - Energia 12hr/24hr. The 24hr is certainly tempting - although only 5 weeks after Wicklow is cutting it fine - maybe the 100k in Portumna would be better preparation.

My general plan is to build up endurance on the bike in preparation for the Ironman, which should stand to me for the long ultras. Time will tell.

Happy New Year to all and hope to see some of you out on the road in 2015.

Pushing Boundaries

I got thinking about the shoes I run in during this evenings run. For over a year now I have been running in Asics Gel Tarthers, not the same pair - I am now on my fourth pair, although still rotating through all the old ones. They are difficult to source as they are primarily produced for the Japanese market. My initial attraction to them was their relative light weight - this is what the sales blurb says:

 

"This is the first unchanged Japanese racing flat to be introduced to Europe. Designed for increased durability, provide superb grip and responsiveness, this features an improved version of the renowned Duosole outsole, offering maximum traction and flexibility without the extra weight of other outsoles"

 

 Because of their grip I tend to make a distinctive slapping sound when my mid-foot strike hits the ground, giving the impression that I am landing very hard. Everyone that knows me can hear me coming a mile off - not the best when you are trying to creep up on someone in a race. Apart from that they have served me very well and despite their "racing flat" title I have pushed the boundary with them a little bit and they have not let me down.

 

That's what got me thinking about them in the first place as it is time to retire my first pair, which are beginning to put a bit of strain on my calves when I run in them. While I don't know how many miles they have on the clock I know it's at least 100 as it was this time last year that I ran in them in what remains the longest distance I have ever run in a single event - the Connemara 100. While common sense would have suggested that 5k/10k racing shoes were not at all suitable for running 100 miles, I ignored it as the shoes never caused me any difficulty in long runs up to marathon distance and if I was to always heed what common sense suggested (which my Missus has a lot of ;-) I would never have signed up for the race in the first place.

 

This is what attracted me to ultra running in the first place - pushing the boundaries of what is considered possible or normal. When I started running I though the marathon was the ultimate limit, beyond the boundary of what was physically possible - after all we were told that we had to go through (or more likely hit) "the wall" before we got to the finish line and sure enough I hit the wall on my very first marathon, said "never again" for about a week and came back for some more punishment six months later. I had never heard of ultra running, I though I had reached the boundary of human endeavour and spent the next few years pushing at the only running boundary I knew  - the PB.

 

When I eventually did push the distance boundary (Connemara 39.3 in April 2010) I thought that was it, I could never even contemplate running another mile, let alone the 11 that would take me up to 50 miles. I had read race reports of guys running 100 miles and how they were destroyed after them and though that was way out of my league - funny how when we break boundaries we end up setting new ones. I remember when Thomas suggested the day after Connemara 100 last year that I should go for the Belfast 24 hour this year, thinking

 

"yeah but that's nearly another 8 hours longer than I had run in Connemara and I was pretty beat up by the end of that"

 

BTW that boundary has been reset and was not the reason why I did not go for the Belfast 24 hour this year. My new boundary is

 

"how can guys (and gals) run multi-day events. I mean my legs were trashed the day after Connemara. I could hardly walk let alone run - that's way out of my league"

 

I'm not saying that I will ever push through these boundaries but I know that it would be better if they were not there to begin with,  taking me back to a time when I was 7 or 8 and knew noting of boundaries but only of the limitless possibilities that were out there. What a wonderful world that was.

 

Here's to removing all boundaries..................................

 

and the best of luck to all those running Connemara tomorrow, Wish I was there.

 

 

My Imelda Marcos Moment

In the Grove

I'm sitting on a canvas chair in the porch of a 4-man tent, pitched on the grass in-field of the Mary Peters Track in south Belfast at 6:30 on a beautiful sunny Friday evening. In fifteen minutes time I will be starting a race that will take 12 hours to complete and it suddenly dawns on me that in my haste to get everything together over the last few days I forgot to draft a race plan of any description. What pace will I go out at, how long will I be able to maintain it, when should I ease back, when will I have no choice but to ease back, should I walk at all, when will I eat/drink (at least I had sorted the what). I pull out the pen that came with the race goody bag and start scribbling a few splits/paces on the number pinned to my shorts  and get frustrated when the pen slides over the glossy surface without leaving a make - "fuck it", I put the pen away and lie back enjoying the last few minutes of the evening sun, "I have plenty of time to sort it after the race starts. Sure what else will I be doing for the next 12 hours". For the first time since arriving shortly after four with Ani, Saran, their cousin Robert and his Dad Rob (the driver) my mind is calm. Everything is done - time to switch off the mental and turn on the physical.

 

The gang, who have all gone off for something to eat, are only there for the craic (with some mild arm twisting from me - this is the first day of a short camping trip) as opposed to providing physical support to me. I don't really need it and it's not mandatory for the 12 hour race. My nutrition (chocolate/banana milk, a few salty spuds, carb drink, salt caps, nuts/figs/dark chocolate, soup, coffee & tea brack) is laid out in a plastic container on a table in lane 5 (the 12 hour and 24 hr relay runners are confined to lanes 3 & 4 , with the solo 24 hr runners in lanes 1 & 2). There is a timing mat at the end of the home straight with a large screen that will display your name and lap number every time you cross the mat (this proves invaluable)

We are called to the start line by race director Ed Smith and without much fanfare we are sent on our way - just shy of 50 doing the 24 hour, 4 relay teams and 10 or 11 doing the 12 hour. I had heard that one guy had taken the option of starting the 12 hour at 6:45 a.m. on the Saturday morning and finishing with the 24 hour group. I had briefly considered this option but thought that the benefit of a relatively cooler nigh-time temperature would just about offset the effect of running through the night. After all I had run through the Wicklow mountains during the night without any noticeable ill effects.

 

My early pace is pedestrian relative to the front runners of the 24 hour race and Ger Copeland running the 12 hour, who laps me after 2 laps - I had heard before the start that he was aiming for the 90 mile mark, which would be well beyond my capability and I was certainly not going to test myself by keeping pace with him, my strategy being to run at a comfortable aerobic pace for as long as my legs would comply. However the fastest guy on the track by far is Paul Martelletti, who is over from London to race 100k in order to qualify for the world championship (qualifying time is 7:18 for the GB Team)




Early Days

After 9 or 10 laps I get into my stride and start reeling in some of the 24 hour runners including Thomas. My plan was to use him as a general guide  to my target as he was targeting the International B Standard of 220km, which more than likely meant somewhere around 120 to 125 km for the first 12 hours. With my glasses left in the food container I have to squint to see the lap numbers on the  screen adjacent to the timing mat, not that it was necessary to see my progress so early in the race.

The laps continue with Ger Copeland putting in a great performance and lapping me quite frequently. After 2 hours the 24 hour relay runners change over and Ray Lanigan, running for team Donadea AC, greets me as he passes by. As I had eaten quite well over the 48 hours leading into the race (subconscious fuelling) I only took on water (and a Salt Cap) every 20 or 30 minutes deciding to refrain from taking on any calories until I have completed my first marathon (102 laps = 42.3 km), which I do in 3:35. A lap later I take on about half a bottle of banana milk as I walk a lap for the first time in the race. I have no problem resuming running and decide to break the rest of the race into 2 more marathons, deciding to take another walking break half way into my second marathon (153 laps) and more frequently thereafter.

Four hours into the race we are instructed to change direction after we cross the timing mat, Ray Lanigan wishes me luck as he finishes his first of 3 x 2 hour relay runs, saying that he will be back in 6 hours, which will coincide with the last 2 hours of my race. With Ger Copeland way out in front I think I am in second place, having lapped last years winner, Aidan Blake, a few times. With two thirds of the race remaining it is very early days and I try not to think about having to run for another 8 hours.

Shortly after 11 the organisers turn off the music that is playing out over the loudspeakers around the track and all I can hear is the beep....beep...beep as runners cross the timing mats at the start/finish area. The music had been a bit of a welcome distraction and I don't look forward to listening to my footfalls and the constant beeping of the timing mats for the next 6 to 8 hours so I ask Ani, who is practising her long jump with Saran and Robert along the back straight  (another distraction) for a loan of her Ipod shuffle - a few laps later she hands it to me already playing (so no fiddling required) and while her music choice might be different than mine it proves to be a life saver over the next couple of hours as an antidote to running in the early morning darkness - not too dissimilar to nightclubbing, but with less effort.

After 153 laps (marathon and a half) I walk a lap  for the second time and take on some of my EFS carb drink. The last half marathon has taken me about 2 hours, which disappoints me as I had been expecting to run the second marathon in under 4 hours. In order to mentally break down the next marathon and a half into manageable chunks (little rewards) I decide to refuel after every 5k (12 laps approx) alternating between water/S-Cap and chocolate/banana milk or carb drink. I decide that I do not need to take on any solid food at all. I rely on Ray Lanigan, who was double jobbing as race support between his relay stints, to replenish my water bottles from the stock on the race organisers table in the in-field.

I have covered between 166 and 167 laps after six hours which I equate to being about on target for the 306 laps required for a 3 marathon finish or 310, which I equate to an 80 mile finish. I notice that Ger is lapping me less often now and when he does I follow him to the timing mat to check how far ahead he is - 22 laps!!! (my 168 to his 190), that's over five and a half miles - He never moves too far ahead and after a lap or two I pass him out and while I am approaching a scheduled walking refuelling break I decide to run on for a few laps as I do not want to show any sign of weakness. When I do stop and walk for a lap I notice that Ger does not pass and when I ask Frank McDermot a few laps later where Ger is he tells me that he has pulled out  of the race due to injury - and there I was thinking that he had blown up after going out too fast. Ger's misfortune had suddenly catapulted me into the lead and I began to get all emotional - don't know where it came from but unexpected highs and lows are part and parcel of ultra running.

Just before the 7 hour mark Paul Martelletti, who has been churning out fast laps (passing his first marathon in 2:54), weaving in and out between the 24 hour runners, finishes his 100k (6:57 and change) easily meeting the qualifying standard. At 7:27 I have completed 204 laps, finishing my second marathon in 3:52, which gives me a relatively comfortable 4:30 to complete my last marathon. I deserve a break for doing so well but defer my walking break for a few laps, all the time making mental bargains with myself to keep me motivated - it's so tempting to ease back and take a break for no apparent reason other than you deserve it for working so hard.

I am woken out of my ultra trance when Aidan Blake passes me for the first time in the race shortly before the 8 hour mark. This shakes me up a little and although I am 12 laps ahead (3 miles), that is no cushion as all he has to do is lap me 3 time an hour to win the race and obviously he is getting stronger as the race progresses. Time to dig a little deeper. I decide to track Aidan for a few laps as we change direction for the last time and while I had scheduled a lap walking break I found no difficulty in maintaining a run. I was pleasantly surprised that I was still able to comfortably maintain a high aerobic heart rate (actually well into the 140's at times) after 8 hours of running and close to 90 km in my legs. Historically in ultras I found that after 60 or 70 km my heart rate reduced as I am unable to recruit enough muscles in my legs to maintain pace.

My next target is a sub-9 hour 100k (PB is 9:16), which I think I will achieve easily but I don't cover the necessary 242 laps (100.35km) until 8:58. Just over 3 hours to go - can I maintain 10km/hr for a 130km finish. I leave the track for the only time during the race shortly after the 9 hour mark to go for a pee. For the last few hours I had been maintaining a delicate balance between water intake and loss through sweating to avoid having to take a whizz. My next reward is a cup of coffee and tea brack, which I defer for as long as possible - i'm good with delayed gratification - ultra running is all about making bargains with yourself. As I am walking around the track with cup in hand in the early morning dawn, Aidan passes me, so I push the remaining brack into my mouth and track him around to the start/finish mat to check my lead, having to detour close to the TV screen to make sure of the lap numbers - still 12 laps clear - I can afford to pour myself a second cup of coffee. When I resume running he is half a lap ahead and I maintain the gap for a few laps and he gradually comes back to me over the next 30 minutes - our paces are very similar. I do not relax though as he does not appear to be taking any breaks.



Last Hour - Glasses on to check the scores on the doors

With 70 minutes to go the shuffle packs up, having served me well for the last 5 or 6 hours. Once I hit the 290 lap mark I start counting down the last 20 laps to my 310 target, getting encouragement from Don Hannon (winner of the Wicklow Way Race), who had to pull out of the 24 hour due to an on-going metatarsal injury. I retrieve my glasses from the nutrition box to keep an eye on the lap numbers, covering 306 laps in 11:37, giving me my third marathon in 4:10 - only 4 laps to go to my 310 lap target. With 15 minute to go I take Don up on his offer of a red bull, which goes down well as it has come straight from a cooler but I can't tell if it gives me a kick or not. I pass the 310 lap target with over 10 minutes to go and plough on as I reckon I need to cover 313.5 laps to get over the 130k mark. As the last few minutes tick away one of the 12 hour guys goes flying past me trying to eek out a few more metres before the finish, I pass the mat for the final time covering 315 laps, pick up the flask of minestrone soup from my food stash and walk for the last few seconds before we are asked to stop, knowing that i'll have to wait until Ed measures the part lap I have completed and using the time to take on some sustenance, chatting away to the 24 hour guys passing, getting congratulations from Thomas. Mark Melia and John O'Regan as they pass, with Anto Lee stopping to join me for a cup of soup. I also get a "well done" from Barry Thornton as he goes flying by on the start of his 12 hour journey, the only person separating me from the winners trophy  - he's looking very strong and has me worried. Surely I looked that strong during my first lap - lets see what he is like in 8 hours time. Ed measure my part lap as 134 m, which gives me an overall distance of 130.76 Km (81.25 miles)

I return to the tent, elevate my legs for 20 minutes, which works wonders, take a shower and lie down for a hour or so while Rob takes the kids away for breakfast. I spend the rest of the morning hanging around with the kids, keeping on my feet and occasionally checking to see how Barry is doing - he covers his first marathon (102 laps) in 3:28, 7 minute ahead of me - still early days.

We head off in the afternoon to visit the Titanic Quarter and get something to eat, returning to the track around 4, still too close to call, I reckon I have a virtual lead of 2 or 3 laps but Barry is running well and if he maintain his pace could beat me by about 2 or 3 laps. We busy ourselves packing away the tent and retreat to the stands for a while as a light rain falls. I am too nervous to relax, I return to the track side to offer encouragement to the 24 hour runners, who must be going through the world of pain, with quite a few passing the 100 mile mark. With about an hour and a half left, Barry stops and walks and does not resume running but continues to walk for the remainder of the race. This is surprising as he had been running quite strongly and consistently up until then,although I am inwardly relieved as my win and £100 meet record bonus is secure.

I am at the trackside to witness Thomas achieve his 220km International B Standard shortly after 23 hours. He looks absolutely shattered but breaks into a smile as he crosses the line and continues on to finish in 4th place overall, behind Irish Internationals John O'Regan and Eddie Gallen, who finish joint second having run the last 10 or 20 laps together, behind the winner Jan Uzik, another Cork man, originally from Slovakia.

Looking back, running for 12 hours around a track was not as tough or monotonous as I had expected it to be and of all my long ultras (100k and up) it felt the least difficult and to-date (1 week later) my recovery has been the quickest it has ever been (not a sign of the customary gout) - maybe i'm getting used to them or maybe, for the first time, I did not enter the longest race on offer - is it time to step up to the 24 hour challenge?

 



12 hours of running and 12 hours of waiting

In pursuit of the little yellow man

 

 

"Don't worry, there's 29 running it altogether, so I won't be alone"

"That's what worries me, there's only 29 people in the whole country who think this is normal"

It is 10 to midnight on Friday night and I am standing in the car park of Marley Park next to the board denoting the start/end of the Wicklow Way, talking to my wife on the phone, which is enclosed in a zip-lock bag to protect if for the rain that has been steadily falling for the evening. I had just been dropped off by Rob, my brother in law, who said on arrival

 

 "You have 20 minutes to change your mind - i'll even drive you to Clonegal tomorrow to pick up your car".

I had resisted the temptation to accept and am now standing with 28 other seasoned nutters, race organisers and assorted support crews.

 

After registering and handing over my drop bags I take respite in Mark Melia's car chatting away the time before the start with Mark and my cousin Liam, while their support crew, Mark's brother Frank and friend Rob stood out in the rain. The car is packed to the gills with every conceivable thing they could need, all packed away in bags and ice coolers. I had to be more selective in what I included in my drop bags, which I based on what worked for me in Connemara - almonds/pecans/dried figs & dark chocolate (85%) for snacking, salty spuds/cold chicken noodle soup (in plastic bottles, very appetising looking) and Banana/Chocolate milk for the middle half of the race, while leaving the sugary carb laden foods until closer to the end - tea brack/coke - the dried figs were a new addition. I also had my EFS Carb drink that I used in Connemara, which I had in powder form for collection and reconstitution at each drop location. This nutrition plan worked quite well, with the exception of the EFS carb drink, which I found difficult to stomach (I only used 2 of the 5 portions) - so the least carb laden nutrition I have used in any endurance race.

 

Leg 1 Marley Park to Crone Wood (0 - 22 km, Cut-off 0300hrs)

 

Following a race briefing by Jeff Fitzsimons, Race Director, on the stroke of midnight we are sent on our way through the winding footpaths of Marley Park, under the M50 and up the first of many hills towards Kilmashogue Forrest, falling in step with Liam, Mark and a few others towards the back of the field. The higher we get the poorer the visibility as the beams from our head torches bounce off the thickening fog and the our vaporised breath. However I lose contact on the technical trail along the ridge between Fairy Castle and Tribadden as my eyesight in the rain and ability to negotiate the rocky terrain isn't the best. Caution is certainly the name of the game at this stage. I am joined by two other runners on the descent towards the Glencullen Road, one of whom is Donogh McGrath (No relation, although my youngest brothers name is Donogh). We eventually join up with Liam and Mark on the climb up to Prince Williams Seat, but 4 of us stray off course (Mark, Liam, Tim Chapman and I) having to double back after realising the error of our ways after 5 or 6 minutes (about 1.2 miles of a detour), making our way through the back of the field. On the descent down through Curtlestown Wood I open up my stride and am on my own, around the flank of Knockree and down to the bank of the Glencree River, taking it very slowly on the steep muddy trail. I can see a string of headlamps behind me bobbing through the darkness as they slowly gain and we arrive at the Crone Wood car park with about 2:50 on the clock - just 10 minutes under the cut-off - well down on where I expected to be. I grab my drop bag (nuts/figs) and am on my way up through Crone Wood, after Richard checks that I am good to go.

Leg 2 Crone Wood  to Glendalough (22 - 50 km, Cut-off 0800hrs)

The cut-off times get more generous as the race progresses partly to allow for increasing fatigue. On the walk up through Crone Wood I am joined by Bertie Harte, Mark and Liam, with Bertie's superior head torch far outshining the rest and a godsend on the climb up through the rivers of water flowing down from Djouce (like full beams versus parking lights) - one or two hairy moments scrambling along the technical rocky trail around the shoulder of Djouce ankle deep in freezing water with Bertie's guiding light like the north star. Eventually we make it onto the boardwalk as the first light of dawn begins to seep through the enveloping cloud. As the light improves we switch off our head torches as we make our way down onto the Sally Gap Road, where Mark and Liam are met by their support crew and stop for a few refreshments. I decline the offer of food, but do drop off my head torches for safe keeping and head off with Bertie up the fire road around the shoulder of Ballinafunshoge heading for Oldbridge. We more or less stick together (with the exception of a toilet break diversion) all the way to Glendalough chatting away, passing 2 guys en-route, with one of them catching up with us before arriving at Glendalough. Bertie decides to change out of some of his wet gear and offers me a replacement base layer but I decline as my philosophy is that if nothing is causing discomfort don't change it - worked well in Connemara last year.

Leg 3 Glendalough to Iron Bridge (50 - 78 km, Cut-off 1200hrs)

My stop in Glendalough is just long enough to pick up my drop bag (banana milk, a salty spud and a few homemade chocolate covered almond/coconut balls). We were told on arrival that there were 14 ahead of us - although some of them could still have been at Glendalough when I left, as there was quite a bit of activity with a few cars in the car park. The Garmin read 6:30 as I walked out of the aid station tucking into my food stash. One of the guys who came in with me passed by at a trot heading towards the upper lake ( In hindsight I think it was Gareth Little as his story ties in with mine). He eventually came back to me as I resumed running and kept a steady pace up the fire road towards Mullacor. I had planned to walk the steeper section towards the top but managed to break it up with a minute on/off  of running/walking as the low cloud prevented me from seeing too far ahead, breaking the climb into bite size chunks.

The top eventually comes within an hour of leaving Glendalough as I make my way along a short section of boardwalk and onto the open moor above the Glenmalure valley. Descending towards the woodland proves tricky as I begin slip sliding all over the place on the wet grassy surface and in one place pulling my right leg back under me which temporarily weakens a few of the knee ligaments, making the descent down the rock staircase to the fire road a bit of a side shuffle to prevent further stressing the leg and to avoid slipping on the greasy slabs.

Route Up Around Mullacor (North to South)

Once I am onto the fire road though my legs come back into their own and I am able to resume a steady downhill run towards Glenmalure, stopping once to pull out the map to make sure I was still on course. As I dropped down the valley I spot another runner in front and come alongside Fergal Connolly as we both make our way onto the road passing the Glenmalure Lodge, where I refill my water bottle from a support crew car, before turning left at the halfway point into another section of forestry for the climb up Slieve Maan. The time is 8:10. Fergal tells me that there are 7 in front of us.

At the forest entrance Jeff and Rob, Race Directors, are dishing out rasher sandwiches and coffee at an impromptu aid station - the smell of rashers frying on the pan is intoxicating - they are obviously acutely in tune with the cravings of an ultra runner. I decline the bread and coffee and take a rasher from the pan and follow Fergal up the fire road.

Our steady walk takes us past another runner who says that he is beginning to struggle - hopefully he'll get a second wind as it's still a long way from home. I walk at a brisk pace with Fergal for most of the climb but gradually pull ahead as I decide that the gradient is runnable and the energy levels are good. Soon I am on the descent and watching out for the left turn along the boardwalk towards the main road at Drumgoff Gap, which I missed in the recce run. I spot it easily this time and step onto the boardwalk and before I know it my feet are whipped out from under me as the traction on the nail studded sleepers is non-existent and I land heavily on the hard surface on the outside of my left leg.

I instantly feel a sharp pain along the entire length of my leg from the hip to the knee (IT Band area)

and when I get up initial attempts at walking are painful and slow. I start cursing and swearing to myself as it is touch and go as to whether or not I will be able to continue. But all I can do is to push on as best I can and see if there is an improvement - lets get as far as Iron Bridge and see how I feel then - maybe i'll get some assistance there (deepheat or something)

Each footfall sends a jolt of pain up the outside of my left leg and my pace slows in response to the truncated stride length I am forced to use to limit the discomfort. Running downhill is particularly painful. I continue on in the hope that the discomfort will subside over time, vigorously rubbing/kneading the muscle along the outside of my leg in the hope that it will promote more blood flow to speed up the repair process.

I manage the climb up and over Carrickashane but cannot take full advantage of the downhill along the fireroad - the steeper the section the more painful the foot strike. I use the opportunity to ring Abina to assure her I am doing ok, but my touch screen phone doesn't respond to touch - feck this new technology - give me the old nokia with the big buttons and 3 weeks battery life any day.

I eventually make my way into Iron Bridge aid station with my tales of woe and get plenty of sympathy, which unfortunately does nothing for the pain. I ask to use someones phone to ring "my next of kin" and after they realise I am not joking they dial the number but there is no coverage. I take some comfort from devouring the contents of my drop bag - cold chicken noodle soup and another salty spud, before sliding up the road with my gammy leg. Time is just before 9:50.

Arriving at Ironbridge - 78k

Leg 3 Iron Bridge to Dying Cow (78 - 105 km, Cut-off 1630hrs)

This leg proves to be deceptively long, as I somehow though, without referring to the map, that there was only one off road section in it. Also I had not seen any runners in front of me since leaving Fergal, despite being able to see up to half a mile in front of me at times. On the walk up through the woods after Ballyteige Bridge I manage to get through to Abina on the phone and tell her that I am doing well and should be finished around half past four, already resigned to the fact that a sub-16 hour finish may not be possible.

The first off road section is relatively short and I am soon on a reasonably long section of road to Moyne, the majority of which is a gradual downhill run. The pain in my left leg becomes less noticeable, perhaps because the fatigue elsewhere in my legs. I'm soon turning right fording a small river and heading uphill cross country where I take an easy walking pace as running uphill is proving painful and too much like hard work. The day is heating up a little now and the layers that were considered so necessary at the start of the race are beginning to raise a bit more sweat. Rounding the side of Garryvoe Hill I spot two people about half a mile ahead entering Mangan's Wood - more than likely fellow runners. I don't see them again over the next 4 km taking me through Mangan's Wood (scooping water from pools with my cap to cool my head) and Coolafunshogue Lane (with all those gates to open and close) eventually leading to the Tinahealy Road. Still no sign of life or any support crews. I jog along the road towards Tinahealy before taking a sharp right up a narrow minor road past Ashfield House. I look back down the valley to the bridge I crossed 10 minutes previously and see a few support crew vehicles pull in and park up - too late for me to replenish my water bottles.

It is just past 12:30 and I am heading off road again along the Muskeagh Boreen, an old road that never got upgraded following the invention of the car and now used as a cattle path around the lower slopes of Muskeagh Hill. I am conscious of keeping ahead of the relay runners, who started at 7 a.m. and finish in Shillelagh, a few km beyond the Dying Cow Pub. With a record of 7 hours plus, all I have to do is to get to the Dying Cow before 1400hrs. Off in the distance I spot the two other runners I had seen previously and as I come off the Boreen and drop towards the road I come alongside Donna McLoughlin and her sister Caroline, who is supporting her. Donna is aiming to break the women's record, which she tells me is 17:20 and I say she should be well on target as I had been aiming for sub 16 hours and while I won't make I won't be too far off. "Will you get under 17 hours" she asks. "Sure" I respond, resisting the urge to say i'll be under 16:30. Donna remarks that she is in much better shape than last year - her head is in the right place but her body is protesting a little. We share the last few drops of water from my bottle and I head off on the 2km+ final road section of the leg to the Dying Cow aid station, managing to jog most of it as it is downhill or flat.

I am very glad to see the Dying Cow as my water bottles are empty and I am a bit overdressed for the warm weather. It takes me a while to take off my reflective bib, rain jacket, top and base layer - back on the (short sleeved) top - off again - i'll use the dry long sleeved top in my backpack - I pull it out and it is saturated - so it is back on with my slightly less saturated short sleeved top. I give my wet gear to Bertie's support guy (sorry didn't get your name) for collection later in Clonegal. I also notice fellow runner Tim Chapman who is helping out at the aid station after having had to drop out of the race (the true spirit of IMRA)

In the meantime a guy sitting on a canvas chair introduces himself as fellow competitor, John Cronin. My clubmate Killian had asked me to look out for his buddy John, when he knew I was running the race and here he was 105km in, relaxing on a chair as if he was on vacation. He says he is at a bit of a low point so after picking up my drop bag (Chocolate milk, a slice of tea brack and a few more almond/coconut energy balls) we walk up the hill out of Dying Cow, joined by another guy who introduces himself as Torben - and there I was thinking everyone at the aid station was a volunteer - runners were coming out of the woodwork. Donna arrives at Dying Cow in great spirits, just as we are leaving.

Leg 4 Dying Cow to Raheenakit (105 - 114 km, Cut-off 1830hrs)

 

This leg is relatively short and entirely on road. In hindsight I would have preferred if the last aid station had been a further 4 to 6km along the route. I walk up the road from Dying Cow chatting away to John & Torben and drinking my chocolate milk. It is just gone 13:20. As the road begins to level out I suggest that we jog on - make hay while the sun shines sort of thing. Both John and Torben respond much better than I and they pull slightly ahead as we descend to Kilquiggan Cross. John never gets too far ahead and I manage to pull level with him after a while but Torben is out of sight. I suspect he is going for 4th place (there are 3 ahead of us). I haven't the energy to even think about chasing him down and settle into a steady pace with John, looking forward to the next uphill so that I can walk and take on a the rest of my chocolate milk and tea brack, which comes just after crossing the main Tullow/Shillelagh Road. The next few miles are relatively comfortable, chatting away about all things running, as we take our time and walk at the slightest incline - any excuse.  Soon we are climbing "Conorary Hill", a short steep section of road leading to the entrance to Raheenakit Forrest, with Jeff manning the last aid station before the finish.

Torben is about to leave as we arrive, so he is not that far ahead. I stop and pick up my last drop bag (more tea brack and a bottle of coke). My body feels like a dry sponge soaking up the sugary coke into every pore. Jeff wishes us well saying that there are only 11km to go. With about 14:40 on the clock I think surely we'll make the 11km before 16:00. We are well into the last section before we realise that it was closer to 11 miles than 11 km.

 

Leg 5 Raheenakit to Clonegal (114 - 131 km, Cut-off 2100hrs)

We take our time walking through Raheenakit Forrest feeling a bit sorry for Torben, who we figure must be running scared thinking we are hot on his heels. To be quite honest at this stage we are only interested in finishing and as long as it is under 17 hours we will be quite happy. John had been second last year in 16:01 and he won't be in a position to better that today - not after the "damp" start. Eventually we are back on roads, winding our way around Moylisha Hill to the last forest entrance and the long and winding trail up around Urelands Hill, which appears to go on forever, particularly at the pace we are going at. Eventually we arrive at the forest exit, where we are greeted by a race Marshall, who tells us it is only 5km to Clonegal.. We're on the home straight now, although conscious of the fact that we are unwilling/unlikely to run the entire way, we break it up into a series of run/walk sections which helps divert our attention from the pain and suffering our bodies are experiencing. The finish is tantalisingly close when we can see the church steeple through the trees in the distance, still perhaps a mile off. We break into a jog and manage to hold it together for the closing half mile, passing the "Welcome to Clonegal" sign (never before did I feel so welcome), seeing the last junction ahead with a few supporters cheering us on - around to the left and keep going until we both come to rest against the board denoting the start/finish of the Wicklow Way - 16:51 is the time.

 

We can stop now  - the relentless forward motion that has driven us all day can be switched off and  what little energy we have left can be used to make ourselves more comfortable (change into dry gear) and refuel (the chipper was less than 50 yards from the finish). This process takes an age as everything I do is in slow motion and I waste a lot of time walking aimlessly around forgetting what I am supposed to be doing. The mind has been working hard for 17 hours and has not only missed it's scheduled breaks but also has been deprived of it's overnight shutdown - it's "me" time now and the body can wait. 

 

Torben had nothing to fear as he was 20 minutes ahead of us at the finish. Donna came in 10 minutes behind us (17:01) to break the womens record (17:23) by over 20 minutes - fantastic achievement, with Fergal hot on her heels a minute later. Within the next few hours the remainder of the field comes in, including Bertie, Mark and Liam and their respective crews.

 

John and I finished in Joint 5th, out of 19 Official Finishers.

Finish Line Celebration (L-R) Mark, ???, Liam & Myself

 

Thanks to

 

• Race Directors Jeff & Rob - without their vision and energy, there would be no Wicklow Way Race and I know that many feet will trod the same path that I have trodden in the years to come as this race will only gain in stature and prominence and I will be proud to be able to say that I ran the Wicklow Way Solo in 2014.
• Race Marshals Adrian, Aoibheann, Richard & Tim and friends - giving up your day to offer support and refreshments to the weary travellers along the by-roads of Wicklow.
• Support Crews who offered me the same support they were providing to their runners - Frank, Rob and Bertie's guy in particular. 

The Aftermath

I expected my left leg to be sore the following day and it was. But by far the biggest pain came from my right shin - I could not walk on it and had to hobble around all day - totally unexpected as it was not sore during the race but now was so painful. Later in the day Abina gave me some anti-inflammatory pain killers and the pain subsided but I was still limping around the place for a few days and felt a bit under the weather (flu type symptoms) which was probably to be expected given the ordeal I had put my body through - and i'm no spring chicken anymore. I'll probably lose both of my big toenails as my shortened downhill stride tended to push them against the front on my shoes. In an ideal world I would have changed into bigger shoes halfway through the race (or cut away the toe box) to accommodate my expanding feet. My feet are still a bit swollen.

The other main side effect was that I felt a little tired wrecked all week, which I suppose is to be expected. The 6 week coffee depletion followed by a 2 hour coffee loading before the race made sure that I did not fall asleep on the job. John Cronin had mentioned to me that he had felt himself "nodding off" during some of our walk breaks over the closing stages of the race "as you would do from time to time on the couch while watching TV". Another guy I passed before Glendalough (5 a.m.) recalled that he felt fine but that he was very tired/sleepy, which you would expect at that time in the morning particularly if you have ever worked a night shift.  So lessons learnt from this race are "don't fall unless you've got something soft to land on and don't fall asleep especially if you have something soft to land on"

 

 

To be fair to Abina she said nothing all week, not even an "I told you so" although she did mention in passing this evening, "you're not doing that again, putting your body through all that".........I couldn't argue with her, it was a reasonable statement that made perfect sense..........but I could feel my mind begin to wander a little and the sound of her voice begin to fade. I'd want to get my hearing checked, this ultra running must be affecting it.

 

Focus

For the first 10 weeks of the year I was Mr. consistency - averaging 70 miles a week which included a marathon distance run at the weekend around a club 40 minute tempo run. On these days i'd run into town, warmup with my clubmates, run a 40 minute out and back tempo @ 6:30 to 6:45 pace and then run home, making sure I covered at least 26.2 miles. Some of these were a bit of a slogfest but I adapted and they became easi(er) over time. So while I wasn't as prolific at running/pacing organised marathons as I was last year (I still haven't run one this year) I managed to accumulate the same training benefit from my front door.

All this training culminated in the Wicklow Way Ultra on 22nd March, my 11th marathon distance run of the year. The plan after Wicklow was to repeat last years marathon training programme for Portumna, for which last years M40 win entitled me to a free entry this year. The purpose of the early season tempo runs was to accustom me to the harder efforts of the mile and 2 mile repeats @ 6:15/20 pace that the programme would demand. However within a week and a half of Wicklow I was sporting a mild strain in my left calf, probably due to a combination of maintaining my weekend marathon streak and getting lost coming down from Galty Mór on a evening run and having to run a bit longer than planned to get back to the car. As speedwork was out of the question the strain prevented me from starting my marathon training programme and it was back to easy aerobic running. Even this was putting strain on my calf and I had to ease back for a few days.

 

With the possibility of a serious attempt at Portumna fading the longer my injury prevailed my sights began to shift back towards the endurance side of the spectrum (i.e. all day events). I had two potential targets -

 

(i) if my injury prevailed I would aim for the Sneem 50 Mile Walk on 24th May. To hedge my bets I introduced a few walk only sessions into my weekly training culminating in a 20 mile 4 hour walk on roads - and you though long runs were monotonous!!!

 

(ii) if I recovered reasonably quickly I would aim for the Wicklow Way Solo Race, also on 24th May. This race had been on the back of my mind since my cousin Liam mentioned it to me earlier in the year, the only issue being how could I fit it into my marathon training and be sufficiently recovered to give Portumna a good old rattle. The answer was that I couldn't, it was either one or the other and now with Potumna out of the picture, the Wicklow Way was left standing uncontested.

 

The only concerns I had were that the I had only ever run about 24km of the primarily off-road 131km route and the first 4 or 5 hours of the race would be in the dark (it starts at midnight).

 

I dealt with the first concern by doing a recce of the entire route over 3 separate runs spaced out over a few weeks, the first as part of a Sunday group run from Marley Park to Glenmalure (km 2 - 65) on 27th April and the remaining two on my own - Glenmalure to Moyne (Km 65 - 91) and Moyne to Clonegal (Km 91 - 131) over the following weeks (a great way to use up excess annual leave). The second concern was glossed over with a 5 mile midnight run on Friday/Saturday, with 3 of those miles through Ballincollig Regional Park wearing my budget Aldi headtorch. It did the job, and spooked a few birds from their slumber in the process. I also picked up a spare head torch yesterday in a Euro saver shop for €1.50 (sans batteries) - and it's brighter than the €8 Aldi version. The days of spending money on "quality" torches  ended when the €50 Cateye torch I bought for my bike gave up the ghost within a few months of purchase (and less than 15 hours of work on the clock) - it couldn't handle the wet (i.e. outdoor use!!!)

 

So....... with a week to go it is option (ii) that I have gone for (Sneem was ever only going to be a fall back - but I will keep up the walk training) and now it's time to do a bit of planning.

 

Support

While the race will be supported (drop bag/aid station locations have not been identified yet as it depends on the number of volunteers) I will not have the luxury of having 24/7 attention like I did on Connemara last year so I will have to carry some provisions in a backpack.

 

Time

I haven't a clue. The cut-off is 21 hours. The combined time of the recce runs is a little over 16 hours, but I was fully refreshed at the start of each segment. To give me some basis for aiming for 16 hours I compared my recent Wicklow Way Ultra time of 4:58 to that of Clubmate Paul Tierney (4:18) and applied the ratio (1.155) to Paul's 2011 record breaking run on the Wicklow Way of 13:39. This gave me a time of 15:46, so sub-16 hours is possible. Then again Paul had full support in his 2011 attempt and I on the other hand will not be drafting in any additional assistance next weekend. So we'll see.........

 

Getting There

The current plan is to drive to Clonegal on Friday. Walk the 4 km to Kildavin to get the evening bus to Dublin. Get my brother in law to collect me from the bus station and drop me to Marley Park, with a few hours rest in between, run from Marley Park to Clonegal and drive home. I'm even tired thinking about it. 

 

 

A Mugs Game

Shortly after 8:30 on Saturday morning I arrived at Glencullen, in the foothills of the Dublin mountains, to sign up for the Wicklow Way Ultra, organised by the Irish Mountain Running Association. The race, starting at 9:30, was an out and back route, primarily along the Wicklow Way, from Glencullen to Ballinastoe, with the half (Wicklow Way Trail Race) starting in Ballinastoe at 12:00.

 

I was hoping that my journey to the finish would be less arduous than my journey to the start, having very nearly missed registration, which is limited to online this year (last year I just showed up and registered on the day) and having to stop off at the Asics shop in Kildare Village on the way up the evening before to buy shorts, after twigging that I had forgot to pack any.

 

An advance party had headed off at 8:30 for those that were concerned with making the course cut-off times. Last year I completed the course in 6 hrs 12 minutes in very harsh conditions. This year I was hoping to do considerably better - a sub 5:30 should be on the cards, given good conditions. Before the race even started I got my first and only injury of the day, catching my right leg in a bramble while taking a toilet break, While the scratch was minor enough it did bleed enough that a quick wipe from my hand wasn't enough to stem the flow - i'd just have to leave it run down my leg and let it clot in its own time. While conditions were cold they were not as bad as last year and the latest reports were that there was little evidence of snow. My fuelling was very simple this year. I had packed a 250ml bottle of the EFS Carb Drink I had used for the Connemara 100 last year and had 2 zip-lock bags of the powder to add to water picked up along the route. I did not avail of the option of drop bags at Crone Wood (Mile 8 & 24) and Ballinastoe (Mile 16)

 

About 100 of us in all headed off without much fanfare after the 9:30 "ready steady go!". My pace/effort was relatively easy for the first few miles along paved roads, crossing the Glencullen River for the gradual climb up to Prince Williams Seat. I chatted to one or two along the way but as I was not running with anyone I knew I kept to my own pace (Clubmate Paul Tierney was running but he normally is winner or runner up). With the sun shining and the wind at our back the hats, gloves and coats come off. The effort up to the top of the first climb is relatively easy, however the start of the descent to Curtlestown Wood is rocky and steep and my technical descending abilities are crap compared those around me and I am left for dust - until the trail emerges onto a fire road and I can open up my stride and do a bit of catching up. Back on to paved roads for a while before we take a left along a forest road around the flank of Knockree and turn right down another steep trail where I am passed in rapid succession by more experienced mountain runners, chatting away as if there was noting to it.

 

We descend down to the Glencree River (the lowest point on the course @ about 500 feet), following its grassy banks before crossing it and rising again along a forest road initially and then on a paved road to the car park at the entrance to Crone Wood and the 8 mile water station. Those that had passed me earlier are walking, taking on food and gels. I take a cup of water and run on up the forest road.

 

The time is 1:12:30 and distance 8.43 miles. I have reached the quarter point of the race in less than 75 minutes, which sets me thinking that I am just about on sub 5-hour pace - if only I could get to the turnaround at Ballinastoe before 2hr 30min and get started on the return leg before the 200 runners commence the trail race. With a 1,750 foot climb to the flank of Djouce in front of me it's a bit early to be setting goals. My energy is still good as I climb steadily through Crone Wood with the views across north county Wicklow towards the Irish Sea spectacular in the morning sunshine. Passing Powerscourt Waterfall we descend briefly to cross the Dargle River before making the final assault on Djouce (still another 1,000 feet to climb). Progress is steady and I gradually gain on a group in front, joining them as we scramble along the track around the side of Djouce and onto the Boardwalk (about 2 foot wide timber sleepers) that takes us around the side of Djouce and on to White Hill. The wind from the South West is so strong that it blows me off the boardwalk onto the surrounding bog. Running on it is very difficult and I spent most of this section running alongside the boardwalk.

 

Descending from Djouce - Mile 14ish

The initial steep descent towards Ballinastoe sees the more experienced runners passing me. Eventually we are on the forest road leading to the turnaround with the front runners coming against us. I greet Paul Tierney as he passes by a minute or two behind the leader. I start counting those coming against me to gauge my position but stop after 10 or 12 as I cannot distinguish between those that started with me and those that headed out an hour early - they all seemed to be struggling up the hill.

 

The time is approaching 12 noon and whether or not I make the turnaround before the start of the trail race is touch and go. Not far to go - up ahead I see a photographer with his back to me ready to take a shot of something happening around the next bend - I round the bend and 200 runners are coming against me up the road - the trail race has started - they just about make room for me as they stream by. As the last runners pass by I hit the Ballinastoe checkpoint, where my number is taken and the marshall asks if I want my bloody leg dressed. I decline the offer and as I have no drop bag I do not join the other runners who have recently arrived but turn around and walk back up the road taking the

carb drink from my backpack and downing it in one before resuming a slow trot at the back of the field of trail runners with one other ultra runner for company.

 

The time at the turnaround is 2:30:46 - still on 5 hour pace, particularly as the return leg is nearly half a mile shorter (finish near Glencullen GAA Club as opposed to the start at Johnny Foxes Pub) - but will I have the same energy in a hour or two. As it is the climb back up to the Boardwalk is a steady slog, as I make my way through the back of the trail race field, eventually passing the ultra runner in front of me. From here on trail and ultra runners will be indistinguishable from one another.

 

Up on the boardwalk it gets a little congested and for a while I am content to run in single file with the fresh legs of the trail runners in front of me pulling me up the steeper sections of the hill. Once we are off the board walk and on the descent from Djouce my legs are rejuvenated and I can open up my stride a little, always careful with my footing on the mixed terrain. Across the Dargle River and up the short steep climb to the top of the long descent down through Crone Wood where I can really pick up the pace on the forest road, eventually joining a group of runners from Northern Ireland just as the heavens open and we are hit by hailstones. The Crone Wood checkpoint is the next milestone - 8 miles from home - I really need to be hitting it a few minutes before 3:45 to give me a bit of a cushion for a sub 5 hour finish.

 

The watch reads 3:43:52 as I stop and take a glass of water and 3 jelly babies at the Crone Wood Car Park - no time to make up my carb drink and I think I have enough in the tank to get me home, with the jelly baby top-up.

 

"ok a one minute cushion on 3:45......plus it only took me 1:12:30 on the outbound leg, which gives me another cushion of two minutes..........plus the return leg is shorter than the outbound leg so the aggregate cushion should be enough to get me to the finish in under five hours"

 

What I didn't know at the time was that the return leg was a net uphill compared to the net downhill outbound leg - ignorance is bliss. My energy levels are good as I descend to the banks of the Glencree River, running along its bank, passing a few trail runners and perhaps 1 ultra runner (I thought I had spotted him earlier) who is running noticeably slower.

 

The real test is about to come - the last obstacle - the long climb from the valley floor up and over Prince Williams Seat (1,250 feet of climbing). Once I am over that I am on the home journey and I know my quads will be strong enough to take the downhill pounding of the last descent, so the job is to keep a sustainable relentless effort, walking the steep sections but at a strong pace/effort. There is a string of runners in front of me whom I gradually reel in - the trail runners are now feeling the effort. My pace is purely set in accordance with perceived effort - I rarely look at the watch and never at my Heart Rate - this is a race and not a training run.

 



Mile 26ish - Behind Brendan Murphy of Le Cheile AC
 

There's a mobile water station at the entrance to Curtlestown Wood but I keep going. If I can keep running for the length of the forest road i'll walk the final steep section up onto the flank of Prince Williams Seat. There is a group of four or five 100 yards ahead, all of them trotting up the hill chatting away to one another. I keep a steady pace behind them and they gradually get closer - one of the guys is wearing a pair of vibrams. A few times when I get to within 5 yards I revert to steady walking for 100 yards and resume a slow shuffle to pull them back in. I don't know whether they are ultra or trail runners but it doesn't concern me too much as my goal is time related and  they come in very handy for pulling me up the hill, as at times the effort is beginning to feel like a struggle . I eventually join them as they reel in a few more who join the group.

 

At the top of the forest road we all revert to walking up the steep trail, with one of the guys shouting encouragement to the group saying that that was the first time he had run that entire section and urging everyone to stick together at a steady fast walk. I track him up the trail, with the group spreading out behind - the continuous uphill run having taken it's toll on a few of them.  The rocky trail eventually gives way to a more gentle ascent along a coarse sand track that takes us over the crest of the hill and I gradually pick up the pace as the track levels out and then descends, gradually at first and then more steeply as the coarse sand track gives way to a more unpleasant rocky forest road.

 

I can smell the finish line, which is still a few miles away. While I have no issue with pushing a steady hard pace I do not look at my watch as I don't want to put myself under undue pressure, particularly as this is not a measured course and therefore I don't know how far I have left to run. I reach the bottom of the descent, crossing the Glencullen River, passing a steady trickle of trail runners (I assume) as I tackle the last climb of the day up onto the road leading to Glencullen, sticking to a good steady pace, surprised at how little fatigue I feel (relatively speaking).

 

There is one guy ahead who is keeping a steady distance in front of me while everyone else around me is running at a slower pace. I keep the effort steady until I can see the goal posts of the Glencullen GAA pitch in the distance and decide to sneak a look at the watch - 4:57:15 or thereabouts. This is enough to spur me on as I immediately pick up the pace, not wanting to throw away a sub-5 hour finish, keeping a strong effort as I round the last bend and race towards the finish line halving the gap to the guy in front - crossing the line in 4:58:20 (Official time 4:58:30) congratulating the guy in front of me. He turns and asks me what time I did as his watch had malfunctioned. when I tell him he looks a bit perplexed at first until I realise that he had run the Trail race and I confirm that it was just under 2:30. I swap my number for a mug and jog the half mile back to the car, delighted with my sub-5 hour finish, not knowing how I did relative to the rest of the field and for the moment not caring, surprised that, while the whole run took a lot out of me I can't say that I struggled hugely.

 

While I though my time would get me a top 20 finish the results place me 9th out of 121 finishers and 2nd M40. I never though I'd get a top 10 finish so I'm delighted with that. Maybe if I could get a few lessons in technical downhill running I could improve ;-). With Paul Tierney taking second spot that's two Eagles in the top 10 - not a bad day for the club.

 

 

That's Class

I've been to Connemara 4 times in my life, all of which involved running (ultras). In fact I reckon that I have covered more miles on foot in Connemara than in a car.


The Plan

While my primary motivation was to experience the physical and mental challenge that "running" 100 miles would bring (an adventurous journey into the unknown) I had to set myself a target so as to keep focused. My A-target was Sub-18 hours as I thought it would be nice to complete the distance within the calendar day (6 a.m. to Midnight). In addition my crew had only signed up for the Saturday. Sunday was double time. Based on previous years results I though that my current form put me among those capable of coming in around 18 to 20 hours - although predicting 100 mile finishing times is a fools game. With 100 miles, predicting that you'll finish at all is even risky.

 

My B, C and D targets were sub-20, 24 and 30 hours respectively, with 30 hours being the cut-off time.

 

To break down my 18 hour plan into bite size chunks I first divided the distance in half using the "50 Mile Factor" taken from the Umstead 100 training/racing plan. The "50 Mile Factor" for Umstead is 1.30 - representing the time for the second 50 miles divided by the time for the first 50 miles for the average finisher. Allowing 30 minutes for unexpected stops (popping blisters, changing gear, relieving muscle cramps etc.) my plan consisted of 17:30 "moving time" split between 7:36 for the first 50 miles (9:08 pace) and 9:54 for the second 50 miles (11:52 pace) - overall pace of 10:30. I further split each 50 mile segment into 10 x 5 mile sections with a gradual fade in pace from start (8:42) to end (13:46). In reality the plan was, at best, a means of assessing my progress rather than dictating my pace. As it turned out the plan was not referred to during the race at all. Good to have in the back pocket though.

 

Setting a time goal is all well and good but as I was not going to be running all the way I needed a strategy for walking. I resisted the option of running and walking for set durations and opted for a run/walk by feel strategy based on keeping everything aerobic (below my 138 MAF heart rate), which would require walking most of the uphills (feeding time).

 

 

Fuel

After water, the core component of my fuelling strategy was EFS (Electrolyte Fuel System), which I initially came across on this site and purchased from this UK distributor (not available in Ireland yet). It only arrived on the Thursday morning (less than 2 days before race start) so I had no time to check it out - serious rookie mistake, I know - the first time I drank it was 1 hour into the race. It was very palatable (I had the Lemon-Lime version) with none of that sickly sweet taste of other energy drinks/gels and the mix was such that it was easily digested and the nutrients rapidly absorbed through the lining of my gut. The rest of my fuel consisted of anything I could possibly get a hankering for -

 

Nuts (almonds, pecans and peanuts),

Fruit & Veg (salted potatoes, bananas & raisins),

Supplements/meal replacement (gels, ensure & electrolyte powder),

Cheap carbs (tea brack, salt crackers, Dark Chocolate (85%), bread, banana & walnut cake, raspberry and coconut cake, rice cakes, bakewell tarts, biscuits)

Other "Drinks" (Coffee, Coke, Banana Milk)

Others (Minestrone Soup, peanut butter, jam)

 

I did not take the foods with a strikethrough on the day - I may have left a lot of food out of the list above. Contrary to what my crew thought the smoked mackerel and spring onions were never intended for taking during the race.

 

 

Gear

My basic gear consisted of a pair of Asics Gel Tarthers (more suited to 5k and 10k races perhaps), a loose Waterford winter league running top thrown into my Waterford Marathon Pacer's goodie bag, a loose pair of shorts which formed part of the pacers kit for the Limerick Marathon, a reflective running bib with a zipped pocket to the front (handy for carrying the nuts and chocolate) and a pair of cotton socks. This is what I felt most comfortable in, but I also had a large supply of backup gear that I could change into during the race if needed.

 

I covered each of my toes in Elastoplast to minimise nail damage, chafing, blister formation etc. (better and cheaper than getting my toenails surgically removed). Ideally I would have bought a pair of toe socks like injinji. Two borrowed head torches and back up batteries would do for dawn/dusk/night?.

 

 

 

Before

My crew consisted of clubmates John (Bike) and Denis (Mother ship). We travelled up the evening before in convoy (you'd never know when a spare car would come in handy) and almost ran out of fuel between Oughterard and Clifden (It may be useful to know that fuel is available in Recess, as the race briefing even missed it).

 

On reaching Clifden and with 3 minutes to go to race briefing I decided to pick up a few more last minute provisions, with Denis coming into the store and nearly pulling me from the checkout before I got to the till "we can get this stuff later" he said, "if needs be i'll come back for it" - this guy doesn't like being late, every minute counts (and this was the day before the race!) - in one action he validated his selection as commander in chief of the mission.

 

The race briefing was....brief. In fairness the rules, route, checkpoints, phone numbers and list of mandatory items were clearly set out in the race booklet. There were 12 starters in all, 11 men and Aoife. Looking at the two winners trophies all I could think was "Lucky Bitch" (excuse my French). I did think "Wouldn't it be great if I could bring the other one home with me" but thought that the odds of that happening were quite slim. After all quite a few of the others had form:-

 

• Maciej (Magic) Sawicki, was running his 5th Connemara 100, and was aiming for sub-17 hours, having narrowly missed it last year.
• Graeme Colhoun had come second to the legendary Mick Rice two years running and went under 16 hours in his first attempt.
• Thomas Bubendorfer, who stormed to a 200k+ 2nd place finish at the Belfast 24 hour last year, 2nd only to John O'Regan, who represents Ireland on the international stage.

....and these were just the guys I knew about! One of the other competitors had completed Badwater and the Thames Ring 250. Badwater!!! FFS.

After loading up the car we retired to the B&B in Letterfrack for the night, dining on meat balls and spuds (Which I had prepared earlier). The "triple room" consisted of a spacious double bed and 2 bunk beds for the crew ;-)

 

During

After about 2 hours of real sleep, we were up before 5 having our first breakfast of coffee and toast, followed by our second breakfast of coffee and croissants at the Station House Hotel in Clifden before heading up through the early morning dawn to the start, posing briefly for the "press" to take a few photos.

 

I'm the one checking out Thomas's crossed fingers

 

 Without much fanfare the countdown commenced and we were off - the slowest start to any race I ever started. As my plan was to warmup by walking the first mile+, I took up the rear behind Thomas, who was trotting slowly behind the peleton.

To Checkpoint #1 (Mile 28)
The first mile was a lap of the town before heading north up the hill on the road to Letterfrack. Mile 1 in 12:08. Where the road levelled out I began to run, still keeping my heart rate pretty low, gradually building it up. Slowly I began to reel in the back of the field as my running pace was relatively fast. Still mile 2 came in at a relatively pedestrian 10:44. My pace picked up quite a bit on the downhills with Mile 3 coming in at 7:36! I wasn't too concerned as the effort/HR was easy. For the first hour I only took water on board with Denis and John spacing themselves about 100 yards apart, with one handing me the bottle and the other taking it from me. My first solid food is a Rennie at about mile 5 (heartburn after the big breakfast). When I pass Thomas he quips " I thought you wouldn't catch me until mile 60 or 70". I doubted that I would be catching anyone at Mile 60, unless they were stopped.

There is a good long downhill stretch between miles 5 and 9, which sees me pass most of the field. Passing Maciej, I ask him has he any advice, "yeah" he says "slow down". Sound advice and I certainly planned on slowing down (as per the plan), just not yet. I pass the three front runners for the first time at about Mile 7. A quick diversion into the woods for a toilet break at about Mile 8 doesn't lose me the lead. Coming into Letterfrack (Mile 9) I walk to take my drink and am passed by two guys (Graeme Colhoun and Sammy Kilpartick). I exchange places with these 2 for the next 10 miles as the route take us to Tully Cross and along the north Connemara coast to Lettergesh.

From Mile 17.5 the hills disappear for a while as we turn inland along the shores of Lough Muck and Lough Fee (spectacular tranquil scenery). While Graeme's, Sammy's and Thomas's crews pass me from time to time to set up mobile feeding stations, I do not see them. Approaching the N59 Junction, John joins me on the bike until Checkpoint 1 at Lough Inagh Lodge. We are now on the 38 mile loop that forms the April Connemara ultra course (39.3 miles), running close to one and a half times in reverse from Mile 21.5 to 71.5 (50 miles). We pass the first marathon mark in about 3:56 - just approaching 10 a.m. (I was adding 1% to the Garmin distance to allow for error).

The views through the Inagh valley are blocked by the low cloud and light rain, but this doesn't bother me as much as John, who is not pushing as hard as me and therefore is more inclined to "take in" the surroundings and feel the rain. While the first 20 miles were relatively uneventful for John and Denis, they were both having to work harder now - with John on the bike Denis had to do all the food prep, including the tea and sandwiches for their "breakfast". John was gasping for the cuppa as we approached Lough Inagh Lodge, so as they made my presence known to Angela, they retired for a bite to eat and left me go on my merry way, with the intention of catching up with me well before we hit the main Galway/Clifden road at Mile 33.

While I didn't know it at the time I was 7 minutes ahead of Sammy and Graeme at Checkpoint #1, who were a further 3 minutes ahead of Thomas.


To Checkpoint #2 (Mile 55)
I get my phone from Denis to ring Abina and assure her that I am still alive and take the opportunity to record a short video as a reminder of how I feel 30 miles in. I take a few more videos periodically throughout the day but only one more survived intact.





John and Denis join me before we turn left for Recess and Maam Cross forming a slow convoy of runner, bike and car for 9 miles along the busiest road of the day. The most comfortable place to run is along a water filled groove at the edge of the pavement - there's no avoiding the wet, but this is not an issue for me. I get my first niggle around mile 34 with a rising ache in my left hip, a weakness attributed to adaptation from my walk training. However after walking for a minute or two the ache subsides when I resume running. We eventually reach Maam Cross (Mile 42), with the monthly fair in full swing, the smell of burgers and chips filling all my senses.

Over the next mile or two, as I approach the "Hell of the West", I lose John and Denis as they stop for a breather and reload the bike into the car. As I stop and walk the last km towards the summit (it's not that bad in reverse) John and Denis catch up and I refuel. Seb and Iain (roving race official and photographer) stop in their convertible beamer for a quick chat to see how I am doing. Ok so far. I reach the top (Mile 44.5) and Denis and John drive ahead to Maam Bridge at the base of the hill, over 2 miles away.

As I run down the hill cyclists come against me, a few at first and then in larger groups - part of the 125k "Great Spin Out West" charity cycle. We exchange words of encouragement as we pass. Over the next 10 miles into Lenane I meet cyclists coming against me. The downhill running is only marginally faster and while my quads are in good condition I cannot take full advantage of the hill - Mile 46 in 8:00 is the best I can do. From Maam Bridge to Lenane (47 to 55) I begin to get a bit more irksome, but only when the crew are not around (and for that very reason). The gap between fuelling points is getting a bit long for my liking - more to do with the comfort of having the support on hand than from any lack of fuel.

I get a mug of Minestrone Soup shortly after mile 48 and it hit the spot. Denis told me afterward that it took quite a bit of preparation in setting up the "soup station" - locating a suitable uphill section, making up the soup, spotting my arrival and arranging the delivery and retrieval of the mug - all for 20 seconds of seamless fuelling on the go. Allowing for 1% error I pass halfway (Garmin mile 50.5) with 7:35 on the clock. I do a quick mental calculation using the 1.3 "50 Mile Factor" and reckon I am on target for a 16:45/16:50 finish. It turns out that the 1.3 factor would have given me a 17:27 finish - and I was full sure that my calculation was correct (the error of my ways was converting 135 minutes into 1 hour 35 minutes as opposed to 2 hours 15 minutes).

At about Mile 51 Sammy's crew (or trio of young female supporters) pass me and pull into a layby ahead. I'm certain they are just an advance party checking out how far ahead I am. But while they face towards the road they do not turn back but wait for me to pass and ask how I am doing - "not too bad" I reply "past half way and on the home stretch" , not showing any sign of weakness, in case it encourages the chasing group to close the gap.  I don't hear them pull away and wonder is it just a ploy to give me the impression that Sammy is gaining on me. Maybe it was my head going into overdrive.

The road eventually drops towards Lenane and Checkpoint #2, where I can pick up the pace a little - Mile 55 coming in 8:45 (the best I can do for a continuous downhill). Approaching Checkpoint #2 Seb and Iain pull up in their convertible and tell me that Thomas is in second place, 3 miles out, with another group not too far behind him. I can't believe that I am that far ahead. Denis has to clear a path through a crowd of tourists alighting from a bus and then dashes across the road to seek out Niall and log my arrival.


To Checkpoint #3 (Mile 67)
John joins me on the bike again and stays with me for the rest of the race. I had been looking forward to a walking break at Lenane but John "suggested" that I continue my run until I reach the hill, where Denis would be waiting with whatever food I wanted. There was a steady headwind heading west and while I was a bit annoyed that I had to go a bit further before I could walk I didn't have any physical issue with running - the saying that you "run the second 50 miles with your head" was beginning to ring through. As the road steepened slightly I began to "query" John a bit more on Denis's whereabouts - "Why didn't he stop there - it's a perfectly good place to park up and we're on a hill". As the race went on my definition of a hill was beginning to diverge from that of my crew. Fair play to John though, he listened to my complaints and ignored them if he could get away with it ;)

 I walked the last km of the hill and took on more fuel, including a salty spud. I rang Abina from Mile 58 (It was now 3 in the afternoon) to confirm I was still alive and that I would ring again in the evening. I chatted with John about my lead and the importance of proper fuelling and pacing for the rest of the race if I was to maintain it. John wasn't as enthusiastic as me, because he knew we were still a long way out and I suspected that he did not like me walking too much - thinking that I was throwing minutes away. I, on the other hand, put my relatively good form down to the fact that I had walked periodically from the very start.

Shortly after resuming running I felt a slight twinge in my left calf (as if it was about to cramp up) and stopped and walked immediately while John rang ahead to Denis for Biofreeze and salt tablets. All this talk of finishing time/position, over 40 miles out was quickly put to the back of my mind as a muscle cramp/spasm would quickly stop me in my tracks. I walked for a few minutes to where the car is parked and John quickly applies bio freeze to both calves and I take a salt tablet. I resumed running and there was no sign of any trauma in my calf.

Denis's next stop is at the "Stop and Pray" Church in the middle of nowhere - our second time passing it . Finding some time on his hands he goes in and lights 3 candles and when he come out he spots "three birds in a car" not quite the prayer he made - turns out they were Sammy's crew. 

Mile 64 - (Photo Courtesy of Iain Shaw)

I'm still in pretty good shape, although my best "running" pace is 9:30 to 10:00 miles. Having neglected to apply any vaseline or nipple plasters before the race, John has to provide them on the run as a few things are beginning to rub. I ask for another Minestrone soup and the bucket of water and sponge to be ready at Inagh Lodge when I am passing, as I feel I could do with cooling down. On arrival Denis is heading inside to announce my arrival and John hurriedly prepares the bucket and sponge, pouring some of the bottled mineral water in - does the job nicely although I have to run on without my cup of soup - i'm sure i'll get it down the road. Angela has to run out of the hotel to spot me running down the road.


To Checkpoint #4 (Mile 82)
I'm 2 miles beyond Checkpoint #3 before my crew catch up with me and I get my soup as I walk for a few minutes. After finishing the soup John hands me the recharging unit for the Garmin, which consists of a Duracell phone recharger connected to the Garmin cradle (305). In practice I was able to use the garmin strap to hold the watch and cradle combination onto my wrist and secure the charging unit and short cable on my arm using a bandana - but after nearly 70 miles of running/walking my hand eye coordination was slightly lacking. so after a few failed attempts I ran with the whole recharging assembly in my left hand for the next hour and a half. Word filters through that Thomas is still about 30 minutes behind at Checkpoint #3, but suffering, with Maciej hot on his heels. Denis reports later that he saw Thomas and that he appears to be shuffling along but is quite lucid as he recognised Denis and greeted him. This is enough to let me know that Thomas is quite strong and that the shuffle is not a sign of fatigue but his trademark ultra gait. I rang Abina at around the 70 mile mark, to check-in and she asked me was I in the lead - I just said that I'd talk to her later as it was a bit premature to say anything.

 It's not long before I am leaving the Connemara Ultra route behind me and heading west along the N59 towards the turnoff for Roundstone - 71.5 miles done. When passing this junction for the first time in the morning (with just under 5 hours on the Garmin) I had mentally added on 6 hours for the 38 mile loop, giving me an 11 hour target for this point. With the Garmin at 11:10, I wasn't too far off.

The next few miles along the main Clifden Road are a nightmare for John and Denis as traffic is quite heavy, but I feel safe in their shadow and get shouts of "bravo" from a passing Italian camper van. Eventually we are turning south on the road to Roundstone and for some reason I think we are on the home straight - nearly 74 miles done! - Just a marathon left - 5 hours ought to do it - surely I can do that. The road to Roundstone is much longer than I expect and drags on for what seems like an eternity. 12 hour in and I have about 76 miles on the clock - 4 miles ahead of the winner of the Belfast 12 hour last month, I always thought that race was not as hotly contested as the 24-hour.


John's recollection of his pre-race route drive-through on Google Street View is a bit out as he sends Denis forward to wait at a causeway about a mile ahead. Turns out that the causeway is a bridge about a mile or two miles further along - luckily Denis stops well in advance. Despite my rising irritation I manage to run most of this section.

Approaching the top of a hill and still 2.5 miles outside Roundstone, I stop for a pee at the side of the road and John tells me that a car is coming, obviously retaining more propriety that I - "I don't give a f*#k" was my quick response, as Seb and Iain pull alongside me in the now familiar convertible, with Seb commenting - "good to see that your keeping hydrated". Thankfully Iain left the camera in its case. Seb tells me that Thomas is about 3 miles back and is about to be overtaken by Maciej - where have I heard that before?

At last I am rounding a bend and can see Roundstone in the distance across the bay. I set myself the target of running until I hit the checkpoint in the centre of the village, already looking forward to my order of strong sugary coffee and tea brack, that I had placed with Denis 10 miles out. Mick Rice and Valerie Glavin (ultra running legends in their own right) appear at the side of the road cheering me on as the long and winding road eventually takes me into Roundstone. Denis had travelled ahead and informed anyone outside the pubs and cafes that would listen of who I was and what I was doing and the cheers I got as I made my way along the main street was fantastic. It might have only lasted 50 yards, but to hear total strangers calling out my name and cheering me on gave me a great lift - inspirational crewing from Denis.

The coffee and brack tasted great as I made my way up the hill to the final checkpoint, where I was joined on my walk by Mick Rice, who offered me advice on the last 15 miles into Clifden and commented on how close the race was this year with only a few mile between the top 3 or 4. This surprised me a little as usually a 3 mile lead in any race is a reasonably good indication that the win is in the bag - then again anything could happen over the closing 18 miles. As I finished my coffee Mick carried my cup back to my crew and I resumed my slow run - a true gentlemen.

Enjoying a Cuppa on the walk up towards Checkpoint #4

The Last 18 Miles
John had warned me about the hill out of Roundstone, the last real hill of the day. I thought he had mentioned that it was 1 km long so I mentally set aside 6 minutes of running to get me over it (9:40 pace - still too fast). 10 minutes later I was still climbing but I wasn't too troubled as I was in a reasonably good state, with the coffee haven given me a good boost (the first mile out of Roundstone was sub 10 minute pace). I stopped and walked when John caught up with me on the bike and the hill continued to climb up and over the headland, eventually giving way to a gradual descent.

Denis was eagerly waiting for word from Roundstone on how far behind number 2 was. John relayed a conversation he had with Mick Rice in Roundstone about how Maciej normally rallies during the closing 10 miles of the race, by loading up on red bull. This had me worried for a bit until I heard from Denis that Thomas was still in second place and 30 minutes behind with no sign of Maciej. Not that Thomas was any less of a threat. I mentally relax for a bit and took the time to ring Abina. "You're in the lead" she informed me.

I send a text to a friend who I thought was checking my progress through Abina.

"86 miles, 30 minutes clear at 82" I texted.

He responded "I know, following on Facebook. You have had 30 mins all day. Paces even enough so just keep head and you finish in front"

Christ he appeared to be more well informed of my progress than I was. I record my last video blog here before John gets a bit impatient and urges me to stop wasting time and start running again.


 

Those last 14 miles consisted of 11 miles to Clifden and 3 x 1 mile loops of the town. While I am tantalising close, every mile of progress feels agonisingly slow. I wait until 10 miles to go, while I am passing through Ballyconnely,  to start taking coke, my secret weapon - the intention being to alternate it with the EFS carb drink every 2 miles. In hindsight 2 mile intervals were too long and the effect of the coke wore off well before I was due to refuel. John was gently pushing me for a sub 16:30 finish and I was becoming slightly more irritable as I didn't really care about time and was just pushing for the win. My heart rate was in the 112 to 117 range and my pace pushing over 11 minute miles. I knew that I needed to keep under 11 minute miles to have any chance of getting under 16:30 (based on having to run 101 Garmin miles - allowing 1% error) and for no apparent reason (other that John's gentle nudging) I decided that a sub 16:30 was a desirable target afterall and for the next mile I made a conscious effort to up the pace as my heart rate moved into the 120's and my pace dropped into the 10:20s. In this manner I managed to bang out 3 sub 11 minute miles. I was pleasantly surprised relieved to spot a "Clifden 3km" road sign, when I had estimated that I was still 3 miles out.

 

There was a gentle rise on the Road into Clifden which slows me down immediately to a 12 minute mile shuffle, surprised at how quickly my energy levels dropped. I ask John how long it is to the start of my 3 lap countdown - "5 maybe 10 minutes at most" he says. The rise up to the town is very slow although I am comforted by the street lights as they herald the end of my journey - all will be over soon. Denis parks up and waits until I have done one lap of the town to check if anyone is close behind me. I pass the finishing line for the first of 4 times getting high fives and cheers for Ray, Seb and co. (my vision isn't the best) - The finishing clock is all zeros as it is not set up yet. John makes sure I follow a path around the town that doesn't put me in the path of oncoming traffic - eventually we pass Denis, who confirms that the mile behind me is all clear. I shuffle on passing the finishing line again, with 15:56 on the clock. 2 miles to go, with just under 98 miles on the Garmin (sub 16:30 assured) John mentions something about a sub 16:20, but I dismiss him, energy levels are getting very low - John directs me onto a footpath to avoid a car coming from a junction and my mind goes a bit awry as I get disoriented coming off the path again, almost stopping completely, I feel so empty - I ask John for a swig of coke as my thinking is a bit fuzzy - the sugar hit does enough to fire up the control centre and return me to some sort of lucidity, although the engine is still running on fumes. I eventually pass the finish line for the pen-ultimate time to great cheers and while I am fully motivated I can only manage a slow death march. With half a lap to go I hear car horns honking, which I assume heralds Thomas's arrival in town. At last I am shuffling up the last rise, turning the last corner and on the home straight punching the air in delight, the clock showing 16:21:59 with John urging me to make one last dash for a sub 16:22. Home at last, I can stop now - I lean on the barrier and am unsteady on my feet but feel elated. Denis and John are on hand to wrap me in a foil blanket, give me my pre-ordered protein drink and stop me from falling over as I conduct a finish line interview with a woman who purports to be from the Guardian (on-line sports blog) I initially assume the Clifden Guardian but she tells me it's the London version.

 

I am back at the car receiving post race TLC as Thomas passes on his last lap, looking very comfortable having taken 10 minutes out of my lead over the last 18 miles. I suspect that most of those were lost during the last 3 mile shuffle around Clifden, which took nearly 40 minutes to complete (over 13 minute miles). Perhaps if I walked more during the last 14 miles and took on a bit more fuel I may have had a better finish, but not necessarily a better overall time.

I own a huge debt of gratitude to Denis and John for looking after me so well for the entire day, putting up with my rising irritability and making sure I remained in the right place mentally. They are as much winners as I am. 

 

After

Despite my best intentions of hanging around at the finish line and perhaps enjoying a pint in the local pub while cheering on those coming in to finish my crew thought it better to return to the B&B to recover, shower and have a bite to eat, which was the best decision as I wasn't fit to do much. However as Denis and John had no problem falling asleep after a long day on the road I didn't sleep a wink as my legs began the long process of repair, with my heart pumping away to provide the necessary oxygen and remove waste products and my head spinning, reliving the day in full detail as I could now afford to pause and reflect on every twist and turn of the hundred miles I had just run, listening to the light rain fall outside the open window, knowing that there were runners still out on the wet dark roads of Connemara, their journey not yet complete - respect.

 

One of my reasons for signing up for Connemara was to see how far I could push myself, would I descend into a deep abyss, would it break me or would I be able to rise above it. I don't think I ever reached a stage where I touched darkness, except perhaps for my slight wobble at Mile 98, but that was relatively mild in the grand scheme of things. Physically I have been in much worse states at the end of a race - my first sub-3 hour marathon in 2011 and after a 5k race back in 2008 come to mind.

 

Unfortunately, I have had to face a much deeper abyss over the last week. One that will take a long time to climb out of. 5 short weeks ago I visited my younger sister Cliona in hospital a day or two after she was diagnosed with Cancer. I told her about the upcoming race in Connemara and she said how she'd love to go down as she had previously planned on spending a week or two in Letterfrack with her husband and 14 year old son, but had never got around to it. During the race my family had been following my progress on Facebook and telling Cliona how I was doing. When I had finished she was told that I had won, to which she replied "That's Class". That was one of her last lucid moments. She died 5 days later. The strength and dignity she showed over the last few weeks of her life as she organised her affairs and said goodbye to her Husband and Son will stay with me for as long as I live and no Connemara will ever come close to breaking me the way I am now broken. But I will survive and every year when Connemara 100 comes around i'll be reminded of strength and bravery in the face of adversity for more that one reason.