marathon « race the blue line

September 10, 2012 by lyall

Dingle marathon

Dingle ended up being an enjoyable if uninspiring race. Preparation was far from ideal – see previous blog entry! I drove down Friday evening and checked into the hostel. Superb location, just a few hundred metres from the start area. It was a bit lacking in the general comfort stakes, but not catastrophically so. Up at 6am on Saturday morning, through the usual pre-race eating/drinking routine. Completely chilled out for an hour or so beforehand… to the point that I really wasn’t bothered about rocking up to the start line at all. But, rock up I did, along with Michelle and Bridget. The short, slow jog from the hostel provided an ample warm-up. I slid in between a couple of barriers with 5 minutes to go, well back from the front.

I truly had no idea what pace I would be able to hold. I ran what felt comfortable, aided by the knowledge that I’d get completely bored if I tried to run something artificially slow. What felt comfortable happened to be a race average of 7:06 per mile, exactly 30 seconds slower per lap than in Cork. My typical pace was a bit faster than this though; the unrelenting challenges of miles 7, 8, 22 and 23 significantly increased the mean. And this pace felt pretty good. Very comfortable, but still running. The sort of pace where you can just zone out and not worry as the world passes you by.

To the splits:

Mile 1: 7:13
Mile 2: 6:57
Mile 3: 7:15
Mile 4: 7:08
Mile 5: 6:51
Mile 6: 7:01 – mega stuff, felt great and was rattling off very consistent splits considering the undulating course.
Mile 7+8: 14:40 – huge headwind and a nasty climb in these two miles, even missed the mile marker from the concentration.
Mile 9: 7:12 – relief and back to normal running.
Mile 10: 7:06 – first gel around here somewhere.
Mile 11: 6:58 – loving the narrow roads rounding the cliff faces, and the wonderful rugged coastline.
Mile 12: 6:51 – girl holding a flag with “You are beautiful” written on it.
Mile 13: 6:48 – absolutely crushed these last few, despite continuous hills.
Mile 14: 7:11 – slight uphill out of the half-marathon exit point at Dunquin.
Mile 15: 6:52 – rolling along very steadily on one of the flattest parts of the course.
Mile 16: 6:49 – second gel half-way through this, when they finally thought to stick a water station out for us!
Mile 17: 7:14
Mile 18: 6:57
Mile 19: 6:55 – some hugely enjoyable miles here.
Mile 20: 7:11 – third gel, felt like I needed it too, especially knowing the hills to come.
Mile 21: 7:09
Mile 22: 7:58 – hill #1.
Mile 23: 8:02 – hill #2.
Mile 24: 7:06 – back in the game, with a weirdly awkward gait as my legs struggled to recover from the punishing climbs.
Mile 25: 7:02 – solid recovery; flat and straight now, with just a single runner in sight about a half-mile ahead.
Mile 26: 6:54 – with around a mile to go, one of the runners I’d overtaken on the hills had closed in. He was a few yards back from me; I could hear his breathing. But just like in Ballycotton earlier this year, I buried any negative thoughts and snarled to myself that no, this guy was not going to re-pass me. I kept things steady for another few hundred yards – he wasn’t coming level so I knew he was probably at full tilt already. I dropped a gear and ran as hard as I could for the remaining distance, leaving him for dead. Took him clean out, leaving no doubt as to who was finishing first. This was the most satisfying part of the race.
(1:30) – cruising in with a blistering finish.

Stopwatch: 3:06:50

Gun: 3:07:22

Chip: 3:06:48

Place: 12th

Pounding hard towards the finish line.

Good. Good time. Considering. Now I just need to figure out if I’m bothered with this any more.

Tags: Dingle, marathon

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July 8, 2012 by lyall

Cork marathon

Always a fantastic experience, this year the Cork marathon heralded the prospect of my first sub-3 hour time. My preparation had been good, if not exhaustive, and my positive mental frame was absolute. I knew that I would break 3 hours. Not arrogance – just a pure, unqualified belief. It would be my first attempt at the time.

Conditions were perfect. It was sunny at the start but it clouded over about half way through the race, and the temperature never ventured much above the mid-teens. Dry, mild, calm. I wore my racers – recently purchased with a view to improving my 5k times, though I noticed them here much more than at the shorter distance. After many miles of running, I actually noticed that my feet felt light. It was a great feeling – a feeling that there were no excuses, no reasons not to run a good time, no questions or doubts.

Chatting to Mick at the start line.

I started with Mick Rice’s 3-hour pace group. Alongside for the first mile, wedged into the middle of the pack for the second, and a few metres ahead for the third. I felt really comfortable, and after the 3rd mile marker I figured I would tail a lady just ahead who seemed to be going just a fraction faster than the pace group. I think it was Helen Leonard… she finished 5th, just outside 3 hours. ;-( Then from about the 4th mile marker, a male runner pulled me along as we ran stride for stride through the first relay station and along the dual-carriageway at Tivoli towards the Glanmire roundabout. My cousin Monique, husband George and children Alex and Nadia were out to give me a high-five as I passed – local support always helps!

I felt so strong. Thundered down into the Jack Lynch tunnel and stayed steady coming back up and out the far side. Powered through Mahon. As I approached the 10 mile marker I found myself running alongside Ann-Marie Holland, the eventual 4th placed lady. The women were easy to identify as they were obviously high up the female field and so were getting loads of cheers. There were myriad “Come on Ann-Marie!!” shouts. :-) I almost made a quip to her that I should have changed my name to Ann-Marie to get a bit more support myself, but decided against it in the end – she looked too serious.

A little over 15 miles done, pounding along the marina.

I kept chugging along through the second relay changeover, out the Lough Mahon walkway and back in to the 15 mile marker on the marina. I tried picking holes in how I was feeling, but found nothing of significance. The third relay station was phenomenal. I was well up the field of course, and spectators are still enthusiastic in their support when they have only seen a few handfuls of runners go past. I blasted through, getting a few direct shouts of support from Gerry Carthy of GCH and from Iain, who was down photographing, as always.

I ran with a couple of relay runners for a while – down the south link, past Turners cross and out to Togher – but dropped them both by the time we reached the Lough. The support at the Lough was brilliant. Around the 18 mile marker I had started to feel just a little jaded, but I toughed it out mentally, kept the pace steady and after passing through the 19 mile marker, and then the Lough, I felt a new release of energy hit me. (This might also have been the 3rd gel – caffeinated – that I took at the 18 mile water station!) As I loped down Glasheen road I picked off another female runner – 2nd placed Anne Curley. Not sure where I passed the 3rd placed Mary O’Leary. It felt like Anne would run alongside me for a while, but it was wishful thinking. All these runners were running a one or two-minute positive split, whereas I ran a negative split of about one and a half minutes. I was accelerating; they were hanging on.

I let out a guttural growl after climbing strongly up the short incline at Liam Lynch park (just before the right-turn onto Wilton road). The small crowd that was gathered there appreciated it. ;-) The downhill stretch to Dennehy’s Cross was wonderful – just like in 2011, this had been my best ever first 20 miles of a marathon, and I honestly felt amazing. The adrenaline was surging, but I still remained utterly focused. The Model Farm road is a tough slog at the start, so I put the head down and just kept the legs ticking over. Again, the relay station was mesmerising. There weren’t actually that many people there – still too early for most of the final-stage team members I guess. I flung up my arms, gesturing to the crowd, and received an extra cheer for my efforts.

The 1st place lady was in my sights for most of the length of the Model Farm road. I knew she was in 1st place, because I’d heard a marshall murmur at Anne Curley “2nd woman” at the end of the Glasheen road. I was catching her. I lost sight as we turned down by the old Tennis Village and then right onto Inchigaggin lane. Then shortly after I hit the Carrigrohane straight I got this awful feeling of tightness at the back of my right knee. “Ah no” I thought, not now. I ran-hobbled for a couple of hundred metres and thankfully the discomfort subsided. 1st lady back in my sights. I passed the 24 mile marker feeling fine. Really, really tired, but still strong. Focused. Just two more miles, and the possibility of beating the 1st lady.

I gunned it for the remaining distance. Or at least as much as I could… my final few splits weren’t quite supreme, more like ‘steady’. But still, I really dug in mentally. Go for it, just go! Am I about to vomit from the effort? No – so push harder. Just do it, come on, go! Smash out the fastest time possible. This is the race. Doesn’t matter how my legs would feel later that afternoon. Or the next day. Or the next week. This is everything, so do it justice and give everything. I could see 1st lady in the distance as I pounded along the Mardyke, passing the few other marathon runners and relay runners in my vicinity. Catching seemed unlikely in fairness – she was slowing very gradually, and was generally steady.

The last mile of the Cork marathon is wonderful. The 25th mile marker is just on the south side of the river and then the route crosses a pedestrian bridge before following a shaded walkway along by the old distillery. This path emerges onto the north quays for the second half of the 26th mile before making a sharp right-turn across Patrick’s bridge and down Patrick’s street for the final 385 yards. The quays were dotted with spectators and again I received a few direct shouts from relations and friends. Absolutely humming along now, just giving everything to try and catch the first lady. She managed to stay ahead, however, by about 20 seconds. Probably a good thing really – I got my own cheer at the finish, separate to hers. As I crossed the bridge and entered the race finale, the pulsating energy that I felt from the crowd was just amazing. I was absolutely pumped with adrenaline which manifested itself as an angry delight. I remember roaring ‘COME ON’ and punching the air after crossing the finish line. Iain was possibly left with a sore palm after he went for a congratulatory handshake but received a mixture of a handshake, a high-five and a punch to the palm. :-) Two hours, fifty-three minutes and eleven seconds. It was a brilliant feeling. Writing this a month on, I can truthfully say that I’ve never felt like that after any other race. Or maybe ever.

Blistering finish helped by the roar from the crowds.

Boom. Hell yeah.

Some friends were there to greet me – much appreciated Cashy and Pawd. I wandered around the finish area for a while, and applauded the other sub-3 hour runners as they came in, especially the lad who made it by seconds and almost fell over the line as his wobbling legs gave way. Ah, I love seeing that. He wasn’t a comfortable sub-3 at all, but he made it. Think about what had been going through his head at 20 miles, when the race began, or at 23 miles on the mind-numbing Carrigrohane straight. Or at the 25 mile marker, when the time was so tantalisingly within reach but still potentially so elusive. I shook hands with everyone, tried to stretch a little and then hobbled away to recover at home before the drive back to Galway.

Splits:

Mile 1+2: 13:23
Mile 3: 6:57
Mile 4+5: 13:13
Mile 6: 6:24
Mile 7: 6:26
Mile 8: 6:53
Mile 9: 6:37
Mile 10: 6:37
Mile 11: 6:32
Mile 12: 6:46
Mile 13: 6:42
Mile 14: 6:42 (Half in 1:27:16)
Mile 15: 6:27
Mile 16: 6:25
Mile 17: 6:11 – this mile at 2h42m pace, boom!
Mile 18: 6:47
Mile 19: 6:42
Mile 20: 6:30
Mile 21+22: 12:59
Mile 23: 6:20
Mile 24: 6:48
Mile 25: 6:46
Mile 26: 6:47
Finish: 1:18 (Half in 1:25:55)

Stopwatch: 2:53:12

Gun: 2:53:20

Chip: 2:53:11

Place: 21st

Sitting down feels like such a good idea, but only until you need to get up again.

This felt good.

It’s one month on now and I quite happily haven’t run a mile since. :-) Back in action soon though… Dingle marathon looms.

Tags: Cork, marathon, pb

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June 7, 2011 by lyall

Cork City Marathon

Cork marathon – what a great race. Mile splits:

7:02
6:58
7:00
6:51
7:05
6:50
7:09
6:48
7:17
7:06 – ten mile split: 70:06. Predicted finish time was 3:03:48 at this point!
7:01
7:06
7:14
(0:46) – half: 1:32:13
7:16
7:01
7:05
7:08
7:13
7:16
6:57
7:01 – couple of cracking miles at 20 and 21.
7:03
7:03 – down to the mile 23 marker on the Carrigrohane straight.
7:12
7:16
7:08
1:23

Stopwatch 2nd half: 1:33:15 (1:02 positive split)

Stopwatch finish: 3:05:29

Gun: 3:05:40

Official chip time: 3:05:27

Feeling relaxed at the start line.

That was off the back of an inverse taper – no long runs since the Miami marathon (at the end of January) until two weeks ago. In the two weekends before Cork I did 22 and 23.5 mile runs around Dangan. These clearly did the job, along with some intermittent fast-if-I-feel-like-it-on-the-day tempo runs around the Galway racecourse in late April and May.

Definitely an argument for “lack of training is better than over-training”. :-)

I did feel quite rested on the day though, and was able to set off and maintain a very comfortable pace for the whole distance. In fact, a tightening left hamstring kept me in check over the last few miles. Without this I think I could have pushed on with a few sub-7:00′s in the closing stages and maybe dipped in under 3:05. Average pace was just under 7:05 per mile.

A friend of mine, Dave Cashman, caught up to me at the first relay changeover. He was running the first two stages of the relay and we ran the second leg together. (He ended up completing the full marathon in 3:39 off the back of 10 mile training!!) Also at about the five mile mark I found another runner who was spot on my pace. Dave and I hung back about 10-50 metres for all of the second relay leg. I eventually leveled with him on the marina, somewhere in the 16th mile. We then ran shoulder-to-shoulder, very steadily for the next four miles – through the cheering at the third relay changeover, up the steep slip-road to cross the south link, through the quiet southern suburbs, up past the spectator-lined Lough and down Glasheen road. He started to struggle just as we rounded the corner onto Glasheen road at the 20 mile marker, and I kicked on ahead, but warmly shook his hand at the finish line when he came in a couple of minutes after me.

At the end of Glasheen road there is a little detour through a housing estate to come up to the Wilton road – a nasty steep bit that really tests ones metal given the distance covered. After this though there is a lovely gentle decline for a few hundred metres down to Dennehy’s cross and the 21 mile marker, and rounding the corner at the cross I was able to genuinely say to myself that I felt great. Could have been the best I’d ever felt at 21 miles into a marathon. Okay sure, there was still 5 miles to go, my left hamstring was a little tight and from the last relay changeover (approx 22 miles) to the finish I was gritting my teeth and huffing and puffing a little. But I still felt pretty mega all things considered.

Crossing the Lee for the second last time, just after the 25 mile marker. A fair wedge of gritty determination on show, if I do say so myself.

I’d also like to somewhat immodestly point out that most of the runners who finished shortly before and after me had half-way splits of under 1:30, some as low as 1:27. In contrast, I had a very even split and maintained a comfortable, steady pace all the way through. I still ended with a 1 min positive split but this was always likely with a few spikey early miles that skewed my early pace a little. Looking further through the results, negative or close-to-even splits were rare in the top 100 or so. Strange, given that the conditions were perfect for a considered and well-managed race.

Just one more thing, because I know it’ll annoy James Lundon. :-) Weekly mileage since Ballycotton:

March: 6, 24, 28 (incl. 18 miler), 13
April: 4, 0, 41, 40 (incl. Bantry half-mara)
May: 0, 3, 37 (incl. 22 miler), 46 (incl. 23.5 miler)

50k in Portumna on Saturday week, should be interesting!

Tags: Cork, marathon, pb

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February 16, 2011 by lyall

#1 in Cork

It’s either because I entered really early, or they consider me an elite athlete… definitely one of those two possibilities.

(Bah… I managed to kill this link in a web hosting move, and amazingly don’t have the photo I took of my race confirmation letter archived anywhere, but check out the photo in the race report of the 2011 Cork marathon for proof… I got the #1 bib!)

Tags: Cork, marathon

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February 15, 2011 by lyall

Miami!

I only entered the Miami marathon on an impulse, after seeing their stall at the Chicago marathon expo last October. Having sat on the entry for a couple of months – with no flights or accommodation booked until Christmas – I ended up turning it into a pretty solid 10-day holiday in the sun. Florida in January? Absolutely brilliant.

The marathon started in the dark at 6:20am. Dawn came only after about 3 or 4 miles of running. The rest of the race was actually quite similar to my experience in Chicago. I felt great until about 17 or 18 miles with a half-marathon split of just outside 7:00 pace, or a target finish time of around the 3:06 mark. Then things started to get tough in the leafy southern suburbs – but I kept going and maintained a steady pace. A PB was still a faint hope after 20 miles but with the legs caving in and another 6 miles to go (including an out-and-back section, one mile each way, along a shade-less causeway to make up miles 23 and 24) there was only one way my race was going.

Splits and comments…

7:18
6:22 – downhill and general start-of-race exuberance… and also, a quite speedy, pretty-in-a-pink-top, young lady runner padded along beside me for a few moments, and I inadvertently got pulled along following her for half a mile. :-)
7:19
6:43 – no particular reason for the speediness here, just running with the crowd.
6:53
7:24 – had to consciously back off a bit from the sub-7 pace.
7:19
7:12
7:11
7:12 – three super miles, bang on the money for target pacing.
6:59 – this one included the course “cheering station” and I think the 10 seconds gained in this mile is directly attributable to this spectator-lined stretch. It’s hard not to run a little faster hearing all those crazy Americans cheering wildly!
7:09
7:07 – broke from the half-marathon runners having felt really solid all the way to here.
(0:45 – half: 1:32:53)
7:01
7:00
7:10 – still going strong, stomach cramping a bit though, definitely had too much pasta the night before, directly before going to bed.
7:48 – wee break, but still going okay.
7:09 – encouraging resumption, but my legs were getting a bit creaky…
7:14 – the last good mile, starting to feel that wall looming ahead of me.
7:20 – 20m, time still okay, but I knew the PB chance was fading. Started walking through each water station, taking 10 seconds to get fluids.
7:24
7:50 – knew it for sure after this split, began to really feel the legs.
7:29 – out the causeway, still hanging on.
8:20 – back in the causeway, began to feel like slowing to a walk but just about kept jogging the whole time – felt like I was going much slower than this.
8:50 – suffering and just wanted to finish.
8:03 – had a great moment at the mile 25 marker where I said to myself: “f**k sake come on, get it done” etc. And then I actually started to run a bit more freely for the last mile, instead of slowing further. Made me wonder how bad I really was, or whether my mind had given up sooner than my body.
1:40

Finish: 3:12:26 (chipped at 3:12:25)

131st overall

120th male

25th in 25-29 age category

The only person with country = IRL in the race results!

http://results.active.com/pages/searchform.jsp?rsID=105310

On reflection, I can’t take too much from the race: no PB, no even pacing, no negative split or strong finish. But I am glad that I was able to regain some mental strength at the mile 25 marker. I had begun to give up during the 25th mile, knowing that the time was lost, but I really dug in for the last one and ran through the stiffening legs.

Pleasant course. Very flat. Most of the first half was around Miami beach and was quite scenic when crossing the link causeways back to Miami itself. Second half was quiet, the half-marathon runners were gone and the spectators dwindled to almost nothing. Overall spectator numbers were about the same as in Dublin, actually probably less, so it was a far cry from the roaring din of support in Chicago. There were a few miles through some leafy suburbs which were pleasant (but where I started to feel pain too). There was also a section where half of mile 22 and half of mile 16 ran parallel to each other, in opposite directions, on the same stretch of road. I saw the 2^ndplaced runner heading for home when I was on mile 16, and then saw the 4+ hour masses on my way back.

Did I mention that Florida in January is a ridiculously good place to be? After the marathon I chilled out in the state park in Key Biscayne, an island just off the coast of south Miami. For the rest of the holiday, I headed off down to the Florida keys, all the way to Key West. This is the southernmost point in the USA and seems to be a party town all year round. Monday night at the start of February? Full venues everywhere. After that it was back up through the Everglades, up through Fort Myers and Tampa and finishing off in Disney World near Orlando. Also took a trip out to the Kennedy Space Center at Cape Canaveral at the start of the trip, a couple of days before the marathon.

Miami marathon – sweet excuse to chill out in Florida, and not a bad race to boot.

Tags: holiday, marathon, Miami

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December 15, 2010 by lyall

Recent races – just the splits

Dublin City Marathon

Ran with Valerie Glavin for the first 11 miles or so, then pulled ahead with some consistent miles at close to 7 minute pace. Rock solid up to 23 miles, then suffered a step change (downwards!) in stamina.

13:46 – quick opening pair.
7:12
7:20
6:52 – mile 5
7:20
7:04
7:11
14:14 – trying to hold it at 7:10 but fluctuating quite a bit, mile 9 & 10 with 7:07 average.
7:12
7:21
7:09 – pulled ahead of Val, running on the shoulder of another runner.
6:58
7:07 – mile 15, shoulder to shoulder with the other guy.
7:03
7:14
14:09 – kept missing the mile markers!
21:29 – up to mile 22; my anonymous companion started to ease ahead a little after mile 21 but I was still feeling okay…
7:04 – … as evidenced here!
7:49 – but here comes the crash.
7:38 – picked up a discarded half-full bottle of Powerade which gave me a little spurt for this one.
8:04 – with the sub-3:10 fairly safe, please just let the finish line come…
1:46

Finish: 3:09:00

Corofin 8k

Pretty solid new 8k personal best…

3:39
3:42
3:55
3:44
3:48
3:47
3:57 – the only shocker. No excuse, I just lost concentration. Could have broken 30 minutes.
3:40 – gave it all but I wasn’t exactly dead crossing the finish line.

Finish: 30:12

West of Ireland marathon

8am on Saturday 4th December. Four and three-quarter loops of a foggy, icy Salthill. The first loop was the short one – we started pretty slowly. :-)

40.34
40.42
40.27
40.23
39.28 – Included a brief toilet stop AND I got knocked down (as in, fully sprawled out on the ground with bloody cuts to my knee and elbow) by an over-enthusiastic dog at approximately 25.8 miles, so I was fairly happy with the strong finish!!

Finish: 3:21:34

Tags: Corofin, Dublin, marathon, pb

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October 16, 2010 by lyall

Smash ‘n grab in Chicago

Get in, run a marathon, get out, in 51 hours…

It all became a bit surreal on Friday morning. I stopped by work for a few minutes and it felt like I should be putting in a normal working day. Instead I headed back out to the car, with a packed Athenry AC gear bag beside me on the passenger seat. 2 hours and 10 minutes later I was pulling into a space in the long-term car park at Dublin airport. Check-in, departure gate, customs check. In the air at 1:10pm.

I met my female co-winner, Sinead Barry, on the plane. We chatted easily for a while. 40 marathons completed between us – of which I am by far the junior partner – meant that we had plenty in common. Although, I think any two runners with a bit of experience can probably talk for hours on end!

The plan at this point was to stay on Irish time for the whole weekend. It would suit the marathon on Sunday morning: 7:30am start, so waking up around 2/3/4am would be quite beneficial.

Chicago is a city of about 3 million people, stretching to 10 million when the wider metropolitan area is included. It was rebuilt virtually from scratch after the Great Chicago Fire of 1871. It is typical American city, pristine grid layout, and every building seems to be at least 30 stories high. They are fairly on the ball with public transport and keeping the streets clean. First impressions were pretty good. We stayed in the Chicago ULC (Union League Club). Great hotel. Room was nice, bed was super-comfy, staff were friendly and breakfast on Saturday morning was delicious!

Staying on Irish time worked out well. We were in bed at 3am (9pm local) on Friday night, having strolled around for a few hours in the early Chicago evening. I got up at 10am (4am local) and went for a 1h45 jog-walk around the nearby streets, finishing up at the McCormick convention center that was housing the race Expo. Then I headed back to the hotel for a shower and a chillout in the room. The jog was a poor enough decision – I must have covered 9 or 10 miles, which is really a bit silly the day before a marathon. It’s just that I had not run in 9 days previous because of a cold/cough, so once I was running I felt like staying out there. Also, I stumbled upon the Finish line of the race. At 5am with no one around, jogging under the gantry was very cool indeed. After breakfast in the hotel, we walked the 3+ miles back to the Expo, collected our stuff, bought a few gels and other goodies, wandered around a bit more and then walked back. Or in other words, the guts of another 9 or 10 miles… We gladly hopped on a city tour bus for a few hours, our legs needed the rest. I had a bite to eat in the hotel after, then we met up for a quick pre-race planning session. Bed around 2:30am Irish time, 8:30pm local.

Race morning in the hotel

Up at 4am. All eating done by 5am. A few light stretches, plenty of fluids, then down to the lobby to meet Sinead at 6am. I was buzzing as we walked the short distance to the start line. We dropped the gear bags, used the lavatory several times, and filtered up to the front of the ‘B’ start corral. They played the American national anthem and I felt more inspired than any time I’ve heard Amhrán na bhFiann before an Irish sporting event. It was that sort of atmosphere, that level of energy. Spectators thronged the footpaths of the opening miles. They cheered and cheered, howling and yelling and applauding, urging us on. I could have been starting into mile 27 of an Ultra and would still have felt great with this level of enthusiasm all around. The buzz and adrenaline surge from the crowds was intense. I couldn’t stop smiling and laughing as I ran comfortably with the crowd.

Going well in the opening miles

I ran quickly the first few – averaging around 7 min/mile – and caught up to the 3:10 pacers from the ‘A’ corral. I stayed with them for a mile or two but then found myself inching ahead. My legs were feeling a little ‘grainy’ (like eyes that need sleep) but I was so comfortable tipping along at about 7:05 pace that I tried to stay positive. We passed through all different neighbourhoods. Most memorable sights were some lads with umbrellas dancing in tandem (leaving little to the imagination) and an Elvis that swooned us with a brief melody.

Hopping along through Greektown

After 9 or 10 miles things were still going great and I found myself following a tall guy with a Denmark singlet. He had a big loping stride and ran close to the edge of the crowd. I could see that, like myself, he was loving the atmosphere. Every corner we rounded he would run wide, beckoning the spectators to cheer us on a little more. A few metres behind him, I started doing the same. He began to fade around 15 miles and I passed him, but I kept repeating his action of motioning to the crowd at the corners. It was a huge lift each time. Not only were they all momentarily cheering extra loudly for me (specifically) but it also meant that all runners were getting an extra boost. Sadly for the Denmark lad, he never re-passed me, so he must have dealt with the increasing temperatures much worse than I did…

… For deal with them I did not. With about 2 hours and over 17 miles of running done, I started to crash and burn. That early fatigue in my legs began to intensify. The 20 miles covered yesterday was coming back to haunt me. But this was not the biggest problem. The temperature by 9:30am was 88 degrees (I saw this on a sign above a shop) and Sinead told me that she saw it read 90 degrees when she would have passed it a few minutes later. That’s 32 degrees celcius and it felt every bit of it. We had some shade from buildings but it was still really hot. I struggled for the next couple of miles. The 3:10 pace group caught up and passed me some time after 18 miles. This was tough to take psychologically and it took until about mile 21 for me to accept that my race was over. After this it was just a matter of getting home in one piece. I was now walking the full length of every water station, taking on one cup of Gatorade and at least 3 or 4 cups of water each time. People with hoses appeared regularly, to spray us with water, and I availed of every one.

Struggling home

This was tough. My previous six marathons were all negative splits and brilliant sensations at the finish. Now here I was in one of the biggest marathons in the world, one of the five marathon majors, with Sammy Wanjiru up front winning in 2:06 something, unbelievable atmosphere, a super first couple of hours of running under my belt… and now a really really tough last third to complete. It’s been over two years since I’ve been forced to walk in a marathon. But after about 22 miles it wasn’t just the water stations that I was walking through. For 30 second (up to 1 minute) intervals I just had to stop running. Just couldn’t maintain that level of momentum. I kept moving the whole time and broke back into a jog as soon as I could. But I was constantly wishing for the next water station, both to get the water, and to give me an excuse to walk. Sometime after 23 miles I looked at my watch and saw 3 hours tick over. It felt like it was going to take forever to get to the finish. It did. I had a truly horrible 23rd mile where I had to stretch out my calf muscles briefly and walked intermittently for large sections. However, at the 24 mile marker I resolved not to walk outside of the water stations, so for the rest of the distance I dug deep and kept shuffling. The crowd helped immensely and some of the shouts, combined with how my body was feeling, brought tears to my eyes in the last couple of miles.

Benny from Mountbellew passed me at around 22 miles. He finished in 3:22. He’s been living in San Francisco for the last 9 years and we had a quick chat before the start of the race after he saw my Athenry AC singlet. Sinead passed me with about 400 metres to go. She would have been around 10 minutes behind me at one point, and while she also crashed and burned in the last third, she did so to a lesser extent than I did… :-)

Sinead takes me down at the finish

Times from my watch.

Finish: 3:27:29.

Half: 1:32:28 (1:55:01).

Yes, that’s a positive split of over 22 minutes. :-/ Splits below. As has by now become a habit for me, I never checked my pacing during the race, choosing to run what felt comfortable.

7:10 – Free running after a few hundred metres.
7:00
7:00
7:00
7:01 – Mile 5, soooo steady all the way.
7:16 – I think this is where the 3:10 pace group slowed me down a little!!
7:05
7:01
6:59
6:59
7:02
7:01 – This pacing was mostly my own work, so pretty happy with that…!
7:10 – Probably the most enjoyable half-marathon I have ever run.
(0:44 to 1:32:28 half)
7:05
7:07 – Still feeling great at 15 miles.
7:14
7:30 – Starting to feel the legs.
7:42
7:45
8:16 – Mile 20, still moving but really tired.
8:25
8:15 – Mile 22… I remember seeing a couple of 3:10 and 3:00 “pacers” pass by, and although I knew they were also struggling, I resolved to follow them for a bit, before giving up the ghost again at the end of the mile.
10:07
13:06 – Yikes.
10:11
10:51 – What a struggle. Even with the finish line just around the last corner, still all I wanted to do was stop right where I was.
2:11 – Done. Complete. Finished.

Chip time splits from the Chicago marathon website.

We grabbed our medals, food and water, and chilled out in the park. This involved a bit of chat, a bit of stretching, and also a bit of staring blankly at other runners and blowing our cheeks out, and generally going through the act of being absolutely shot to pieces.

Quotes and highlights.

[To self, determined, moving from shuffle to a proper run, 5m before start line] “Let’s go!!”

[Signs held by spectators along course]
- “Some day you will no longer be able to do this. Today is not that day.”
- “Run you Bitches” (multiple signs at various points)
- “High-five me if you like running” (on a giant plastic hand, around 22 miles… I high-fived it)
- “Boxers or briefs?” (I shouted briefs, which is true for races because of my skimpy race shorts, but not true in general… TMI??)
- “Free hugs” (did not avail)
- “Free beer at 19 miles” (did not avail)
- “Free tequila at 25 miles” (these were jello shots! … did not avail)

[Approx 24 miles, I am forced to slow to a walk briefly. Some spectator, sees name on my bib] “Come on Lyall, keep going, almost there.”

[I start back into a pained shuffle, saluting him with a wave]

[More excited] “Yeah!! That’s it Lyall, do it man, never give up.”

[Water station at 25 miles, I stop and let two guys with hoses spray me for about 10 secs... me, laughter bubbling into my voice from the thrill of the cold water spray] “Thanks..!”

[After race, we've showered and changed, on the subway... some guy sees my medal]

“Hey man did you run the marathon?”

“Yeah”

“And now you’re just on the train, eating a banana… that’s your thing?”

“Yeah we’re doing a bit of sightseeing, walking around a bit after the run helps the legs”

“So what are you doing on the train… you should be up top walking!”

:-)

Closing comments…

Running in a marathon of this scale was a remarkable experience and I think every marathon runner should try to do it at least once. Especially in a city like Chicago. Apart from being a wonderful tourist destination, the city is also gripped by marathon fever for the weekend. The crowds in Dublin are fantastic but Chicago claims 1.7 million spectators. I believe it.

Plus the weather is feckin’ fantastic there in October!!

Finally, a huge thanks to Paul and Richard Donovan from the Galway City marathon for the trip. Kind of a crazy prize to give out for the inaugural running of the race, but I’m not complaining!

Tags: Chicago, marathon, pain

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• • • • •

November 27, 2009 by lyall

Dublin marathon

I had a niggling Achilles’ tendon injury coming into Dublin but it was never going to be an issue on race day. Otherwise, I had rested up the last couple of weeks, ate loads, got a decent night’s sleep on Sunday night and felt good on the morning of 26th October. Met up with the Athenry crew the night before for dinner, and then before the race for a few group photos.

Trotted off to the start line. The race numbers were colour-coded so that all sub-3:30 hour runners were allowed up to the front, and slower runners were not. Great idea! As a result, I was only about 25 seconds behind the start line.

Mile 1: 7:32. Not quite free running, but the race day euphoria propelled me ahead from the off.

Mile 2: 8:26. Purposefully slowed down because I thought my first mile was way to fast.

Mile 3: 7:47. Realised that I was more comfortable going a bit faster than mile 2.

Mile 4+5: 15:30. First of many mile markers I missed. This was a 7:45 average in a stretch where I had to make a quick pitstop through a fence in the Phoenix park. I was a bit angry with myself for needing this, but I sprinted to and from the fence and evidently didn’t lose any real time.

Mile 6: 7:47 (10k split – 48:36). Pretty solid…

Mile 7: 7:40. Same again. The park was very steady running.

Mile 8: 7:47. Last mile in the park (I think).

Mile 9+10: 14:53. Unwittingly picked up the pace a bit. A combined 7:27 and 7:26 on average. Sometime in mile 9 I passed Peter Ferris who was “pitstopping” while running – legend!

Mile 11+12: 15:28. Kept it steady.

Mile 13: 7:52 (10k split – 47:38). A little slower but nothing to worry about, and a very consistent 20k split compared to the 10k split, particularly if you note that mile 2 was needlessly slower than the average by about a minute.

Half-marathon split – 1:41:42. Feeling very strong and fairly optimistic about a negative split, and definitely a sub 3:24. A little apprehension was trying to creep in though. Last time I ran 1:41 in the first half of a marathon I ran 2:16 on the way back. =)

Mile 14: 7:40. Back into a nice, solid rhythm.

Mile 15: 7:42. More of the same.

Mile 16: 7:22. Best mile so far. I don’t remember any of these miles though. I had kinda switched off. A few sporadic images is all that my memory can conjure up – rounding certain corners, gliding over some speed ramps, the odd shout of “well done Athenry”, and Valerie (around mile 20 I think) giving me a loud cheer.

Mile 17: 7:36. Sucking that average pace closer to sub 7:40…

Mile 18+19: 14:51 (10k split – 46:44). More inroads on the average pace, with a 7:25 and a 7:26 (or thereabouts). Almost a minute better than the previous 10k as well.

Mile 20: 7:32. More strong, steady miles. A memory from this mile is the left hamstring feeling slightly tight, but it was only a brief worry and disappeared by the next marker.

Mile 21+22: 14:43. What’s that, let me see… a 7:21 and 7:22. Though I wasn’t doing the math during the run, another big negative split was clearly on the cards.

Mile 23: 7:11. This one just felt brilliant. My legs felt great, all the more so because I knew they shouldn’t by mile 23. :-)

Mile 24: 7:47. Okay, the 7:11 took a little out of me, but the average stayed pretty constant, and I re-doubled my efforts after this to keep the average from straying above 7:40 again.

Mile 25: 7:24 (10k split – 46:31). Another few seconds inside the previous 10k split and another strong mile.

Mile 26: 7:27. Thoughts of the finish started crashing down on my brain, which was fairly deadened at this stage to most other stimuli. It’s a familiar feeling by now – I know that if the race had been 30 miles, or whatever, I’d still have run this one in 7:27 or so, but probably much more comfortably than I did. The knowledge that I was on the final straight made me feel like I was pushing it and giving it everything I had left, when in reality I just churned out another good mile.

Finish: 1:27. Good strong finish.

Half-marathon split – 1:37:42

Total: 3:19:24

In fairness, I was in bits at the end, but looking back I definitely had another couple of minutes in me. Mile 2 was just silly, as was the toilet break in mile 5, and a negative split of almost 4 minutes is certainly suggestive of unused potential in the first half. Nevertheless, I was absolutely delighted with the time. After my first few marathons I thought a sub 3:20 was impossible with the training effort I was willing to put in. Some long miles and a few “training” marathons over the summer, however, put me in great shape. I feel pretty confident of a 3:15 or a 3:10 next year. A 3:10 on home soil in the Cork marathon would be pretty awesome. Two 1:35 half marathons… 7:15 per mile. We’ll see.

Connemara Ultra is next!

Tags: Dublin, marathon, pb

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• • • • •

October 12, 2009 by lyall

Mission Accomplished

The run started on the prom across the road from the Galway Bay Hotel, went out the coast road for 13.1 miles, and back again. The previous Sunday I had run the Cork-Cobh 15 mile race in 1:42:45. Mid-week I completed just one training run – 10 miles around Dangan on Thursday evening. I felt good after that, and my dodgy Achilles’ also felt good all week. Saturday morning… I felt pretty good! I hadn’t really thought about the run during the week, being pre-occupied with badminton clubs and teams and registrations and all the usual bickering and controversy that surrounds the sport locally. So when I walked into the hotel to collect my number at 9:40am I didn’t really know what sort of time I was targeting. “Two weeks to Dublin” was in the back of my mind and I wanted to save myself for an attempt at a sub 3:30 there. But in the bathroom about 10 minutes before the start, a fellow Summer-Series runner named Conor told me I should be “well capable” of going sub 3:30 on the day. We had both run the first of this marathon series back in July where I passed him with a few miles to go while running close to a 10 minute negative split on my way to a new PB of 3:38. Mmmmm… I told him I hadn’t covered enough miles, that I didn’t have the distance done in training, that I’d been going badly the last few weeks (all true!). He rubbished it all. So was a sub 3:30 on the cards?

Lined up on the prom

Ray thanked the hotel for their support during the series and there were a few photos taken. Down to the prom and off to a steady pace. It’s been a long time since I started a race running at 8 minutes per mile, so I wasn’t certain of the pace, but a handful of us made it to Barna with Conor’s Garmin indicating this pace exactly. Shortly after this Conor and John (sorry I don’t know surnames!) dropped back as Dave and I surged forth. Dave set the pace for a couple of miles. I ran beside him through Furbo and we chatted a bit. I took my first gel at the top of the hill out of Furbo – thanks to Bid for once again riding bike support and supplying me during the run! By Spiddal I had gone a few strides ahead while maintaining a very steady pace. Dave stayed with me until probably mile 11 or so when I started to pull ahead. Some more solid running brought the half-way point into view – a jeep parked on the side of the road. :-) I took my second gel and grabbed water from the sole supply station on the course. I was about two or three minutes behind the two leaders – Denis and Aaron (winner of last week’s Galway Bay marathon with a 3:05, he went on to win this race also with a 3:16). Dave was another minute or so behind me.

Spiddal at 9 miles

My half way split was 1:45:24 – spot on for a 3:30 finish. I was particularly happy with it because I felt like I had been running to 8:00 minute pace the whole time, but with the lack of mile markers I had no way of confirming this. I was, however, slightly concerned about my legs. From around mile 10 or 11 they had started to feel just a little tired. No real problem yet of course, but I remember experiencing a similar feeling at the 12 mile point in the Cork marathon earlier this year. In that race, I maintained a solid pace until 19 miles, after which my legs died a death and I slowed to 10+ minutes per mile. I fought to put such negative thoughts out of my mind and ploughed on at what I thought was a steady pace.

Soon enough I was back into Spiddal with about 17 miles completed. The tiredness was edging to the fore but Spiddal marked what I consider to be the key point in the marathon. I took another gel from Bid and washed it down over the next four miles with 500ml of Lucozade Sport. These four miles were tough. I passed Denis around mile 19 but we could offer little encouragement to each other – both were struggling. I kept going, the legs kept churning out a steady pace and the miles ticked over. I gave Bid instructions for the next pit-stop. Gel at the Connemara Coast hotel and the final water bottle as soon as she could catch me up thereafter. She cycled ahead as I went through Furbo village (about 6.5 to go). By now I was glancing at my watch, wondering if the 3:30 was still on. The legs felt poor enough but I was going steady and the gel/energy drink had picked me up. A good time at the Coast (approx 5.2 miles to go) would lift me no end. I snatched the gel from Bid’s outstretched hand while trying to do some calculations in my head. 5.2 times 8 was never so hard… but my total time was only 2:46. Surely I couldn’t be going faster now than in the first half?

Last gel at the Coast, thanks Bid!

The last five miles were unpleasant. I’ll be very clear – my stomach got queasy. I’m not sure if it was the gels or the lucozade (and I’ve used this exact supply strategy before with no problems) but I almost considered stopping a couple of times. But Peter Ferris I am not and I kept going through the discomfort. I saw the sign for Barna as I started on the long straight into the village. On the way out earlier, Conor had mentioned that we’d covered 3.2 miles going through the crossroads in Barna village. Three more feckin miles, but just as I was approaching the lights I got a surge of energy – I looked at my watch and saw 3:02. This was it. It was happening. I could all but collapse for the last three miles and still come in under 3:30. My stomach was a mess, my legs were tired, every gentle uphill elicited a curse or a groan, but there was no way I was collapsing now. I struggled along with a jumbled mass of “positive-thought” clichés doing the rounds inside my head. I couldn’t really think straight and was just longing for that last and only junction of the course that would signal a mile to go. It came, my watch showed 3:18 or so and I grunted with relief. Teeth gritted, I climbed the last hill up to the camping park. Half a mile to go and it was all downhill and flat. Running the final stretch along the prom was surreal. It felt like I was sprinting. My breath was loud and ragged. To the dozens of walkers ambling along I must have been a strange sight. I was gasping for air as the finish line appeared. With my right hand in a fist I punched the air a couple of times. Watch stopped. 3:26:45.

Pre-finish delight

A huge PB by over 11 minutes!

Post-finish... crash. This is no exaggeration, I felt this bad!

Tea, soup and a sandwich in the hotel were very welcome.

First half: 1:45:24
Second half: 1:41:21
Total: 3:26:45
Official time: 3:26:42

Today, two days later, I feel grand. No stiffness. No pain. I was absolutely shattered on Saturday, and fairly tired all of Sunday, but that was it. Mission accomplished, and the pressure is off for Dublin… though I guess I’ll have to run another 3:30 to be happy now.

Tags: coast road, marathon, pb

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• • • • •

September 14, 2009 by lyall

Dingle marathon

A slog of a half-marathon in Ballybofey last weekend left me with a twangy glute and a stiff Achilles’ tendon. Just one run mid-week seemed sensible. It was a 10.5 miler on Wednesday, really slow. However, for the last two or three miles, and after, my Achilles totally blew up. There was pain every time my right heel lifted off the ground. After struggling home, merely walking around the house and going up and down the stairs resulted in every footfall being accompanied by a sharp intake of breath. The next two days didn’t see matters improve noticeably. Starting the drive south on Friday afternoon, I wasn’t particularly confident of finishing. I was trying to ingrain the thought in my mind that pulling out of the race was a much better idea than completely rupturing the tendon. Two nurofen tablets on Friday night, and two more on Saturday morning at 7am was a last ditch effort at dulling the needles in my heel.

Strangely, I felt okay on the start line. The Achilles pain was indeed dulled that morning. ‘No heroics’ was the order of the day, as with recent marathons over the summer. I took off at 9am, maintaining a steady 8:40-ish average for the first 8 miles. Pacing was good, and was only slightly affected by the rolling terrain. A blissfully clear sky promised a warm autumn day ahead, but for now the air was still cool and mild. Perfect conditions.

After 8 miles, and with my first gel consumed and starting to take effect, I started to feel like this pace was a little beneath me, so easy was my breathing. This notion was enhanced by the huffing and puffing half-marathoners all around me. I know I shouldn’t let such things affect my planned pace, but even ignoring the egotism, I still felt like I could afford to go a little quicker. I chatted a bit with a GCH half runner a little after the 9 mile marker, and although he pulled away from me after a few minutes, I was now starting to churn out a good rhythm and for miles 9, 10 and 11 I averaged about 8:12. Then we hit probably the toughest hill so far in mile 12 where I re-passed GCH and a horde of others. I slowed a little to an 8:21 for that one but 13 was mostly downhill into Dun Chaoin and I hit a 7:56.

This set the tone for the second half of the race, as the crowds dwindled to just the full distance runners, and there was always just one or two ahead of me on the road. “Time to fly” I muttered to myself as I immediately took out two or three runners struggling up the hill in mile 14. Passed an Inishowen runner half way into mile 15 who wished me and my Athenry singlet luck. The Achilles had by now ceased to be a worry – it had been a dull sensation for brief moments during the run, but for the most part had died down completely. I picked up a banana and energy drink a little after 15 miles. Mile 14 had slowed me a little going up the hill but mile 15 and 16 were right on the money: 8:00 and 8:00. From the mile 14 marker to the mile 21 marker it was remarkably easy to maintain a steady pace. The second half of the course was virtually flat, at least in contrast to the continuous ascents and descents of the first half. So I churned out a few more solid miles, averaging around 8:00.

My half-way split was 1:50:54, so with an approximate 8:00 average in the second half I was looking at a 3:36 overall. This would have gone over 2 minutes inside my PB – very pleasing considering my Achilles’ tendon worries beforehand, not to mention the course difficulty. The problem was that I had heard that there was something of a hill towards the end, around mile 22. We passed a water station just after mile 21 where we turned up a little boreen that could just about fit a (narrow) car. I took my 4th and final gel with the water. The incline of the boreen started to increase. I posted an 8:29 to the mile 22 marker, all uphill running. Breath was quicker now. Then the slope changed dramatically – it became a bloody cliff. Breath absolutely frantic. I – will – not – walk! A similar thought to my first outing on the Connemara marathon “hell of the west” finale. No matter what, I would not let that hill in Galway beat me down to a walk, and I was determined to come away with the same achievement here. A month and a half previously though I had run up the hell of the west at 7:40 pace having covered the full marathon course to that point. With this hill in Dingle there was simply nothing I could physically do – movement was down to the bare minimum. I was still passing people that were walking, right to the very top, but I wasn’t running, jogging or even shuffling… plodding perhaps? It was insanely steep. I let out a few growls of relief and satisfaction after reaching the summit, which the small crowd at the top seemed to appreciate – I got a few extra loud cheers for my efforts. Turning back onto the main road, there was still another mile of uphill running to complete, but nothing like the severity of the boreen.

That hill, that awful hill, added almost 2 minutes to my time: I ran mile 23 in 9:56. Coming off six or seven miles of an 8:00 average, it destroyed my time. Mile 24 was gloriously downhill, but there was no way I was ever going to come up with a 6:04 to balance the previous split. Nevertheless, I just edged out my previous “best lap” thus far with a free-flowing 7:45. Mile 25 and 26 were flat, so it was just a matter of putting the head down and trying to finish as strongly as possible. I glanced at my watch for my overall race time – 3:20:56. My brain was mush but I figured that I needed to target two more 7:45′s (3:36:30 or so) and a solid finish (1:50) to beat my previous marathon PB of 3:38:23.

The first mile of the last two miles was a 7:58. Agh. I needed some downhill to help me along but I knew there was none – the last two miles were on a dead straight, dead flat road, all fully visible ahead of us. I re-doubled my efforts for mile 26 and kept passing runner after runner. Just at the end of this mile there was about 100 metres of a mild incline. Normally it would have gone all but unnoticed, but at this point in this race, with that number of hours, minutes and seconds tallied up on my watch, it nearly killed me mentally. This was going down to the wire, and as if the 9:56 in mile 23 wasn’t enough, now I had to cope with this pathetic 100 metres trying to rob me of a PB. I crested the wave of the little hill, turned the second last corner of the course and finished mile 26 with a 7:42.

No more math now. No more thought. I was way, way, way beyond my comfort zone and loving every second. I rounded the last corner and the finish gantry came into view. Glanced at the watch, which had just ticked over into 3:38 territory. Grrraaaaagggghhh. Snarling and growling, I gave everything I had left, to be able to take a final split of less than 23 seconds past the 38th minute.

I passed the line. I stopped the watch. I looked.

21 seconds.

YEEEEAAAAAHHHH.

… … …

Recovery took a while.

… … …

I was absolutely wrecked in the immediate aftermath, but happy with the thought that nobody had passed me in the entire second half of the race. Another solid negative split. I wandered around the finish area for a while, shaking hands with runners coming in after me that I had passed. I collected my t-shirt and goodie bag. I stood towards the back of the finish area, still quivering and shaking. I crouched down to the ground. I stood up again. I threw my head back and stared at the sky, gurgling a half-laughing, half-crying sound. Twenty-six-point-two miles, over three hours and thirty-eight minutes on the road, and I set a marathon personal best by two whole seconds. No other person in the world would have felt quite the same way clocking that final 21 seconds on their watch at the end.

Mile splits:

8:42
8:32
8:33
8:46
8:38
8:48
8:44
8:37 – very steady pacing to here – I’ll put the variations down to the rolling up’s and down’s.
8:17
8:10
8:08 – kicked a bit for these three after becoming a little impatient.
8:21 – same effort, just a nasty uphill.
7:56
8:25 – buses laden with half-marathoners started passing us, taking those runners back to Dingle, and I realised I was delighted not to be there with them.
8:00
8:00
8:16
7:48
7:46
8:14
8:06 – seven miles of solid, solid running.
8:29 – oh yes, getting tough.
9:56 – “that hill”.
7:45 – flying again.
7:58
7:42 – head down, pure determination.
1:44 – gave everything.

Total: 3:38:21

A few hours later, I received a text confirming I had finished in 49th position, with a race time of 3:38:53 and a chip time of 3:38:18. Good grief, a PB by five seconds. What was all the fuss about.

I waited on for a couple of hours for Jerry Forde to come home. He was the only wheelchair participant and crossed the finish line in 5 hours 52 minutes. I can barely imagine how he got up that hill in mile 23.

Race feedback points:

Wonderful course. Not one for a PB normally because of the difficulty, but stunning scenery all the way. Beats Connemara hands down in this respect.
Top-notch supply stations. They were bang on every 3 miles, and from 15 onwards each one had both water and energy drinks, with bananas at a couple of them as well (peeled and chopped in half). There were 1600 half-marathoners and only 400 full distance runners, but the organisers still looked after us well.
For once, I would have appreciated a massage tent at the end, but unfortunately there was none (a minor complaint).
Entry fee, like most marathons these days was steep at €70. Admittedly it was €60 if I’d entered before August, but then that’s another bone of contention I have to pick… I see no justification in hiking the entry fee for late entries. Just have one price, a cut-off date, and leave it at that. Oh, and Longford is only €45 for a full marathon, and they give you an amazing post-race meal.
Local support was brilliant. The route is rural and remote, but not to the extent of Connemara and is reasonably well populated all the way. It was also rewarding to hear a few shouts of “an-mhaith” around the hardcore Gaeltacht area of Ballyferriter.
Weather was superb. :-)
T-shirt is long-sleeved and quite nice!

I think I’ll return for this one next year. Particularly with the early entry fee reduced to €50!

Tags: Achilles, Dingle, marathon, pb

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• • • • •

Dingle marathon

Cork marathon

Cork City Marathon

#1 in Cork

Miami!

Recent races – just the splits

Dublin City Marathon

Corofin 8k

West of Ireland marathon

Smash ‘n grab in Chicago

Times from my watch.

Quotes and highlights.

Closing comments…

Dublin marathon

Mission Accomplished

Dingle marathon

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