It's a long way from Carlingford...

Last night it was a struggle to get out of the clutches of the city's rush hour traffic. By 5pm I had to be 75 miles away in Carlingford for a weeding and it wasn't looking good as I crawled along Dublin's orbital motorway at a snails pace and it was already well past 4pm.

We finally arrived at the seaside town and checked into our hotel and I use that term in the broadest sense of the word. It reminded me of a DIY project that went horribly wrong. The hotel consisted of a series of individual rooms running along the length of a driveway, each with large sliding doors to the front that opened straight into the bedroom. The bathroom, again accessed via a sliding door, reminded me of an apartment that I'm sure we've all had. You know the one where the landlord was so tightfisted that he'd never replace anything or get a tradesman in to make proper repairs and the flat looked as if it would disintegrate if you sneezed?

We were running late and had to get ready fast. I jumped into the shower, predictably a cold one, and dried off with one of the micro-mini bath towels. My suit looked like it was rolled up in a ball in the boot of my car, hardly surprising since that's exactly where it had been for the last few days. I managed to de-crease my suit just enough to get away with it. I did a little foraging for an iron and ironing board for my shirt before finally accepting that this was indeed a classy hotel.

With lightly creased shirt, a matching suit and a pair of Doctor Martin shoes I was ready and out the (sliding) door. The hotel owner was a nice guy and gave us a lift down the very steep hill to the wedding venue, his driving skills obviously far outweighed his DIY skills.

It was a lovely wedding reception. It was held in the local sailing club which had striking views along the length of Carlingford Lough. It was a long night, I was trying to drink as little a possible and time seemed to pass more slowly the later it got. But eventually it was home time, the bar had closed and the DJ was packing up. Walking back to the hotel was a bit of a challenge; it was pitch black and all up hill. We eventually made it, wrestled with our sliding door and fell into bed.

Getting up the next morning wasn't easy, my race started at 10am and I was at least an hour and a half away. I struggled to get up and managed to dress, pack and get on the road by 8.30. After a brief stop to get petrol and breakfast I was on the way.

I reached the City orbital at 9.40, I was late and wasn't sure if I'd make it on time but I pressed on. Uncharacteristically I didn't get lost and arrived at the registration office with 5 minutes to spare. I dashed into the office to register and pick up my number. I had to dash back to the car to get my GPS watch and foolishly tried to pin my number on my shirt as I ran. After several minor stabbings I decided to walk until the number was attached. I got to the car with no time to spare, I was officially late as the start line was a 10 to 15 minute walk away.

I ran all the way to the start line which was devoid of all runners and walkers, I was definitely late! As I crossed the start line I heard a beep and was happy that my time had been recorded. It took a minute or two to reach the slowest walkers and a few minutes later I came across the slowest runners. I was running faster than I would normally and continued to overtake runners for the next fifteen or twenty minutes until I caught up with a group running at a comfortable pace for me. I slowed down and ran the remainder of the race at this pace.

After mile 4 my right knee started to twinge a little, could this be the start of a painful finish? I was right! The final few hundred metres were quite painful but I carried on regardless and crossed the line, with relief, in 42:08. Not bad for a 5 mile run with a hangover and dodgy knees, I must turn up late more often!

Singing Lesson #2

Lesson #2 and I hadn't done my homework! Not only that but I couldn't remember what it was, but I did remember to pick a song to sing a cappella: "Black Is The Colour", a lovely traditional song of Scottish origin that I hoped get through without killing it.

The weather was appalling but this time I arrived in plenty of time, the first to arrive actually. The start time passed and I was still on my own but we gave it a few more minutes and thankfully a couple of my classmates arrived and the class started. We went through a lengthy warm-up session before revising last week’s songs and before moving onto some more complex songs.

It wasn't long before it was time to sing our own songs. For some reason I was volunteered to sing first (note to self: never sit at the front). I stood up in front of the class, took a deep breath and promptly forgot the tune... I desperately tried to hum the chorus but nothing came to mind. I apologised and asked if anyone in the class knew the tune. Luckily someone did and very kindly hummed the tune to get me going. I'm not sure how it went, I was so nervous and focused so completely on the words in front of me that when I sang I didn't really hear myself.

As I rounded off the last note I quickly made for my seat to kind applause. My classmates stood up in turn and performed their chosen pieces, each one was as nervous as me but very impressive; there's a lot of talent in that room!

Tonight's new tunes:

• Caro mio ben... a scary Italian number.
• Scales; majors & minors.

Tonight's takeaways:

• Rests; minim rests, crotchet rests, etc.
• Breathing... sounds obvious but not unlike swimming, if you do it at the wrong time you could be lining yourself up for a comedy moment.
• Always do your homework.

Swimming in Mulranny

On the way home we decided to pop into the new hotel in Mulranny for a quick swim. It turned out to be a very, very long stop as the hotel was equipped with not only a fantastic pool but also a sauna, steam room, an outdoor hot tub overlooking Mulranny bay, a jacuzzi and a whole new experience: the plunge pool; an 8 foot deep narrow pool filled with ice cold water, refreshing is not the word!

PB's and Dodgy Knees: The Achill 1/2 Marathon 2008

The weather forecast for Achill on Saturday morning was: wind, rain, wind, the odd sunny spell and wind. That's a lot of wind!

I thought we had plenty of time to get from Claggan to the race but the drive to Achill is always takes longer that I seem to remember. As we crossed the bridge onto the island there was barely 30 minutes to the official start time and we had a good 20 minute drive to Keel.

The registration office looked like it was a stones throw from the start line. Here's a handy hint: if a map states that it is not to scale assume the worst! In this case it was a mile away and I had to run there to make it back in time.

When I got back to the assembly area I was exhausted, the race was starting within minutes and I used this time to recover as best I could. As I walked along the line of the waiting runners towards the back of the queue I could feel the wind pushing against me; a strong wind is only good when it's behind you, this one was very much in front!

It wasn't long before the starting gun was fired and we were off. We left the beach and headed up to the main road and then turned right towards the mainland and into the wind.

The first few miles were harder than expected but enjoyable. As soon as I turned off the main road and headed towards the northern part of the island the wind eased off and the sun made a brief but welcome appearance. This part of the run was great; the scenery was stunning as the countryside opened up in front of me.

All was well until mile 9 when I started to feel a little little pain in my right knee, the knee I injured when I came off my bike earlier that week. I was passing a steward when I almost stumbled when I felt a sharp pain in that knee. He asked if I was OK and I said yes, it's just a twinge. It wasn't and I knew it but I couldn't stop.

From mile 10 the pain got progressively worst but I knew if I stopped I may not get going again. By mile 12 I must have looked tragic; I had slowed right down and had a very obvious limp but I was still running. As I scaled the last hill the sandy beach of Keel appeared; not long now and it was all downhill.

I finally reached the outskirts of the town, I could see the finish line and running along the final stretch was fantastic as the enthusiastic cheers from the crowd pulled me along and over the finish line. I checked my watch and my time was 2:07:18; a new PB to make up for a dodgy knee!

Singing Lesson #1

No, not a typo! I've swapped the swimming lessons for singing lessons for July. As usual I left it to the last minute to check the location and time of the course: 7pm in South Great George's Street. I wanted to be early and left the office with plenty of time to spare.

I arrived in town over an hour early and took the opportunity to shop for a couple of life jackets for this weekend's trip the Achill. Having found, bought and deposited the perfect jackets into the car I made my way to the music school with 10 minutes to spare. I made my way to the reception area and introduced myself only to be informed that the class had begun 20 minutes earlier! I pulled the printout from my pocket to double check... the web site was wrong, I though I was early and the class was way past warming up.

Oh well... I found the room and slowly opened the door just enough to pop my head around. A very jolly, friendly voice welcomed me and quickly summarised what the class had covered; what a relief!

I found a seat at the back and once I had settled in I quickly surveyed the class. There were 8 in the class; 7 women and me. I'm not sure if my arrival changed things for our teacher but it certainly lowered the tone.

Having missed the group warm up exercises I started the class straight into singing. It turns out that my voice slots into the Baritone category; the type of male voice that lies between Bass and Tenor. I guess that's a good thing; perhaps not the best but at least a bit of both worlds.

One of the reasons I wanted to do this course was to answer the question can I sing?
Apparently I can, just not very well but with practise I could be up there with the average of them!

Tonight's new tunes:

• Fly me to the moon.
• Edelweiss.

Tonight's takeaways:

• Articulate when singing.
• Performance directions; legato, mezzo, adagio and the like... I'll never remember all that, I can barely remember my name in the morning...
• Pick a song to sing A Capella for next week's class.

When gravity goes bad...

After a very wet but uneventful ride home I was just entering Newbridge when I remembered that my locksmith had called a few days earlier to let me know that replacement keys for my bike had arrived. So I decided not to go straight home, instead I'd ride on through the town and up to Newbridge Shopping Centre to pick up the keys.

I had just entered the car park and intended to turn right into one of the many lanes to find a parking space when I noticed a white SUV travelling in the opposite direction. The next few seconds took me by complete surprise; the rear wheel quickly and without any warning slipped to the left. Before I knew it I was on the ground with a very heavy bike resting on my right leg. I was stuck, the bike wouldn't move and my leg was pinned to the floor. The bike had been running for almost an hour, I knew the engine was red hot and being stuck under it was the last place I wanted to be. The driver of the SUV came to my rescue and helped me lift the bike just enough to free my leg. Once on my feet I could get the bike upright and wheel it out of the way.

I felt a little shocked but otherwise OK. The bike took a bang on the right side which knocked the brake lever block out of position but otherwise no other damage.

I rode the bike home and when I got inside my right leg felt quite sore around the knee. Taking my boots off I felt moisture around my knee and I thought blood, damn!! However, once I got my bike trousers off it turned out to be water, probably from the time I spend on the ground under the bike. My knee was a little grazed but nothing serious. There was a little bruising and it did feel sore. The Achill 1/2 marathon is in 3 days time, is that enough time to recover?

Tuesday 3 miler

It's a week before the 1/2 marathon and I'm feeling great, we ran this morning's 3 miler in 23:55, that's a pace of 07:58! Happy days!!

A weekend in Budapest...

This is a great city! My only other visit here, a few years ago, was a little rushed and we didn't have a lot of time to explore; then we were heading into the depths of winter and the temperature had plummeted to close to zero Centigrade, not ideal for wandering the streets. This time couldn't have been more different; we were heading for the height of summer and the average temperature was 32 degrees Centigrade; much more conducive for tourist wanderings and we had time to do it!

We stayed for five days (four nights), staying in a Hilton for the first two nights and then a much more agreeable apartment hotel for the last two; the latter had less fuss and more stuff, and it had a terrific pool which I made full use of.

On Saturday evening I decided that I had to get running so we made a plan to get up really early and walk the mile to Margaret Island where I would run two circuits (about 6.7 miles) which would give herself enough time to get in one walking circuit. Getting up really early meant no alcohol the night before which was ridiculous when on holiday so the 6am became 8am which is still early, we're just leaving off the really bit.

We walk along the Danube to Margaret Island, passing the poignant Shoes on the Danube Promenade, a memorial to the people who fell victim to the Arrow Cross militiamen in Budapest and depicts their shoes left behind on the bank when they fell into the river after having been shot during World War II.

The island is on the Danube (or should that be in the Danube?) and is accessed from Elizabeth Bridge. When I got down to the bank of the island I was surprised to find that there was a proper running track that appeared to stretch the entire circumference of the island. Running on that track was like running on air, if only I could run on this every day but it's a hell of a commute.

There were plenty of people out and it didn't take long before I came across someone running just out of my comfort zone so I decided to try to stick with her. The first half of the island was easy enough even though the temperature was a lot higher than expected. We were running at a fast pace and I was starting to feel the strain. We briefly left the track as we ran around the end of island and onto the northern edge where we picked up the track again. The sun was beating down and felt like it was sucking the energy out of me. I managed to keep up with my pace maker for another half a mile or so until she slowly slipped away as my energy levels plummeted. Half way along this side of the island I passed several swimming pools where a large digital thermometer read 32 degrees centigrade; that I could believe.

It wasn't long before I passed the starting point and I was on lap 2. The second lap was tough but I knew what to expect, and somewhere along the first half my reserves kicked in with a welcome boost. On the second half I could feel a dull pain my left knee, not enough to stop me but from experience I knew that once I stop running it will hurt!

I'm not often right but this time I was spot on; as I completed the second lap I stopped the clock, slowed to a walk and instantly the pain shot through my knee. I limped up the hill to the main access road where rested and stretched to try to relieve the pain.

After a little while we were ready to get back to the hotel and breakfast! As we started to make our way back I took a few moments to log my time and distance; 6.67 miles in 58:31, that's an impressive pace of 8:46. The walk back was less brisk than earlier but the combination rest & stretching did the trick and we were making good time.

Time, as it turned out, was not on our side. We somehow managed to slip back into Irish time and thought we were an hour earlier. When we arrived at the hotel we thought we had plenty of time to shower and change but as the concierge pointed out breakfast was just about to end. It was an easy decision; miss breakfast for a shower and fresh clothes or slip into the breakfast room, hoping that nobody notices our soggy attire. We opted for the latter of course and, for the price of a few raised eyebrows, tucked into a well deserved feast.

After breakfast, a very long shower and a potter around the locality we made for the hotel's excellent swimming pool for a pre-lunch swim. Happy days!!

Swimming lesson #12

The final lesson of the summer. I'm sorry to see them come to an end and shall look forward to their resumption in the autumn. Tonight we revised all 3 strokes (front crawl, breast stroke and back stroke) and spent a little time in the deep end.

Tonight's takeaways:

• Keep moving when treading water.
• If you panic when deep under water you'll stay there.

I have joined my local gym, who conveniently have a branch next to my office as well, so that I can swim whenever I choose. All I need to do is get in there!

Belgium; the land of chocolate and beer...

... but it doesn't stop there! It turns out that there is a lot more to that little country than gastronomic delights! But while we're talking about food, my favourite Belgian dish has to be Stoemp & Wild Boar sausages; haute cuisine it may not be but it has a farm fresh, healthy, traditional, mature, local, good feel to it... a little like haggis in Scotland or Oysters in Galway; it may not be the best thing for you but it feels right when you're there!

The weather in Belgium this weekend was fantastic, regularly tiptoeing around 28 degrees Celsius and race day was no different... it was a hot! The race was in the small village of Ogy, near Lessines, about 50KM South West of Brussels. The drive to Ogy was lovely; the countryside was beautiful and we had a running commentary of the view by my 3 year old niece. It turns out there are a lots of cows in Belgium!

We found the village without any difficulty and arrived at the starting area with plenty of time to spare, so much that we had a prime parking space in the village centre. Ogy is a small, quiet, friendly village tucked away off the main road. We found the registration hall (that would double up as a bar after the race) to enter the race. Once the princely sum of €3 had changed hands we were issued our race numbers and 1 safety pin each. After some negotiation we secured a second safety pin each.

Outside the hall some local vendors were setting up their stalls; a creperie, juice stall, fast food stall and yet another bar. We made our way out to the market square where the race MC was chatting to a transient crowd. He had a list of all registered runners and as we had registered on the day we were not on his list. He called us over and asked for my name but unfortunately his question stretched my French vocabulary of 5 words beyond it's limit and I couldn't make out what he was talking about; he quickly figured out I wasn't a local and Alain stepping to translate. He was trilled to have a foreign participant and as soon as we had been added to his list he switched on his microphone to announce my arrival.

We had a little time so we jogged first kilometer of the route to warm up although I didn't expect such an extreme warm! The temperature has risen to 28 degrees centigrade even though we had left noon far behind us.

By the time we got back to the village it was almost time to get going again. A line was forming behind the start barrier and as we slipped into place the entire crowd was hushed to silence and held it for about a minute. I wasn't sure if this was a tradition before races in Belgium but I decided to go with the flow and waited patiently, holding back a sneeze that was slowly building up. I'm sure that if there is a God he's got a cruel sense of humour, but at least he's got one. After the race I found out they were observing a minutes silence as a mark of respect for a runner that had recently died. Sometimes it's good to go with the flow!

A few seconds later the starting gun rang out and we were off! We ran up the narrow street we started on, past the makeshift bars and into the village square; past the church and the village war memorial on the right and soon we were out into the open countryside. The pace was a lot faster than I had expected or was used to but I felt good and kept up. The first few kilometers were fast but very enjoyable; we were running through the heart of the Belgian countryside, way off the beaten track.

The temperature was high, somewhere around 28 degrees centigrade, and as we passed kilometer 4 I really started to feel the heat. The first water stop didn't come a moment too soon and provided instant, if short lived, relief to the heat. The next few kilometers were undulating and quite challenging. I knew my pace was ebbing away as a quick glance at my watch confirmed. I could feel the sun sucking energy out of me and the water stop at kilometer 8 was most welcome. The next 3 kilometers were very tough; I was tired fought hard to keep going. The final kilometer was uphill and a real struggle but my running partner Alain kept me going until we reached the top of the hill. From there we could see the finish line.

As we passed the church the race MC spotted our approach and called out our names as we crossed the line, what a thrill!

We crossed the line in 1.06.27; a pretty good time for such a tough course in that heat.

OMG that hurt...

Very tough run this morning, it was only a 3 miler but it took a lot out of me. I'm putting it down to a combination of a fast paced 5 miler yesterday morning and 3 hours of wind surfing, kayaking and topper sailing last night! Still, a pretty decent pace of 8:43 (finishing in just over 24 minutes).

It was my first time wind surfing and won't be the last; even though I could only sail in one direction, fell in about 20 times and had to be towed back to shore I really enjoyed it. Kayaking was a lot of fun too, a lot drier than wind surfing and a lot more control but you provide all the power. Topper sailing was great, I have done it before and sailed in larger boats so it wasn't completely new.

Amazing Pace...

...when feet move around! (sung to the tune of Amazing Grace it's mildly amusing)

For this morning's run I had a Garmin Forerunner 201 that I borrowed for one of my colleagues... and I love it, I've gotta get one. We ran exactly 5 miles at a fantastic pace of 8.25 (finishing in 42:06). 3 miles of fartleks tomorrow morning and then off the Brussels for the weekend! Happy days!!

Swimming lesson #11

OK, I think we're getting there... slight overall improvement this week and I'm finally getting this breathing lark! Towards the end of the lesson we had a chance to dive into the deep end, swim towards the shallow end and front crawl to the other end of the pool... that was FUN!

I keep thinking about the 1500m swim if I participate in the Dublin triathlon next year. So far my record is 20m, that's 1480m to go...

Last week next week and the courses will not resume until September, we may have to look at private tuition for the rest of the summer... 1480m and all that!


Tonight's takeaways:

• When diving tuck your head between your arms and enter the water hands first, not all at once 'cos that really hurts...
• 1/2 a lung full of water

Fartlek frolics...

Latest fartlek session, I'm getting into these and can feel them working! We add a few press-ups, sit ups, bench presses, etc. into the mix. We covered approximately 3 miles this morning in a little over 30 minutes.

Better out than in a man's eye...

Up and out early on a Saturday morning... well, not as early as I promised as a text message 10 minutes after hour I had arranged to meet testifies. Better late than never, or as my Granny used to say when she burped "better out than in a man's eye".... bless! We ran the 5 miles at a race pace in 43:21, that's an impressive pace of 08:40! The run time is almost a 3 minute improvement of the last 5 mile race pacer... happy days!!

Fartleks: rarely silent and often deadly...

Oh, this was fun... when I got past the pain. Fartleks; who came up with that word? It's actually German word and is defined as a form of punishment in which the punished must run around a track. The last person in the line sprints to the front, and then jogs; the newest caboose must then sprint, etc. etc. Great for building up speed... apparently. This morning we ran 3 miles, 3 long miles!

Swimming lesson #10

Hmmm, not much improvement this week. Have I plateaued? I've got to swim 1500m in a triathelon next year, talk about a challange!

Tonight's takeaways:

• Smaller arm swings and faster legs for the breast stroke
• 1/2 a lung full of water

Race pace in haste?

As part of the Dublin marathon training and to increase overall speed we'll be adding in a few race pace training runs, and later we'll build in some fartlek sessions (I'll explain later). This 5 miler was very tough, especially as it is only a week since the Cork marathon. We ran it in 46:42, that's a pace of 9.20 and considering we ran a marathon last weekend that not bad!

Easy runner...

The first run since the marathon and we took it nice & easy, finishing the 3 miles in 27:50; that's a pace of a little over 9.17.

Swimming lesson #9

While in Cork I made unbelievable progress. I breaststroked an entire length of the pool, vastly improved my front crawl and backstroked half a length. Tonight, however, normal service was resumed. I have a theory: the pool in Cork was a normal gym pool with normal pool water, etc. But the pool in Naas is a teaching pool with teaching pool water and I'm convinced that they add some secret ingredient to make the pool less buoyant and therefore harder to swim in, the logic being that you'll be a much stronger swimmer in normal water. Make sense?

Tonight's takeaways:

• 1/2 a lung full of water

Corked: Part 3 of 3

After a restless night I was up early and feeling good. I was really looking forward to this race, I believed I had prepared well and was looking forward to reaping the reward from all that hard training. The breakfast room was bustling when we arrived, full of aging French tourist and aspiring marathoners; we joined my running partner in the athletes corner. I ordered a bowl of porridge and tucked into a healthy breakfast of fresh fruit, yogurt and herbal tea.

After breakfast it was time to shower and get ready for this epic run; having done this before I feel a little drama was justified. I had to choose my clothes carefully; any distance runner will tell you that one thing you must avoid is chafing... not wishing to go into too much detail I will say that the secret is the liberal application of Vaseline in strategic areas.

Suitably attired, and lubricated, I made my way to reception where Joe was waiting. After some last minute adjustments to gel packs and other accessories, and a brief word with running legend Sonia O Sullivan, we were on our way. Cork is built around the river Lee which cuts deep into the surrounding hills, the result is a fairly level city centre surrounded by steep hills. Our hotel was perched on one of these hills and as the start line was beside the river our first stretch of the day was all downhill.

We were both very excited about the run; this was Joe's first marathon and my first serious marathon, i.e. I had trained properly for this one! We had a mile or so to walk to the start line and the conversation was focused on the next 5 hours. We revised our strategy for pace, water and gels, and hoped I had enough Vaseline to last for 5 hours. Then it occurred to me that Vaseline is a petroleum jelly, and as we all know petrol is combustible, and running creates a lot of heat particularly in Vaseline coated corners... correct me if I'm wrong but petrol and heat in the same space tend to lead to fireworks. I can see it now, at around mile 10 random marathoners bursting into flames... let's hope there's a water station nearby!

We reached the starting area early and I had time to wrestle with my number as I pinned it to my shirt; it's hard to explain but I find it incredibly difficult to attach a square piece of paper onto the front of my shirt with 4 safety pins. Is it just me?

With numbers on, gels packed and strategy agreed we made our way to our designated area. The atmosphere was electric and the tension was beginning to build. We were just in sight of the start line and the line of athletes behind us continued to grow. The count down was on and

For the first 2 miles we wound around the streets of the city centre, crossing the Lee towards the Murphy's brewery, back along the north quays and eastwards along the river, past the railway station and out towards the Jack Lynch tunnel. The city centre streets were lined with people cheering us on, this was obviously a city that enjoyed hosting a marathon and it made all the difference. We had an unexpected cheer from our partners just after mile 3, sending us on our way out of the city.

As we passed the train station we left the spectators behind and started to really think about the miles ahead. We were feeling good and before we knew it we were approaching the 6 mile water station and our first gel stop. We grabbed a bottle of water each and continued to run until well clear of the water station before slowing to a fast walk to take on water and the all important gel pack. After a little over a minute we were off again.

At mile 7 we were approaching the Jack Lynch tunnel, an impressive 2 bore dual carriageway that forms one of the main entry points to the city; one bore was closed to traffic for the marathon so we had it to ourselves. I have run through a tunnel before, the Dublin Port Tunnel before it opened for traffic. It's a strange experience because, as you can imagine, a tunnel has no weather (no breeze, rain, sunshine, etc.) and the noise level increases the deeper you run into the tunnel as everything is echoed... everything from hundreds of pairs of trainers thumping the ground to countless conversations to screams of encouragement & desperation. There were a few other noises thrown into the mix but we ignored those.

Emerging from the tunnel was a spectacular sight; the sun was shining and a 6 piece percussion band were giving it serious wellie. We stayed on the dual carriageway for another mile before exiting where we ran though an industrial/retail area for half a mile before arriving in suburbia and a welcome water station.

We didn't stop there, we decided to carry on to the next water station before taking our next gel pack. After running along straight main roads it was nice to run though housing estates with plenty of twists and turns to break it up. There were plenty of spectators out, we were feeling the pain now and any encouragement really helped. Every so often a group of kids would stick out their hands for a high five, I gladly obliged and thanked them for another step towards the finish line.

The next water station was closer to mile 13, a little longer than I had in my head. The approach to this station was a long straight road along the sound bank of the Lee with lovely views of the river and northern hills. We stopped at this station for water and a gel pack, this stop was very welcome, we were both feeling a little tired but determined to carry on.

It took me another mile to get back into my stride and at mile 14 spirits were lifted as we clapped eyes on our partners cheering us on. The next mile was easy, it's amazing what you can find with a little encouragement!

The next 5 miles were through suburban areas as we made our way westward. Again the residents came our to help us along, the atmosphere was truly fantastic. The terrain was undulating but nothing dramatic, but the was about the change.

Just before mile 20 we started to leave suburbia behind and hit the first of many hills. We were expecting them but we also knew that we would be very tired and this section was going to test us to the core. Luckily the spectators stayed with us and on several occasions they pulled us uphill with their encouragement, I can't overstate how much of a difference that kind of support makes. Eventually we passed mile 21 and we were still going up hill and the will to carry on was ebbing away.

Just short of mile 22 we reached the highest point of the race and from this point on was downhill. The relief was instant and most welcome, it was as if a dark could had lifted and I knew we were going to make it. We were leaving the hills behind and returning to urban Cork. We continued downhill until after mile 22 when it levelled out and the road ahead was straight and long. It's harder to run when you're tired and you can see 2 miles of straight road ahead, but we kept going with a couple of mini breaks along that stretch. 2 miles later we were entering the west side of the city. Passing the mile 24 marker was hard, we could see the marker a mile off and it seemed to take us forever to reach it.

We were now back in the city and the streets began to twist and turn. We had one last water station just before mile 25 and we took the opportunity take a little walking break across a pedestrian bridge that crossed the Lee. We walked for about 2 minutes until a passing cyclist cheered us on with "there are only 2 kilometers to go", and we were off. We were almost there, less than 2K and we were home. We were running thought a park and emerged onto the North Mall quay. With less than a mile to go we were running fast, I have no idea where the energy came from but we were feeling great.

We crossed the Lee again and passed the 26 mile marker which meant a mere .2 miles to go. Just as we tuned the corner onto the last stretch we spotted our partners cheering us on. The finish line was in sight and we sprinted to that line, crossing it in 4 hours 47 minutes.

The next hour was a comedy hour. We knew we had to stretch but we were stuck in a running pose; it took me 5 minutes to sit down, and 10 to stand up again. After much slow, slow stretching we were ready move and find a cafe or pub to sit and eat. We we lucky to find a coffee shop with seats and good food, we made it our home for the next hour or so. Leaving was an effort; standing up required assistance and stepping down onto the street involved a series of careful side steps and the odd groan.

4.47 is a fantastic time, I'm absolutely thrilled and it's a step closer to the sub 4 hour time that I have in my sights. Looking forward to Dublin in October and hopefully a new PB; another step closer!

Corked: Part 2 of 3

We woke up fairly early on Sunday morning. As this was the day before the race I was feeling a little nervous but nothing serious enough to put me off my usual hotel treat... a full Irish breakfast!! In hindsight it was not the cleverest option for breakfast; I have been leading an extremely healthy lifestyle for the last few months and a plate full of greasy sausages, bacon and what could be described a scrambled eggs was a shock to the system. Having polished off the last strip of bacon I decided that I would never set eyes on such an unhealthy breakfast.

We had planned on visiting Kinsale for the day, we didn't plan the route which turned out to be a roller coaster ride through the hills of south Cork. We could have used the main road but in the spirit of adventure we opted for the magical mystery tour approach. There were several moments along the route when it looked like I may have to renege on that promise I made earlier.... I came perilously close to seeing that breakfast again...

Finally we made it... to the outskirts of Kinsale. Traffic was chaotic, it turns out it was race day and the usual beach bound throng was multiplied by punters and nag fanciers. I'm not entirely sure what a nag fancier is but I'm assured it's legal in this part of the world. Slowly we inched our way down hill towards the village, eyed peeled for a parking space. Lucky for us we were in the right place at the right time when the reverse lights on an ideally parked Ford Mondeo flickered on.

Safely, and conveniently, parked we made our way to a highly recommended fish restaurant whose name escapes me now. After a fantastic lunch it was back into traffic and slowly onto the beach. Traffic on the approach roads to the beech was chaotic, nothing was moving and we were painfully close to the sand dunes. My passengers did the sensible thing and abandoned the car in favour of a short walk to the beech. I, on the other hand, inched forward towards something that I hoped as a parking space. The frustration levels were high & getting higher and after much wailing and gnashing of teeth I finally happened upon a parking space.

After a lovely long seaside walk it was back into the the car and a surprising easy drive back to Cork city and the hotel. Time for a swim, sauna, steam room and jacuzzi before dinner.

During yet another top drawer Corkonian dinner our experienced marathon runner advised no alcohol the night before, drat! Later, back at the hotel the staff were very helpful and were preparing breakfast for 30 marathon participants the next morning. We ordered our breakfast porridge and retired for a good nights sleep.

Unfortunately, and typical the night before anything remotely exciting, I found it hard to sleep. I did have a weird dream... I was in a forest, there was a thick, heavy fog and it was dark, very scary, then my phone rings and I can barely see it through the fog and before I can answer it rings off... it was a mist call, oh well!

Corked: Part 1 of 3

Woke up to a fantastic day; the sun was shining and the weekend had just begun. The plan was to be on the road to Cork by midday, unfortunately the sunshine slowed everything down and it was 3pm before acts were put into gear and we finally got on the road.

We arrived at the hotel in good time and checked into a room with a view. The view used to be of the city before they built the leisure centre but I couldn't complain as I intended to make full use of it with my new found swimming skill.

We were eating at 8 so as soon as we unpacked it was straight to the pool. Could water on Cork have more buoyancy than Kildare water? Here I was swimming; my breast stroke looked less like a drowning man making for shore and more like a man on the verge of drowning... I consider that progress.

After a very, very cold shower and a stint in the steam room it was time to eat. I met our dining partner in the bar for a remarkably good pint of Murphy's stout, well... when in Cork and all that, my usual would be a Guinness. Dinner was fantastic, not at all what I expected from the hotel.

After dinner there was just enough time to sample the night life in the city and we jumped into the first taxi heading that way. We went to a Tapas bar (can't remember the name) but I really liked this place; we were sitting at the bar which I usually don't like but the bar staff were so into what they were doing that it was a real treat to be there. The crowd were lively and we stayed for quite a few.

It was getting late and we had to make one more connection before jumping into a taxi back to the hotel. We thought it would be rude to walk past the bar and not have a drink so we did the decent thing.

Finally to bed...

Swimming lesson #8

Fantastic lesson tonight and it turns out that I do possess buoyancy after all... but it requires a high degree of concentration to find it and keep it; not a trivial feat when you've got the concentration level of a highly intelligent goldfish!

Tonight's takeaways:

• Improved front crawl
• 2 back strokes (before sinking)
• Breast stroke theory (practice proved elusive, see next point)
• 1/2 a lung full of water

Last run before the big day...

Today was our last short run before the big day, squeezed in before swimming lesson #3. Fairly brisk pace; 3 miles in 26.10.

Saturday 6 miler

The big day is fast approaching, only a week to go. We decided to take it easy on this 6 miler, finishing in 58.54.

Swimming lesson #7

Is it possible for a man to have no buoyancy?

Is that a trumpet in your pocket?

A little bit of trumpet blowing justified again... last night was the Dublin Docklands Fun Run, an 8K annual event. It is a pretty flat course which probably contributed to my time of 39:29, that's a pace of 7:57, an all time best for me!

I have to admit that I gave it everything and picked out a couple of guys that were running at a pace slightly faster than my comfort pace. I kept up with them for most of the race but as we crossed the Liffey I began to lose ground and had to find another pacemaker. At this point we were approaching kilometer 6 and I could see the leaders on the other side of the river which gave me the boost I needed to get back into a quicker pace.

We crossed the Liffey again and were on the final stretch, probably a kilometer to go. I was feeling the pain but kept the pace up as I had to cross the line in under 40 mins to beat my newly acquired 5 mile PB. With less that a kilometer to go my phone started to ring and the "magic roundabout" theme music filled the narrow street we were running in, much to the amusement of my fellow runners. As I crossed the line I stopped my watch and was thrilled to see a sub 40 min time, a new PB!! Yippee!!

Dublin 5 Mile Classic

One hates to blow one's own trumpet but when you've got one as shiny mine you've got to do it! I am talking of course about a shiny new PB. Today we had the Dublin 5 mile classic and I really wanted to push it as hard as I could.

The first mile was fine, I felt really good and was keeping a steady pace. During the second mile I started to feel tired, my legs felt heavy and my breathing was all over the place but it didn't last for very long; I kept telling myself it's only 5 miles and I should be well able to get through this without slowing. Mile 3 was uphill; a steep incline to begin and then a slight but steady incline for about a 1/2 mile. By mile 4 I was genuinely tired and digging deep to keep going at this pace. The final mile was tough, I definitely slowed a little but the spectators and organisers kept me going as fast as I could.

I crossed the line in 41:05, that's an awesome pace of 08:13; my best ever!

That time can't be right...

This morning should have been a taper zone 12 mile training run. However, at the half way mark I looked at my watch and couldn't believe how fast I had ran 6 miles... slowly it dawned on me that perhaps my rubbish map reading skills had fallen to an all time low and I had added a little extra mileage. It didn't really matter, I turned around and ran the second half home, getting there in 1:45:50.

Later I drove the route and I was only .3 miles out, the entire route was 11.4 miles so my pace was 9:17... not bad!

Swimming lesson #6

Tonight we moved up to the intermediate class with a new 7 week course. Still using floats for the back stroke and ending the front crawl with a 1/2 a lung full of water but we're getting there!

Mid week 8 miler...

Nice easy run this morning, good pace of 9:06, happy days!!

"taper" zone...

The first run in the "taper" zone! A little over 5 1/2 miles in 49 mins, that's a pace of 8:51... a new record!! 6am start, lovely morning, great time to be out!

A run of 4 quarters...

This weekend was a mixture of over-exertion, over-heating and over-indulgence. It started off with the dreaded 20 Mile training run at 7am on Saturday, running the risk of sounding like a football commentator I have to say it really was a run of 4 quarters! We had split the run into 4 parts with water/gel stops every 5 miles. Joe drove the route the right before and placed water bottles in convenient and easily recognisable locations.

The first 5 miles were pretty straight forward, we were in good spirits and looking forward to finishing the run. The time passed quickly and we had run over 5 miles before I my first time check; time for our first break... happy days! We walked while devouring the contents of our gels, washing them down with the cool water. We walked for not much longer than a minute before we were off again.

The second 5 mile quarter was much easier than I had anticipated. We were keeping a pretty steady pace and the conversation was flowing which helps make time past quickly. The sun was shining and we were running through wonderful countryside; rolling hills peppered with green fields, woods, farms and some stunning houses. On the down side the rolling hill were proving to be a bit of a problem as we had to run up most of them. The curious thing about running an undulating route is that the uphill stretches appears to be twice as long and the downhill stretches. Of course if you start and finish in the same place the net elevation is zero but it doesn't feel that way. Before we knew it we were at the 10 mile mark and time for another gel and water session.

The third 5 mile quarter was a little more noticeable, as in I was starting to feel the burn, but still felt good. Towards the end of the quarter the sunshine ebbed away and clouds slowly rolled in, we could sense the rain but hoped to have finished before it came down. Our luck didn't hang around and it started to bucket down. I can't remember when I last saw such a sustained and heavy downpour; it was coming down in sheets and pretty soon we were up to a couple on inches of water in places. When arrived at our final water/gel stop we were soaked to the skin.

The last quarter was tough. The rain finally stopped after another mile but there was a lot of surface water to deal with. The final stretch back into Naas was along a wide road with plenty of hard shoulder space. We were getting tired and looking forward more than ever to reaching the end. The last 2 miles were torturous for me and I pretty sure it was 90% physiological; I always get tired and stroppy towards the end of a run, regardless of the length. The final mile was pure pain and the closer I got to the finish the harder it was to run but I knew it was all psychological and I could make it.

And so we did; After 3 hours, 28 minutes and 56 seconds of running we arrived back at the spot from where we started from; exhausted, relieved, sore but very happy! We tried to stop but the momentum of running for 20 miles kept the muscles going for another few meters as we involuntarily jogged to the end of the street.

The next few hours were spent stretched out on the sofa, I was very tired and could feel my muscles ceasing up... I was in serious danger of becoming a landmark.

Before long it was time to go and we piled into the Fiat Barva to head for Dundalk. We were screaming up the M1 when a light came illuminated on the dashboard, a red one that had a menacing look about it... then we noticed that the temperature gauge had left the red and entered a whole new zone! As we pulled over onto the hard shoulder and the car eased to a halt the engine heaved a sigh of relief and smoke started to rise from the bonnet. We decided to give the engine a few minutes to consider its options before opening the bonnet, once we did the heat off the engine was intense as smoke continued to rise. Assuming we were in big trouble we called the rescue service and waited, these guys take 40 to 60 minutes to arrive.

After giving the engine sufficient time to cool I removed the coolant cap and, surprise surprise, the water level was below the minimum level. After topping up the water we tried again and the temperature gauge went off the scale again. After another check the water had again fallen below the min level, so we went through the process again and this time it seemed to hold.

We cancelled the recovery service and took off only to be overtaken by a plume of white smoke; the exhaust was pumping out enough condensation to water a garden. We pulled over again and called the rescue service who politely told us that we had fallen back to the end of the queue and that we'd have to wait 40 to 60 minutes.

So we waited and waited, they called to say that they were sorry but they would be another delay, another 15 minutes, oh well. Rescue finally arrived and the expected news was delivered; the car has died, or more specifically the cylinder head gasket had blown. We were towed to our destination so all was not lost. The lesson from that experience was never drive, much less buy, a Fiat... never ever ever do it... just don't even think of it!

After that very long and overheated journey we were ravenous and wasted no time pressing ahead with the plan of dinner and drinks, although I faded early and had to retire at 2am. The next day was very pleasant; a garden party and the weather obliged with clear skies and sunshine. After far too much much food and drink I sat down at the end of the day sure that I had finally recovered from the 20 mile run the previous morning. A thoroughly over indulgent but well deserved afternoon.

From here on we're tapering off; easy mid-week runs of 5-8-4 and a weekend training run of 12 miles on Saturday and a 5 mile race on Sunday. It' time to nurse these tired feet back to full health in time for the big day!

8 miles good... 2 miles bad...

An early morning start and the first mid-week run for a few weeks. I was a little concerned about my knee so I decided to carry my knee saving insoles in my pocket; if I felt a twinge in the knee department I'd stop and slip them in. This happened around mile 4 and by mile 5 I knew I had to stop; luckily we passed a bench and I whipped them in. The relief was instant but I still had a nagging discomfort from the first 5 miles. Inevitably my arches suffered but thankfully my knee held out. The last 2 miles were tough, a real struggle but as I've said before it's amazing what you can find inside if you dig deep. I have no doubt that if I was running on my own I would have stopped.

We ran the course in an impressive 1.30, and according to the fetch calculator we're on track for a 4.10 marathon... however, in the real world (taking into account the fact that my legs will undergo the first of many transformations at mile 20 (they'll start by becoming blocks of stone, then blocks of cheese and finally a pair of stroppy teenagers that insist on lunging in different directions) before realising that I'm not stopping and if they don't get busy running we'll be here all day) that's more like 4.30 which is a whole hour off last years time.

Next run is the monster, massive, ugly but essential 20 miler! Is the pain really worth it?

Swimming lesson #5

Final lesson tonight! As usual much splashing and mouth fulls of water but progress was made. Tonight's takeaways were:

• Stretch those arms and legs right out from the finger tips to toe tips.
• Breathe with your head out of the water.
• Chicken Royale, fries and a strawberry shake.

I've signed up for the next level, a seven week course, and really looking forward to it!!

Oh!! That hurt...

After a weeks rest the weekend 14 mile run had finally come around. I was looking forward to it, I hadn't ran all week and was starting to feel a little still and unfit. I decided not to run with my insoles; the may solve the knee problem but they do agitate my healing blisters, as my top priority was to get those healed I thought I'd get away with a little knee pain.

The first 5.5 miles went really well, I stopped for a little water and a carb loaded gel. The next 2 miles were pretty good but I did feel a little twinge in my knee. The next mile saw the twinge become a little more sinister as the pain level soared and I knew I was in trouble. A quick phone call and biofreeze, my insoles and a friendly face were on the way. By mile 9.5 the cavalry had arrived... I stopped, turned and approached the car. Somewhere during that simple maneuver I twisted my knee and the pain shot through my body. I tried to shake it off, stretch and even pray but no, the damage has been done... this run was over.

I was bitterly disappointed that I hadn't reached 14 miles but on the bright side I did make it to 9.5 miles.

I'm not sure what to do this week, should I rest again and tackle the 20 mile run next weekend injury free?

Swimming lesson #4

Week 4 and we were thrown into the deep end... the theory of treading water is a world away from practice as several mouthfuls of water prove. The ol' front crawl is coming along... slowly! Last lesson next week, must start looking for another course; a not a beginner but not quite a swimmer course.

On the running front I haven't been out all week, I need to give these blisters a chance to heal. Next outing will be the weekend long run; 14 miles.

Walking in slow motion...

The first thing i did this morning was weight myself... still 84KG. Not bad, could be better but hey ho.

The plan was to run 18 miles but due to my rubbish map reading skills I accidentally planned a route of 20.4 miles. I suspected that I had made an error when my legs decided to stop working after 2.5 hours. I knew what there were doing and completely understood but I was a long way from home. What followed was a very, very, very long and uncomfortable walk home, stopping on several occasions to rest and stretch. My legs we incredible tired and stiff, and my arches were just unbelievably painful. My biggest fear was getting blisters, they can take quite some time to heal.

I was walking as fast as I could because the only place I wanted to be was home, sometimes the really is no place like home. I eventually made it, walking up my street was an incredible feeling after such a hard slog for over 5 miles.

Once home the first thing I did was sit down, I just had to take the weight off those exhausted and very sore legs. The phone rang a couple of times and after 30 mins or so I took my trainers and socks off to realise my greatest fear... blisters. Not just ordinary blisters, these were monsters. They may have started out as several blisters earlier in my run but over time they decided to pool resources and band together to form a union. They were big, one on each arch, and they explained a lot!

I was in really in a lot of pain, in fact climbing the stairs was a serious ordeal and I had to make sure I did it as little as possible. While upstairs I weighed myself and to my surprise I was 83KG, a whole 1KG down since this morning. I wasn't sure but I may have discovered something incredible, the weight of something previously though not measurable; I may have discovered the weight of the will to live! You see the only thing that I'm sure that I lost during my 20 miles of hell this morning was my will to live, could that account for the missing KG??

After a couple of hours of rest I had to do a little shopping for blister related stuff. I drove to the shopping mall and parked in the usual way. Walking to the shopping area was a little strange, like walking in slow motion. My legs were operating on work to rule basis.

With the marathon so close (5 weeks time) I'm a little worried that I may not be able to train this week. We've got a 5-9-5 and a 14 mile run at the weekend. I think I'll be OK by the weekend but the mid-week runs look doubtful.

Early morning dash...

A late night made sure it was a struggle to get out of my comfy bed but after many failed attempts I finally crawled out at 6am. It turned out to be a pretty good run; 5 miles in bang on 45 mins., that's a pace of bang on 09:00, another first! I'm sure the 18 mile run planned for Sunday will see a return to a more familiar pace...

Swimming lesson #3

Swimming lesson number 3 last night. Like most things; I get the theory, it's the putting it into practise bit that I sink on. This week was pretty much the same as last week, we're obviously not getting it right!

A 2008 triathlon could be a little adventurous, and quite possibly my last unless I get one of those wetsuits with a emergency ripcord that inflates the suit into a balloon; with the right wind direction I could do a pretty good time... the wrong wind direction and I could end up several miles upstream... what if its blowing a gale; I could be last seen heading out toward the Isle of Man... let's stick with swimming.

Not even a little twinge...

I gave the 4 mile run yesterday (Tuesday) a miss, I felt that me knee could do with a rest. This morning I added being geographically challenged to my long list of challenges and didn't quite make the 9 miles, instead clocking up 8.2 miles; close enough! The good news is that we ran the 8.2 miles in 1.14, that's a pace of 9:04 and an all time best! The other good news is that it looks like my new insoles are doing the trick; no sign of any knee pain at all, not even a little twinge!! A couple of blisters but it's a bargain price to pay!

Long way round...

Sunday afternoon is not the best time for the longest run of the week and we proved that fact this afternoon as we dragged ourselves around the 12 mile route; it was a killer, a drag, a shoot me now kinda run but we still managed to run the full 12 miles. Not only did we finish but we did it in record time: 12 miles in 1.51. That is a time not to be sniffed at...well, maybe proper runners like Monica have the right to sniff... but not for long, at this rate we may find ourselves in the proper runner category someday soon!

I'm into the final few weeks of preparation for the Cork marathon, and the distances will getting into the really long category. 18 miles next weekend and in 3 weeks it'll be the dreaded 20 miler; that 20 mile run will make or break the marathon!

Last short run of the week...

Another early start, I'm getting used to these! 5 miles later we were surprising relaxed when rounding the last corner, finishing in a mere 46 minutes. It looks like this training is starting to pay off! Looking forward to the 12 mile run this weekend, it should be a walk in the park... oh, let's not tempt fate again.

Swimming lesson #2

Just back from swimming lesson number 2 and I finally managed to breathe with my head out of the water. Towards the end of the lesson I managed to get 1 relatively calm breath in followed a few seconds later by a familiar panicked breath which, combined with a very impressive front crawl, got me half down the length of the pool; a new record! Tonight's new skill was the back stroke; the trick is the look up and kick like hell.

Mid week run

Another early start and 8 miles without any sign of injury, looks like the shoe advice worked!

Early morning & first run of the week...

Up and out early! I'm back in my old Asics and they feel pretty good. No knee trouble until the last 100m when I felt a twinge followed by a sharp pain and had to stop, but I'm putting it down to agitation and swelling from the long run on Sunday. 8 miles tomorrow morning, should be another early start, then week 2 of swimming lessons.

Finally some good news...

After expert self-diagnosis I decided to give the experts a go, it turns out that the problem is not with my IT band after all! My right foot it the root of the problem, specifically the arch or lack of it... After much prodding, poking, twisting and pulling my Physio deduced that the arch support in my trainers is nowhere near adequate. It makes perfect sense; the arch on my right foot begins to ache a mile or so before my left knee begins to ache. It's a huge relief that I haven't damaged my knee or IT band. Looks like we're back on track for Cork!!

Limp, stretch, Hitler and extra miles, but not necessarily in that order...

After resting all week to give my IT band a chance to heal I joined Joe for our long weekend run; 16 miles was on the list this week. After our 15 mile run last week, this week's 16 miles should be a walk in the park! That's what you might call tempting fate!

It started very well; good pace and a lovely route through the Kildare countryside. We agreed to stop every 4 miles to briefly rest and take on water. The first stop was pretty uneventful but somewhere between mile 4 and 8 I started to feel an ache in the arch of my right foot. This was followed by a dull pain in my left knee. We stopped, as scheduled, at 8 miles as I was starting to feel a lot of pressure on my left knee. After much stretching we carried on and almost immediately I knew I was in trouble; the pain was getting worse, I could feel pressure in my left hip and I was developing a limp. We carried on and I gradually fell behind.

The 12 mile stop was breaking point; I was limping and in considerable pain. I hated to do it but I had to throw the towel in and Joe took off to complete the run alone. I cut a rather pathetic figure as I dragged myself up the hill towards Naas, it reminded me of my 3 week stint in the Gaeltacht when I much younger.

The Gaeltacht is an area where only Irish is spoken and during the summer months there are organised residential Irish language courses. There are several Gaeltachts in Ireland; most are located in the western counties (Donegal, Mayo, Galway and Kerry). It wasn't a particularly pleasant or uplifting experience for me; we had to walk everywhere and for a city boy that had less than a mile walk to school walking almost 4 miles to our Gaeltacht College was quite a novelty on the first day. On the second day it was considered a joke and on the 3rd day it was beyond a joke. We had to walk to the college in the morning, walk back home that afternoon, walk back to the college for our evening ceili, and walk back home that night. If you add it up I think you'll find that's a lot of walking. We often hitched to college and met some interesting characters; my heart skips a beat when I think about what could have happened had we been unlucky with a lift.

The priest who appeared to manage the college was a cross between Hitler, my worst nightmare and Hitler. It was clear that he disliked his job, himself and people in general. There was one pivotal event that confirmed his close friendship with the devil. It was a weekday morning and as usual we were faced with a long march to the college with one significant difference; the weather was foul - the wind was blowing a gale and the rainfall was heavy and horizontal. We were unhappy walking several miles to college in fair weather, and we decided that in this foul weather we'd had enough and we were not moving. You could say we were on strike, our house keeper (or Bean an tí) couldn't move us. We were united, dry and wanted to stay that way. Unknown to us we had been betrayed.

The priest had been informed of our strike and was speeding towards our remote house. We heard to screech of tyres outside, we all knew Jim the postman drove at 2 1/2 miles an hour so it couldn't be him. Peering out the window we saw it was the college minibus, we could scarcely believe it... we were saved. The evil priest had a heart after all. He stormed into the house and angrily ordered us outside; we reckoned he must keep up the act of Satins' right hand man to keep us in line so we happily marched outside ready to board the bus. Only when he had us all outside did the terrible truth revel itself as he ordered us to march to the college, into the howling wind and driving rain. As the last boy joined the march of the damned he climbed into the dry, roomy mini-bus and drove slowly behind us... all the way to the college. Happy days!

As Joe ran into the distance I struggled up the hill, I wasn't entirely sure where I was but it turned out to be 3 miles back to town; 3 long, lonely miles with a limp. The funny thing is that I made it back before Joe, we should have travelled the same route and I didn't notice a pair of trainers poking out of a ditch. 10 minutes later he arrives, exhausted. It turns out the planned route would only reach 15 miles, and the plan was to run 16 so he took a slight detour to add a miles. Several wrong turns later he finds a familiar road and in the way home after adding an unexpected few miles. That'll hurt tomorrow!

Meanwhile I'm slowly ceasing up and by the time I get home I can bearly walk on the flat, walking up or down stairs was unbearable and to be avoided at all costs. About an hour later I had decided to hunt down and kill the lunitics that designed my house... all the toilets are upstairs, what were they thinking??

Swimming lesson #1

It's been on my to-do list for many years, and I'm finally taking swimming lessons starting tonight. I really didn't know what to expect, I hadn't been in a pool for many, many years apart from sea survival courses but they don't count (you're wearing a life jacket).

When I got out to the pool area the instructor asked what level I was, I answered honestly "complete beginner". He wanted clarification... "You’ve never been in the water?", I answered "the last time I was in the water I was being dragged out by a life guard" which sent me straight to the bottom of the beginners line. It's a true story, I was on holiday in Spain, near Barcelona, and my sister (Marie), brother-in-law (Alain) and some friends were pottering in the beach; a beach packed with bronzed gorgeous Latin types. And then there was the Irish contingent; lashing on plenty of factor 30 to preserve our bluey white complexion.

I was feeling very confident; I had my snorkel, goggles and a firm seabed within reach. I was having a great time peering into the colourful Mediterranean, every so often my snorkel would fill with water and I'd have to stand up to empty it out. however, there came a point when my luck ran out, I tried to stand up and found to my horror that the sea bed has fallen out of reach, either that or I had shrunk and that was a real possibility considering the amount of time I had been in the sea but it didn't really matter, the fact that I couldn't stand was the critical issue. It took a fraction of a millisecond to appreciate the gravity of the situation, and at that moment gravity was my nemesis. I had a couple of options: relax, lie on my back and float; make for the shore as the sea bed could not be that far away. I did what any sensible non-swimmer would do and panicked. Luckily Alain spotted me as I went under for the 2nd time and sprang into action. The next thing I remember was being dragged from the water like a drowned rat, I knew the chances of me scoring that afternoon were reduced from virtually zero to a definite zero.

Back in the swimming pool I was surprised that I could swim a little, but as soon as the instructor I was promoted to the "can swim a bit" line. It was a great class and learnt the basics of the crawl, or is it the breast stroke. Breathing was a bit of a challenge, it turns out it's better to do it with your head out of the water. Next week is the back stroke! Triathlon here we come...

Iliotibial Band...

...is not one of the more obscure groups in my music collection but, according to my mate Marie, the cause of my recent knee injury. It's a band that runs from the hip to the knee and it's a common injury for professional runners, and I can testify that quite a few rubbish runners get it too. The solution, according to my mate Kerry, is rest for 3 days (I like that), ice (good in a G&T but we can share), and ibuprofen. This is day two of resting; I'll rest it again tomorrow and get back to training on Thursday.

God calling...

Here's another handy hint but it only applies to bikers in Ireland: If you've got a radio built into your motorcycle helmet (which I do) which is not easily controllable with your gloves on (which mine isn't) and your radio station of choice is RTE Radio 1 (which mine is) and you tend to set the volume quite high (which I do) then avoid at all costs travelling anywhere near 6pm because you will instantly have one thing in common with Quasimodo: The Bells... THE BELLS!!

You see in Ireland, RTE (the national broadcaster) transmits the Angelus every evening at 6pm. For those outside the catholic circle, the Angelus is a minute long sound of the Angelus bell, a church bell. I admit, a minute doesn’t sound like a long time but let me assure you that your mind will be quickly changed, challenged and probably crushed if you find yourself hurtling down the M7 at breathtaking speed happily listening to the latest in world affairs when suddenly your crash helmet is replaced by a huge church bell that is rung with gusto for a full minute!! And there's NOTHING you can do about it... ARRRGGGGGGGG.......

This happens to me with alarming frequency... it may explain a lot...

GIR 2008: A long walk back...

Morning broke and, while my knee was not 100%, in my wisdom I decided that I should run the GIR this afternoon. I went through my usual pre-race routine; a monster bowl of porridge, a couple of bananas, lots of water, a frantic search for the car keys (I can never find them when I really need them) and off to the race. My knee felt pretty good in so far as I couldn't feel it which I guessed was a good thing.

I parked in the Phoenix park some 3K from the start line (I thought it was more like 1K but ask anyone that knows me and they'll tell you that I have no concept of distance, I'm one of these "it's just around the corner" or "down the road" people) where I met a steady stream of fellow participants jogging and looking a little worried. I asked one which way to the start line and was inform that it was 3K this way... with 15 mins to the start time. I wasn't overly concerned, I have run this race of a few years now and it has never started on time. But it crossed my mind t hat this year could be different and I adopted the worried look and jogged to the start line.

By the time I got there I was exhausted and a little creaky in the knee dept. Not a good start, but I should have trusted my instincts as the start was delayed by 20 mins. On the plus side I had time to catch my breath and stretch. When the race finally started I found myself a the back of the crowd, I could see a few chickens, batman and a couple of very large, bearded women (I made the assumption that there were men dressed in drag but since the collapse of the iron curtain you never know, they did all kinds of weird experiments on athletes behind that curtain...) so I knew I'd be stuck behind quite a few walkers.

When I crossed the start line I set my watch and sprinted to a halt as I hit a walking wall of middle-aged women, why they have to walk side by side I'll never know. Getting past them I had another half a kilometer of walking walls to scale. I felt a little like Steve McQueen in one of the closing scenes of the Great Escape, although I didn't have half the German army out to kill me.

Anyway, as soon as I started running I felt the pain in my knee and it got progressively worse, hitting a peak at around the 5K mark where my pace plummeted. The last 5K was a painful stretch and it was a real effort to keep going. I crossed the line in a little over 1 hour 3 mins. Not my best but glad to have finished. However once I had crossed the line and had stopped running the pain really hit home. It was a long, long walk back to the car.

Just when I knee-ed you...

This was the first of many long runs myself and my mate Joe are planning in preparation for the Cork marathon; 15 miles in a little over 2 hours 34mins. A really good time for that distance and our pace was pretty constant throughout. I felt pretty good for the entire run but half way I became aware of a dull pain just behind my knee cap. The pain persisted, perhaps increasing slightly but not enough to make consider stopping although there were a few occasions towards the end that I'm sure I would have stopped had I been running on my own.

The last few miles were the hardest but it was a question of mind over matter as it usually is; it never will cease to amaze me how much more you can find in yourself when you're sure your energy is spent. I felt pretty good for an hour or so after the run but then it hit me as I tried to climb the stairs at home. So I did what I knew to be the right thing; ice and rest and the pain slowly ebbed away. Tomorrow is the Great Ireland Run; here’s hoping my knee has recovered by the morning!

Pre-lunch dash

Another pre-lunch run from the office, a little over 4 miles in a little under 39. It felt like an easier run compared to Tuesday's run, looks like it's coming together... Feeling good!!

7 miles in Naas

I'm sticking to the program... 7 miles in 1:07, pretty good pace and felt really good afterwards. 4 miles tomorrow.

Munchies

Just back from a pre-lunchtime run with my mate Joe: 3.59 miles in 33 mins; a respectable pace. One of the obvious downsides of running when you're hungry is how much hungrier you are after the run... I could have eaten a horse and considering I work in Clondalkin it could have been a sticky end to one of the preferred domestic pets in this part of the world!

Luckily we got back to the office before the mega munchies kicked in. The mega munchies are the munchies you get after a night a much beer and little or no food... you'll eat everything in the fridge regardless of what or how old it is.

It was during one of these attacks that I discovered how sensitive the digestive system can be... it was very, very late and I was very, very drunk. I opened the fridge door and there was nothing there... empty, except for 7 onions... "hmmm... I do like fried onions" I thought to myself, but if my brain cells were functioning properly rather than swimming in a bath of alcohol I would have finished that sentence with something like "on a burger" or "with lots of other things..." but eating 7 fried onions is a bad, bad idea. Eating 7 fried onions with a burger or lots of other things would be bad enough, but on their own is beyond a bad idea. When you're inebriated things like bad ideas rarely get in the way and I proceeded to fry up the last residents of my fridge. I'm not going to go into detail but the next few days were not pleasant, I cannot even find the words to describe how unpleasant they were but experience will be forever etched on my brain.

Happy days!

Quadrophenia

Didn't make the 10 mile weekend run, in my defense my quads were killing me... I can't understand it; I thought I had stretched enough after the 4 mile run on Friday morning. Oh well, next on the list is a 3 mile lunchtime run tomorrow from the office.

...yawn...

After a lengthy absence I'm back on track. An early start this morning, up at 6am and out by 6.30. Managed a little over 7 miles in 1.09, a respectable pace. Short 4 mile run tomorrow morning and a long 10 mile run planned for the weekend.

goo goo g'joob...

I'm Just back from another trip to the US and I'm sorry to say that I managed only 1 run during my week over there, consequently I'm feeling very unfit...

The flight over was pretty uneventful, there were plenty of empty seats and critically the one next to me was empty giving me that all important inch of extra leg room. I started reading "Jupiter’s Travels" and the flight (forgive the pun) flew by, it's a great read if you're interested in motorcycles or travel or both.

On my first day I woke very early, just after 4am, but my hotel gym didn't open until 6am. I tried to sleep a little longer but once I'm awake it's virtually impossible to get back to sleep so I checked out early morning TV, checked my mail and did a little work. Finally 6am arrived and I was first through the gym door. I use the word "gym" in its broadest possible context; it was tiny room with a treadmill and bench.

My second day mirrored day one; wide awake at 4am. This time I was beaten to the "gym" but a large man in obvious need of exercise; if you can imagine a walrus struggling to keep up with the treadmill you've got the image that greeted me. Since there was only one treadmill I was out of luck that morning.

On my third day the walrus was back... but I was off to start my vacation; I picked up a car from the airport and headed north towards Pennsylvania and eventually Harrisburg. From there I headed east to Philadelphia and then back to DC for the last 2 days.

The flight home was again uneventful but it could have been different... I was one the last passengers to board and when I arrived at my seat there was a very, very large man sitting next to me. Well, he was half the height of a normal man but three times the width, not ideal dimensions for flight neighbour. He reminded me my nemesis; the treadmill hogging walrus! Not the kindest description but the one that sprang to mind. Lucky for me the flight was not full and there were plenty of empty seats. My neighbour suggested that he move to an empty row before the plane takes off, a suggestion I fully endorsed and actively encouraged, and we're back with that all important inch of extra leg room.

Cock-A-Doodle-OH MY GOD, what and I Doing!!

I just couldn't stay awake last night and finally gave in at 9pm. Had a great sleep and woke up at 4am this morning and decided to get up and get out for a run. I had planned on a 5 mile run (as per schedule) but felt good at 2.5 miles so I kept going to the 3 mile mark before turning around.

I have to say it's a great time to be out running, especially if you're running in a town or city; there are no cars or pedestrians to worry about. I'm going to turn this jetlag into a good thing and try to make getting up REALLY early a routine.

"Hey, where's Lois, Superman?"

...a bum shouted as he caught sight of my bright blue Superman t-shirt while walking through what turned out to be a pretty dodgy part of downtown San Francisco. In that city dodgy can mean all kinds of things; fortunately they're usually friendly, laid back, a little odd but in a good way. I had a plan to run across the Golden Gate bridge but a quick look at the map threw up a proximity issue... our hotel was miles away.

My training did lapse somewhat but I did make fairly good use of the hotel gym; well, I was wide awake at 5.30am every morning which was far too early for Lori's full American breakfast, enough to feed the S-man himself, which explains why everything fits a little more snugly now that I'm back.

The most I could manage on the treadmill was a pretty rubbish 3 miles, but as Joe pointed out if you keep going you find a whole lot more just when you thought you were spent; tell that to my credit card people!

Breathless in Brussels (01:02:48)

28th HIVERNALES DU RACING CLUB DE BRUXELLES avec l’aide précieuse de INTERNATIONAL SCHOOL OF BRUSSELS

How pathetic is this... it's February and I have only managed one single, solitary run this year!! Having said that I do have some pretty good excuses; the elbow episode, Christmas (although strictly speaking it happened last year the effects were felt well into the new year), and it's bloody freezing outside!

The first run of 2008 was a forest race in Boitsfort, Brussels (http://docs.google.com/View?docid=df4hv48w_12htbrn7), and my first European run (the GNR doesn’t count; perhaps when they ditch the pound we'll reconsider...).

It was bitterly cold but spirits were high, unfortunately so were the hills! I thought it was a tough race with a variety of surfaces, oh and those hills... but I thoroughly enjoyed it! I crossed the line in 01:02:48, and I'm very happy with that! Here's a map of the route, if it displayed contours there would be so many that they would merge into one... honestly!!

I was running with Alain... well, we started together as he is what you might call a proper runner! We patiently waited at the start line and then, when the starting gun fired, he was gone... leaving behind a cartoon-like trail of dust in his wake. We started at the enterence to the college, on the edge of the forest. The route took us through the village and looped around to bring us back to the college, up the first of many hills and into the forest. That first hill was a bit of a shock; it was steep, long and very close to the start but it gave me a taste for things to come.

Reasons to be cheerful...

Two creamy pints and a lift home!

Ryan's recovery station!

It wasn't my idea, but these tinkers had one of their own!

Mostly armless...

Training has taken a severe blow having recently experienced a senior moment leaving me with 7 stitches on my elbow (which I can no longer bend until it heals) and more bruises than you could shake a stick at... on the upside there are frequent comedy moments, usually when eating or dressing.

Not sure about the 5 mile run this weekend. The stitches are due to be removed this Friday, I guess all will be revealed then... well not not all I hope!!

New year, old legs...

Oscar Wilde once said "Good resolutions are simply cheques that men draw on a bank where they have no account". He has a point; so far this year I've managed to polish off a mid-week bottle of wine, exceeded the 5 latte daily allowance, get to day 8 without running once and not shave every day. On the up side I have... um... well, we have an entire year to get it right!!

I have to decide which marathon to run in the first part of this year; Belfast or Cork. A Corkonian I used to work with reckons Cork would be far better, for one it's a little later than Belfast (June rather than May) and (for another) it's a little flatter. It'll be training run for the Dublin marathon in October where I'd like to beat 4.30 so perhaps Cork would make more sense, we'll see!

I'm off to fetcheveryone to start planning!

Aware 10K

57.25... that's under an hour and that's all we need to know!

Jingle Bells 5K

First run since the marathon, including training, and it showed in my 27 minute time!! I had hoped to do a lot better but if you don't put in the time...

Proof of the pain!!

The photos are in and get a load of this look... a combination of pain, relief, disbelief & never again will I do something as stupid as this!!

What followed was a creamy pint, a healthy tuna sanger and thoughts turned to maybe I COULD do it again!!! ...SOOOO I've signed up for Dublin 2008! At least I've got an easy personal best to beat!!

Dublin City Marathon: 05:29:04

A marathon... it really is such a long way, much more that my legs were expecting!!

I felt really good at mile 14 which is hardly surprising as the longest I had ran during training was a 1/2 marathon. I was following my “take it easy and save it for later” strategy which seemed to be working (running an average of 11.5 minute miles).

BUT I had no idea what would happen after 14 miles and it wasn’t long before I realized that all was not well despite my carb loading diet leading up to the race and regular consumption of carb rich gel packs during the race; my legs were just not willing to do what they were told and as the miles went on they became less and less interested.

By mile 22 they had met with their union and were threatening to go on strike unless this ridiculous exercise ceased, I managed to keep them going for another mile or so but they finally had enough somewhere near mile 24 and we were walking for the next 2 miles.

It wasn’t until we got back into the city that their ego took over and responded the cheering crowds that lined the streets along the final stretch.

Crossing the line was an awesome experience, it somehow made up for the pain.

Great North Run: 02:26:52

Fantastic weekend, great day and a pretty good time of 02:26:52... I managed to run the entire length of the course although the last couple of miles were a real struggle, so much so that some walkers were passing me by. It really was a brilliant experience; the atmosphere was fantastic and the entire route was lined with cheering spectators which made the run so enjoyable.

Roll on the Dublin city marathon in 3 weeks!!!!!

Dublin 1/2 Marathon: 02:22:34

It was a real worry... I wasn't sure if I could run the course as I hadn't been training for the last few weeks through injury and sheer laziness... but as soon as I started I realised that it would be fine. The first 9 miles went well; I managed to keep a good pace and enjoyed the run. After mile 9 it quickly turned, by mile 11 I was ready to drop and had to walk for the first time but it did the trick and I was back running well into mile 12, crossing the line in a fantastic (in my opinion) time of 02:22:34.

It's seems obvious now...

...but try to avoid sneezing when riding home on your motorcycle, especially if the visor's down. Enough said?

GNR thought...

I’m really looking forward to the Great North Run in Newcastle, even if my training schedule doesn’t reflect my enthusiasm… I’m not going to push it too hard during the Dublin ½ marathon (the previous week), I’ll be sticking to my 3 mile run, short walk, 3 mile run (ditto until the finish line) strategy, what can go wrong… just thought of one thing that could go wrong but what are the chances of a grand piano falling from a high rise?

Washout weekend...

OK, pretty rubbish weekend of running, in a word... none! Tuesday AM is the next on the list: 4 miles, then 8 and another 4 before a 10 miler at the weekend!

Ouchious Maximious

A little disappointing this morning... got out early (good start) but started to feel a little achy in my left foot early on. I thought I could run through it but got worse. After almost 3 miles I had to stop and walk the rest of the way. Will ice and rest tomorrow, see how we go. Can't afford to get injured now, especially as time is ticking away for the marathon... less than 7 weeks to go!!

5.6 miles later... feeling good

I was supposed to run 4 miles this morning, but due to my amazingly retarded navigation skills I managed to clock up 5.6 miles. A pleasant surprise and, considering I was out at 6am (that's long before dawn) I felt pretty good afterwards.

OK, back on track

It's been a while but we're back on track... Ran my 4 mile last night in a reasonable 42mins. 7 miles tonight...

OMG

Took the ol' legs out for a run last night after a lengthy rest... now officially worried! Only 2 weeks to the 10 mile adidas run, that's gonna hurt!