One race in 16 months and now we’re looking at two in the space of four days. You know what they say, make hay when the eggs hatch…to save a stitch in…nine. I was very aware that this could backfire on me and that all sense pointed towards regrouping for a period and getting in a couple of sessions before racing again. But sometimes sense is wrong. I was keen to just get out there again and put together a solid race reflective of my current shape. In short, I was being a stubborn pup but when you have been starved of races for so long it just makes sense to lap them up and get used to the sensations again. I also knew this course wasn’t going to be fast but it wasn’t going to be about the time or running a PB, rather putting together a good race and maybe even getting a win depending on the field The standard for this was never going to be as good as Dundrum. Competitive runners gravitate towards well established races and fast courses, naturally.
I was going to do a few things differently though this time. For one thing, getting there on time. Secondly, no pressure or time targets, just race it and be smart. We sometimes focus on the wrong metrics as runners and I’m guilty as sin. In races, it’s times instead of racing and placing. In training, it’s weekly milage instead of the quality, recovery and intensity. It’s also very hard to step back change a moulded mindset. That’s not to say times aren’t important or relevant, it’s almost the first thing you’re asked when you run a race and of course as runners, the PB list is our personal roll of honour. But time in the context of the course, conditions and competition is so variable that putting pressure on yourself to run this time or that time just more often leads to disappointment. If you just put trust in your training and focus on consistently racing instead of always clock-watching, times will come. They always do. Finally, I made sure not to eat anything else after my breakfast of toast and jam at 7am. About 45 mins before the race during the week I ate a banana. I don’t know if this made a difference but why take the chance.
With only a 25 minute drive up the road to Inch and an 11am throw-in, I set off around 9am making sure to get there with time to drive the course, get a good warmup in and then relax before the race. I was so early I could have also gotten a few batches of ironing done. I drove the single looped course and boy was I glad I did. I saw the route online and could tell it was hilly but driving it really opened my eyes. The majority of the route was on small country roads and the challenging hills were dotted the whole way with very few flat sections. They looks like they were hungry to eat up some unsuspecting runners today. Of course what goes up must come down but they don’t equalise in effort. The hills generally take more than they give back. For that reason, I was already planning a conservative start and keeping something for the tough middle section and a nasty climb on the final mile. Back in the car park and I didn’t see many regular faces but being so close to Dublin I expected a few competitive runners to make the trip down. Sean Hehir was rumoured to be running but I hadn’t spotted him yet. It wasn’t long until I spotted a different top dog, a familiar sight on the circuit. It was those flowing locks of Mick Clohisey in the distance. Damn. It wasn’t a great immediate reaction but would you blame me? Despite being a very nice guy, he has an aura of intimidation when you see him before a race. I was already resigning myself to second though on form I shouldn’t have been so defeatist. In Dundrum a few days ago, Mick placed 4th in 30:47, a time I was shooting to exceed – the cheek of me. Then again my confidence took a knock that evening so still the plan was to just get out there today and shake that one off. I then overheard a couple of runners nearby joking “I just spotted the winner, Clohisey is here”. I didn’t like it, but I kind of agreed. I took a sip of water and squinted my eyes at him. Then I waved.
The day itself was not looking good and a barrage of rain was forecast. There was a strong wind from the south west and the rain which was pretty light all morning was now picking up. Typical July weather I suppose. I headed off for a warmup and bumped into a friend who was doing the race timing. It was great to catch up and one of the wonderful things about races returning is reconnecting with a lot of running folks around the country. On the warmup I didn’t feel terribly great. I ran a section of the 1st and 2nd mile, into the wind and effort was a bit too high. I don’t know if it was psychosis kicking in but the side was bothering me also whenever I ran up a hill. Honestly, the head was not positive at this point and I was even giving myself reasons to not run, even figuring out logistics for when the side would hurt so bad that I’d need to stop. If I was past 3 miles would I just jog the rest or turn and jog back to the start so I didn’t have to cross the line. Madness. In hindsight, a warmup on a hilly route in wind is never going to feel good but that’s easy to point out now. Anyway I had my 20 minutes done and got back to the car to stretch a bit and try get focussed. I met my sister who was doing her first 10k and relaxed and hung out with her for a while before we all walked up towards the line which was about 1km away.
So here I was, standing at the start line which was at the bottom of a 400m climb and then followed by a generous downhill, an apt introduction to what would be a race of literal ups and downs. I saw a few handy looking runners around but really felt I shouldn’t do any worse than 2nd place today. The rain was staring to bucket down a little hard now but it was cool, I’d take that any day over the warm evening heat. A rough plan was to take it out reasonably conservative, making sure I don’t end up breathing like maniac too early and getting another stitch. I knew whatever happened there should be too much daylight between myself and Mick based on midweek, if I run like I know I can.
Mile 1 – 5:08
A generous countdown of 10 and it’s game time. It’s always a bit easier to power up a hill at the start of a race knowing there’s relief forthcoming. Mick surged to the front with a guy in red alongside him and myself behind. When we hit the downhill which went on for a good half a mile and I got into a good stride, moved into 2nd with Mick pulling away a little. We passed the finish line which I would have liked if it was the actual finish but I’d hopefully be seeing again very soon. With about 400m left in the first mile and as expected, pace plummeted as I hit the first tough climb, into the wind. I felt I had a nice bit of course knowledge having driven it so I knew what was coming and nothing was going to surprise me. 5:08 popped up on the watch, irrelevant in a way but that’s grand I said. Feeling ok, keep this up.
Mile 2 – 5:09
Effort was tough. Climbing for half of a mile into a strong headwind was not easy this early on but it was in the territory of just get your head down and grind through. I tried to just focus on Mick who was maybe 30m ahead of me now and clearly also battling the wind and drag as the gap just stayed the same. I got to 1.5 miles and knew there was a nice downhill stretch coming so I was ready to let the legs take a little breather. I turned left, opened the legs up and tried to relax and enjoy this stretch. The gap on Mick was the same and possibly even closing at this stage. I was feeling good, no side issues and quite settled into the race.
Mile 3 – 4:56
Hitting the start of mile 3, I was still in downhill wonderland all the time thinking “I’m going to pay for this aren’t I”. I hit the lowest elevation of the course at 2.5 miles and then there were a few sneaky lumps still to deal with before we’d hit the next big climb. The gap on Mick had been closing and all the time I was starting to gain confidence even if I wasn’t sure where it was leading. Even if I just got back up to him I thought, let’s see what happens then. By the end of mile it was only a couple of yards. At one point it just hit me that I’m within touching distance of an Olympian, one I’ve admired from a far distance for most of my running life. How on earth did I get here? I can touch his hair. We hit the start of the climb at the end of this mile and now it felt like a race was starting.
Mile 4 – 5:10
This for me was the most important mile. Post-race, I stalked a few other uploaded runs on Strava and this is where people seriously haemorrhaged time. It’s also the climb we were warned about. That makes it an opportunity. Suddenly though I was right there. I was back with him and made a conscious effort to run to the side knowing how irritating it is to run on the shoulder of someone. I didn’t need or want a windbreak though as I wasn’t really planning on sitting. I figured that this window right now, this is the time to pull ahead. He probably knew he had a good gap over the opening miles so now I needed him to know that not only did I close the gap but that I’m still feeling good after closing the gap. There was no point just getting back to him and relaxing. I was feeling strong on the hills all day (well, as good as you can feel on a hill) and the strength of the miles I’ve put in this year really felt like it was shining through. I noticed I was actually putting in a gap now, not huge but enough to call it gap. Was I actually daring to pass Mick? I had no doubt he wouldn’t be sitting down. He’s used to winning races. I worked the arms up the hill. Breathing was hard but controlled and I was making sure to really open up the lungs and take intentional large breaths. Anything I could do to avoid a recurrence of the stitch. I knew relief was forthcoming on the top with a flat section and if I could maintain this small gap then why not back myself to hold on. It was exhilarating and I was so glad we had made a race of it. Running is just terrific. Here I am, the back arse of Wexford with the rain bucketing down, running my guts out up a hill with an Olympian chasing me. Wow. We levelled out halfway through the mile, I had a few meters on him maybe. We turned left with a wind on our back, still feeling good and it was feeling like the start of the finish. This was marginally my slowest mile at 5:10 but on the whole, that was the best mile.
Mile 5 – 4:50
I was now just two miles from home and I knew I still had that gap which felt like it was growing marginally every minute. I had to make it count now and just focus, focus, focus. In my head I told myself it’s just 10 minutes of running. Hold the line. There was a flat section which allowed a little recovery from the gruelling climb and then it merged onto a beautiful downhill section where I started to fall into a nice state of race flow. The arms were relaxed, the breathing controlled and my little legs were whirring. It was around now I really genuinely thought I could win it but there was no denying the shroud of doubt looming over me. I can’t describe though how terrifying it is to know Mick Clohisey is chasing you down. What have I done. I knew he wasn’t far away as those thudding footsteps I could hear were certainly not mine. 4:50 for the mile popped up. I’m on it. This is good. I’m also starting to hurt and I know there’s another vicious hill up ahead so I really needed that concentration. We had already turned left again and on the home stretch back towards Inch. This was the old Dublin road which I know pretty well, back when we didn’t have an M11. My eyes were now firmly focussed on the back of a black leather jacket perched on the lead motorcycle, urging me to pursue him up the hard shoulder. I’ll follow you, Mr. Motorcycle. I wonder could I possibly take a peek at your rear-view mirrors to see if I have company?
Mile 6 – 5:05
This was mostly a climbing mile which meant if I didn’t put in the same shift with the same intensity like I did on mile 4, I’d be caught and ejected from my pedestal. I was so close now. I was almost screaming to myself internally. It’s just one mile. ONE mile! But what about the bit? the 0.2 of a mile? Don’t worry about the bit, just get the mile done and the bit will look after itself. A pesky drag, while still moving fairly well, took me to 5.5 miles and then the course presented me with its final and toughest challenge of the day. Overcome this fearsome anti-gravity obstacle and you may well descend as the victor. I hit the hill as hard as I could. Up the travelator. I was starting to hurt bad now and the dreaded side even felt like it was hinting at trouble but lucky that’s all it ended up being, a hint. Breathing was laboured, grunts were emanating and the legs were burning. I was possibly in deranged rag-doll territory, I don’t know. I pumped the arms again, gritted the teeth and listened intently for movement behind me. I swore I could hear something but there wasn’t a hope in hell I was looking back. That’s akin to holding up a little white flag with “I’m scared” written on it. The hill was sharp but short, maybe 600m but it felt like an eternity. Finally I could feel the crest coming to me. I could see where we came out at the start which meant
the steep downhill to the finish was at hand. He wouldn’t pass me here would he? I was not letting anything to chance so once elevation was back on my side, I exploited every ounce of gravity I could and I bolted. I knew my parents were heading up to be at the finish so I really wanted to do this for them. They’ve been such a great support over the years and I wanted to do them proud. “You did us proud son”, they’d say. No better place to do it than on home soil (well, fairly close to home soil). I hit the 6th mile rolling down the hill and according to my calculations that means the finish line is less than 400 meters close. I still had no idea how close Mick was so nothing was guaranteed and I have to leave it all out there. I could now see a congregating crowd, mostly covered by umbrellas. I forgot it was raining. It was lashing. The motorcycle I’d tailgated for the last 3 miles pulled to the side of the road and beeped, as if it were releasing a rescued monkey back into the wild. Go free monkey boy. I could see my parents, my brother in-law and my nephews and nieces. No time to chat everyone. I threw the thumbs up their way and then crossed that sweet finish line 1st in 31:26. Unreal. Mick came in just 10 seconds behind me. I was right to be wary and glad I squeezed every drop I could out of the last section. Losing concentration anywhere in those last 2 miles could have easily meant 10 seconds lost and a hard luck pat on the back. We executed the now standard elbow touch, acknowledging the culmination of a good honest race. Hanging in there for 3 miles with Mick breathing down my neck suddenly felt like a big deal. What a moment for me personally. A blip on the radar for Mick but a big one for the little guy. It’s right up there.
I couldn’t quite believe the time I managed to run on that course, especially given the first couple of miles when I felt anything between 32 and 33 minutes was going to be a decent run. And yes, I shouldn’t have been even thinking about that but there’s a lot of time for thinking in a race. It was even marginally quicker than the other night and that just highlights what can happen when you’re primarily focussed on the race and not the time. I also couldn’t have predicted how it all turned out considering my wavering shenanigans in the warm-up where I was trying to conjure reasons not to run. If I step back, I can see that I’ve put together one of the best training blocks of my life over the past 6 months and this felt like it was the fruits starting to bear. I need to trust in that more, deal in facts and the confidence will persist. Beating someone of Mick’s calibre is not something I’ve achieved in all of my years running. I know he’s not in the top shape of his life right now and struggling with the glute but still, he’s out there racing and quite competitive as we saw in Dundrum so that really felt like a knockout above my weight. Maybe I won’t fear the top dogs so much anymore. And I shouldn’t, they’re just other runners. Intimidating runners that are human and can be beaten. I put in the work, I’ve years of consistency and experience behind me at this stage so why shouldn’t I back myself to contend with some of the best in the country.