I write this post as I near the end of a two week holiday in Cape Verde, Sal Island. A super place to spend the second half of January, a generally dreary sort of month back home. Average temperatures of 24 degrees this time of year and lots of vitamin D soaked up, along with some super running has me back to normal after a few tough weeks injury wise over the Christmas.
So the big question, 2020 and what it holds on an racing and challenging level. My motto for the year is positive thinking as always, look to the future and have fun in the present, with some challenging days thrown in, for good measure!
Looks like Gaelforce Sky Run in March, now a skyline race. 22km in connemara, one I’ve raced before but hopefully I’ll be in better condition this year than the last time about 5 years ago. It will be a bit of a fast first race of 2020 but with some cross country in February and all the running on the beach here, I should be up to speed!
Then it’s on to the little one for the year on the 7th of April. I’m heading to Lesotho, South Africa, with Team Moxie Racers for Expedition Africa, a 4 to 6 day Adventure race in one of the hilliest, high altitude African countries there is. Mountain biking, hiking/running, kayaking, horse riding, abseiling, swimming and who knows what else awaits. Some of the top AR teams will be taking part from all around the world and I feel lucky to be involved with one of the Irish ones. Lots to follow on this but it will be some experience.
After Africa I will have to judge how the body is for May, maybe throwing in the Burren marathon if I recover well, but the main event for the summer is Lavaredo Ultra trail on the 27th of June in the Dolomites, Italy. I’ve been looking forward to this one for a long time! 125km in the heat in the mountains, sure what could possibly go wrong.
Gonna throw myself into the epic 50km Seven Sisters early August and then hopefully head to Chamonix at the end of the month, to train, not race this year, and crew for my good friends Shaun Stewart in the UTMB and Sinead Keogh in the CCC. A fun week to end the summer no doubt. Between all this I might have to work, a lot, but let’s hope it’s a good year. All going well I’ll throw another ultra in as 2020 draws to a close, at least one!!
This post comes after my longest ever layoff from my blog. Lets just say it has been a rollercoaster of an end to a pretty crazy year but as you can see above there were some pretty amazing highlights, not only winning The Race in Donegal but finishing the TDS with family and friends there to support. I’ve enjoyed my racing and training this year and one of my resolutions (which I’m slow to make) is to blog more often in 2020. Before I start a quick recap of 2019.
I started the year living in the camper van and working in Dorset with Inshore fisheries. Throughout this period I trained mostly in the gym, with runs in the woods and hills in Dorset as well as some long runs up in Bristol on my days off. This training and a lot of gym time was all leading up to The Race in Donegal and I hoped to improve on my time for 2017. Of course this was all blown out of the water with a win in 14:49:08 and 30 mins quicker than two years previous. Dreams do come through if you follow them and work for them hard enough. I’m unlikely to return in 2020 but hopefully some day.
With the start of a new role with Inland Fisheries I had moved to Foxford, Co. Mayo only a few weeks before The Race, and the job was my number one priority in the coming months, settling in and getting to know my colleagues and a new area of work. It has been a good year workwise and this looks set to continue in 2020.
Thanks to all my family for incredible support all year again, not to mention the likes of Sinead and Kieron who helped crew at the TDS and offered support and advice all year.
After the race I took time to recover and next up was the Burren marathon. I was possibly still a bit fatigued and after giving it a good bash I slipped down from 2nd to 9th overall with a very poor last 7km. This will change on my return in 2020, all going well. That said it was an amazing marathon and one I would recommend to anyone looking for a little off road on the marathon route.
Next up was my return to Wicklow to murder that yellow man that haunted me over the last 2 years. He was gonna get smashed. I ran The Wicklow way in a comfortable state, not pushing too hard at any point. 130km completed and over 3 hours quicker than 2 years ago in 15:44. I met Fabio and Gordon and ran with them half the day, super guys I have bumped into a few times since. Great day out lads!!
After Wicklow I knew I had good distance in the legs looking ahead to the TDS. It was only a matter of steady training and staying injury free for the summer. I would throw the Seven Sisters 50km into the mix to get a race with plenty vertical gain in before heading to France. I finished the Seven Sisters in 7 hours and 12 mins, enough to get 3rd place. Nice little podium I hadn’t expected!
And then on to the TDS just over a month later and a return to Chamonix in France. No doubt the most incredible, mind numbing and bending race of my life. I finished in a dream 92nd place in 27 hours and 11 mins. Beyond anything I have ever experienced. A little summary can be found below in previous posts!
After TDS I rested and got back into light training pretty quick, ramping things up and competing in the Mournes Mountain Skyline race at the end of October. It wasn’t my greatest day but I managed to finish 20 minutes faster than two years previous so all in all a massive improvement in 2019.
The winter has confined training to the gym and some runs at weekends but life has been a bit all over the place and minor injuries, not to be complained about, have curtailed things for the last 2 weeks. These injured times do help you to reflect and bring everything into perspective. The most important thing is to realise how lucky you are to be healthy.
I have a few little surprises to come in 2020. Let’s just say it is gonna be a big one! For now, A Massive Happy New Year to everyone. Here’s to 2020!!
“Sur les Traces des Ducs de Savoie” (the footprints of the Dukes of Savoie) TDS
A 145 kilometre ultramarathon, the second longest in the UTMB series, from Courmayeur in Italy around Mont Blanc to Chamonix in France. A mere 9100 metres of climbing and descending on some of the most technical of trails in the world. What had I gotten myself into!
After completing the seven sisters in Donegal, I trained for three weeks, keeping things short and sharp and really just minding myself, staying healthy and strong. This involved plenty core work and a focus on balance and strength. I hoped to run a pain free race, in comparison to carrying injury throughout in 2018.
I ate as normal and stayed away, as much as possible from sugar and very little beer or crappy food. Arriving at that start line feeling healthy was my number one goal, everything after that I will explain in my summary of what turned out to be one hell of a race in so many ways! It is impossible to remember it all well and I hope I can give you a small insight into running in the Alps.
Arriving in the gorgeous Chamonix on Sunday I met up with my crew for the event. It is impossible to stress, for me anyhow, how important a crew is. This event would prove me right in this regard. Sinead and Kieron once again joining to help, and spend the week in one of their favourite places (chamonix during UTMB week!). My parents were on holidays in France again in the campervan and drove all the way to Chamonix to support me, and my sister Lisa arrived on Tuesday before the race started at 4am on Wednesday. Absolute legends all 5 of you, and boy did I feel lucky to have one of the biggest crews in the race!
Monday was a rest, sleep and eat day and Tuesday, registration, meeting some of the other Irish athletes and getting the head ready for what lay ahead. I met up with our lead Tailwind ambassador Ryan Hogben and it was great to meet him in person after a long time talking online. I got to bed around 8pm and was up again at 1.30am to get ready for a 2.15am bus to Courmayeur for the start. Around 1750 runners made their way to the start line, over 900 of whom wouldn’t make the finish. Let the war of attrition start !
Kit. I ran in my Salomon s-labs, wore Salomon bag with mandatory kit and 2 x 500ml soft flasks filled with Tailwind, a singlet (better in a t-shirt in future) and of course my Black Diamond poles on my hip belt. Keep the kit simple and as light as possible. Mandatory kit includes the waterproofs and thermal gear so it isn’t a super light pack but I don’t really notice it anymore.
The nerves weren’t close to as bad as last year and I soaked it all up as Dee and Lisa hung out along the barrier by my side. Runners from all corners of the world gathered in the dark in Cormayeur We had decided that Dee and Lisa would crew at the first big aid station, Bourg Saint Maurice at 50km, and from there Sinead and Kieron would take over for the 90 km Beaufort stop and the 121 km Les Contamines stop. This would give the crews time to rest and make their days a little easier. The route can be seen below, giving you some idea of the map and the types of climbs involved.
So as I begin to tell this story, almost 2 weeks after the race, it is very hard to explain how I have felt since this race. It was the hardest race of my life, no doubt, and the fact that it has taken me two full weeks to get my head around things in order to write a little, says it all. Most races I am itching to write, this one had me thinking about myself and my future in the sport, leaving me with some very confused feelings that I will try to portray to you in the following paragraphs.
The gun went off in Courmayeur at 4.01am and I squeezed my way into the top 200 runners, or thereabouts. We ran down the street of Courmayeur where supporters lined up in their hundreds. From here we turned towards the mountains and the climbing began almost instantly. I had the poles out after about 10 minutes and settled into a steady climb. It was dark for the first few hours and we basically climbed in a massive chain to the first checkpoint at Checrouit and from here we kept climbing to about 2500 metres. There was a sharp downhill from here down into a valley and up to the checkpoint at Lac Combal, where I realised I was already ahead of time but hadn’t pushed hard at all. The daylight had arrived and the sunrise around the steep peaks surrounding the valley were spectacular. I heard my first sound of cow bells in the valley below. This would become a familiar sound as the day went by. At Lac Combal I stopped for a toilet break and managed to eat some fruit and a few bits of cake. In hindsight, I probably should of eaten more early on..
The next section saw a sharp climb to 2600 metres at Col Chavannes. The views here were possibly the most amazing of the entire course with mountains rising into the sky and the valleys below glistening in the early sunshine, which was already heating up a bit. After Col Chavannes I tucked away the poles and got myself ready for a long downhill. It went on and on and on for almost 20 km. Not steep but relentless. I held back as much as I could. I found myself still passing a good few people while one or two runners flew by me, going way to fast for this early on in a race of such magnitude. I would see most of these runners in some format or another later on. I began to recognise maybe 10 runners that would mix and match for about 60 km or so. It began to feel lonely already at 35 km as I realised that very few of the runners spoke english or were up for much chat. This was turning into the pointy end of the race, as I found out as I arrived at Bourg Saint Maurice at 51 km. I had enjoyed the majority of the first 50km, apart from that very long downhill section. I was climbing well, my stomach was good, but it had started heating up alot and the downhills were fast, meaning the body was taking a beating. The mental battle had begun, one third of the way into the race. Physically I was in super shape, but the thoughts of another 100km crept in. I know myself how to deal with tough mental battles but something was taking over in my head and I knew I had a mission ahead!
Dee and Lisa were super in Bourg Saint Maurice and after a mandatory kit check, I left the aid station in good spirits, although roasted!
I really enjoyed my ginger cake and the fact Lisa informed me I was currently in 153rd position gave me a morale boost. The crowds of supporters and atmosphere here were amazing also.
The next section from 51 to about 72 km included a few absolutely brutal climbs and it was getting warm. I knew the make or break section of the race was basically from 50 to 90 km. This included 2 climbs totalling about 1500 metres and a long descent to Col de Roselend. Lisa and Dee were there to see me and I was flying on this descent, feeling really good. Dee ran over the hill beside me towards the aid station and my heart was in my mouth thinking she could have a fall watching me while trying to sprint over the hill! The climbs were really tough but I was going well and eating as much as I could. I was drinking like a fish and just about staying hydrated. The climb from Bourg Saint Maurice for 6km was over 1300 metres of up and had been the toughest so far but I had taken it reasonably easy and being at 70 km or half way in just over 10 hours and lying in 122 position, you could say all was going to plan.
After Col de Roselend there was yet another mammoth climb and the day was warm at this point. Another 10 km and roughly 2 hours later I was at about 80 km and was beginning to feel crap. As you can see I was averaging 5 km/hr and I was exhausted, a little dizzy, unable to eat, and the climbing was getting slower by the minute. I felt ok on the downhills but the minute I went above 2000 metres I was out of breath and my heart was pounding in my chest. That 10 km had taken me to La Gittaz where a few runners were lying and sitting trying to recover a little. I kept moving as I realised another 10 km and I would be at Beaufort, it would be about 7pm and the night would bring cool air and maybe a new me.
The following 11km included a climb from 1664 metres to 2236 metres and then a descent of 8 km to 739 metres in Beaufort. A descent of over 1500 metres was an absolute head melter. I reckon looking back on it, that the pounding the body gets on these downhills was what upset my system and was the main reason I felt so poorly on arrival at Beaufort. I wanted to eat but couldn’t. The fact that you are going up and down to altitude probably has a bearing but all in all I think it’s the pounding and the amount of concentration involved in the sheer technicality of these descents. Boulders, loose rock, gravel, sand, trees and roots from the trees. All this for every descent, most of which were 6km plus. It takes a toll and at 91 km I thought I was beaten. I stayed in the aid station for 50 minutes and in this time I only ate, two small pots of sorbet (kindly found by Kieron) and a bowl of soup with noodles. I ran into the bathroom, overheating for a mini puke and got a full medical check over by the doctor a little after that. To my amazement in the 50 minutes I was sitting down I jumped from something like 105th position to 96th. Runners were dropping like flies. They were asleep in the corners, on beds, getting medical checks and hopping on buses back to Chamonix.
I can honestly say that in my few years ultrarunning this was the closest I have come to a DNF. I felt awful. But Sinead talked to me and told me once medics were happy, I was ok. Having someone there at this point was crucial. The fact that Sinead had Ultra experience and I trusted her judgement was huge. I said I would try and get to the next checkpoint and see how things were then. This after a little ly down with my legs in the air to try feel a little bit better!
A 500 metre climb and about 8 km of distance would get me to Hauteluce. I bumped into a Bulgarian guy on the way and he was suffering from the exact same symptoms as me. We hiked slowly on the uphills, sitting down a few times to try and breath. He was falling asleep while running but we kept each other moving and ran the downhill sections really well. I normally pick things up well at night but the 8 km took two hours and my pace had slowed significantly. I met Sinead down the road from Hautleluce and she said I looked better. I told her I would stick with my new friend and we would help eachother knock out the next big climb to Col de Very and from there up to Col du Joly. At Col de Very I had to say goodbye to my new friend, who had been running in the top 50 earlier in the race, as he hopped into the aid station van for a 20 minute nap. It had gotten dangerous on the descent to this checkpoint as he was falling asleep while running beside a cliff!
On I went, alone again, but I started to run well. The climbs were slow but I felt a little better and even though the humidity of the night meant I was sweating all the time, I felt a little bit of energy returning. The night was clear with stars as bright as I’ve ever seen and the dots of headlights on far away hills showed me that I was still running in a super position and I needed to keep those positive thoughts flowing. I thought Col du Joly would never arrive but at 20.41 I arrived and would mostly descend from there to Les Contamines Montjoie. Over 11km of a descending. Once again this felt rough on the body , but I had no muscle pains. At the end of the descent there was a long, long flat section along by a river that wound its way around the town before arriving at Les Contamines Montjoie. I actually opened up the legs a bit and ran this section well, realising I was turning a corner at this point and the bad feelings were starting to disappear.
Sinead was happy to see me in better spirits and after eating and a quick toilet break I decided to move quickly and start the next climb. “I’m not stopping you, I’m actually asking you to get up and leave, you have this”. were Sineads words. There were two sections to the next climb. A huge steep section that must of taken 40 minutes to ascend followed by an even steeper climb up to the Col de Tricot at 2105 metres. This was an absolute killer climb. I sat down twice to try and get my breathing down and eat something. I failed but managed to keep drinking coke and water and at the top I knew that was my last really big one in the bag. Nine or so Carrauntoohill Mountains under the belt in one sitting, most of which started at the same height as the top of this very mountain! I looked back into the night and down the vast steep trail of switchbacks I had just climbed. The headlights dotted the landscape, all moving at my slow pace at this point. I was passed by a few and I managed to overtake a few runners throughout the last few hours, but I wasn’t too concerned about placing, it was all about surviving. That last climb was probably my slowest ever with my pace around 2.96km/hr. But I was at the top in about 2 hours and 30 minutes from Les Contamines and it was 4.30 in the morning. I had just bagged a PB for my longest over run, over 130 km and with a 9km descent to Bellevue and then Les Houches, I was on the home stretch. At this point I just wanted to keep the legs moving and a top 100 finish would be a super bonus. I ran the downhill well again and had the privilege of high fiving two mailboxes as I arrived into Les Houches, convinced they were two kids out on the course. Yep I was tiring! I arrived in Les Houches in 26 hours and 9 minutes and would turn the corner after a reasonably flat 8 km along the river in Chamonix just over an hour later. This section was probably the most enjoyment I had all day. That was after I tried to eat some cake in Les Houches and ended up vomiting under a tree for a minute or two as the system rejected food once more!
I ran a steady pace into Chamonix and the streets were quiet as I arrived. Some runners were out for a morning stroll and clapped me on. I saw the finishing street and there was Lisa, Sinead, Kieron, Dee and Pat all waiting to cheer me in. I grabbed the Irish Flag from Lisa, a tradition in UTMB to show where you are from and ran across the line to what was more a massive relief that anything. You are so tired it is hard to say how amazing it feels but knowing I came so close to not finishing was what gave me this relief. I was in 92nd out of 1091 finishers, 81st Senior male and in a time of 27.11.
Not too shabby for one hell of an adventure, not only for the body but most definitely for the mind.
As I mentioned earlier in the post, I was confused as to what this race did to me as a runner. I realise now how far I can go and maybe even further. I realise the mental battle often talked about and how it is hell to be as low as you get but is bliss when you pull yourself out of these lows and finish. I feel now like I am more motivated than ever to trail run, I feel it is a bigger part of my life in so many ways than it was even a year ago, I feel so lucky to be able to compete and complete such events as TDS and lets hope I can stay healthy and fit for years to come to enjoy it this much. Thanks to everyone that encouraged me and followed the progress throughout. I know a few of you were glued to it. Hopefully there will be plenty more to come.
The biggest thanks obviously goes to the crew. Ye were what made this one possible.
Last weekend hosted the second year of the Seven Sisters Skyline races which took place in Donegal and it was the first year of the Ultra distance of 50km. The 26km race took place on Saturday. I decided to enter the 50km, mainly due to the fact that it involved 4000 metres of elevation gain, but also because it is now 4 weeks out from TDS and this would be the perfect training. Now as mentioned before the fact that a 50km race in the mountains of Donegal is now a training session, is kinda worrying, but it is what it is!
My last 8 weeks since Wicklow Way Race have been crazy busy with long shifts through the night and early starts, meaning I have trained when I can, but all in all I have managed it reasonably well. I concentrated almost solely on climbing and descending, going up Nephin mountain 5 times one week and doing repeats on the mountain on numerous occasions. No major distance running due to the fact that I have most of that training done, but relentless climbs are the key.
I have tried to mimic the Alps in my little Mayo mountains and hopefully this training will improve my climbing abilities.
So myself and Donegal have a definite connection. I always enjoy my trips north and I’ve had some good races up there. The Seven Sisters wasn’t a goal race where I had hoped to do too well, knowing there were many UK and international runners coming for the Skyline series. At the same time I was hoping to be in top 10 throughout and with some endurance in the legs hopefully claw myself into the top 5. So here’s how things turned out.
As you can see it is very much up and down all day. We set off from the base of the mighty Errigal mountain at 7am, around 90 runner’s introduced to one hell of a course by Eunan Quinn and Shaun Stewart. Shaun having won the race last year and helped with the course design, was unable to run this year with a broken collarbone. The course would immediately climb from the carpark, through the bog, skirting past Errigal on your left before climbing the first peak of Mackoght mountain. Being a Skyrunning UK/Ireland national series race the lads looking for points took off up the hill, with myself just behind, doing my own thing. Shaun was marshal at the top of the first short climb and even though early in the race it was nice to see a familiar face.
From here we ran some nice wet downhills, onto a grassy road section and picked up some good speed as the course wound it’s way all the way down to the ruins of the old Altan Castle on the shores of a gorgeous lake. The mist was starting to close in and drop down the mountains. I knew there was a wet day ahead but it wasn’t cold. Next up was the longest climb of the day to Aghla Mor mountain where we would reach a marshal and then do an out and back to the very top of the peak at a cairn. This was where the field began to split. There was the front 3 lads, already 5 minutes ahead, then myself and three guys on my tail before a bit of a gap to the next bunch. It was easy tell where people were as we passed on the out and back section in the mist.
After Aghla Mor we descended along some nice technical bog and heather ground. Aghla Beag was next up and this included two peaks both divided by some steep descents. I was pushing hard on the ascents and using the poles to my advantage before slotting them away and letting myself go on the downhills. The terrain was so bad underfoot that huge concentration was needed on the downhill in particular. Stones hidden under the heather could be your end!
It was a super battle in 4th, 5th, 6th and 7th place with a Polish guy passing me as we descended towards the base of Muckish. We would run a 1km section on the road before taking a right across ‘the bridge of tears’ and starting the incredible climb and scramble up the side of Muckish mountain. This was tough, demanding but bloody class at the same time. We ran along tiny ridges, scrambled up steep ridgelines with drops on either side. I looked up mostly, as I ‘m not hugely in favour of the massive drops below! We bumped into Ian corless, the photographer and ultra podcaster, not far from the top and I was impressed by his quality positioning on the trail. Here’s one of his shots below.
At the top of Muckish we passed the mighty Cairn, which was the turn around point in The Race 2019, and from here took a left towards the Miner’s pass. You couldn’t see more than 20 metres ahead at this point and following the marker flags was tricky. We went wrong for 2 minutes at the top before finding our way to the path. The descent off Muckish is epic with rocks, sandy trails, boulders and scree thrown in for good measure. A pure trail runners dream!
At the bottom of Muckish we had 20km under the belts and we would turn around, do it all again and add in Errigal mountain and another 6km on some backroads and trails before the finish.
I was feeling good, not going into the red too much, eating jellies, drinking Tailwind and filling one of my bottles with coke for the return journey. The return trip came off Muckish on the same route as The Race, making it a pretty quick descent and we started the climb up onto Aghla Beag range in pretty good form. I was feeling strong and knew I could maintain this climbing speed for a few more hours. It was now a battle for 4th place between myself and Marek, the Polish guy stuck to my tail!
Marek was hard to shake, clearly a really strong competitor. We would be close for the majority of the return. I was running well on the downhills and hiking strongly uphill and enjoyed the crazy rain that fell at times. This was solely due to the 17 or more degrees temperatures.
The return climbs were very similar to the way out and after passing through CP3 where the always encouraging Fiona Nic Fhionnlaoich was marshal, I knew I had about 13km with only 2 big climbs left to conquer. Fiona was nice enough to send on a few photos at this point in the race.
Back up to the top of Mackoght and a cool descent down to the North face of Errigal I went before looking up at the sheer climb ahead. This would be a scramble to over 700 metres but I absolutely loved it. I could see I had put a gap between myself and Marek at this point, but it was only a small one. I needed to push up Errigal and slingshot off the little mountain to try and secure 4th place. The climb was rocky and steep and the views down the valley soon disappeared into the mist. Up and up I climbed along some steep and crazy edges. And once at the top I paused for a few seconds to remember the last time I stood on top of Errigal. This was in 2017 when we broke the FKT for the 26 peaks, finishing on Errigal at sunset. This and other positive thoughts are what push you through tough races. Now it was time to sprint down off the mighty peak.
A little clip as I came off Errigal.
From here the course wound it’s way down the road and descended down to a trail that brought us around the lake and over the dam before crossing the finish line in Dunlewy village at Errigal Hostel. I slowed up for the first time all day in the last few kilometres on the road. I didn’t push myself to speed up as I knew I had 4th place wrapped up and wanted an injury free race. I found the main road and crossed the line and as I did Eunan called out that I was 3rd place. I had passed a guy walking after Errigal and would then realise that he had been in 2nd but had fallen on Errigal. I felt happy to finish 4th but this was a nice little bonus all the same. The main thing was that the guy in question was ok and finished in 5th place in the end. Fair play Adam Quinn for finishing in those circumstances. This will stand to him in the future.
So 3rd place, a podium and a good long workout in the bag. 7 Hours 12 minutes in total. Fair play to the one and only Rachel Nolan for coming 2nd Female and putting in another great performance. A slog in the bog with 14 peaks thrown in is the best way I can describe this one. But I would say it is by far the toughest 50km you can do and one of the most spectacular in Ireland. Yes I will be back next year, all going well!
Next up, France and the TDS. Just 3 times the length of this one and over twice the climbing, 146.3km and 9100 metres up!!!
Check out Ian Corless summary below, nicely summed up.
There I am smiling away on the Wicklow Way, as I did for large portions of this epic race in the Wicklow hills. I will phrase that slightly differently, to say that this is a race, however for all but a few it is more of a challenge to reach the line. Starting in Marley Park and finishing about 127km south of the Wicklow hills in Clonegal Co. Carlow this is no run for the faint hearted. Some of you may remember my horrible race report from 2017, when I finished but in some discomfort. I had mostly hated the yellow men markers and had really not remembered anything positive from my experience. With this in mind I decided to give Wicklow a second chance and boy did it pay off.
The race started at 12am with approximately 90 runners lining up, about 30 of whom wouldn’t see the finish line for different reasons but all were in high spirits and ready for the night ahead.
My coach and good buddy Sinead would be my crew for the day at aid stations in Glendalough at 50k, Ironbridge at 80k and The Dying Cow at 101km. Knowing Sinead was there with her experience was key to my confidence in a good run.
Taking a few crazy months of work, lack of training properly and a few too many late nights the weekend before, my preparation wasn’t great, but I had slept well all week and felt ready for the challenge ahead. There was zero pressure on and my plan along with Sinead’s advice was to go steady and in comfort zone all day and if feeling poorly at any time I could pull out. Now you know me and the words pull out, DNF, and the fact that they don’t exist in my vocabulary, but I had decided that in this race I would drop if I was too sore. This is all training for the TDS.
I will keep this post as short as possible and really narrow it down to my thoughts on the day. I could go into fine detail but I feel you will enjoy a brief synopsis more. The gun went thanks to a countdown from Eoin Keith, one of the top endurance runners in Ireland. Robbie Britton and Gavin Byrne were due a showdown for the day. Robbie, basically being pro and Gavin, having come on leaps and bounds in the last 2 years was flying and in super form, expecting to both push the course record close. I, however, was not in the same league, nor was I planning to race anyone around me. I would run by feel and see where this led me. If in a position to nick into top 10 in the latter stages all good and well but this was a training race, full stop.
The night was nice to start but as we made our way into the hills the mist came down and following a brief stop at checkpoint 1 in Crone the weather closed in for an hour or two on the next few climbs. The early section has plenty climbing but some lovely technical stuff and downhills too which were fun in the dark.
A very quick transition in Crone and off up to climb Djouce mountain in the mist and rain and howling gales. You couldn’t see your hand, let alone the person on front of you. I spent some of the climb with eventual ladies winner, Aoife Mundow, who came to Dorset with us last year and she is becoming a top ultrarunner. Her partner Pol O Murchu was out on the course all night and day and his support was super. I was only minutes ahead of Aoife for the day so it helped me as much as her. The section from Crone to Glendalough is around 28km and feels long as the body tires between 3 and 6 in the morning. Long sections of slippy boardwalk didn’t help matters but did focus the mind. I was going steady and had planned a 5.45am arrival in Glendalough. I think I arrived at 5.40am so all good at this point. I changed my top and runners and had a quick bite to eat and glass of flat coke from Sinead. I had no niggles and was feeling tired but not sore so onwards and upwards was the call.
The views in Glendalough just as morning was coming alive were top notch. The lake, waterfall and the hills opening up down the valley. I was smiling as I left the checkpoint and enjoying myself. I really wondered how this was to be honest, over an ultramarathon in the bag already. Just 2 marathons to go now!
I stopped for a toilet break a few minutes out from Glendalough and to my surprise this didn’t knock me back as I began to catch an Italian guy, now known to me as Fabio, soon after my stop. He had been literally metres ahead of me now for hours and I was sort of pacing off him. I caught up with him and we chatted all the way to Ironbridge, the day warming up alot at this point and the sun beaming down. There were lots of long slow climbs on fire-roads with some steep sections off road mixed in, but to be honest I was just enjoying the chat and the realization that in a race like this you might be tired and hurting but everyone is in the same boat.
We reached Ironbridge at 79km in about 9 hours and I was feeling ridiculously good considering. I launched into some water melon, loads of flat coke and replaced my tailwind with water in one bottle and coke in the other. The Tailwind had been super for 9 hours, but I just needed a change for a while. Aoife cruised into transition just before we left and came out pretty much just as we left too! Delighted to see her going so well. I waited an extra minute or two for Fabio in transition knowing that a minute or two was no real issue to me at this point. Having a running buddy for the next 50km would mean a lot. We soon picked off two runners and then met another one in Gordon. Gordon would stick with us, so now we had three amigos! Anyone we would meet from now on could register for our gang we decided, as long as they were sound!
We would chat and moan as we transitioned from uphill to downhill to flat roads. The worst thing after 80km is the transitioning of the muscles. You feel grand as you go up but a pain runs through the legs as you change muscles to hit the downhills. I actually felt incredibly good and now that I had completed my real goal of 80km I could try enjoy the rest. I was taking it all in, making friends with the yellow men along the way. I said sorry to them for the way I had spoken badly of the Wicklow Way for 2 years. The views as we climbed up along farmland, wound our way down country roads, through farm gates, under falling trees, over fallen trees and along river banks were just amazing. It may not be the Alps but it has its own sort of beauty.
The 100km mark was huge for the lads as it was the longest either of them had ever ran. I felt privileged to be with them for this moment. I knew when they hit this that they would make the finish as well. Fabio went through a big low in this section but we helped each other through any low moments and for a few lads that met only hours before we became friends. This is ultarunning.
Sinead was at the Dying Cow and said we were making lots of time and moving better than they expected. I could see we were on for a good finishing time and had agreed with the lads not to sit down and that this transition was a refill/top change and nothing more. If you sit at this point it will slow you dramatically. I also had a small pain starting on the inside of my left leg but it wouldn’t stop me as long as I kept moving.
After the Dying Cow pub checkpoint it is basically mind games on fire-roads and digging deep for a few hours. There were a few heavy showers at this point and we all threw our jackets on for a while. Dragging each other up relentless long hills and trying to let the legs go on the downhills. We were actually flying on the downhill sections and I don’t think any of us could’ve moved as fast on our own over this last 26km. The final checkpoint was at Raheenakit, just after the steep climb up Coronary Hill. I was still loving the hills with the flats being my enemy. The final 15km flew by, in comparison to it feeling like days in 2017. It just goes to show how with miles and experience in the legs, 2 years can mean a lot.
We finally left the last of the fireroad sections and met Pol on the road, for the 30th time! He said there was 5km to the finish and it was mostly downhill. Off we went. I think we did the last 5km in about 21 minutes. Not bad after 122km. It was mostly a gradual downhill with a few uphills, which we ran as well. Cruising into Clonegal and touching the sign at the finish all in unison in 15 hours and 44 minutes in joint 8th position. We had made a decision to do this at least 30km before the finish. Job really well done. I had taken 3 hours and 5 minutes off my time from 2 years ago by racing smart and using my head, as well as listening carefully to the legend that is Sinead Keogh. Thank you once again. Also a special thanks to my cousin Geoffrey and his fiancee Cara who surprised me by showing up at the finish line! Was great to see them there.
I have to finish with a mention of Gavin Byrne and the fact that he gave it his all finishing in just over 13 hours. Staggering time. Robbie managed to smash Eoin Keith’s record, finishing in 12 hours and 11 minutes. Mind boggling stuff. Aoife Mundow managed to beat the women’s record and finish in just over 16 hours. Incredible Aoife, only running her first ultra in December of last year and having never ran 127 km in her life. It just goes to show what can be achieved with good training, focused mindset and a wee bit of talent thrown in the mix..
A couple of videos below to give you a little idea of the day!
Yup that’s me after a 3 hour 25 minute marathon in the Burren hills. What can I say! A cracking race, a stunning course, incredible volunteers and a strong field of runners, but for me not the most graceful of days. Taking into account that I really exerted myself in The Race and my longest run since March was 23km, taking on this marathon was more of a training session/build up to a big summer. All this planned out carefully I still decided to try pace the race, in a comfortable way, so that come the final 10km I would be in with a podium chance.
The race started by the sea in Ballyvaughan, Co. Clare. A huge crowd for a marathon, a half and a 10k, with walkers, joggers and runners mixed in. The run would be made up of basically 21km off road and 21km on the road. Not really suiting me but I would take it handy, ish, early on and see how I was feeling later.
The first 10km was basically up hill, a gradual climb into the hills, winding up into the rocky burren and off the road onto some pretty nasty ground underfoot. I was feeling well and staying out of the red, and somehow cruising along in 2nd place. The leader was a spanish dude I think, who was grinding out about a minute every 3k on me, so I decided not to chase today. At around the 12km mark I was passed out and I knew there were a few very steep off-road climbs ahead, so I let this guy go as well and let myself fall down a long downhill section on the road. The climbs started after passing some dried up riverbeds, a few lonely sheep and a donkey that looked at me as if I had 3 heads, probably right!
Up into the mist we went and by the top of the climb it was getting windy and cold but I knew the halfway point wasn’t far away. The climb topped out and the ground softened underfoot and I let my legs open up along a nice grassy trail, feeling good but I noticed my stomach wasn’t working as it usually does in a race and I felt very bloated. Too much sucking on the Tailwind? Maybe! Being an ultrarunner theses days, I’m used to a constant flow of fluids but I think pushing harder over a shorter race means less fluids are needed sloshing around in there. I had made a mistake and I was about to pay.
The trail wound it’s way down to Fanore and the Atlantic of Galway Bay spread out as far as I could see. I hit the road at the bottom of this long decent and the legs stopped moving, I slowed from a comfortable 4.20min/km pace to nearly 5.30. Off the road for a brief trail down to the edge of Fanore beach before more road to the Greenway which leads all the way back along the coast to Ballyvaughan. The stomach was aching and it was slowing me down. My legs were ok, not spent, but they were slowing all the same. I was passed by about 5 runners in a 20 minute spell near Fanore and I began to feel a bit crap to be honest. I hit the Greenway and had to stop briefly as my head was spinning and my stomach aching. Another runner skipped passed. I had about 9km to go when I met Sinead, who was out to support me and support every single runner in one of her favourite races of the year. I mean every runner knew her by the finish. I indicated as I passed that things were not too rosy and she said later that I was looking a wee bit rough at that point!
The trail carried on for 4km and then a 3.5km section on the road would lead to the finish. Another runner passed me as I hit the road and I began my shuffle home, gradually feeling a little better as I had stopped for a mini puke before I left the trail. The first time in 10 years racing that I got sick during a race. I don’t blame Tailwind, I blame bad race fueling. Even with experience we make mistakes and learn from them.
The run home was kinda fun, stopping at the aid stations along the road to throw water over myself and laughed with the volunteers saying that my stabilisers had come off around 30km and now the wheels were wobbling. The walkers were making their way to the finish at this point so there was lots of banter and craic with them as I bounced along to the finish.
All in all the first 30km was solid, the last 12 was awful, but that’s how it goes sometimes. I think I gave my body too much to do with too much fuel and then I overheated as a reaction. That’s my excuse anyhow. All in all a good top 10 finish in a decent time for any trail or off road marathon and miles in the tank too. I recovered quickly and even that night and the next day felt fresher than I ever had after a marathon.
As I write this it is almost a month after this race and last weekend was the 127km Wicklow Way Race. Race report to follow very soon. Ah yes the YELLOW men are back. How would Wicklow treat me this time??!
The most common question in the world of running! What’s up next? Sometimes it is as if what you have just finished means little unless you have a plan ahead. Of course there is almost always another goal but the most important thing following an endurance event is rest and recovery. I actually felt good a week after The Race but sometimes the body can fool us and I realise that there is no way I’m ready for big training yet. I will slowly build up to full capacity training over the next few weeks, but slowly is the key.
A win like The Race was incredible and these things don’t come around too often. It has to be something to savour and to remember forever. If I was to straight away start focusing on something else, I feel as if I’m losing some of the good feeling involved.
All this said I know anyone reading this is still asking, yeah yeah but What’s up next?!!
My previous plans for 2019 changed with changing countries and jobs a few times and I need a year with less travelling to races. The only real goal is TDS as part of the UTMB race series in Chamonix in August (see previous blog posts!). After this everything I do for the year will be with this goal in mind. I will train in blocks, race at the end of each block, but treat the races as long training sessions, trying to not break myself along the way!
A rough guide is train, run hills (lots of hills), race and repeat this for 20 weeks until race day! Easy! I hope to run the Burren Marathon in May, The Wicklow Way Race 127km, in June and the Seven Sisters Skyline 50km in July. These mostly trail races will be the perfect distances in the build up for TDS, all going well!
Check out the Wicklow way blog from 2017 here. Not my greatest hour but it really shows how you can improve in a short space of time. The Wicklow Way was the first time I ran more than 70km in one go. Even though I suffered all night and day it was still a confidence booster to finish and see what my body and mind could endure. I said never again but I have a point to prove with those little yellow men on the Wicklow Way.
At this stage most people that read about endurance distance racing have heard of ‘The Race’ in Donegal. My blog from two years ago gives a brief description of what it is like to take part. I still reckon that it is almost impossible to put into words what this race is really like. Some say spectacular, epic, gruelling, relentless, fun even, but for me it is no doubt Irelands toughest multisport race and this is how 2019 unfolded.
It all started at registration on Friday. It was a squally day with showers moving in fast from the west as I racked my bike in the car park near Rathmullan strand. This would be the starting point for the first cycle section after the kayak. I went for a short walk and had a coffee on the beach to stretch my legs. I had arrived up on Thursday. I decided that with The Race, the more rest in preparation the better and there would be no rushing. I literally had all day to register and to be honest I needed it. I will rewind a few weeks just for the background to training etc, but I’m not going to bore the hind legs off everyone, I promise.
So the two months before the race were made up of consistent but very short training sessions. I never got out on the road for more than 2.5hours and spent most trainings smashing out an hour on the turbo and maintaining fitness with plenty strength and mobility work. My running wasn’t great with a hip which had been giving issues but I still managed a few good trail and hill runs. I never ran more than 23km in the three months before this race, having finished the Dorset Ultra well on the 3rd of December, I decided that all the miles from 2018 would stand to me and at this stage over training would be my downfall. So it might come as a surprise to hear that after christmas I think about 9 hours was my peak weeks training. I was only a few weeks into a new job in the UK at the time and ended up coming back to Ireland at the beginning of March for another new job. All this piled in I knew I was in good shape but I also knew the mileage on the bike really wasn’t in the bag. You can never have it every way and now it was about turning up fit enough to be on the startline.
The bike racked in Rathmullan, check, registration complete in Garton at the startline, check, and boxes for transitions dropped off here too. Good stuff, now back to rest up and enjoy my last few hours before it all kicked off.
I woke up at 3am, ate some porridge, a pancake and a banana and Shaun gave me a lift to Garton for the start, which would kick off at 5am. Let the games begin!
I met my mum, Dee, and sisters Lisa and Linsey at the start. Fair play to them getting up at 4am to come see me off. The crowd gathered and the tension was real. I met Rachel Nolan and we went for a short jog. She could see the tension in the hall was getting to me a bit and reckoned a little jog would do us both good. We literally ran 100 metres and back to the startline. No point in doing a long warm up before a race of this multitude. So at 5am we were off, head torches dancing in the early morning as we set foot into the craziness of a race of 250km. The first leg would be a 23.5km run to Ramelton where we would head for the sea and out through Lough Swilly.
I decided to settle into my own rhythm and not hit the first run too hard, but at same time I knew the running was my strongest discipline so I wouldn’t be hanging around either. I ran at between 4.10 and 4.20 min/km and with the majority of the run on downhill or flat I remained comfortable throughout. The run winds its way along country roads, across the Leannon River and the Lurgy River, through Kilmacrenan village and as the light came into the day I sipped away on my tailwind and thought of my strategy for the day ahead.
Ah yes I had a plan this time! The last time I was here I had never taken part in an endurance event and really surprised myself in how well I did. This time I rocked up with a plan. My plan outlined was basically to knock out the first run in comfortable but fast pace, do a steady kayak and then try to get through the first hilly 96km without blowing up but in and around the 4 hours. From there I would hit my happy place on the mountain and this would catapult me around the next 65k on the bike before jumping off and running a marathon in less than 4 hours. Easy Peasy!!
I finished the run and transitioned onto the kayak in around 1 hour and 43 minutes, race results and splits at the bottom of the post, and turned the corner without breaking a paddle this year! The sun was just rising as I paddled out of Ramelton and the water was flat calm with a turning tide. There were kayak marshals all along the route and as the first relay team was already out of sight I had to pick my way from one kayak to the other most of the way in order to keep a good line. Thanks to all these kayakers and RIB safety crew for all their time on the water. Super support as well. I had a backrest, a nice light paddle and my buoyancy aid had a compartment for my bladder full of water and Tailwind. I sucked away on this for the entire paddle and felt pretty good throughout.
I think the paddle took a little under an hour and a half with a few minutes lost close to the pier in rathmullan as a tide race caught me off guard and I had to battle as if paddling upstream to get under the pier and into transition. I was passed and lost about 9 minutes on a guy in a suspiciously long sea kayak not far from Rathmullan and he would head out on the bike with a good lead leaving me in second place in transition. Two legs down and next up probably the hardest cycle leg in any race of this distance.
Part of my race plan was to be fast in and out of transition and I pulled this off well on the day. I managed to eat overnight oats and a banana before the bike and had a few bottles of tailwind and sweets for the journey ahead. Lisa, Linsey, Dee and Shaun were at transition and they gave me info on who was ahead etc, as I put on my helmet and ran out of transition. Most importantly, Shaun advised to take it handy and not go too hard on the bike, as tempting as it might be, it’s a bloody long race yet. The Race organisers put markers at every 5km, which is some feat in itself, but I can’t say I was admiring these too much over the next few hours.
As I spun my legs and got going I soon realised, only two or three climbs into the cycle that the first run had taken more than I expected out of my legs, where were my bike legs?, they just wouldn’t kick into gear. The hills came one after the other as I made my way out towards Fanad Head and Port Salon. The roads were wet after a few earlier showers and my hands and feet were cold. It was time to start digging deep. I would meet Shaun pulled in his van, every 15 minutes or so with words of encouragement and Lisa and the gang were driving in a separate car. They would come past, music pumping and beeping the horn. I would see them at every transition and the odd time in between as they made their way around the course. You can’t beat a friendly face when you are digging deep. I continued to battle the hilly course to Fanad Head and with a brief rest from the hills spun the legs out a little and soaked up the coastal views working my way towards Downings and a loop out and around another peninsula.
I was about 40km into the first cycle and at my lowest point really in this section before Downings. My legs were feeling heavy and I wasn’t able to climb like I usually am. A competitor passed me not far from here and he asked how far ahead the leader was. I reckoned he wasn’t much more than 5 minutes. This guy absolutely bombed on but I would later meet him in a bad way. He had pushed too hard too soon. As I rounded the loop from downings into Carrikhart another cyclist went by and I was now down to 4th place. I decided not to think about it and just concentrate on trying to recover my race. I wasn’t in a good place at all and the hills just kept on coming. Next up was the relentless long and steep climb up to the famous Lough Salt, a windy climb in the real wilds of Donegal. I started to climb a little better and decided if I reached the top without dismounting it would have to be a psychological boost. So I dug deeper and deeper and screamed at the sheep in the bog as I climbed. I saw the final climb to the top ahead and could see it was split in 5 by minor flat pieces. I would climb each little piece, inhale and climb some more. I reached the top and started to descend and something in me started to switch back to race mode. I can’t quite explain it but this was a turning point. Had I hopped off the bike, even though I probably could of saved time, I would of been beaten! The traits of a stubborn endurance athlete, or any athlete really!!
The next 20km before leg 4 on Muckish mountain were a little easier with only one really long drag in the few kilometres before the transition. The wind, sorry I forgot to mention the headwind which had been in our faces all day, was really strong as I passed Glenveagh National Park gates and made my way towards Muckish. I passed the guy who had raced passed me earlier on the climb towards the transition and came into transition in 3rd place and very happy to have that 96km under my belt. A quick change of shoes, a banana and a bar, stuffed all the food in my backpack, grabbed a bottle of Tailwind and I was away. I spotted Shaun’s Dad and his brother in law Ronan at this point. Both super guys and once again great to see the support. Shaun pointed up the mountain and said the lads were about 8 minutes ahead but that I could see them. I looked up and thought to myself. GAME ON!!
Muckish is class, well mountains are class. I hiked at below top speed, to conserve a little but I started to reel in the two lads and before the base of the steepest part of the ascent I was chatting to them. This was my terrain and I was gonna make it count. The mountain was in bad nick so it wasn’t easy to make time. I just hiked to the gravel track where it evens out a bit and the jogged bits to the top. I drank a can of coke I had grabbed in transition at this point as well. Evil evil stuff, but bloody amazing mid race! I began to open up the legs on the descent and open up a gap on 2nd and 3rd as well. They were both working hard and I knew this was only the start of a really hard sprint for the finish. Yes I know a 100km sprint, no bother!
Everyone always says that the least memorable stage is the next 65km on the bike. This is mainly due to fatigue and a less amazing coastline to admire. In saying this there are some nice parts, however, I had a serious goal in mind at this stage. I was in poll position and I wasn’t planning on letting it slip. As far as I’m aware it was Michael Flood that was on my tail, a serious biker and he as well as John Whoriskey, Danny McLaughlin and Matt Casey had all shown how they can run earlier in the race. Any mistake or bad luck on my behalf would most likely cost me the race at this point. I had to focus and make sure I did everything in my power to avoid any mistakes. The cycle went from Muckish to Falcarragh then Gweedore, and Crolly, before a nasty climb up some country roads and a descent to Dungloe before the final 10km towards Doochary. I was moving far better on the bike than earlier and any little niggles in my hamstrings seemed to be gone, for now at least. I threw on my jacket in one nasty shower but soon took it off again, sticking to just the tri suit and a light cycling jersey with arm warmers, as I had worn all day. No point in layering up, I wasn’t hanging about. Keep her lit, was all I heard as I cruised over the hill and descended into my final transition for the marathon.
In and out in about 2 minutes and now it was make or break. How would the legs react after another 2 hours 49 minutes on the bike. I was over 200km into the race and it was time to run a marathon, mostly on road I might add, not my thing really, but it was what it was. Lisa roared at me as she passed, that Michael flood was about 13 minutes back and moving well. I was struggling to get going and was running closer to 6 min/km over the first 6 or 7 k. Michael must of been around 2.5km behind and soon Shaun passed and said it looked like about 10 minutes and the gap was closing. There is a long drag at about 10k before what they call the Minor’s Pass. I had to get myself moving a bit more and it was now or never. I started the climb and really worked. I was pouring with sweat, both from nerves and working hard. I knew if I could climb well that the chances were this would be the difference. I got to the Minors pass and a long trail descent down to the lake began at this point. I just opened up the legs and let fly. I was running 4 min/km on downhill and smiling. I felt better and even strong on the downhill. I glanced to my left and a big herd of deer were roaming the hillside, the lake was flat as the wind had finally dropped a bit.
I scared a man and woman on the trail as I bounded past not far from the Castle on the shores of Lough Beagh. I ran through the castle grounds and another marshal was there to greet me. They seemed to be everywhere all day, many on their own, but in mighty spirits and encouraging all the way. I was tipping away at around 5 min/km on the flat sections and after the castle the trail turns right and up a long drag. I almost hiked in one or two sections of the steep trail but kept the hammer down as much as I could. As I turned one corner I came face to face, well almost, with a big red deer stag on the side of the trail. I could see the whites of his eyes and realised I was been greeted in Glenveagh National Park by one of the founding creatures. He was magnificent and in hindsight maybe an omen for me. It took a lot of willpower not to stop for a chat and a selfie!
I met the camera crew led by Paul Doherty as I topped out on the hill before descending towards the gates of the National Park. Shaun was at the gates and ran with me for a few minutes informing me that Michael was 16 minutes behind according to those at the Minors Pass and that I had it if I could maintain a steady pace. I was flying as I ran the descent out of the park and managed to keep a steady 5 min/km or less pace on the road as I started the last 10k of the run. This is a mostly flat section with a few nasty sharp hills to negotiate. I ran it all, shuffling up the hills, in quite a lot of pain, but managing to let the legs go and pick up speed on the descents. Funnily during this race my downhill running was nearly better than up, not normal for me! Who knows.
It was dark at this point and I had my Petzl headlight on. I had borrowed this and many words of wisdom from Sinead Keogh, who was caught up with work and couldn’t make The Race this year. She had told me how to race today and to be honest I had followed her plan almost exactly. I thought of her wisdom and lots of other things on this final 10km. I realised even though I was hurting that I could also soak this up a bit. I felt a load come off my shoulders as for the first time all day I knew I had a gap.
I thought of Emma and how proud she would be if I could pull of this final 10k without falling on my face, of all my family here to support and how they would get a kick out of it. My friends had supported me so well in the lead up to the race, telling me I had a great chance and I had the experience to do it. I would never of gained the confidence to pull it off without them. Most important on the day was Shaun Stewart as he had basically given up his day to follow the race and continually give me advice throughout. He had roared at me on a few occasions, “come on O Farrell, pick it up” and other nice things! !
So I passed the last set of marshals and began to climb a few mini hills over the last 2km of this epic event. A tiny part of me, and I mean tiny, wanted more but most of me wanted that finish line. This was my time and my chance to enjoy the sport I love. Not only was I about to finish but I was about to win the race. STOP those thoughts, Focus, Focus, Focus. I saw the light on the final direction sign, swung left and ran towards the line. I could hear the speakers call my name and as traditionally I do, I flashed my headlight on approach. See below what followed!
A nice added surprise at the finish line were my Aunt and Uncle, many people already know Greg for his fanatical approach to following the races. Thanks so much Greg and Deirdre, absolute legends.
Thanks to the organisers who helped me gain my bearings at the finish and who all day had put on an excellent show. The volunteers and the supporters are what makes this race. The scenery is second to none, the hills, well enough about the hills and the other competitors, well done to each and every one of you. Whether you finished or not, just taking on this event is a huge step. Be proud of it and don’t forget 2020 is another chance to let rip in Donegal.
I made it to Ireland and Foxford in Co. Mayo since my last post. Starting the new job, a lack of time and wifi has curtailed my blogging of late, but for the rest of the year I hope to get back in the groove! Another new start and one we hope will be a good one. The Race is only 12 days away and my training has been a mixed bag with little time and less mileage than originally planned. In saying that I am mostly injury free, have trained most days and all in all am looking forward to what is a super event and one to challenge anyone.
My new abode is set between the hills of the Ox mountains and the tallest stand alone mountain in Ireland of Nephin. I went for a brisk hike up and run down Nephin 2 weeks ago and no doubt with a big training year ahead it will be one for my vertically challenging plans!
Somy lack of bike miles, miles on the legs and little time in the mountains leaves me where exactly for the big day?!
A question I am finding it hard to get my head around but as always the only way forward is positivity. I look at the distances I raced in the last 2 years since I took on and raced The Race really well. At that time I had never ran further than 30km’s at once, I had never raced for anything like 15 hours on my own at once and I was coming off the back of an injury that meant I only really trained for 2 months pre race. So with this all in mind I should be, even though untrained to an extent in the last few months, in a better place, certainly mentally than two years ago. That is what I am telling myself and I will also use this event as a slingshot for the year ahead where all roads lead back to Chamonix and the 145km in the Alps of the TDS. That is my ultimate 2019 goal and everything else race and training wise in 2019 is linked to the TDS.
So have I answered the above question? Possibly not perfectly, but my mindset will be good, i’ve learnt a lot in two years, and I hope the weather will be kind. It has been one storm after the next the last week here and in March this kind of weather is hard to shake in Ireland. Fingers and toes crossed there folks as the weather can be the difference in this one!
2019 has gotten off to a pretty hectic start. I have been up and down to Dorset with work and in the last week I have been offered a new post back in Ireland with Inland Fisheries Ireland in Ballina. This means another pack up and I move back to Ireland next Thursday. This has all been unexpected but in the long run I hope the right decision!
‘The Race‘, is just around the corner and I’ve been all over the place with training. I haven’t managed the mileage at all and am battling a sore hip again, this time the bike causing the issue. Another bike fit may be needed. I must be growing!!
I know my blogging has been abysmal of late and apologies for this. Especially to those at Tailwind and Uglowsport that I wish to plug more in 2019. I have managed a few cycles around the 60km mark and some runs at weekends, but all in all it has been a one or two hour smash and grab in the gym between work, sleep and travel. It is important when tired and stressed over life not to overtrain and I think at this point it is more important to me to make the start line of The Race, than make it overtrained or injured. I know I have the endurance and my fitness is good. I may not have the miles, especially on the bike but I will dig deep on the day.
I ran in all sorts of conditions in my training of late with snow, ice, rain and even sunshine and 13 degrees last weekend. All good prep for the next event, even if I only managed short sessions.
So with 34 days to go to The Race, I realise I have to move countries, start a new job and somehow keep up a decent level of fitness in between. This said I will ramp up my miles on the trails in the next three weeks and do some hard bike sessions as well. A lot can be achieved in three weeks if you put your mind to it.
All this said The Race is just a starter and a body check for 2019. Once I sit down post race I will weigh up my options for 2019 back in Ireland. I am really looking forward to meeting all the other participants before the event, some first timers and others returning like myself. There are some like Andrew Wallace and Couch to 250km that have put massive effort into the event both in their training and for charities. Ye will smash it no doubt.