In The Hunt for Redemption

Brian Furey may now be crowned the Leinster Champ but I sure as hell made him work for it.

The morning dawned early, 0700 is an ungodly time for an alarm to go off. Up coffee, rush to pack kit and out the door. Got dumped off at the Red Cow and luas into town, followed by a rasher sambo, picked up by Shane and off to the steep steep slopes of Glenmalure. Again.

We arrived and I was disgusted. Not a cloud in the sky again. It was hot and zero wind. It was going to be a tough day at the office. Bouncing around the start there was the usual gathering of hikers shiver. Brian, Jason, Aidrian, it would be fast at the start. I got changed, slapped on the factor 30 (missed a small bit on my shoulders) and got pumped. Running up the hill away from the start of the race, I got confused and couldn't work out where we were meant to be going. I decided I'd sit in and wait. It would be a long way to the top.

Back on the start line, 4mins till start. I dumped my left over pre race water onto my buff, necked what was left and went over a few scenarios in my head. Cover the breaks if they look serious, leave em go if I know I can reel em in slowly.

And we were off, 1200 on the button as usual. The nervous feeling has set in. I was keeping my wits about me - people are known to do crazy things in the heat!

I was covering Brian and Jason. From Carrauntoohil, they were the guys I had my focus on. We tipped along the road until the turn off across cleared forest. I upped the pace slightly and happly skipped across the felled area. Up past the building and I froze, I wasn't meant to be leading, I didn't know where to go! Brian ends up beside me, he looks at me as if to say "your the navigator, which way do we go!!", my look is a blank one, I had no idea. Neither of us is sure where to go, Jason is beside us. The 3 of us have stopped like stunned rabbits in a set of headlights. Zoran breaks left and we take off after him. Up a small track, following Pauls well placed tapes. Zoran, Jason, Brian and myself. It has a ring of the Euro Trial to it. Up a narrow steep track, not much space to pass. No need to do anything crazy yet - thats for the descent...

We climb up the switch backs, passing hikers. A few nice roots on the ground. The climb is pretty constant but its all runnable. After what seems like an age we pop up onto the fire road. I look up away from Brians heels and take in my surroundings, I wanted to spot a feature for when we'd turn back in on the descent. The ground was more open. A large earthbank with a boulder. Bingo. Can't miss a boulder 1oft in the air.

The pace ups, I focus on Zoran and slowly set about reeling him in slowly. No point making a sprint and wasting myself. Zoran is passed as Brian and I battle it out. Brian keeps the pace steady. I sit right on his shoulder. I want him to know I'm going to be right behind him on every step he takes on route to the highest point in Leinster. At present there are alot of bodies around us. Taking that sneaky glance over my shoulder I can only see Jasons top but I know that there is more than that. Too many clattering of feet and studs on the fireroad. The road contuines to go up, suddenly it dips dramatically - take note for the descent, have something left.

The fire road eventually runs out along with the clattering of studs. The sound of the studs is now a faint distance sound. Up the gravel track, feet sliding a wee bit. Not too worried. Up the final piece of track and we're into the serious climb. Brian keeps a constant pace and gets a gap. I settle into my own slower climbing pace and begin to plug away. The aim is to not give away ground. Keep it simple stupid. Turn the legs over. Jason passes me by and hangs onto Brian. I'm sitting in 3rd and the climb isn't letting up. I'm down to a hard walk. Up in front so are Brian and Jason. Possibly the past 3 weeks racing is taking its toll. I have to keep them as close as possible on the climb. Can't afford to lose too much ground. As we go up, Des catches and passes me. My focus is still on Brian and Jason. I've never seen Des, his shoes don't look good for the descent. I'd take him at the turn.

The climb flattens out (550m up). I open up my stride and get the shuffle going as try in vain to open up my stride into a run. Upfront, Jason has legged it off across the marsh. He's flaking it. Des follows. I look up and catch a glimps of Brian off to my right heading for the spur. I assumed Brian recced the route so I follow him off right. Jasons route is tempting, a brave one. I put my faith in Brian and go after him.

As I chase Brian, I see him struggle in the rough terrain. I suffer up each step, its just like that bitch of a climb that O planners love to throw in for no good reason. I can see Brian hurting so I put the head down and get on with it. Just getting one foot in front of the other. My route choice of up the spur, contour into the re entrant and then up the "wall" seems like a good one.

I shuffle up the spur. I look behind me and I see Aidrian about 100m back. Too close for comfort. I force my legs to get running. I have no idea where Brian has gone. He drifts from my mind as I get stuck into the job at hand. As I climb I see a ROAR top ahead. I have a pulling feature. I make a bee line for it, assuming Paul Mahon will give me dog abuse. Turns out to be John Shiels clicking away like mad as usual. As I near John, I hear none other than Don shout out abuse from above.

I run hard wanting to get a gap on those behind me. I reach the wall. Its fecking vertical. I can't wait to come down this! I start into it. Its one foot in front of the other. I can't see any other climbers, I wonder where Brian, Jason or Des have ended up...

By this stage I'm using my hands. My legs are coping well but my brain needs blood. Don shouts up from below "get a move on, your meant to be proud to run in a CNOC top". This makes me get the finger out and I up the anti as much as I can. My hands are grabbing at the tuffs of grass as I use every means necessary to drag my sorry ass up the wall. In hindsight it has a sence of pure beautiful maddness to it.

As I near the plateau, I look left and see Des flying up along the flat(er) ridge coming up from Arts Lake. I force my legs to get running as it flattens out almost immediately. Up in front I only see hikers. I wonder where Jason and Brian are. I can't see anyone. That split second of elation. First to summit - SWEET! I have a spring in my step as I bounce towards the cairn. Over to my right, I see a runner flying. It appears to be a black top. I can't believe it. I grit my teeth, put my head down and force myself to run harder. The mystery runner does a lap of the cairn and begins to descend towards me. My thoughts are one of, whoever you are, you better descend hard, because I'm hunting for you. As the mystery runner nears I realise its Brain Furey. He is bouncing. He looks comfortable.

This look of calmness incises me. I gun it for the cairn. As I run the lap of the rocks, hikers seem horrified. I get a nice smile inside - can't let it show on my exteriar. Its war face time.

I sprint off the plateau. Jason comes around the South Prism as I head for the drop. I want, need, have to catch Brain. Losing again wasn't an option. For descending you have to believe you are the best to have good technique. As I hurtled off the flat summit, heading for the drop. I was oozing with confidence. Brian was mine. I didn't care how hard I had to run.

I looked up and spotted my sheep - my marker for where to descend. At first people might think thats crazy, sheep move! Well my logic was that the runners were coming up to the left of the sheep, so that means that the sheep would go further right, away from the runners. By aiming for the sheep, this shortened my descent distance.

I hit the vertical drop and I let go. I was keeping my weight back so if I fell I'd only slide on my arse. My legs turned over as quick as I could. My eyes began to water so much I couldn't pick out my foot placings. I used my sweat covered buff to try wipe my eyes clear - it did enough that I could see.

I could see Brian further down the slope. I was gaining on him. I could feel my legs take a hammering as I dropped. Studs at there limit. Waiting until the slope was no longer 80% so I could open up my stride and let it loose. I aimed for the ridge and ran hard. On reaching the ridge I went to its tip and let gravity do its job. I passed a marsh I remembered on the way up. I hung a right after the marsh and ended up in the re entrant, the same one I chased Brian up. This time, he was only half way down. He was mine. By the time he reached the bottom, I was ontop of him. I went for the river and got across before him. On the far side of the river, I got cragged out. It annoyed me as I should have remembered it from the way up.

I ran around and began to push the pace. I had to get to the second drop first. Get my preferred line coming down. I was bouncing through the marshy bogy crap. It was a perfect day to be shin deep in crap.

I made a bee line for the tip of the river, where it vanished from sight over the edge into the Fraughen Rock Glen. I was making good progress. I looked up and saw Brian, he was licking it along the track I was hoping to hit. A few minor expletives to myself and I made my way across to the track. I was on his shoulder as he begun the descent. This was make or break. I tracked his foot steps the entire way down. Picking 6 steps ahead and keeping the steady fall controlled. I didn't feel as comfortable as I did coming down the wall but I was keeping up with Brian. The race was gone purely tactical.

I noticed Brian almost take a slide on a root, took note and avoided it. We dropped down to the final flatter section and it was game on. Brian hit the rough track and he upped the pace. I tried to go with him but the legs wouldn't/couldn't respond.

I attempted to make deals and barters with them but they were having none of it. My legs were just heavy. No spring in them. With out the bounce I usually have at the end of a race I was paranoid as hell that Jason or Aidrian would be hot on my heels, ready to pounce at my first sign of weakness.

I kept the gap constant between Brian and myself, or as constant as I could. He seemed much more relaxed, bounding along. He disappeared around the final bend of the fire road. A few seconds later I went around and began to drop down. The sight that met my eyes shocked me. Brian was running back up the track towards me. He yelled wheres the track. It my shock I said keep going. Its miles down. As we descended side by side. I was looking out for my boulder. Brian was looking for the tapes. Catching a glimps of the boulder, I looked left and saw the track. Brian almost went in too early, I gave him a nudge to keep going and he took the lead into the switch backs. He took a tumble, bounced up quickly and resumed the descent. I was about 1m back. He had maybe 20-30m on me before his error.

We dropped down through the first turn, then the second, onto the final piece of track. I catch a glimps of Izzy leg it off to tell Paul that runners were on route. I followed the tapes wide and ran back through the felled stuff the same way as I went out. Brian went straighter.

He got out onto the fire road first for the last 200m. I was just behind him. He kicked. I tried to go with him but the legs were shot. Completely empty. I gave chase but he wanted it more. 2nd place, 5seconds down.

If I said nothing, and got into the switch backs first, who knows - maybe I could have set up a grand final on Mount Leinster, winner takes all. However this year it wasn't to be.

For the Leinster Champs next year, I'll be stronger and there will be a hunger. Bring on more open mountain routes!!

My Runners Up Mug :)

(coffee wasn't included)

Winning feels great, but its your loses that motivate you and get you out the door when its the last thing you want to do. To lose every now and then keeps the hunger alight.

Lugnacoille, Take 2, July 3rd. We'll see who's running scared.

Once wounded, Twice as dangerous.

Setting a Wrong, Right.

I was gutted after last Sunday. I didn't want to orienteer, I didn't want to run so instead I went out on the roadie and hammered it. After 4 days of biking I began to get over it and hit the tank hills on the Curragh for a session. I ran some hard, some easy. Jogged home. Didn't feel to amazing. Friday night I got my first good nights sleep of the week. Lounged around Saturday before heading out to the Curragh again for an easy run to see how the body was going. I was floating. I was taking it easy but I was floating on a runners high. I began to get a buzz. The adrenaline began to flow as I thought about Sunday morning. A chance to redeem myself for the horror of the previous week. It was payback. Not to Brian. Not to Peter. Not to Jason. To Myself. I had to race this hard to prove to myself that Carrauntoohil was just a blip in the system.

Sunday morning dawned and I felt rough. Generally a good sign as I necked a coffee. Waking up I felt that nervous feeling eating breakfast. It was going to be a good day at Crone again. I could feel it.

Bopped into Crone carpark, out the door and began my warm up after having a chat to Gerry on what to expect. Jogging up the road, just after the switch back, the climb up should be just here..... or not. Continuing up the road, I knew I'd gone past it but I really didn't want to get straight into a beast of a climb without been warmed up. After a km I turn back and headed up the climb. And what a climb it was. It keeps on going. Relentless. Up and up. Cross a track and its up again. Its only 200m further but its a murderous 200m. Out onto the fire road and I know exactly where I'm going to attack from. Then its a long descent before a steeper section that I'm more accustomed to slogging up, and down to the end of the lap. Its one hell of a loop. And we had to knock out 3 of them. No where to hide. It was guts out the entire way. Pacing was also going to have a massive effect on the race out come. Go out to hard and you'd know about it.

On the start line there was about 20 brave runners ready to be tested by Gerry's newest course. 30sec count down. You can get a feel for the nervous tension that was building. 2,1 and we're off. Instantly the pack splits in 2. The "road runners" flack it off up the track while IMRA's finest sit back and take it handy. We know what's coming up.

Up around the switch backs and the gap stays solid. The roadies hit the climb. In the chase for IMRA, Brian is leading. I'm sitting as tight to his shoulder as I can get. Jason makes a break for the climb, clearly not wanting to be boxed in. I try to get in front of Brian by jumping over the ditch. He side shuffled and I missed my chance. We start climb 1. I sit on his shoulder and look at his feet. One foot in front of the other. Keep the legs ticking over. Climbing steadily. Beginning to feel the burn. Jason still leads, Brian on his shoulder and me on his. I had one of the Healys on my shoulder (i still don't know which is which!). The posé pass the first road runner. On crossing the road its onto a steeper section. The guys that went off hard are now walking. It puts a smile on my face. We continue to climb. Across the river and wall and up the final section. One of the Healys passes me out. I'm not too concerned. Its along way to go. We drop off the climb onto the fire road.

I try to open the pace as quickly as I can and I begin to reel runners in. Up in front I can see the Crusiaders top of Jason. He's my target. I passed Healy and we get working together to reel em in. In the distance the roadies have taken off. The distance between Healy and myself, and Jason and Brain is closing. With 2 more climbs to go I'm careful not to push too hard. As the climb levels out and begins to drop I turn the legs over as quick as I can. I have to be on Brians shoulder for the 2nd climb.

At the first corner Jason and Brian have a small gap. I take the corner hard and drive up the pace. I catch and run along side Jason before moving onto Brian. I take a tight inside line and get by him. Hanging a left I fling myself down the steeper section of climb. I think I got a gap but I'm not sure.

I cross the line for the first time. 15:52. One lap down. Two more to do. I try maintain leg speed as I near the base of the climb. Mary says I'm 5th as I start the climb. I was shocked. How the hell did I end up 5th. Where did everyone else go!

I got stuck into the second climb. It became a mental battle of attrition. Run on the flatter bits. Walk the steeper sections. Brian bounces past. Currently leading the chase for King of the Mountains (i can see why) I try to latch on. I just put one foot in front of the other. The climb just keeps going.

As I suffer up I can hear Jason gaining on me, followed by a Tullamore guy (John). I know I'm hurting but I just keep it going. I get past by the two on the steep section at the top. Only once more up this climb. As we reach the final section, I give Jason a push on the back and tell him to get back running as quickly as possible once we hit the track. I really wanted to catch and drop the Tullamore runner. On reaching the track we upped the pace and ran along side John. I opened the pace, concluding that I needed a big gap going into the final climb as I was suffering on the ascents. On coming down the final road, Brain (Hill, not Furey) was running in the mens junior race. I began to scream at him. Telling him to get the finger out and stick it to the Mullinger Harriers runner who had one hell of an attitude problem. He was jogging, walking. Complaining about his ankle. When I yelled at Brian he took off. I ran along side the now sprinting Harriers runner, continuity shouting at Brian to "bury him".

I cut inside of the Harriers runner and he gave me a push on the back. I kept the elbows to myself (even though I wanted to deck him) and focused on blitzing the steeper descent. I hammered it down the descent and he attempted to follow my suicidal sprint. I felt a hand on my back as he gave me a shove and a whimpering followed by much complaining about "my ankle". I'm still not sure if he expected me to stop when he was clearly fine and was only suffering from a serious ego problem. Brian continued to hammer the pace - with my continued abuse following him down the mountain as I hurtled towards the line.

Apparently the Harriers runner sat down ~100m from the end complaining it was too sore to continue. Personally I would have left him there. He had no clue about the etiquette that exists in IMRA of letting faster runners descend. I was glad I made him suffer on the descent. The is a difference between road/track and mountain. (I have strong opinions on this but I'd have to mark my blog as mature content)

As I crossed the line for the second time I knew I was hurting. On reaching the climb I knew I'd somehow have to catch the Riocht runner and/or Brian Furey if I wanted selection. He had 17sec on me at the finish line. I knew it was a very tall order.

I began to focus on my climbing, running and walking. Up ahead I could see the Riocht runner walking. I could here John breathing heavy. He had cut the gap very quickly. I wondered if Jason was with him. I could potentially lose two places. I put the head down and continued up. I could hear Gerry yelling at runners as they climbed.

Crossed the road and I took a sneeky glance behind. Its was only John, Jason had dropped off the pace. Up the final climb. I didn't push myself to the limit, I knew I still had a hard downhill to go. Just before the wall, he went past me. I tucked in behind him and hung on. Wanting to be as close as possible on the fire road. He hit the road and upped the pace and got a gap. I tried to up the pace but I was really hurting. I chased him, wanting to be on his shoulder when we hit the descent.

He had a gap on me going into the descent. Maybe 15m. I set about reeling him in. I pushed and pushed. He went around the bend and almost ended up in the trees - losing his rhythm slightly I got closer to him. I knew I was running out of time. The gap was staying constant. I knew he was flat out. Dropped down through the next cross roads. The gap is still the same. I tried to up the pace again. My legs were at there limit. I hit the steep descent hard. My balance was at its limit. I was glad I wore my talons on the lose rock. I had closed the gap ever so slightly. John had thrown himself down it. The gap was still the same. Taking the last bend tight I grit my teeth and went for it. The gap was closing ever so slightly. I was running out of time. I was running at my physical limit. It was infuriating not to have that extra gas to go 2:00min/km. The 10k had taken it out of me. John crossed the line. I drove across the line anyways. Looking for at least a good percentage.

Really happy with the run. I ran a good tactical race. Pushed it pretty much the majority of the way. Maybe I saved myself on the climb a little too much but I knew I had to go up it 3 times and it was followed by a punishing 2.3km descent. I finished 2:41 down on the winner and 56sec down on 4th place (and European Team spot). Apparently it looks good for the Irish Team for Snowdon anyways :) Happy days. I was also pleased that I was the 2nd "IMRA" runner home. Brian ran a great race to finish 3rd. Solid climbing - I wonder will someone beat him to the top of Lug. I for one will be looking for all 10 KOM points....

Bring on Fraughen Rock Glen!

(i'll lash up pics and stuff when there up)

Carrauntoohil

Legend doesn't show but Furey is unleashed on the Mountain.

Racing is something that comes together after weeks, months even years of hard training. The miles and miles that you clock up and climb form a platform for which you are able to throw everything you have at a race. The stronger you get in training the faster you can race. You can't race week in, week out. To win a race you have to want it, every race dilutes the "want" slightly so if racing week in week out you have to be very focused on what direction you want to go in. The last thing you want is for a big race to come around you don't have as much to throw at it. You have to want to race. You have to be gagging for it to really want to race. Ever fiber in your body has to want to push itself to its limit for the win.

For an epic like Carrauntoohil I expected to end up at the base, on the ground spewing up my guts. Crying with the sheer amount of pain, hurt and suffering I had just inflicted on my body. Sadly it was not to be.

Bouncing out the road from Killarney with Peter and Turlough headed into the reeks. Jeaze did they look steep. I began to water at the mouth just thinking of descending them at speed. As we got closer they got bigger, and steeper! Wicklow has nothing on these monsterous peaks.

Climbers Inn we picked up Adrian and contuined on our way to the end of the road and the start of the kerry way. Regestration done with, got abuse from Dan to the horror of other people around - they weren't aware that we actually know each other. This put me in a great mood for what lay ahead.

Now after seeing the weather on fiday night I was expecting a complete white out, lashing rain, apocaliptic conditions, sadly this was not to be the case. It was a "perfect" day for mountain running. Not a cloud in the sky, not a breath of wind. Incrediable views. I was gutted. I wanted a white out so peoples heads would drop at the thought of slogging it up to the highest peak in the country - while i'd be happy out, regardless of the weather.

After a short enough warm up we all gathered on the start line. Vivan gave the instruction on what to expect and the rules of engagement. On the descent, once you cross the fence, its your call where to go.

With a 3,2,1 we were gone. I set off at a pace I hoped to maintain. I ended up at the front with the 75 other runners sitting on my shoulder. I was waiting for someone to make a break for it. No one went. I found the pace easy as we climbed the zig zags. I was running well within myself knowing I had about 50mins of a solid climb ahead. I stuck to the track and followed it up. Some people further down the line were taking short cuts as they saw where the track led. Turlough jumped up and joined the lead pack. We crossed the first fence. I took my time, wanting a back log to form and to get people to break stride. I jumped down and kept my pace where I wanted it. From here people began to up the pace but I still sat at the front. Not wanting to get boxed in. Up and up. Darren cut the corner and was on my shoulder. I kept it cool and sat it. On the last zig I took a double take a runners got up my inside. I dropped back to 6th in behind peter, brian, darren, jason and jason.

We crossed the 2nd fence and we were onto open mountain. We made a bee line for the top. Climbing and jumping over the peak hags. The thought came to mind that this is going to be a very painful climb. Over to my right I saw Darren flying it. My mind snapped back to a convo before "just follow the fence up". I made a break for the fence and sat in behind him. The running was much better along this stretch. Darren was leading the charge up the mountain closely followed by Brian, Peter and myself. There was maybe 10 runners clear of the rest of the field. As we climbed higher I realised that at worse it was looking like i'd get 1 King of the Mountains point. Happy days.

As the fence did a sharp left then right, Brain jumped it and contuined to climb, Darren, Peter and myself went down and around, staying on the inside of the fence where the running was good. Happy days. The plan of sitting behind Peter was working pretty nicely. I knew if I was with him on Caher I'd be up in the running to get a top 5 at least.

After the fence corner the climb just became about putting one foot in front of the other. A battle of attricitan formed behind Peter and Darren with Tim, Adrian and myself chopping and changing places as we all struggled to keep running. Noone wanted to give an inch on the climb.

Over to my left I saw Peter and Jason make strong progress on what appeared to be firmer ground. I went left and climbed up the reentrant. They were motoring. I tried to hang onto them but there pace was ever so slightly too high for my liking. I looked right and I saw they guys by the fence picking up the pace. I was furious at myself, I should have stuck by my guns. I made my way back to the fence and contuined to climb. Fighting back needlessly the ground that I had lost. I did that once more, heading over towards Peter and Jason and back to the fence. I wanted the fastest ground to just get up. I had to have lost time chopping and changing.

As we climbed higher, the pack took a left over a small hill, Darren stuck to the fence and climbed up a small rocky crag. Having known he had recced it previously I decided to follow him. It got up back in contact with the other runners. At this stage, Brian had a big lead, followed by Jason Q and then the group of 8 was strung out with less than 1min between the 3rd and 10th runner.

I was at the back of the group as we climbed. When we hit the first flat section I opened up the pace, knowing that the top of Caher was close. I had to be close to Peter if I wanted to be in the mix when we started to descend. As the ground raised up, I put the boot in and got a gap on Tim and Adrian. This was where I was going to make a break for the summit.

Going over Caher I reckoned there was ~30sec in it between Peter/Darren and myself. I went to huttle myself off of Caher but I looked up, above where my 6th step should go and took in the view. I looked left and right and realised how high up we were. There was a sheer drop to the left and right. I suddenly felt very vunerable in my shorts and singlet. A fall here would be costly, as in my legs or neck. I paniced. From the fast reckless descender, suddenly I felt very fragile.

I slowed right down, making sure of every step. My talons were suddenly very inadaquite for the rocky track. I tried to pick up the pace but it was no dice. Adrian went by me, there was nothing I could do. Fear had me rooted to the spot. I was walking. The drop looked amazing. Yet it awoken a fear inside of me. I became a stammering mess. Adrian went by... I tried in vain to keep up, Tim flew by. There was nothing I could do. I got a taste of what it must feel like to be a road runner on his first mountain descent with luanitics hurtling by, not a care in the world as I was forced to pick every stride. There even came a point where I sat down and lowered myself onto the lower ledge and walked a few metres before I picked up the pace to a light jog.

When I eventually got across, I was shaken at how I had reacted. I upped the pace but my body felt weird. Adrenline rocked my system, I tried to close the gap I had allowed to open. The final climb to the summit. Brian Furey came hurtling down the mountain. Followed by Jason. I climbed as fast as my legs would carry me up. On nearing the summit I glance around me and took in the view, it looked stunning. On reaching the summit I yell out "we should do more of this stuff WOOOOH" before I turned tail and threw my body off the rocky outcrop high above Kerry. I picked and danced my way down through the upper rocky scree. On hitting the grass section I opened and began to close the gap on Aidrain and Tim. As I began to pick up the pace I heard Donnica shout encouragement (he was late for the start, climbed hard and had almost caught me - currently training for the Race Around Ireland look here) I could see Darren far in the distance. I knew it was unlikely I'd catch him, but I always love a challenge.

On reaching the narrow ridge, I picked my way across carefully. Knowing only too well that I was dropping seconds with every metre. I was focusing on the 5 metres in front of me, ignoring what was to the left and right. On reaching the climb back to Caher my legs were empty. I dug deep and forced my body to keep climbing. I'm still not entirely sure how I got my lifeless legs to operate going up Caher but eventually I summited it for a second time.

The final section was to maintain leg strenght and just keep turning them over. I descended Caher alone. Chasing my shadow down the mixture of grass and lose rock. On reaching the flat section I was worried of taking the right direction. I used common sense and went down... Far in front I could see Adrian and Tim. Well out of striking distance.

But luckly god loves a trier. I decided that I wouldn't catch them but I'd see how close I could get to them. It became my own personal time trail. A boggy rocky descent. I began to turn the legs over and got into a flow. My route picking wasn't ideal but the gap was getting smaller. Jumping off small crags and running through bog, it felt like an orienteering course. I got cragged out a couple of times and I kept wondering if someone was gaining on me. I passed a lone hiker - the look I recieved was one of questioning my sanity, a look I've grown very acustomed to running around the mountains of wicklow.

As I neared the fence my legs began to struggle in the peak hags. A vision of battling through the hell on route to Conavala stood clearly in my mind. As I neared the fence Paul says to make a bee line for the shed (after questioning why I'm so far off the pace), having nothing to lose I go straight down. Down through burn gorse, rocks and long grass. I began to pick up speed. Assuming they guys were gone I was just falling, not accelerating.

I glanced up to see where the shed was and I saw Tim. My casual fall turned into a maddening burst of acceleration. I wanted to catch him. I lunged for the track. In the corner of my eye I though I saw Adrian but I wasn't certain. The gap was closing between Tim and myself. I cut the zig zags. Heading straight for the second fence. My passive descending was now long gone.

Tim dropped off the final earth bank 100m in front of me. I gave chase, vaulting the fence and striding out down the final grassy slope. Seeing him go around the boulder I knew the gap was too big. I took my foot off the gas and began to decellerate.

To my left I saw Mike coming down the zig zags. He had followed the trail the entire way. From deceleration to flat out aceleration I made a burst for the line. I don't think he saw me as he never reacted. He got around the boulder, I was on his shoulder. Vivan yells "its to the post". I lunge for the post, not caring if I take a tumble or not. Due to my acceleration I ended up out the gate. Happy with the buzz of mountain running, disappointed with the result. 61up 33 down.

Comparing splits, I leaked 2 mins going across the ridge towards the summit so I can assume I lost 4mins (at least) in the 2km stretch of mountain. That would have brought me up to battling for 2nd position and I would have been 7th to the summit. The stats are sickening to look at but I know where I stand.

Thinking, planning, speculating. ~50min up; ~25mins down....

No point racing in your comfort zone....

(I'll lash up some photos, maps etc later)

Dropping the O'Boyle

Race 2 of my post exam sufferfest/getting back to normal. After beasting a 6km mass start orienteering event on tuesday night, head to head racing against fellow CNOCers and struggling out of bed wednesday morning, i knew the Scarr hill run would be bordering on epic. What was also playing through my head was that our newly signed CNOC monster of Niall McA would be missing tonight so I had to get my racing spot on if CNOC were going to take two races on the trot.

The two CNOC cars pulled into the carpark one after another bang on 1900. We'd have a team in mix again with a selection of guys to choose from, Shea, Roar, Conor (MJ), Brian (MJ), Edd and myself. I felt as if we could pull it off. As i bailed out of the car, my legs felt pretty rough. I thought to myself, your goina be feeling a hell of a lot rough later on. With a sadistic smile on my face and a mug of coffee in my had I bounce down to the reg to get read to lock and load.

Warmed up with Seamus, running up the hill. We wanted to see how far we had to go before we got a bit of a flat to burn it. 1 km of up at the start. Note to self, don't do anything stupid. Take it handy at the start. On the way down we did the usual beasting to get the legs ready for the punishment and to remind the brain to wake up. If it likes all the body parts attached when we finish it was time to start firing a hell of a lot faster. On the way down, I bailed to the left to do some strides before Shea and myself dropped down to the start, grabbing a drop of water from the random tap. It was good, cold and refreshing - the opposite to what was about to happen.

The start was slightly manic - people everywhere and no one backing up. After a few mins we were all on the start line. The race director begins to yell out the race instructions - last thing he mentioned was for slower runnings to left faster runnings through. It amused us in the front as we were the only ones that heard it.
From looking around the only members of the Rathfarm team I could see was Peter and Mike. CNOC may be clear in the team race.

Race started off and there was a bit of banter between Eoin, Peter and myself about race tactics (i know, during a race, twas shocking). Peter goes, so can you deal with this colm...and blasts off up the hill. I couldn't help myself reply ,"tried it before on Prince Williams, didn't really work".

Needless to say the laughter died down fairly rapidly and we got things under way. I sat on Eoins shoulder. He climbed steady while I just sat there and waited. Stick to the plan - don't be a muppet! Up the rocky track and Peter maintains the same gap he made when he accelerated. Tristain was beside him. It'd be interesting to see how they race together.

When climbing I'm usually looking around me to see who's with me and who I may have to go with on the descent. This week it was just about pacing myself up the climb and not going too hard and dying on the way up. With Carrauntoohil just around the corner I wanted to nail the climb perfectly. During the first km, the only thing I really remember was a little bit of blue on the tip of the heel of Eoins runner. I must admit that the thought went through my mind of talking a photo of it after for my blog. Twod be funny.

After about 900m ish the climb began to level out. Peter and Tristan upped the pace. Eoin state constant so I was forced to up the anti and try close the gap. I ran beside him for a small bit but then opened the pace up a bit and wanted to get some breathing space. I hit the bend onto the main track up scar. I felt my studs slip on the gravel. Got a bit of a fright but I had a small gap. I didn't look behind me, I could no longer hear his heavy breathing so I knew I had a gap. It was a matter of upping the pace, but not so much that I over cook it.

Running alot the small rise I could see the gap closing between Peter and myself, Tristin had pace but Peter seemed much more content on the climbing sections. He recent burst of high altitude training in the swiss alps did wonders for his already awesome climbing endurance.

I plugged my way up the track. Trying to keep the effort constant. I knew that running at a constant effort would get me up faster than beasting it off at the start and dying within the first few kilometres.

As I went past the junior turn around point I was feeling great. I had found my rythem. Up and up, the gap stays constant. Peter and Tristain were battling away, Peter showing his strength but Tristain showing his pace. It would get interesting at the turn around. I just kept plugging away. Eoins heavy breathing was now a distant memory. I must have had enough of a gap. Sweet. My concern was Seamus. He had paced himself to perfection the previous week. I was worried. I knew I had to keep in constant and not over cook. And most important. Don't show an inch of pain. Look strong no matter how much pain I was in. Break him mentally.

I reached a smaller rocky section and I pushed a little harder the usual up it. Just bounced up it but once I reached the flatter area I knew something was wrong. B***s. I over cooked it. F**** F**** F****. Trying not to panic, I just turned the legs over. Keep moving up and try to recover. The climb was now about recovering, going easy enough to flush out the gank from my legs but fast enough to stay in front of Shea and Eoin.

(Chatting to Eoin afterwards, he knew I had over cooked it a fraction. He saw my legs do a slight pause - and knew he had me.)

As my pace slowed, I began to hear a faint breathing behind me. I knew he had closed the gap. I just kept at it. Pretend I was fine. He was on my shoulder and ran past. I attempted to keep up, but my legs well like "ooh no you don't - we demand fair working conditions, we're on strike". This attituide of my body didn't go down well. I began to try the carrot and stick approach on my body. Lying to it, saying the top is just over the next peak. My foolish body believed me. I felt the pace slowly begin to pick up and crawl back in Eoin. We went across the wall. I ran around the big puddle and got my rythem back. Eoin was slowly coming back to me. Inch by inch. I knew I'd be on top of him by the summit.

Up over one summit, down the craggy bit on the far side. I felt my muscles tense on the descent. Rocky roller coaster to the top. I say a lone body standing on the horizon. Summit marshel? I assumed the peak was the one after.

I just kept the legs ticking over. I was closing on Eoin. I was still relentlessly working for every inch. I could see Peters white singlet up ahead. Depending on how far the summit was, I reckoned I could have him is well. Down again and then attacking the next small hill. My mind was solely focused on Eoin.

Dropping off the last of the hills I looked up and saw Peter and Tristain circle the rock. I dropped off the last hill and kept the legs turning. I had the hard work done. As I was half way up the final rise, Peter and Tristain came past me, they both looked to be hurting. Eoin hits the cairn, I do the lap and its game on. (Are you meant to go left or right??)

I come off the peak hard, wanting to put a bit of a gap between myself and the chasing runners. As I descended I noticed that I had a bigger gap on 5th than Peter had on me. This meant that I could be caught by the surely hard chasing Seamus.

On crossing the first flat section I pushed hard, wanting to get as close to Eoin as possible. It was no dice. He was gunning the pace. Hitting the climb Dan Morough yelled something, I was bordering on obsessed. Climbing and descending, climbing and descending. Trying to close the gap. I knew I had to catch him before the gate.

I was trying to stick to the faster sections of track. Soft ground where it didn't matter if I took a spill. I was stumbling at stages as I tried to get every centimetre closer to Eoin.

I could no longer look at just where my foot would land. I was concerned of killing a climbing runner - been hit by 60kg at +30 km/hr is going to hurt, no matter who you are.

My apologies to all those that I screamed at - if you couldn't make it out I said it consisted of "Excuse me, I can't stop -thank you" or that's what I meant :P

As the runners thinned out I could up the pace again. I began to feel the flow where your not running, the floating sensation of where your body is gliding down the slope in one constant fluid movement. Eyes watering, with the occasional stumble that snaps you back to the reality of the fact that your hurtling down a mountain as fast as your legs can turn over.

The beautiful view of a sun kissed mountain side.... scarred by that white singlet bouncing in front of me.

I hit the flat section and it was just a matter of turning the legs over. Eoin had secured a gap on the descent so it was unlikely I'd catch him. Plugging away I knew I had about 5mins left of running.

On turning the corner to begin the final drop to the finish , I took my first sneaky glance behind me for the first time all day - I knew I had a gap and I reckoned it was enough. Apparently Seamus was leading the chase pack, baring down upon me at pace.
When I looked back I didn't see individual runners, I just saw a group. According to Shea, I upped the pace.

The final section of the descent was along a hard packed rutted track. I skipped from one side to the other, attempting to find the softest ground. I was still giving chase but I knew the gap was too big to close. Coming up to the gate by the Wicklow Way, I upped the pace and could feel my studs wanting to give way again, it didn't agree with the stupidly sharp turn I was taking. Down the drop and through the gate. Eoin just in front, I couldn't live with myself if I didn't attack over the last section of the course. Down around the last bend, accelerating, just in case someone had cut the gap.

Got covered in sand by the young scouts - and crossed the line to finish 4th. A slight wait and Seamus crosses the line just behind me. He dominated on the descent.

This was just the warm up... the count down for Carrauntoohil is on . . . .