College Champs

Thursdays plan was a 70min run with 2x5min pick ups. I got less than 30mins until I can completely out of energy and walked back to Donore. Worrying.

Friday, did an easy 30mins with Kevin English in the park. After 30mins my legs were in bits. I struggled home on the bike. Things did not look good. They did not look good at all.

Waking up Saturday morning, I took my heart rate. It felt slow, down by 13 beats/min from the previous mornings. Slightly strange. Shrugged it off and got my fix of coffee and massive bowl of porridge with fruit, custard and large spoonful of jam. SOP's for a race. Neck another coffee and it was off on the bike to Halls to pick up the car.

Car, full of awesomeness... Ruairi, Shea and Conor... Bashing out the tunes, heading for Glendo once again. Comments of its cold, and cloudy and misty and why am I out of bed were rife. Also stating that every cyclist we past must be Peter.

After much slagging and trash talking, enter the pain machine that is Glendo! The usual hill runners were about, Peter, after cycling, Ger, DC, Cleary twins. I feared the worst so I did whats natural and grabbed a coffee. Chatted to Peter and chilled out. Eventually I convinced myself to get changed and went for a warm up with Shea and Ger.

We were all making excuses. Everyone making up some form of excuse. Shea eventually comes up "This is some crap trash talking". Dropped down off the mountain and did a few strides. Then it was just killing the 5mins till the start.

On the line. A joke about a JCB coming to flatten the mountain and we were off. I made a promise to myself to do two things. 1) Do not lead. Sit in and wait and 2) do not look at my heart rate or pace, at all, ever. So off we went. I sat on Diarmuid's shoulder. He beat me in every single XC race this winter so I wanted his scalp, I was so close at the colleges only for Niall McA to cause a shit storm.

Nice and easy off at the start

Sitting in. Noone does anything. Its just an up tempo run up the track. No one is doing anything crazy. Suddenly McCloy makes his move. I didn't even consider going with him. I knew what was on the cards. He gets 30m and the gap becomes constant.
Down the small hill and then we're into the proper climb. Two Trinity lads move to the front and put on a squeese. Peter F and John are running as a team. They climb solid. Ger, Diarmuid and I jump up onto their heels and keep the group solid. McCloy is caught and passed as we slowly climb further up the mountain. I'm feeling pretty good. Unlike last year. After 8:27 we're on the grassy mountain. Last year I hit the same spot in 8:18, after sprinting my ass off... Interesting what taking the start calmly can do for the legs.

Diarmuid gets dropped as the two trinity guys up the pace. Peter O'F goes by me and I sit in 5th. Climbing steady. I feel good but a voice in my head comes back "for f sake. What the hell are you doing?! I thought you stopped this shit. It hurts. Just walk". This was a worrying thought so early in the race. I knew my legs felt fine so I ignored the voice and kept climbing. I could hear breathing behind me. I ignored it and kept climbing.

After what felt like forever we reached the bend in the track that signaled half(ish) way. I felt ok but my mind was completely against what I was doing. I hit it in 15:19 compared to 15:44 the previous year. I reckon I'll start slower in future.

Climbing, climbing, climbing. The breathing behind me stops, the four in front continue to battle it out. I continue to climb. The gap is probably at 10-20m. No need to panic.

No more easy.. Peter O'F takes the lead

We then enter the sloppy stuff, and it gets fun. The two trinty guys, in their first mountain race make a slight mistake. One slips on the mud in the flats, while trinity runner 2 starts to show his suffering by a few short sharp words . Never, ever, ever show pain on an accent. I dig in and get a gap. Closing on Ger. On Ger's heels. Tracking his steps. Peter O'F is just in front. He walks, he's hurting. Somehow, I found myself in the top 3 closing on the summit. Ger and myself close the gap on Peter. The gap is down to nothing.

We round the cairn in 27:25, less than 10seconds between us. (29:04 last year).
Kyle screams at me to take them... similar to last year.
I automatically attack off the cairn, I don't remember making a conscious decision to attack. I just find myself flaking it down through the rough stuff. Picking my footing. Gap closed on Peter and Ger, I'm on top of them. Ger hesitates on the drop off and I'm in front.

Me, allowing gravity to do the work

I just pick my line and continue the fall. I'm not pushing yet, just turning the legs over. Letting gravity do the work. I think maybe I have the title. Then I snap back to reality. Still a long way down. Legs turn over fast, feet are sticking to the ground. Not placing a foot wrong. Over the lower summit again and onto the really nice grass. I don't feel as if I'm moving as fast as last year on this section. But it still feels great. Down and down and down. I pass Gerry and he says I have 50 yards on Ger. In my head I think, boom, thats the title. I allow a smile to myself and continue on down the slope. I'm fairly moving. It feels great. After what seems like no time at all I hit the track. As I take off down the track I steal a glance back. I want to see how much I have on Ger.

A CNOC top and a white singlet. Blind Panic!!!! Seamus and Stephan had monstered the descent. He was almost on top of me. The panic continued for a second or two before a bit of logic came to play. He looked closer than he actually was. Keep it cool.

Cleary and O'Boyle

I fall down the straights and take the corners easy. I didn't want to snot myself again. They keep coming. I lose count of the bends. I'm running scared. I drop off the last steep track section. I skip the 5th gear and jump straight into a special "Must beat Seamus at all costs" gear. I push as hard as I can up the rise, knowing that he will be hurting a lot at this point. I don't dare look back. Round one bend... Where is the god dam finish.

When I saw this photo, I'm glad I didn't look behind me

Next bend... next bend. I glance over my shoulder. I couldn't see anything, but I didn't look very hard and didn't want to chance it. I push on. I can see the house. Its so close. Drive on harder. Must not be passed on the line. Have to make sure of it. With a meter to go I raise my arms in delight. Hit stop. 14mins dead for the descent. I let myself down as softly as possible onto the ground and roll onto my back. Close my eyes and apologies to my legs. Finally. A college title with the course record.

The sit in the lake was awesome. Worrying that it felt warm.

XC End line

This weekend saw the end of the Cross Country Season 2010.
The blistering fast 8km Intercolleges!

This is usually one of the fastest most competitive XC races in the country. The colleges with the big guns are usually DCU, WIT and Jordonstown, all of which have big athletics sports scholarship programmes.

DIT on the other hand are made up of a bunch of mismatch runners, from 800m runners and tri athletes to boxers and orienteers. Team DIT is formed with the infamous sports officer "Herbie", makes a call to arms. If you have too legs and look as if you can run, congrads you've made the team! Fielding a team is usually the objective and if that happens and everyone looks tired at the finish - happy days.

As seen as every XC race I've had the mispleasure of running since Christmas has been a pile of shit, I decided to completely chill out before this one. Got up as late as possible, had a (few) casual cup (mugs) of coffee and killed time online. Getting the bus out with the Trinity club. I arrived at the event and got chatting to the usual gang before I went off to clear the head and do a few laps warm up. The legs felt pretty good. Had a few quick words with Downesy before I went on my way. It appeared to take forever for the race to come around. Finally, the call up came and we were set to rock. A few strides, got abused by Herbie, the usual. Felt good. There was a fair bit of craic with the usual DIT banter, abusing everyone.



Gun goes and we're gone! I went off at a steady pace, nothing to mental. There were a few elbows flying but nothing like last year in Cork. It was all a bit mayhamic but things calmed down fairly lively. Around the first bend and trying to find my rythem in the pack. Then I saw Durrmaid going along the inside. Having been well beaten by him in every XC race this year, and considering I was feeling pretty good I decided to go with him. The pace was feeling qucik but bariable. Got abuse from Brendan, in the mid 40's. Hoping for a top 50, this was about where I wanted to be.

Down around the next few turns and I begin to realise how many Donore guys are about the place. Max, Oisin and Daragh are giving abuse at one corner, Downesy at another, Gerry at another. I was still feeding off the adrenline. Around the turn at the far corner and I could see the leaders fairly cruising. No idea who, but they looked comfortable. Down the back straight and a blue singlet came onto my shoulder. At first I thought it was Ger, turned out to be Lee VanH. This was a suprise, mainly cause a) he was racing and b) he hadn't left me for dead yet. He went to pick up the pace, so I went with him. After a while, he slowed it down so I jumped in front and tried to push the pace instead. Coming back to the turn where all the Donore guys were and there was alot of abuse. Down the home straight and much abuse from DIT.



The second lap was much the same, steady in the mid 40's. About half way through, Niall McA went past me like a freight train, I knew it was too risky to go with him, he was going much too fast. I knew it was a sprint to try break me mentally. This fractured the group I was in. The group split and I found myself about 10m behind Duirmaid, for company I had 2 cork lads with me. We contuined at that pace. The gap staying constant. Nothing happened apart from a whole lot of suffering for the next lap. On the same section of the 3rd lap, I fell asleep and let the group ahead pull ahead slightly more. I began to chase it down. Drafting off the Cork lads, sometimes pushing the pace. The gap just wasn't moving.

Onto the final lap and my legs felt fine, my lungs however just couldn't get in enough oxygen. I was pushing. I knew I had 6 places there for the taking at least. Down the back straight I went past the two cork lads and just gave it everything. Down around the small "hill" and onto the long run in. I was flat out. I could feel myself slowing down, I had thrown the kitchen sink at the race, I had nothing left to give. The two cork guys got away from me. I was in a world of hurt. I needed more air but none was coming. From the crowd I knew there was a DCU guy chasing me hard. I was flat out and I knew I was almost home. Less than 50m left, I couldn't help but take a slight glance behind me. It was a stupid stupid mistake. I showed him I was hurting. He was moving like a freight train and caught me on the line. I was disgusted but it was the best I could do.



Looking at the results, he was the guy I dropped last year coming into the finish in Cork. What goes around, comes around. (Seeing this made me smile).

All in all I can't complain. A good race. Gave it my all and it felt like I raced well. Unlike the Novies, Inters and Seniors XC Champs.

XC is over. Hopefully my speed and aggression levels have been topped up.
Bring on the O!