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!
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