I was humming and hawing about this race for a while. I wasn’t sure if it would benefit me in the long run. With WOC selection so close, I didn’t want to do too much damage.
All week I was battling with myself. On Wednesday, things had reached fever pitch. I had to make a decision. So I said I wouldn’t. I wished people good luck and set myself up for an easy weekend. Wednesday night, I didn’t sleep very well. Same on Thursday. Something was nagging me. Come Friday all I could think of was Tonelagee. I had run up in a little over 20mins the previous Sunday morning, and I had suffered. I knew I wasn’t that unfit after a hard winters training. The nagging in the back of my mind reached fever pitch. I was pacing the kitchen drinking coffee from Friday lunch time on. Eventually I sorted out my kit for a run on Saturday and went Curragh direction. Before I left, I decided to throw in the hill running kit, just in case I changed my mind. On the Luas, I was listening to some music. Bashing out a bit of Iron Madian, Run to the Hills. All I could think about was Camaderry and Tonelagee. After a few stops, I had become obsessed. Nothing else entered my brain. I was mentally picking lines in the terrain, attempting to map the entire area in my head from what I saw from my run on Sunday. I had lines picked and different strategies. When I looked down at my hands, I saw that I was physically shaking. I was so pumped. I had to race. To hell with the JK, if I didn’t get a race out of my system this weekend, I risked doing a stupid big session during the week and not running well at the JK.
I sent a text PN’s direction. I began to feel nervous. He doesn’t race unless he means business. I tried to use logic, I’m almost half his age, it’ll be grand. The other side of my head was arguing the opposite. PN doesn’t race unless he intends to win. Its not the winning he cares about. He likes to hurt himself in terrain. I had no idea how strong he was at present. He can descend hard.
Race tactics were revised. Planning and plotting how to take him down. I knew he had recce’d it, this route was his baby. He wasn’t going to let anyone get in his way.
Saturday was an easy run. Kept it cool. Then the problem of a lift arose. I made a few calls. Eventually got a lift with the O’Boyles. They’d get me there at 11:30 if everything went to plan. It was slightly frustrating as I enjoy been there early but beggers can’t be choosers. When I got home and was packing the kit, Ollie came to the rescue. He was heading to the orienteering in Clarabeg, I had gotten a lift for Brian and myself. Sweet. Game on.
Sunday morning dawned early, up breakfast, coffee, the usual. Getting slightly nervous. Unsure who’d show. I was mentally prepared for a battle of attrition with Brian, Jason, Peter and championship running newbie Ian. PN would be somewhere close to the action. He’s always there. Somewhere.
Landed at the gap. Mick Hanney looked delighted I had shown. All smiles in the mountains.
Got changed and began warming up. Legs felt heavy. Always a good sign. It just means your body is begging you to not go through with the madness. My body knew what was coming. Turlough, PN, Bernard… The Usual suspects at an off roader. No sign of any of the big guns from last years championships.
This increased the tension I was feeling. PN and Turlough begin to trash talk. I knew they were talking shit, but you can never write off someone who wants it badly. I did a mini recce, running up the hill as far as the stake and attacked down the hill, I wanted to see what the ground traction was like. My logic been that if it came to a sprint finish, I’d plan on having the extra gear and the added knowledge. Taking it at race pace felt good. In fact, it felt awesome. My body had woken up. Now we really wanted to race. This was going to be the ultimate blow out session before the JK.
Everyone drops over to the start. Mick calls out the standing orders, something about steep dangerous crags… I think. I was focused on the start of the track. With a 3, 2, 1 we were gone. I reckon I had a micro second of a break in my eagerness to start climbing.
Accidently I hit the front. I climbed and didn’t look back until I reached the first marshy section. PN and Turlough were with me. PN was breathing extremely heavy. He was taking the mick. Needless to say I followed suit before we both stopped playing mind games… briefly. As we climbed, the abusing began. PN was throwing out comments on the poor standard of IMRA if an orienteer is leading. PN took the lead and I sat in behind. After a while, I made an acceleration to see would they respond. They continued at the same pace. After a while, they caught back up with me. More comments on why orienteers shouldn’t lead hill races and his surprise that I was still able to run up the mountain. Turlough was breathing heavy, when PN asked his opinion, the response was one of “we’ll continue this in the carpark”. He was gone. Slightly over cooked. I enquired if he was hurting due to his heavy breathing. “I’m only faking Colm”, I responded with a cheeky comment of “so was I” before I accelerated. I pushed maybe a little bit too hard, but the burn felt good. I begin to toy with the pace. PN caught back up (“and then there was two) and went by me. I jumped onto his footsteps and followed. After a min or 2, I took over the lead climbing. He enquired about the time, 10:05 climbing time. “Oh goodie, we’re almost near the top… but the question is do I add a min or take a min for the bullshit factor?”.
It was smiles all round up to this point, however, things were about to get a little more serious. The climb began to level off and the chat stopped. Across the flatish top to the cairn, PN rounds first, I yell out the climb time (16:05) and we begin the first drop.
He takes off. Time to unleash my tactic. Stick to the reccer like glue. I think recce’in is a nasty habit than I can not condone, but hey, following ain’t cheating in mountain running.
I follow him stride for stride down the muddy track. His technique is clean and efficient. I could go past him, but I need his line. After PN said it was like a mountain marathon, he couldn’t have put it better. We got down further, our paths begin to zig zag, when he zig’d, I zag’d. It was mountain running bliss. No feeling is better than cruising down a mountain effortlessly. To a non mountain runner, it looks suicidal. To those lucky enough to venture into the proper hills, it is a peaceful experience. Avg pace on the drop was 3:30min/k. It was cruising. I would have loved to see a 23 year old PN going balls to the wall down it… feck that, I would have loved to let go!!
We hit the flat and PN takes a sharp right and drops down to the lake. The orienteer inside me doesn’t let me follow directly, I stay slightly high and end up on a sheep track. Tipping along, I see him 20m to my right. My sheep track meets up with PN’s and we’re again on top of each other. Crossing the river, I look up from PN’s shoes. It looks awesome. PN dives left into the heather, I follow suit, thinking he knew of a secret sheep track. No such luck. Beautiful energy sapping heather. I follow PN until after a while a voice appears in my head. Why are you following a GEN runner in terrain. Man the f*ck up. So I picked my own lines and got a gap… and by got a gap means I went in front, slightly.
Climb climb climb climb and we’re onto the saddle. PN is running comfortably. He starts up the climb and contuines to run. I follow suit but I’m soon down to a walk. PN keeps turning the legs over. I keep walking. The gap doesn’t increase. Sweeeet. Glad to know he wasn’t going to drop me on this steep climb. I’d never live it down. I plug away and he plugs away. He looks behind a couple of times, I was going to say, don’t worry about them, we’re well clear, but it was fun seeing PN looked concerned. The climb begins to level off. I begin to get the legs turning over. I see PN’s legs not turning as fast. I need to get a little gap before the cairn, I wasn’t in the mood for a hard bloody thirsty sprint down the mountain that would take me a week to recover from. I up the pace and get over the earth bank and have opened a tiny gap (I can’t see PN’s feet if I look down). I run up to the cairn, roundabout, check my direction and begin to attack off the top. Looking to my right, I see a muddy trail of inov8’s, Walsh PB’s and Salomans. Guess that’s the accent route. That could have been a costly mistake. I take off and cruise down the mountain. I reach the top of the track and let gravity do the work. I’m tempted to lets out a loud “Weeeeeeeeeee” as I pick up speed. A few close slips but I recover well. As gravity is doing its job, falling with style, I make a mental note that I have two world ranking races next weekend. Now is not the time to break my neck, leg or ankle. If PN wants it and goes past me at speed, I won’t give chase, but he has to do it at speed. Cruising down, I past Paul (the dude with the camera) I yell out whats the gap… “10seconds”. Its enough from where I am now, I think. Down further and I pass the stake that I ran up to. A mental note revision, he ain’t passing me now, he had his chance. I hit the last corners hard, accelerating in and out, down the last drop, into the mud. I take a quick glance behind me, no one, accelerating across the mud, happy days. I wait and applauded PN across the line. Guy is an animal.
End of they day, he did what he had to do and I did what I had to do. Slowly learning that I don't have to go off like a bat out of hell to get a win. A bit of tactics is always fun.
Good flush out session before the JK. Legs feel awesome. Climbing is good. Bring it on.
