Last of the Summer Wine

Old man take a look at my life

I’m a lot like you were.

- Neil Young

Fastlane Half Marathon

When I started writing here in 2012, at what now seems a relatively sprightly 51, I was aware that my running ‘career’, or at least that exciting part of it where you’re running PBs, would be relatively short. After a while, the plateau, that sort of thing. Six or seven years maybe, if I could be one of those lucky ones. Towards the end of that span, I was able to keep the PB train rolling by focusing on different distances, from 800m to 50k. But deep down I always knew that, for me, the most satisfying racing (even if it’s not my particular strength) is in that 10 miles to marathon range. So when the PBs at those distances started drying up in 2017/18 I found it a bit frustrating. Surely I could l squeeze out some more? Or at least one more?

And then of course Covid happens and you grind out a few fairly hard won TT times but wonder, even if you race again, will you ever get back there?

As those who follow my mundane adventures will know, I was slightly disappointed with the recent Galway Bay Half Marathon. I finished very strongly only to end up 6 seconds shy of the 2017 Charleville PB. I felt I’d left a better result out there. Had I been a bit quick to cave in to the tricky conditions during miles 9 and 10? An exchange with @ThebitterLemon, about how PB opportunities become rarer and rarer as you age… it resonated. So within a few days I was casting around for another 13.1 miler, and came across this race, from the people who brought you the Clontarf Half (a race I’ve never done). As I’ve written in these pages, I was a little wary, mainly worried that the course would not be accurately measured. No sign of any AI certification, that’s for sure.

Nevertheless, I put in a few more weeks of training and did the homework, running the course (it’s a two-lapper) the week before. Fairly flat with a cycle bridge, some drags and drops, a lot of bike-lane running through industrial estates, and a few tight spots where those lanes cross roundabouts. Good to have those things already processed. Quite a Dublin route, to be fair. There was also the risk of some strong headwinds on the Grand Canal sections, but thankfully this seemed less likely as I checked the weather forecast in the days before the race - gentle to moderate breeze only (it said, mostly accurately).

Had to be up early for a bowl of porridge to allow enough time to get across town to Clondalkin, pick up the number, park in the recommended Dunnes Stores spot. From there, the organisers had placed good directions to the start line (a welcome addition for those of us unfamiliar with Southwest Dublin). I was in good time and had a half hour to kill in the car park before the jog to the Grand Canal. Changed into the Vaporflys. I like the cold but conditions were a tiny bit on the too-chilly side for my liking, so I ditched the singlet in favour of a tried and trusted 2013 Irish Runner 5-Mile race top, then made my way to the start/finish area, which was well laid out with all the necessaries. Bag drop, hellos, and soon enough I’m lining up by the Ninth Lock. I’m not great at estimating crowd sizes - I would have guessed maybe 400 but apparently there were well over 700, half of them doing the 10k, which was starting - possibly unnecessarily - at the same time. I’d brought a mask but people were being mostly OK about the crowding. I left it in my pocket. A few announcements - the 1:30 pacer hadn’t shown up and fifty quid was offered to anyone willing to jump in (no takers). And we're off.

Lap One

Like the Galway Race, I found the taper had me straining at the bit in the opening km, and I concentrated on not exceeding the 4:27/km target. At the same time I didn’t want to go too easy and get swallowed up on the narrow path. Just kept it nice and steady, enjoying the feeling of feeling good, knowing this pace would be considerably more challenging in 45 minutes time. Switched to the North side of the canal bank via a cycle bridge in the third km - a weird feeling as the deck vibrated and bounced from the many feet, then just when you got to the end there was an even more disconcerting lack of bounce. A sanctuary runner I know passed and said hello on his way to what turned out to be a 1:24 finish, having enjoyed a textbook easy opening mile. Inspirational.

Some consternation at the end of the towpath when we came across a barrier, closed. Everyone had to file through the kissing gate, unless you were brave enough to hurdle the barrier, like one hardy soul did - chapeau! I’d noticed this potential issue during last week’s reccie and assumed the gate would be open. It was the only organisational black mark of the day, really, and had been fixed by lap 2. I pitied the steward who was getting a bit of abuse from some overzealous runners, not that he could do anything without the keys.

The course then exited the semi-rural environs of the canal and wound down the R120 before circumnavigating the Grange Castle industrial estate. Exposed at first and not very scenic, but once heading east again it was a relief to get out of the wind, make use of the water station and keep the wheels turning. A runner in black went by, chatting to an acquaintance who told him he was ‘flyin’ these days’. ‘No man’ll beat me’, he replies, before pushing on. Probably tongue-in-cheek, but I’d be wary of such proclamations (out loud) during a race, and more on that later.

My pace was consistent enough so far, but I was feeling a bit clunky. I’ve had a small head cold this week and wasn’t 100 percent on it. Noticed my feet dragging slightly, had to concentrate on the form and remind myself that any inefficiencies here would bite me in the ass later on. ‘Turnover and form, turnover and form’ (one of @Duanington's mantras) came to mind, and I repeated it a few times - thanks DD! A lovely shout here from James, former Cru clubmate and exemplary masters role model, out supporting, telling me I looked strong. Back around to the canal and soon enough there was the 10k mat (44:14, nicely) and the turnaround.

Still in business.

Lap two

The nature of the field - sparse - meant I hadn’t really picked up a group, just working here and there off other runners before moving on or being dropped. Turning west again into the wind, there were far fewer people around than earlier, so the going was a bit more difficult. But I'd anticipated this earlier and didn’t worry about it too much. Glancing at the km splits, I noticed a couple of slow ones during this phase, but that was OK. The main thing was, keep in touch until 16k. Stay in the game, as @FBOT01 likes to put it. The good news was the km markers (every kilometre, no distracting mile signs) were quite in sync with my watch, so no mental arithmetic necessary. Nevertheless the average pace had drifted out to 4:28 or 4:29 by the 16k turn, at which point I'd been totally isolated for some time. It's not like I'd lost concentration, just lost some ground. I could see a group of three lads about 60m ahead, not getting any further away, and I cursed myself for passing up an earlier opportunity to stick with them, now that we were all at this crucial stage of the race. No one really pushing from behind either, so it would be harder to wind it up. But I did get a bit of a boost from the easier going and just tried to consolidate through the myre of industrial estate. There would be a mile of flat downwind canal running to finish off, and as long as I was in touch with the target, I should be able to see things out.

Sounds great in theory, and doesn’t help that much when you’re starting to feel pretty shyte, trudging along alone, passing the odd blow-up. Up ahead with maybe 4k to go, I spot a couple of runners who’d passed earlier. “No man’ll beat me” is one of them, and he is looking pretty f**ked. If I can concentrate on reeling these lads in, I’ll be around the rest of this soulless industrial perimeter. Concentrate, D! Some more encouragement from James gives a significant boost as the pinch sets in. I’m sure I don’t look as strong as he says I do, but whatever works (and it WAS working)....

Pass another one of the blowups at the entrance to the towpath, and it’s game on for the final mile. No point in looking at the watch now, just race, and my other friend is in the crosshairs. He catches the slapping sound of the vaporflys though (worst race shoe ever for creeping up on people) and keeps looking around. Wait - is he actually picking things up? I'm delighted to see this - just what I need. But I'm confident I have him now, and if I can keep this finishing pace up the job will be done.

I go by. “Fair play”, he says generously, but I'm hoping for a bit more resistance than that. Suddenly I get the heaves after upping the effort considerably on the towpath. I know how to deal with this now - deep breathing, use the diaphragm, but it takes a few breaths and NMWBM has noticed. The footsteps are ringing and I fear I might be embarrassed (nothing worse than passing someone to be immediately re-passed) but thankfully the retching subsides in time. A jink to the right into the finish straight, which is on bumpy grass in a scrubby parkland between the canal and the nearby estates. Again, I’m glad I’ve noticed this earlier when picking up the number, because it’s a bit of a change and the shoes don’t like it.

The finish line is visible at the end of the longest 200m I’ve ever eyeballed. The tank is pretty empty, but time to exhaust the fumes. The clock is relentless, counting down to 94 mins. I know I have a few seconds of chip time in hand and squeeze out the last little bit to beat the number.

You been lying’ to someone about me

Stop!

- Pretenders

Must have gone very hard through the line because by the time I come to a stop to drop to the ground and take a breather, I’ve gone past the water and the bananas. A nice volunteer offers to go back and get them for me, but I recover quickly enough, enough to get the swag anyway. Banana, bag drop, small chats, photo op, then back to the car park. Didn’t feel like hanging around - not quite there yet.

I don’t usually enjoy post-race cooldowns but this one felt pretty sweet, knowing I’d finally gone under 94 and put that four-year-old PB to bed.

Well over two years since a PB of any sort (excluding TTs), so it’s good to be back. 😁

Splits (km)

4:25 4:28 4:31 4:25 4:29

4:22 4:23 4:24 4:23 4:24

4:24 4:37 4:25 4:34 4:36

4:36 4:29 4:27 4:28 4:22 4:07 (3:24)

Splits (mi)

7:13 7:07 7:11 7:08 7:02 7:04

7:08 7:15 7:17 7:32 7:10 7:09 6:47 (5:50)

_____________

Previous PB: 1:34:17 (Charleville 2017)

Target: 1:33:59

Result: 1:33:52

68th position (of 373)

VDOT: 48.6

Age grade: 76.0%

Verdict: F**k yeah!