Seeking Knowledge

             Life begins at forty they say. Well my running life has taken a substantial upward curve, speedwise anyhow. In the two race's I'v competed in since, I'v taken home my first two running pot's. A win in the over 40 category at race two of the Doneraile park series (I went home without picking up this prize, a week after my birthday It had yet to sink in that I was now in the rank's of the old men and that I had bagged the first old man home prize), and a third place overall in the next race of that series. Ya, third! A three way dog fight until a km to go where well known hill runner Tom Blackburn and a younger lad from Killorglin showed me how to finish it off and left me gasping in their wake.

             Priceless after race advice from the big man reinforces my liking for this whole scene where running is king and winning doesn't really matter (sort of). Go out, run like f*** and go home with a big grin on your face. The 5.41 average pace contributed to the grin, 6 months ago I wouldn't have thought it possible, but after running a few quick miles in training b.m.s*, I felt brave enough to go out hard and sustain it for 5K.

A long downhill section soon after the start brought the cyclist back out in me.  Unfortunately running downhill fast has a more detrimental  effect on the leg's than cycling downhill fast. 

             "I think you ran down the hill a 'bit' too fast in the first half mile". My thinking on it previously was to make hay while the sun shines and use the force of gravity to assist me on the decline after the start. Not so. Another lesson learned. This is the type of invaluable advice gained from various different sources over the years that give's you the knowledge and confidence to try new stuff, experiment and ultimately improve your game, whatever it may be. Less formal than listening to a coach and for me, over the years is the only way to go. Everyone you listen to has their own idea's from their own experiences. Keep an ear to the ground and through experimentation in training you can filter out the shite and keep the best of it, on another level it makes for good conversation.

             For the last few day's I had to fight a virulent strain of man flu and decided this morning I was going to tackle it head on. A 10 mile easy run seems to be after beating it off and after a relatively easy few week's I'm ready to dish out a few more hard sessions. This was only the second ten miler I'v done since Mallow back in March. A heavy rain shower being driven by a block headwind at mile three shook me out of my slumber and forced me into a real nice, solid pace. When the rain come's like that you have to come to your senses and fight your way through it, had that shower not come I don't think I'd have ran the ten, I needed it to wake me up. When the rain was at it's heaviest I passed a runner going in the same direction, the facial expression was somewhere between a grimmace and a smile and that's probably the best way to describe the feeling of running in the rain. The grimmace brought on by the toughness of the situation and a confused smile wondering why the f*** your actually enjoying it!

            Two minutes later I got the start of 30 minutes of sun to dry me out, turning back for town with the wind at my back for the last three, another downpour. This was different, with the tailwind thing's are quieter, the rhythm of breathing and foot strikes on the wet surface is almost musical and an increased pace feel's totally natural. All of a sudden I'v a ten second lead on a chasing group of four with two miles to go, Just held 'em off  too!

           Home and hosed, the run, as usual sort's everything out. It's easy to lie on in bed when your feeling like shite but it can set a negative tone for the rest of the day. Getting out for the run turn's it on it's head and set's the tone for the day in a different direction.

          I'v had a taste of the 'other side' of late, being involved in organising a three race series of 5K race's around the Streets of Fermoy. It's been great so far and the help from all quarter's has blown me away (I won't go thanking people, I'll forget someone and there's still two race's to go!). The feedback from the runner's has been very positive and I'v a new respect for the thousand's of volunteer's and race organiser's that are flat out doing their thing (in all sport's) thro'out the country. Without them ....................

A section of the 120 participants who took part in the first Street's of Fermoy 5K road race on Thursday. 

*b.m.s - by my standards!

Until next time    
            

I'v just put down my weakest week training wise, so what's to write about? not a whole lot but it's nice to sit down, start hitting the keypad and see what comes out.

Since Mallow I havn't increased my mileage and have been keeping the weekly mileometer around the 25/30 mile mark with one or two speed session's thrown in depending on how I feel. I'v met a number of runners who run off a nine day cycle which mean's a bit more recovery between hard workout's. Younger guy's can lash out hard session's regularly as their recovery rate's and flexibility are a lot better now than they will be in twenty year's time.

I had intended running the half marathon in Cork but I havn't been getting the mileage in, so for the moment it's going to be more 5K's, 10K's and 4 and 5 milers to keep me sweet. Through the binocular's the Charleville half and the Dublin marathon are two race's that I'd like to have a go off but I won't commit just yet. Bigger distances mean bigger weekly mileage means bigger commitment means more pressure means a little less fun. You have to take things a bit more seriously basically.

While running the risk of being disowned by my ultra training buddies, I'm loving this shorter stuff, and after two trips to Doneraile for the Ballyhoura 5K series I'm pretty much hooked, to this event in particular. A casual outing on a Saturday morning, as much about enjoying the surrounds as enjoying the race, the atmosphere is light hearted, and then the hooter goes. Intensity is a big thing in a short race like this and pacing is as important here as in a longer race. Even in a short race like this it's possible to blow your light's by halfway if you go out too fast. So finding the pace that you can just about put up with for roundabout the 20 minutes is the key.

Brilliant sunshine greeted us on the latest outing to Doneraile

On this Saturday morning we were graced with blue skies, no breeze and a mild 12 degrees. Perfect running weather. 17.46 was the reward for my recent speed sessions, one full minute behind clubmate Mike Lyons who finished second with a 16.46. After the race it's a beautiful place to cool down in the shape of a 5k jog in the opposite direction around the same loop.

On a morning like this I reluctantly discovered that the long dark winter does take it's toll on a body as much as I might try to deny it. In the rain and cold you don't stop to look around, you won't sit on the bench and have a chat and you can't make room for the finer things, the struggle to keep warm and dry is foremost. It's always a struggle and it's only when the sun comes out that you realise it. The weight comes off the shoulders, the sigh's are almost audible, it's evident in the people, there's smiling and a buzz of conversation. Laughing even.

I make no secret of my love of barefoot running, of late I havn't been doing a whole lot as my two trusty venues, like the rest of the country are waterlogged. Interesting to see the Mighty Mo Farah runs barefoot twice a week, run's mostly on grass and track and covers 'on average' 120 miles per week.

Barefootin', Irish style get's a bit wet. where's Mo Farah now?

So what's next? I'm involved in putting together a few 5K's in Fermoy town which are going to be held during May. As much as I'd like to take part I'll keep the powder dry and try to do all four of the Ballycotton 5 mile summer series, carry on with the Ballyhoura series and maybe increase the mileage enough to head for Charleville with good leg's in September for the half. Keep it simple like.


    

Mallow 10 - race report from inside this head

Vibes from John and Brian over the weekend gave me the notion to chance going out with the 60 minute pacers. The first mile is spent trying to find my feet, mile two, I'm into my stride and cautiously allow the thought that I'm on a good day sit near the front of my head.

They're off - the 2013 Mallow 10 gets under way.

Not long after and I'm cruising through halfway in 29.45. I had'nt gone through the five mile mark this fast before in a 10 miler, not even near, and never so comfortable. These are the day's that make it worth it, running effortlessly at sub 6 min. pace is a new experience, mind removed from the body as I leave it to its own devices, this is where running comes into its own, becomes spiritual, all the shit falls into place and everything comes into focus. In control but fully aware that the hard part was to come and slightly lacking the confidence to carry it through for the full 10, I was making sure to enjoy the middle section of the race.

In great company, the 60 min. group was whittled down to 6 or 7 around the six mile mark, where we hit the first incline of the race. Not steep but this was the first point where I realised the party was over. The smell of rubber from the pacer's balloon was starting to get to me, that smell is always going to take me straight back to those last few miles on Monday. An old bike habit of trying to get the most shelter from wherever possible had me running 3 feet behind one of the 60 min. pacers as I started to suffer. Out through the 2nd water station, no way was I going to get one here, anything that might increase my chances of loosing contact with the bus driver had to be ignored and I was pretty well hydrated as it was.

Another incline at mile 8 has me digging pretty deep. Big questions rolling around in my head, 'how can I go through another 12 minutes of this?, Is there stuff in the fridge for the kids lunch in the morning?'. These are distractions and the main thing at this intensity is concentration and, believe it or not the ability to 'relax'. I had to 'relax' a number of times since the going got tough at 6.5. Under this pressure things start to go haywire, you start to lose form or 'gait', by settling down and 'relaxing' you can find it again, Later things get loud internally and trying to find the voice to tell you to relax gets more difficult the nearer you get to the line.

On the final incline at mile nine I'm pretty much on the edge. While there's a very physical battle going on at this stage to stay with whats left of the group, now down to four - two pacers, two time winner of the Ladies cork city marathon, Angela McCann and myself, the real battle is going on in the head. Still in it as we go over the top, I'm going to hang on, maybe? screaming at myself (in my head) I cracked, on a downhill section with 0.9 miles to go and I lose contact, This can't be happening? 0.8 miles to go after coming off the bridge and there's nothing in the legs. The head always go's before the legs.

I debated putting this up but it pretty much sums up the state I was in with 100mtrs to go

Struggling to the line in a time of 60.11 for 10 miles, mildly ecstatic at the new found knowledge that I can run at that pace for 9.1 miles (until now I would'nt have considered myself to be related to a runner, in my head I'm still a cyclist) and disgusted that I did'nt get in under the hour (A club runners milestone) for the distance. Dare I say it, it was all a bit emotional.

Midweek I was thinking 61.30 at best, which would have been a big chunk off my previous best 10 mile time of 63.19 in the same race last year. Driving to Mallow on my own I got a bit angry and got myself a bit psyched. On the line I was up for it and taking nothing more than 60 minutes but I was'nt totally convinced. This shadow of doubt and the knowledge that I was lacking some base mileage were the two main reasons I did'nt go under the hour.

I'v time lapsed that hour in my head a few hundred times over and can't find that 11 seconds anywhere. That's the satisfaction right there.

I found this short film during the week that hits the nail on the head. We all have the heavy day's where we're stuck to the floor, it's the search for the good day keeps us at it.

    

            Pics courtesy of Paudie Bermingham - Mallow AC

Two short sharp shocks please

I feel like Im missing something here. Since Dungarvan at the end of January I don't think I'v ran another ten miler. Eight miles being the most at any one time. Possibly not the cleverest of ways to prepare for the 10 miler in Mallow on this coming bank holiday and a small part of me feels like I'm not ready for it. Always one for experimentation, at least I'm fresh.

To look at it another way, I'v put down a quality month of more intense work, quality and consistency wise probably the best month I'v put down in 10 years. I feel like I'v climbed a rung of the ladder as regards speed, how long I can keep it for is the question, I'll find out in Mallow on Monday.

The track behind Colaiste an Chraoibhin - Once detested, lately it's been the scene of  some quality interval sessions. Once upon a time an interval session was 'flat out', keeping back a bit from the max and running with a bit more control is suiting me these days.

I got my first barefoot run in on March 1st with a few more since, yesterday's one left me with numb toes for half an hour, with ground temperatures just above freezing and a heavy film of water on the pitches I had to shorten it a bit from the planned easy seven miles. I don't want to tempt faith here but since I started this barefoot lark around this time last year I have been running faster and injury free. The sensation of foot on earth and mud is hard to beat and takes me back to feeling like a youngfella again with a warm tingling on the soles of my feet for a few hours after. Running or therapy? I don't know. It's damn good anyway.

Since Dungarvan I'v discovered 5K's. Highly addictive little races. The first one being in the spectacular grounds of Doneraile Park in north Cork and the second being on 'the flat as a pancake' Marina circuit for the latest bhaa race in Cork city. Both only 20 minutes drive from home. Certainly got the endorphine rush and I feel like I'm even cheating a bit, purely for the fact that I'v been out there for less than one third of the time of a ten miler. After growing up in an environment of long distance bike races and more recently a spate of marathon training last year, environments that dwell on long term suffering where fetishly flogging yourself for hours on end is the norm, I found it hard to convince myself that I had earned the 'high'.

My trusty old Brooks Green Silence have a few miles in the tank at this stage and I'm sorry to hear they've been discontinued.  Any suggestions for a similar type shoe as a replacement for when I'm out on the road?

Quality speed work, that's what they are, little 20 minute power trips. Now I'm convinced and chomping at the bit for the next one. They've taken a bit of gloss off my 10 miler project on Monday which I'm currently trying to motivate myself for. Finding the right pace could be tricky, the urge to run on the limits for 20 minutes will have to be  resisted and trying to find a more conservative but lively enough pace to put in a good time will be the trick of the day. This running game is an art. Run too conservatively and kick yourself for not trying hard enough, go out too fast and fall to pieces with a few miles to go. If I could just get it together to fall to pieces on the finish line, that's the optimum performance.

All in the name of fun!

www.kealansbikeshed.com

The Ying and the Yang

You'd think it easy to write about the times your going bad? everyone could relate to it, a large percentage of training time is passed feeling fatigued and stuck to the road. Squeezing a run in between work and family life leaves little time for recovery so you have to take every hour as it comes. If there's a gap you get out. All this rushing and racing, 'why am I doing this?'

As a 17 year old I had it down to a tee, get out of school, head home, get the bike ready for that evenings club run, have the tea served up (an hour and a half before getting out! cheers Ma), upstairs put on some sick eighties pop and lie on the ground with my feet high against the wall until twenty to seven.

If your not going to have a good session with that preparation you can throw your hat at it. That routine would start a week or two before easter and carry on until the nights closed in on us sometime around the end of september, all through inter cert, all through leaving cert. Its hard to divert an addict. In any case my rationalisation for getting out was all to do with the importance of fresh air to the 'thinking' brain, this of course was fact, but the scales tipped heavily on the fresh air side instead of an ideal 'balance' with the book eating side.

This picture was taken in 1971 at Pearse sq. Fermoy, A bit before my time but not a whole lot has changed on the domestic scene bar a bit more bling.

That did'nt matter. Cycling mattered. Working for the day that it would all come together, the day's when I would'nt feel the pedals, be able to sit on the front of a lineout until it split and lead home the remainder of the group. those day's would come but not very often. Consistency was the key and for all the hard work a small but potent wreckless gene was always lurking to throw a spanner in the consistency works.

The hard work involved in being competitive at a local level was enough to snuff out any notions of taking it any further. An average week would mean anything from 12 to 16 hours on the bike and when things got specific it could hit the late teens, Thinking about it now I was fairly close to the top level of pure clean sport around these parts, In actual fact it was 'real racing'. Things start to change on the next rung up. We knew who was going well and we tried to beat them, if we did'nt, no harm done.

Pressure to win from the boss, the thought of 'losing' prize money, delays in getting the promised big win for the big sponsor changes the whole picture. Like in business, some people will do anything for the extra buck. Top level sport is not about sport but the business men on the sidelines, sport is the product and, no denying can at times be entertaining with the ability to make you forget what's actually going on in the background, if only for a time.

An interesting article by Ian O Riordan in The Irish Times last week shed light on a new level of underhand corruption in top level sport, this time in Australia and another piece in www.stickybottle.com outlines the attitudes of premiership footballers looking for that extra hand. If your maxed out on hours and starting to fall to pieces your choice is to call it a day or get some 'help'. Manufacturers and suppliers of the multitudes of PED's could not survive on the very limited cycling market. The products are there to be sold.

For the past few weeks I hav'nt had a leg on me, sore hamstrings and quads have been the norm. Not normally one for PED's, Iv just been putting up with it. A two night stag in the meantime did'nt help things. Against every textbook, I went out and ran four quick mile pieces tonight out of the blue, quicker than I'v run in a long time. It hurt a bit, but the buzz of knowing I hav'nt totally lost it as I approach the big four Oh! was enough to know I'll be out again before the end of the week.

So big thanks to whichever of my ancestors passed on that seed of wrecklessness. It continues to serve me well. 

www.kealansbikeshed.com

      

On Tour

        Part 1 

          Sore legs at the John Treacy 10 in Dungarvan last week prompted an easy week with four days of no training sandwiched between a Monday evening swim and a Saturday morning bike ride. These old legs needed the break. An experimental two hard weeks leading up to the Saturday before Dungarvan left me with damaged limbs that easy time will always heal. I'v ridden bike race's with sore legs as part of an extended training block, but the hour+ of relentless pounding are no comparison to no impact pedalling. Well recovered at this stage, a five miler this evening should be enough to get me back in the right mindset.

           A 64 min. 10 is pretty close to my best, a big positive out of this one is that its the first one I'v ran 'under control', that's to say I did'nt go through the first mile in the top 30!, ran my slowest first five and fastest last mile of any previous 10, with sore legs. So, happy enough on the way home.
         
          Happy enough, For any runner the thoughts of going faster are always to the fore, on the drive home they become overpowering. You can take the positives but the negatives will always remind you of whats involved in the task of trying to go faster. As soon as the shoes are laced up for the next run we'll all just get on with it, Dungarvan will be old news, even at this stage, it's old news! your only as good as your last race.

         Old news it may be, but it has now become one of the 'must do' races on the Irish scene. Very well organised in an athletics stronghold that has a habit of pumping out great runners. On the previous night over in Boston David McCarthy wore the West Waterford AC singlet to a 3.57 mile behind Olympic silver medalist Galen Rupp. These people know how to run a race (no pun intended, they know how to run a race and they also know how to run a race). Wide roads, great facilities, sunshine and a storm force gale finished the jigsaw.

        This early in the year the calendar is bursting. Like a child in a sweet shop it's hard to decide which one's to pick. Four, five, ten miles, hill running, bike races. I'll take them as they come. My tried and trusted formula at this stage. Long term planning does'nt work in this house!

      Part 2 

Ballyhoura's rolling hills are a magnet for many 

        I got out on the bike last Saturday morning, windy but damn bright. A low lying winter sun made it a day for the shade's, the spray of water from the wheel in front and the dazzling sun kept the grimace on my face for the return trip from Kilfinane. My first trip into the Ballyhoura region on a bike for quite a while. A brief excursion on a hot summers evening for a hill race last June was my last reason to head out there. If you hav'nt been, it's a spectacular area, more so on a morning like this. Characterised by a continuos barrage of rolling hills, The rise through olde worlde Ballyorgan on the road to it's big brother Kilfinane being the most testing.

        On a morning like this it's hard to resist the bike bug, so I'm laying the blame firmly on the good company, weather and terrain for passing it on again. As far as I know there is no cure for it, but it is a cure for a multitude. Endorphins overiding the sore neck and shoulders overiding the occupational hazard of heavy legs. A similar but different feeling than you get after a similar length (timewise) run. The novelty of going a lot faster for the same effort (If I could run 3.57 miles average I'd be well up there!) was a welcome break from what's become the norm for the time crunched thirty something.  

www.kealansbikeshed.com      

          

       

                     

Up an at 'em

           Impatience and a sudden urge to cut short the 'off season', got me out Sunday morning for what turned out to be a bit of a morale boosting treat. Coming into Christmas with good form set me up for my annual 'physical breakdown', two week's of soul destroying lack of energy started to wane after the first week of the new year. So with a week and a half of training since new years day, I jumped in with Maurice and Brian for the short trip to Little Island on the lower east side for the FMC bhaa four mile. A nice distance to stretch the legs and get the body back in the zone for the year ahead. Erring on the side of caution, confidence can only come after a few strong outings and its been a while since one of those came my way.
           The benefits of a race like this are far reaching, The nervous energy of over 500 runners milling around at the start is infectious, niggling injuries disappear at the sound of the starters gun and the tide of runners has the ability to carry you at a faster pace than you can ever push yourself in training. A solid run with plenty in the tank coming into the last half mile was my reward for a sensible start. Not knowing how much suffering I could handle kept the manners on me till almost within sight of the finish clock.
           The bhaa (business houses athletic association) is comprised of a dedicated group who organise a full calendar of events thro'out the year, the flagship events are the Cork City Marathon and the famous Cork to Cobh road race. Anyone can take part, but the majority of runners are running for a named business or company.
           A nice bonus on Sunday was to be one part of the winning Avondhu motor factors team in the B grade. So, we got a 24 minute high end tempo run, fed and found, a new jacket each for the winning team  and a bit of craic, all before midday. Heres Results and photo's for anyone interested in the breakdown.
           Next up is a bit more of an ask, The John Treacy 10 mile road race is as hard as the man who lends his name to the title. The former world cross country champion and Olympic silver medallist from the locality will grace us with his presence on the day. Hoping to keep it together to run a strong last few miles, My previous efforts have been exhibitions in inexperienced running, going out like a hare and coming home like a turtle.
          Last Sunday's four miler has broken the ice and has opened the door to a new training zone, with the benefits of last years full year of running now starting to show and the proximity of  the early season 10 milers, it's probably time to get going.

Kealan