A RAMBLING ACCOUNT OF CORK HM 2023
Entering a HM so you won’t “feel left out” on the day is hardly the stuff of legendary performances – it doesn’t really stand up to adversity or setbacks on the course. So it proved to be yesterday – I only entered on Wednesday and had done nothing only my usual 30 miles easy for the weeks beforehand. The John Buckley 5 and Ballintotis 4 showed there was reasonable pace in the legs but nothing really sustainable. LOL, spending Saturday night at the Frames gig didn’t help either, even if the gig was excellent.
Then there was the heat – temperatures steadily rising all week and as I warmed up along Harty’s Quay yesterday morning with the wind at my back, it felt absolutely roasting. Still, “it’s only a half”, “shorter than your Sunday runs” etc. I stayed in the shadow of a tree on Monahan Road until we were called into the pen, had a quick chat with Seanie O’Keeffe, the 1:30 pacer and then bang!, off we went.
No hassle with space on the road and I got into a great stride down Monahan Road. I had planned to start slowly and work my way into the rhythm of the day - looking for maybe a 1:28 finish - but jaysus, did I screw that one up and as we pinged the 1 mile down by the Pairc the watch showed 6:20. That’s 1:23 pace and even though I felt great, I knew there would be a price to pay. Still, I was in a rhythm now and had to go with it for a while to bring things back towards normality. Along the Marina – where we joined with the marathon - and Centre Park road, all was good and miles two and three ticked over in the more reasonable 6:30s.
I thought the cancelling of the relay would mean the course would be empty of spectators but I was well wrong – there was the usual huge crowd at the top of Centre Park Road and around by the Idle Hour. Fair dues to people, the buzz was excellent – I think a lot of the 10k runners hung around to cheer on.
Water station one was at AR Bronlow’s at the bottom of the South Link and I poured a full bottle over me before the first climb of the day. Around the corner on the link was where you realised that conditions were not normal – the sun was beating down, the heat was radiating up off the road and I was glad I had a cap on my head. Everyone was hugging the left hand side to get the few scraps of shade.
The funny thing with running in the heat is that you think you are running consistently – same effort, same stride, same pace – but you’re not. Your heart rate is going up way higher than normal and as a result, you are gradually slowing down. I actually felt OK as we climbed up the flyover and dropped down to Turner’s cross but was surprised to see my mile split drop to 6:46. LOL, after just 4 miles like – I didn’t even feel that tired – just hot.
In full amateur fashion I responded by increasing the effort and this, combined with the early pace, is what did for me I think. Through the water station for another shower at the kitchens place by the old Vita Cortex and on up around the back of Muzzer towards the Manhattan. The mile split came back down to 6:39 but just a couple of minutes after the water station, your mouth was already dry and your head could feel the heat. An ambulance crew had a shower station running on Connolly Road – nice one – but the climb up to Tory Top was going to he hard going in the state I was in. Up we went and the mile clocked at 6:57 – a real sign of trouble.
Miles 1 to 6 - 6:20, 6:35, 6:35, 6:46, 6:39, 6:57
As mentioned, we had joined with the marathon folks earlier on the Marina. This wasn’t great for them as we were running around a minute and a half faster per mile. There was even bunching and physical contact on occasion as faster runners tried to get through – which is shite if you’re struggling in a marathon. It was still happening, even up at Tory Top as we came through the 3:45 marathon pacing group along the narrow road. They should really start the half about 30 minutes earlier – that way the fields will merge at somewhat similar speeds. The other thing is that, dying as you are, you are still passing runners - because they’re doing the marathon – so I’m not sure if it’s a tonic or a distraction really. Defo the marathoners would say the latter.
Anyway, a kinder two miles was now ahead – with the exception of Hartland’s Avenue, there’s a lot of downhill – the fastest part of the course really. People were out in force supporting all the way along here – including a family on Magazine Road with pump-action water squirters. “Hit me! Hit me!”, I shouted, and they gleefully drenched me – nice one. Despite the kinder terrain, I was still fading and scores of 6:40 and 6:42 were the last sub 1:30-pace miles I would be doing. Knowing I was fading, I reckoned there was maybe a minute in the bank with five miles to go. It was definitely going to be touch and go whether I’d make 1:30 – I knew it was going to get worse but wasn't sure how much worse.
I had my young lad primed to meet me at the junction of Dennehy’s Cross Road and Farranlea Road. He had a flask of iced water with a facecloth in it and it was perfect for a fresh rubdown – nice one. Just as well because as we turned in Farranlea and began the climb to the Rendezvous the heat really hit us – straight in your face, no wind here and without proper training done, the body is starting to object mightily and lots of people are stopping. Under the circumstances, I thought I was going OK along Model Farm Road and Ichigaggin. There’s lots of downhill and I wasn’t getting passed. However, those miles slowed to 6:55 and 6:51 and we were in trouble now facing into the straight road.
The straight road is always a make or break in the marathon or the half. Lads are stopping (or worse, falling over) here left and right as the psychological impact of the 2.5 miles into the wind takes its toll. Of course, the thing to do is to break it down into sections but that’s not easy when you’re bollixed. The young lad had looped back and come out to meet me halfway in this stretch – another dose of the ice cloth was welcome for sure.
The last two marathons I’ve done, I’ve developed a really bad habit of stopping when I’d feel a twinge in the legs. It’s because of all the injuries – but it’s not a good move. So, as the time was leaking away along here, I resolved that if the 1:30 was gone, I was definitely not going to stop – no matter how slow that meant I would be running. This was a totally flat stretch but the miles were 6:51 and 7:04 along here – I was really p***ing through that time in the bank. However, I was passing people now who were definitely HM runners - so I knew I wasn't the only one in trouble and was moving through the field a small bit. More showering at County Hall and around onto the Mardyke – where at least we were on mile 12 – less than 2 to go.
At Fitzgerald’s Park the supporter supreme – timeout, fresh from his 10k earlier – was in full force. What a tonic! Still encouraging and calling at you long after you went by – brilliant, he definitely carried me to the Mardyke bridge where another flat mile had now unfortunately taken an alarming 7:04. Now I could hear the 1:30 group behind me – Seanie telling then “We have a 16 second cushion”. Jaysus, all my buffer nearly gone! There was a load of people walking at this stage, you’d be dodging them on the narrow pathway. Along the North Mall and Seanie is level with me now – “Do not stop! Do not stop!”. There must have been some response because I can see my speed did improve along here, over North Gate Bridge and over the ramps of North Main Street. Once you get around the corner to Washington Street, it feels like you’re there but then the line always seems that bit too far away down Pana. Right on schedule, we caught up with the 3:30 marathon pacers (having started two hours after them) and over the line in a heap together. 1:29:46 off the watch, 1:29:42 official time.
Miles 7 to 13.2 - 6:40, 6:42, 6:55, 6:51, 7:03, 7:04, 6:54 (last 0.2 at 6:41 pace)
Into the Long Valley for a runner’s quart and a beef sandwich and then over the Deep South for an afternoon with the Eagle posse. Half of Cork running was there, mighty craic. I was with lads who had done the marathon, and who had done very well – albeit in the earlier cooler part of the day – and I was negative enough about my own run. It was only on the way home around six o’clock that I met a neighbour who told me he’d seen online that I’d won the age group. Cork Marathon are tight and the AG is 55-64 so I was delighted with that – maybe not such a bad run after all.
I’ll take it easy this week and next – just the gym and some easy runs. Then I have to look at planning for Dublin. No point in half doing it. Maybe get to 40 miles per week before holidays in early August then 8 hard weeks when I get back. As ever, hamstrings permitting.
