It was a sunny morning, mild for late October. I wore a red long sleeved top over my Naas running slip, which I took off as we were released from our holding pen and inched towards the start line. The MC was encouraging the wave 2 participants to break into song, however eagerness to get started and anxiousness for what lay ahead created an energetic calm within the crowd of runners. Watches beeped, and runners bounced from toe to toe but only silence greeted the MCs rendition of Molly Malone. Then the counting started 10, 9, 8, 7, people moved forward closing the gaps until everyone was shoulder to shoulder. 6, 5, 4, a collective deep breath, 3, 2, 1, … only 42 kilometres to go.
St Stephen’s Green, St Patrick Cathedral and Dublin Castle were all passed within the first two kilometres and I didn’t notice any of it. The herd of runners I was engulfed in was bursting at the seams. The roads did not seem wide enough as competitors jumped on to the footpath to try to overtake. The sound of carbon plated footwear as it womped off the ground gave the herd its own distinctive noise. When we turned right and crossed the Liffey we did so as if choreographed, like a marching band, those on the outside had to travel the furthest but remained shoulder-to-shoulder as the inside line slowed. The northside of the Liffey brought the first significant climb and finally I was able to escape the confines of the herd. I had room to move, to breathe. I trotted into the Phoenix Park pleased with my progress.
It was in the Phoenix park that I first encountered NTC triathletes supporting those taking part in the marathon. The cheers and waves were welcomed and gave me that extra bit of encouragement needed to reach the highest point of the race in Castleknock. As we turned to head back downhill and towards Chapelizod the roads again did not seem wide enough for the competitors. I caught up with the three hour twenty pacers and the group in their tow, and simply could not pass. I moved left and right across the road, on and off the footpaths but it was hopeless. There was simply no room, so I waited. I kept up with their pace and bided my time. In the last section of the Phoenix Park I saw my opportunity, I pushed through a small gap, brushing off two runners as they closed in behind me. Finally there was open space ahead and I settled back into my own pace.
At the halfway mark everything was on track, my pace was perfect and I was feeling great. Three kilometres later I was walking. I had strained my hamstring, a recurrence of an injury from Lost Sheep in September. I completed the first half of the race in one hour and forty minutes, a quick calculation told me that the second half would take three hours to walk. I have wasted enough time in 2024 questioning my decisions, I knew that my body would slowly succumb to the torture I was putting it through, but some times you just have to smile, put your ‘left foot forward right foot beside’ and keep going.
……... .In the last year, when it comes to racing, I have gotten sick, and injured more often than I care to remember. I have had DNFs, DNSs, and WTFs. I have worked hard to try to understand why this has happened, but all this takes a mental toll. What I have learned is that sometimes there is no reason or no good one anyway. You can do everything right and things just don’t go your way. That is ok, I will just keep going anyway, left foot forward right foot beside. …….
I crossed the finish line four hours and forty five minutes after I started. It wasn’t the race I wanted but it was the one I got.
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