unironedman

A week of dodging, of sorts. It would have been nice to dodge the infection that has been hanging around for too long now; it’s been an unwelcome house guest that seems to have settled in, put its feet up and is not keen to pack up its things and bugger off. Sore throat, head cold, aches and pains – the usual, plus the odd bonus nosebleed. But work keeps you honest, so we’ll just have to wait it out. It’s mostly petered out, to be honest.

Tuesday’s run was in the park, and it was a very windy day. There was plenty of shelter down in the woods by the river, but once up on the way home, the exposed pitches had me looking for cover which I found behind a thick hedge. Not quite 6k, and a sluggish pace to boot. A run is a run.

Wednesday was rehearsal for Saturday’s gig, so the next run was Thursday (which has been standard practice for a while now, I suppose). I needed to pop out to the shops, so I combined the trip with a run. Mind you, I put on my running gear in the comfort of home, and once out of the car in the Lidl car park, I realised I was underdressed. Bright and breezy but rather chilly. But the beauty of unfettered capitalism is that I could buy a few bits of shopping and also throw in a light zip-up running top for €9.99 from the middle aisle.

I set off from the shop (which is beside my place of work) and joined the canal at the Matt Goff Bridge. (The modern bridge spans the railway and canal and is named after a local GAA footballing legend of the ’20s and ’30s. Sadly for Matt, though he is not around to be remotely bothered, those in charge have conspired to build one of the ugliest bridges I’ve ever seen). I had my fancy-pants speedy shoes on, and knocked out the first kilometre in 5:08. The next one was a bit more conservative at 5:26, then the third was 5:13. This was the signal to turn for home, just after Pike Bridge.

I picked it up a bit, with the fourth at 4:49, the fifth at 4:33, and then I pushed a little harder for the sixth and final kilometre with a 4:08. The average was 4:53. Under the circumstances, I shall take it as small sign of progress of sorts. This stretch may form some of the 5k course I will end up using for the sub-20 challenge. It’s along the canal, so naturally it’s flat. If I run from Maynooth towards Leixlip, I will make use of the tiny difference in elevation. According to Garmin elevation stats, it’s about 4 metres in my favour, courtesy of one lock near Intel (13th Lock, Deey Bridge). The prevailing wind would tend to favour the runner heading eastwards too, and that would also mean heading back towards Leixlip. But overall, it’s a reasonably neutral ground for the attempt. Four or five metres over 5k is imperceptible, unlike negotiating the towpath underneath Pike Bridge, and the road crossing at Deey Bridge with its offset gates. I suppose I could have a word with the local athletic club who have a fantastic professional track, and where I set my current PB, but where’s the fun in that?

The working week finally came to an end, and then it was on to the gig on Saturday. My voice had mostly returned, but by the end of the night, I was struggling to keep up on the vocals. Good gig all the same, even if we could have used a few more punters. The next trick was to see where I would fit in a run on Sunday. Bed at 2am after the show, but dogs mooching about downstairs get me out of that bed at 8.30 and I was out on the road within the hour. That would give me time to get in a reasonable distance and still have time to get Mum to church. And before the heavy rain set in.

Off up the Main Street, with heavy showers promised. Up the Old Hill, slowly, reminding me, once again, that living in a valley means every run will start with a climb. Along the Celbridge Road and right past the rugby club into Castletown Demesne. Some works underway along the river forced a detour, but then it was business as usual as I rejoined the path in front of the house and some respite from the spitting rain with a short stretch in the woods before leaving the comfort of the demesne and crossing the busy motorway intersection at Junction 6. This elevated and exposed vantage point allowed me to see the next dark mass of cloud heading my way.

Back on to the canal and a couple of kilometres of towpath. Enjoyable, normally, but now it’s bucketing down. I’m soaked when I leave the canal and take the last leg home down Silleacháin Lane. As I pass the green space in St. Mary’s Park, I cast my mind back. It was here when I first found a love for running, thanks to the late Matt Cunningham. That must be at least fifty years ago. Thankfully, the green remains.

I could not dodge the rain showers, nor could I avoid my own local trip down memory lane. But sure, what harm.

I reach home with just over 13k on the clock. Drenched.

I think there’s nothing for it but to begin the 5k programme. That’s another item on the agenda I can’t dodge any further. There’s also a vicious rumour that I may have slipped into Dublin on Saturday morning to pick up another pair of runners. I couldn’t possibly comment… (you mean you ‘dodged’ the question? ed.)

I have a 5k road race on Tuesday, and it will be a good indicator of where I’m at. I don’t expect great things, as there aren’t enough miles in the legs, nor much by way of targeted quality miles either: speed work, fartlek, tempo runs, hill work… that kind of thing. But it’s meant to be a fast and flat course, so we’ll give it a lash. Gary will be there too, so we’ll hoosh each other along. Just have to hope the weather changes; it looks a bit shit from here…

(That last one is Mary Oliver)