unironedman

Week Two of the Programme has drawn to a close. Or finished. I could have just said finished, I suppose. But I went with the idiomatic turn of phrase. Hemingway would have tut-tutted at that. Indeed, he would have tut-tutted at ‘at that’ too, come to think of it. Extraneous material. He’ll probably come back to haunt me. (Amazing bloke, and an amazing life. Ultimately tragic, in that he went the same way as his father, who, as an aside, had hemochromatosis. Here is a great quote from the great man on his ECT treatment: “It was a brilliant cure, but we lost the patient.”).

Tuesday was the fearsome Intervals. The Programme called for 7 x 400m repeats at 3:30 pace. Last week’s baptism of fire (Hemingway’s Ghost just stirred again…) along the canal bank made me think that perhaps the sanctuary of the park and the grassy pitches might be a softer option. Softer underfoot, perhaps, but certainly no softer on the legs. Indeed, the lack of bounce on the grass probably sucks a little bit of return from your runners. But no matter. The large field with several pitches side by side is a neat one kilometre all around the boundary, with about 400 metres on each of the longer sides. I’ve used it for repeats before, but never attempted this pace.

I once again failed to hit any of the repeats at the target pace, but I felt, on reflection, that perhaps I could sense a small (well, tiny, really… ) improvement. All of the faster segments were under 4 minute pace, and the best was 3:34. So I will clutch onto these small details like a drowning man in a tsunami of flotsam.

Wednesday called for 6k at 5:45 pace, so I did 6k at… 5:45 pace. Sheer dumb luck, to paraphrase the late, great Maggie Smith, in her role as Professor McGonagall. If I can’t manage the speed, at least I can manage the paperwork.

Thursday came, and with it more intervals. I had swapped Thursday for Saturday in work to allow me to take Tamsyn for a routine check-up, so at least I wasn’t too fatigued. No matter. The 1k repeats are far worse than the 400m repeats. Done at a merciless 3:55 pace, I again chose to do them around the pitches. I took Tamsyn along as official cameraman (yes, yes, I know). I figured I should probably try and make a short film about this sub-20 attempt, and in order to do so, it occurred to me that I should be filming some of the training sessions.

I may be biased, but Tamsyn did a fabulous job. Certainly better than I did huffing and puffing around the track. There was a stiff breeze, and it added about 30 seconds onto a 1k time trial effort, by my rough reckoning. The best I managed of the four was 4:09 pace. The wind really kicked the shit out of me, and I have filed away this important piece of knowledge for the ultimate attempt, when and wherever that occurs. It was always factored in, but when you see the raw data and experience it like that… well, suffice to say I shall not be running if it’s windy, put it that way. The astute might observe that on a rectangular run, a headwind does indeed become a tailwind, but you never get it back. Much like running on a hilly course. The Runner’s Paradox. Or something. I just made that up. (Well, if you search that phrase online, you will find there are a few theories about such a paradox, many along the lines of ‘I like to run, but I also hate running’).

Friday was a rest day, which worked out well, as I had bought tickets for myself and S to see Les Misérables in the 3 Arena in Dublin. Bit of a rush to get into our seats before the 7.30pm showtime, but we made it. And what a show! In an era of AI, TikTok and all that other bollocks, it’s easy to forget that when you go to one of these lavish musicals, it’s all live (sure, I know some of the sound and lighting is programmed, but the orchestra and singing is all live). And as a bonus, Irish tenor Killian Donnelly was in the lead role of Jean Valjean. Matt Lucas did a great turn as Thénardier.

Saturday was another shortish run of 7k which was to be done at 5:30 pace. Finished it in 5:22, so a little fast, but that’s ok. And then on to Sunday. I wasn’t sure Gary could be tempted to join me for a pacey 12k but I was wrong, of course. Gary rocked up at the house at 8am as planned, and we headed out towards the canal for a warm up jog before tweaking the pace up to 5:30 and beyond. Indeed, we tipped along the canal and then into Castletown Demesne and each kilometre saw us under the target pace. 15k in total, including the warm up and warm down. A good way to finish the week. Not that it gets any easier, my friends. No, indeed.

In other news, I did a few songs at a local open mic night on Tuesday. A mate runs this once a month, in the GAA club. Nice little session. I did about 8 songs.