Clash of the titans

Saturday the 18th of August saw my partner in crime John Craddock, our web guru extraordinaire John Healy and myself take part in the Frank Duffy 10 mile road race in the Phoenix Park.

With Craddock moving ahead of us early, Healy and I decided to stick together for the first half or so of the race before battling it out to avoid the wooden spoon. Shortly before the seven mile mark the lamest race in the history of mankind began. Two men, with a combined weight approaching 40 stone, evenly split between us, did battle over three merciless miles.

I took an early lead of around 60 yards which I extended to close to 80 at one stage but Healy kept reeling me in to within 30 yards. He was getting awfully close for comfort and while we were certainly no speed demons there was pride at stake. With less than a quarter mile to go I bolted one last time and Healy was beaten. I crossed the line in 2 hours 19 minutes and 54 seconds, 40 seconds ahead of John. Considering this was my first race since the ankle injury I was pleased enough with the time

In addition to avoiding the wooden spoon I was given a €20 spot prize which I hasten to add is the first official contribution to this year's STIG for CF Ireland fund. Craddock wasn't crazy about his time of 1 hour 36 minutes and 25 seconds as it was around 6 minutes longer than he'd hoped for.

Emmet Ryan

Banged up but back in action

Last year’s marathon training was curtailed by my hernia, this year’s was delayed by a couple of months as I managed to injure myself and then make it worse.

It was a simple run play between Foxy and me. John got the ball, didn’t quite get through the hole and amid the melee a big fat defensive tackle lands on my left ankle.

That was April and for those who didn’t already know I play American Football so I’m prone to being in situations where big fat defensive tackles are likely to land on me. The one upside is that when I play this most of me is covered in padding.

My ankle is one of the areas that’s not.

But this of course is only half the story. I finished off the game thinking it wasn’t much and then lined out again for a game against Carrickfergus two weeks later. Man that hurt a lot. I knew it was bad but I figured 'sure there’s only one more game after this before I get to rest it for a month.' A week later I lined out against the Dublin Rebels. Four plays into the game I limped off having not been hit once. The damage was already done.

I went to my GP and he told me that I tore the ligaments around my ankle the first time and that I re-tore them at least once by going too hard on it in the subsequent weeks.

The end result was that I limped, a lot, for a couple of months. I was dying to get a walking stick, anything to help make me more mobile. I plodded on though without one, making the most out of what little support my umbrella or a nearby railing could offer until eventually I was able to walk reasonably normally again.

Then on Wednesday I started afresh. My fitness may have taken a big hit over the past few months but I’m back and ready for action again so John and I went for a run.
We didn’t stay out too long but thankfully that had nothing to do with the ankle, I was just wrecked.

Emmet Ryan