The Sunday Column - Part one of the campaign is just hours away

Monday morning will see John Craddock take to the streets of Dublin in part one of STIG for CF Ireland 2008.

John's done plenty of these before so he knows what he's doing and despite his own protestations he has done a reasonable bit of training for this race. A personal worst will be mocked if it occurs, the pressure's on.

We'll have updates during the day when possible, though this will likely be just one highly useless one just after the start. My flatmate however might be able to deliver more useful updates later in the day with more relevant information.

Late tomorrow night we'll have a video of John's race highlights, including pre-race experiences at the registration Expo. Stay tuned to this blog for further updates.

Oh and seeing as it's been at least three days since the last shameless plug for the charity element of this, you can donate to the campaign to show your support for John and me at our MyCharity page. As always we're grateful to everyone that's supported us to date.

The Sunday Column - News update

There's been a few developments in the campaign lately so this week's column is dedicated to bring you all up to speed on these, along with other musings.

John Craddock will formally kick off this year's campaign on Monday week, that's the 27th, when he takes part in the Dublin marathon. We're both in tapering mode which means no booze or training until after our races. I may even consider giving up caffeine, maybe.

Before all that I've a feature appearing in Tuesday's Irish Times related to the event. It'll be in the Health supplement and focuses on the unique physical challenges facing a man of my build that opts to do a marathon. Keep an eye out for it.

We've received plenty of reaction to this post where we're looking for you all to suggest songs for my iPod playlist. Keep recommending tunes please. Every song you suggest will be played so long as we can find it.

Healthwise, the cold is setting in. I still feel grand for the most part and am piling in vitamin C and soup. I am getting a tad stressed about this whole matter so my apologies if you run into me and I seem a bit on edge about it.

The Sunday Column - The last big runs

I am breathing heavily as I write this. I'm set to 'taper' in a week (more on that further on) so I needed to get in a couple of decent length runs before then. Thus this morning and yesterday I hit the mean streets of Ranelagh.


'The Distance', by Cake

I had contemplated doing the Simon Community's 5 miler in the Phoenix Park on Saturday morning but getting out there in time for the 10.30 start was just plain unfeasible.

Instead I opted to do a similar distance around my own area in Ranelagh. I've a lap of the area set out that's just under 2 miles long so three of these would be ample replacement. At 11am with my iPod on my arm I set out from Anna Villa. Around the corner on Ranelagh Road I encountered what would be a recurring obstacle that morning.

Babies, lots of babies. Ranelagh's full of them in their buggies, being rolled around and generally proving an obstacle to cumbersome runners like myself. If slalom running ever becomes an Olympic sport I'm a shoo-in for gold in the over 100kg category.

In my haste to get around them I realised that I had done an awfully fast first mile, I kept this up for the rest of the lap and was duly feeling it with two thirds of my run still to go. I ran a much slower second lap, as more toddlers swarmed the streets of my adopted village.

Up by Belgrave Square I took a mild breather before getting going again. Word to the wise, when you're feeling wrecked and need to keep running 'Stronger' by Kanye West (yes I know it's just a Daft Punk cover, but it's a great cover) is quite a good choice. In more refreshed form I took off on the final lap of the morning, slowing as I came to Birchall's at the corner of my road.

Later that day, having realised I wouldn't be drinking that night, I figured "Fuck it, I'll do another five tomorrow". So at 9.30am this morning I took off once again on another three lap stint.

Sundays are great. Parents are too tired or hungover to bring their kids anywhere, especially that early, so the roads were empty. Ranelagh was a virtually buggy free zone. The one family I did come across that could have impeded me even managed to spot me at a distance and the father moved the rest out them out of the way to clear a path (yeah, that dude's a ledge).

This morning's five was actually faster than yesterday, and both sets were done at a pretty hard pace. Thus I am sitting on my couch three hours later, still somewhat out of breath. Of course the flatmate isn't even out of bed yet, lazy sod.

The reason I decided to put in these two sets when I did was very much a matter of timing. From next Sunday I'll be tapering, which is the fancy way of saying taking it easy until race day. The typical advice is that runners don't do any hard runs in the two weeks before a marathon and instead just focus on staying loose.

So with my training nearly complete for this phase it was time to get in some good miles before race day. I'll likely do another five next Saturday morning before the tapering period begins.

The Sunday Column - Draw results announced

The 2008 STIG for CF Ireland Prize Draw was held on Sunday and no expense was spared...actually scratch that, no expense was incurred in our staging of the event. Check the video below to find out who won.



Congratulations to all the winners. We have a major announcement coming midweek so keep an eye out for another video in the next few days.

If you missed out on the prize draw and still want to donate you can do at our MyCharity page.

The Sunday Column - Meeting my team mates

Saturday morning saw me pay a visit to the Spawell to meet up with the other members of Team CF Ireland.

Twas an interesting enough event. We heard the different stories as to how people got there. Many of these were tough going, no shock there, as we heard from one girl in our group who lost three siblings to Cystic Fibrosis and two guys, also doing the race, who have children with Cystic Fibrosis.

We also shared war stories about past experiences in distance running. A couple of the others are a tad worried about the prospect of doing their first marathon. I reassured them somewhat by pointing out that I'd done three to date and was still standing.

Martin Cahill, no not The General or one of his relations, is organising our group which will participate in the race. There are three Persons With Cystic Fibrosis (PWCF) in our group that will do the race, though none were present on Saturday. I was informed at the event that this is the preferred term and henceforth it's the one this blog will use.

On the kit side of things we hit a snag. While we had no problem getting tracksuits bottoms, a polo shirt, and fleece to fit me there was one problem. I'm comfortably the biggest member of the team (no shock, how many offensive linemen do marathons?) and getting a singlet for me is proving a challenge. It's be handy to have one to wear over my t-shirt come race day.

If we don't resolve the issue it could lead to the continuation of a bizarre little tradition that has occurred in every marathon I've done to date. In 2000, 2006, and 2007 at least one American has roared "Come on O'Neill's" at me as the sports gear manufacturer's logo was the most recognisable/only insignia on my t-shirt while racing.

The Sunday Column - 2 PBs down, 1 to go

Yesterday was the Adidas Dublin Half Marathon in the Phoenix Park. John Craddock and I lined up with a rather large field for the 13.1 mile course.

My tactics were similar to 10 miler a month earlier, run the odd numbered miles and walk the even ones. This time though to make the time go quicker I brought along my iPod, in my new little holder for it on my arm.

I had actually paced out the playlist so that I knew where I should be by the end of certain songs. Creativity somewhat took over around 5 miles in as some songs simply had to be included even if they broke the routine.

A simple tip for any running playlist: AC/DC, lots of AC/DC. Aside from that there was a shedload of Jim Steinmann penned tunes, assorted other power ballads, three variations on the Rocky theme, and Can't smile without You by Barry Manilow. Yeah, yeah we all have at least one song in these list worthy of mockery.

Anyhoo back to the race (which began with 'Start me up' by the Rolling Stones), and thanks to my system I knew I was flying on my running miles and not too shabby on my walking ones. I had a minor panic towards the end of the fifth mile (the last one under the system) when 'Song 2' by Blur ended and I was nowhere near the mile marker. I then realised that I still had the whole of Blondie's 'Call me' to go to remain on schedule and I reached it well before the end of that.

I pushed through and was still perfectly refreshed through seven miles, around the point where the fast people finally disappear from the course and stop running into the backs of us normal racers. I'm just going to say this: Races like these with just the fast people are only paper-scissors, to play the game you need the Rock.

Unforgiveable puns aside I quickly worked out that I had a problem ahead. Military Hill, or whatever its called, is the worst uphill part in the course. It's also the guts of a mile. On the first lap I walked it but I was scheduled to run it on the second lap in the eleventh mile. This would be tough.

It didn't start well. I was breathing heavily and my legs weren't in a running mood. Halfway up the hill the help I needed arrived. 'Promontory' from Last of the Mohicans. As in this:



This was some seriously motivational music! Got through the mile, well almost. The stewards were cleaning up the course and one of them asked me if I knew the rest of the way in, this lead me to believe that they were picking up course markers and putting them in their van. I said yes and asked him where the mile marker was, he said it was around the corner. When I didn't see it I assumed they'd annoyingly yoinked it (I'll explain why I assumed they'd do something so unhelpful later on) but in fact it was 2 corners away so I walked an eighth of that mile.

While walking the twelfth these two ladies approached me and one asked "Are you Emmet?" I said yes, vaguely recognising her face. "You gave us great tips last year, we wouldn't have finished it otherwise." That was really, really nice of them I thought.

In case you're wondering all I said was that walkers should run the first 50 yards or so of every mile to freshen up their muscles. I don't know if it's a physiological or psychological effect but all I know is that it works.

Meatloaf's 'Anything for Love' (thank you Jim Steinmann, thank you!) was in full swing as I hit the last mile. Man this hurt. I pushed on for the first half mile, had to stop and walk for a while, then pressed on again for the final quarter mile. As I approached the bend I could see the clock, I had a new target. I utterly needless sprinted around the final bend to guarantee success.

You see before the race my hope was a time around 3hours and 3 or 4 minutes, which would be about a minute a mile under my previous best. I figured breaking the 3 hour barrier was a little beyond my reach at this stage but lo and behold there it was, 2 hours 58 minutes on the clock. I raced around just to be safe but this 10 seconds of sprinting was wholly a case of showboating.

I crossed the line around 2 hours 58 and 40 seconds, again this will likely come down by around a minute when the chip is calculated (this discounts the time spent waiting to get to the start line). Essentially it means I beat my personal best by at least 17 minutes which is well ahead of my target.

That puts me in good stead to make a serious challenge at my PB in the marathon proper in November. The big difference between that best and my previous bests at this distance and over 10 miles, is that I set this all the way back in 2000. A time when I was a much lighter man. Still I'm confident now, whereas before I was only hopeful.

Before I go I have to say something about the organisation of the race and it's not positive. When you pay a fee to enter one of these things you expect a reasonable level of organisation. After the problems last year I wasn't exactly brimming with confidence.

Sure enough the stewarding was far from ideal this time. There were a few problems with directions aside from the bit I mentioned earlier but the most irritating bit came at the end. When I finished they had run out of goodie bags.

This is kind of important as after three hours on the road a body is crying out for something. The goodie bags come in handy in this regard as they're loaded with sugar. The last thing I expected was that they'd run out, I've stewarded at distance races before and they usually overstock to ensure this doesn't happen.

Ah well, rant over. I wouldn't let that ruin my day. I'm delighted with the time and confident I can build on this in the weeks ahead.



Just a reminder our Mycharity.ie page is up and running. You can donate there and help us reach our target for 2008.

Keep an eye out this coming week for the first Guest Post this year...actually come to think of it, it's the first ever, on the STIG for CF Ireland blog.

The latest Sunday Column possible - Back in the habit

Egads! This is nearly a week late. I was away in San Francisco on holiday last week, hence my failing to post on time. Pics are online here so feel free to give them a gander.

Despite not training as such while on holidays the oh-so-hilly streets of San Francisco ensured I stayed in shape whilst on my travels. It's just as well as I've got a half marathon in the morning!

We'll have the breakdown of how that went in this Sunday's column which I intend to post on time.

The Sunday Column - Heading to San Francisco

Tomorrow morning I'm heading way out west on holidays with Stephen Errity. We start off by flying into LA where we'll spend the night in Thousand Oaks, a much nicer sounding spot than our original plan of going to Inglewood.

From there we'll head up the Pacific coast hitting San Fran on Wednesday and staying there until the following Monday.

Oh and we'll totally be playing this...



And this...



...in the car on the way there. See you all when I get back.

The Sunday Column - Anti Training and the bigger picture

Two days 6 films, a fair bit of TV, and countless amounts of junk food. This isn't taking it easy, this is a different kind of punishment.

Steve decided to have a DVD weekend and a good weekend it was. The triple-bill on Friday of Stranger Than Fiction, The Departed, and Escape from New York got us off to a good start but I didn't make it home until 4.30am. The doorbell woke me at 10am and I never really rested between then and 6pm when we kicked off at Steve's again. This time a quadruple bill was on the cards but not for me as it turned out.

I hadn't eaten a solid meal since lunch on Friday and chocolate and crisps do not a dinner make. I got through The Conformist fine but faded badly during Blood Simple, and it was still reasonably early. Having essentially slept for the final 15 minutes of that movie I decided to stick it out for one more, so Dirty Harry was put on.

I love that film yet still the night-night express powered forward. So I missed the final film of the night, Rebecca, and trundled home but before going to bed I saw a most unfortunate message from Keith. You see Keith is running the Great North Run for leukemia charity The Anthony Nolan Trust and was going to run it with his pal Lucy but unfortunately she's had to pull out due to health reasons. I know Keith will put in a good performance on the day and he assures me that his running buddy will be fine but it still acted as a wake-up call for yours truly.

The timing of the message wasn't lost on me. I deliberately took it easy his week to let my shins recover but went a tad far on the relaxing by going mad with junk food at the weekend. I'll have to show a bit more common sense in the weeks ahead.

The Sunday Column - The other side

Following Sinead's experience as going to the Kerry vs Monaghan qualifier a few weeks ago I found myself in the Canal End, or Davin Stand as they now call it, for Sunday's Cork vs Kerry semi-final clash.

A bit of background is required first. I'm a devoted Dubs fan that usually goes to every game the boys in blue play in a championship season. My Dad used to be club secretary of the biggest club in the country so I was brought up with the mentality that the three most important things in my life were (1)Crokes (2) The Dubs and (3) Tipp hurlers, in that order. Dad would have preferred I switched 2 and 3 around but that just ain't ever happening.

The powers that be in the Irish American Football League managed to schedule games for the DCU Saints, as in the the team I play for, that clashed with every game Dublin played up to and including the Leinster final. No worries, sure I'll make the quarter final. Then the GAA went along and moved the date of that game to clash with a trip to Galway I was already committed to. No problem I thought, sure Tyrone are muck. Oh dear, that didn't work out well at all.

So here we were late in the championship season and I hadn't been to Croker for a non-rugby match in 2008. This just wouldn't do so I opted to go and watch Cork & Kerry play in front of a less than half full Croker in the All-Ireland semi. Now I could write a full post about why this game should have been played in Thurles but I'll spare ye for now.

My company for the day were Kate, from Bantry in Cork via California but whose Dad is from the Kingdom so therefore she was up for Kerry, her brother William who has the same characteristics, his girlfriend Ríon (sp? and no it's not Ríona) who said she was 'half and half', and the aforementioned patriarch of this grouping Mr Tom Fitzgerald.

On the way down Clonliffe Road a photographer and journalist from the Irish Mirror stopped me and Kate for a photo. He then moved me out of shot as I was not a pretty blonde in a Kerry jersey. Kate did some America's Next Top Model poses and then we confused matters by explaining her whole geographic origins.

It was at this time that I also explained to the journo where my allegiances would lie that day. Cork and Kerry are two counties I generally root against so in the past this would be a tough one to ponder but over the years I've had to face similar questions so many times that my answer was simple. It had to be Cork that got my backing on this day because, as I told the intrepid reporter "I'd rather cheer for Meath than Kerry."

It's like cheering for the New York Yankees or Man United. You just don't do it. It's wrong, it's fundamentally against everything at the centre of my being. So in we went, 3 and half Kerry fans with 1 and a half Cork fans.

Much like Sinead, Kate doesn't have a great grasp on the game of Football. This doesn't bother her in the slightest and that's fine. Unfortunately for her she was seated beside a sports nut that's managed one Soccer team and been a selector on two Hurling teams, which led to plenty of tactical shouting and explanations, as well as reffing in three sports including Football, which led to lots of shouting and explanations on the fouls. None of which she wanted to hear.

Sorry about that. I actually do it everywhere bar UCD soccer games, even my flatmate's tag rugby team have been subjected to my rants from the sideline. Worryingly that team is so bad that my advice improved matters and trust me that isn't a good sign, but I digress.

Shockingly there were more Kerry than Cork fans in the stadium. A turnout of 35k was still appalling for this level but Kerry fans never go to games other than finals. Obviously they must have more fans living in Dublin, it's the only possible explanation.

The first half was lively enough but after the break Kerry took control. With just one score in the first 33 minutes of the second period Cork looked down and out. It appeared as though once again I would leave Croker cursing a victory for the Kingdom. Suddenly however Cork were just a goal behind.

Then the Rebels were awarded a penalty. This led to probably my most ill-informed piece of tactical analysis of the day. As I was sitting at the far end of the stadium I thought the foul was committed outside large rectangle. So I say to Kate "That's what I'm talking about. You foul him before he gets into the box," in a blood-spitting tone. "You do whatever it takes to win, it's about the team. You sacrifice yourself, even if it means getting sent off and missing an All-Ireland final. If that's what it takes, you do it."

Then of course I realised that everything I just said was irrelevant as the foul was inside the box. There was still a chance to redeem myself of course. The penalty itself. Coolly I reassured the Kerry fans around me that all would be fine. "They [players] never get these. He'll miss. He's going to choke, they always do with these last-minute penalties."

It's in the net, Cork are level. I've been proven wrong again but no matter, Kerry are no longer winning. A late effort at a point from the Kingdom hits the post and goes wide. Finally I leave Croke Park having seen Kerry fail to vanquish a foe. It's not a defeat but it's a start.

Postscript
We headed back to Kate's where we lounged for a while before enjoying some nice Mexican food in a place on George's St (the name escapes me). After that we headed on to Sibín, formerly Crush, for a drink and some free boxty (nice!).

I capped off the night by heading home and watching the final of Gladiators. Yes I taped it and yes I'm glad I did. The two final eliminators rocked.

The Sunday Column - One personal best down, two to go.

Booya! Far from perfect but lobbing 5 minutes off my personal best will do nicely.

I went into the Frank Duffy 10-mile road race in the Phoenix Park with a headband and a lifetime best of just over 2 hours 15 minutes. So looking like a cross between Rocky while training and Will Ferrell in Semi-Pro, I lined up wearing John’s number.

I had missed registration during the week but luckily John had spotted the earlier than usual deadline and registered himself so he could lend me it if necessary. So off Emmet ‘John Craddock’ Ryan went, a man with a plan.

Like all good strategies it was simple. Run all the odd numbered miles, walk all the even ones except the last which I would also run.

I got off with ease and approaching the mile marker I considered changing tactics. I was feeling very comfortable but no, no I wouldn’t change horses mid-stream. Hannibal loves it when a plan comes together so who am I to argue.

So I walked the second mile, ran the third which was uphill. Ouch, need to plan better. Walk the fourth and I am cruising. Four and a half miles in the most wonderful thing happened. We turned onto the second lap, free from all those sodding elite athletes that keep breezing by my back as they lapped me. Pesky fast people.

At this stage I was selecting targets, using other racers as markers to watch my pace on my on and off miles. As I slowed to walk they would overtake me for a few minutes but when I started to run I soon overtook them. It worked well and as I turned onto the eighth mile I started to bear down on the sole one still ahead. I left her in my wake shortly after the last water station.

With the rain beating down I forced myself forward. The nine mile mark, I break from the plan. I need to cease running for a while. Half a mile later I kick again.

The final bend and I’m breezing past runner, I’m still fresh enough. I see the clock and cross the line with 2 hours 10 minutes on the clock. When the chip is calculated that’ll knock anything from on to six minutes off that time.

A new PB and unlike the last one I still had something in the tank. It’s far from perfect but you’ll hear no complaints from here.

Next up is the half marathon, again in the Phoenix Park, next month. My PB there is just under 3 hours 16 minutes. Then there's the you-know-what in November. One down, two to go.

The Sunday Column - Raising the tempo

Saturday morning was the first 'serious' run for myself and John. We did six miles around UCD, consisting of a single mile lap and then a five mile lap. There's no easy way to do six continuous miles around Belfield so we improvised.

The performance was not too shabby but not what I was hoping for. Of the six around four were run properly with walking breaks making up the other two. My aim was to get an extra half mile of solid running in but it's far from panic inducing.

Next Saturday is the Adidas 10 miler in the Phoenix Park. The plan is to run 6 of the 10 miles, which should be enough to beat my PB of 2 hours 19 minutes and 54 seconds. In truth I'll be looking to lob a large chunk off this time so anything less than a new best should set the panic alarm.

At present our training schedule consists of 2 kilometres of circuits, where we mix sprinting with jogging, on Tuesdays and a two mile run on Thursdays. Coupled with the longer weekend runs and races this is likely to be our schedule for the foreseeable future, possibly adding half a kilometre to Tuesdays and/or a third mile to Thursdays.

Next week's edition column will look in detail at how the 10 miler went.

The Sunday Column - We have a winner

Congratulations to Bob Corr who has won tickets to the All-Ireland Quarter-Finals this Saturday in Croke Park. My apologies to Bob for mispronouncing his surname in the video, I read his name as Carr on the list of tickets sold.

If you didn't win fear not for everyone who participated in this draw will be entered into the main draw for the big prizes next month.

Tickets are still available by contacting me at emmetryan@gmail.com

Remember all the money raised goes towards the Cystic Fibrosis Association of Ireland as part of our 2008 which climaxes this November when I run the New York City Marathon.

Last chance to win Premium tickets to the All Ireland Quarter Finals

The early entry deadline for the STIG for CF Ireland Prize Draw is this Saturday night. Anyone who hasn't reserved a ticket before this date will miss out on a chance to win 2 Premium tickets to an All Ireland Football Quarter Finals double header in Croke Park on Saturday the 9th of August.

The winner will be announced through a video which we will post in the next edition of The Sunday Column. This means it will likely go up on Monday the 4th seeing as my internet connectivity as of late hasn't been smashing.

We will still be selling tickets after this Saturday and everyone who buys a ticket will get a shot at the big prizes which are listed here.

Tickets cost €25 and can be bought by emailing emmetryan@gmail.com

The Sunday Column - Stick with the day job

"Ooh a 99," I say. No, not the ice-cream. I was expressing my delight at breaking 100 on a pitch & putt course, where par is 54. My cohorts were little better. My flatmate shot 86 while my coach and training partner for the marathon covered the 18 holes in 80.

Not one of our tee shots finished on the green, the closest amusingly being one by myself that was about a foot off. Even that was a fluke taking a wicked hit off a tree.

Here's the scary part. That's our best combined performance since we started semi-regularly playing around a month ago. Needless to say none of us will be getting called up to the PGA tour anytime soon.

The real race training steps up a gear this week. I can confidently say that there is no way it will be as embarassing as our performance out in Sandyford. It might still be dire and woeful but not on the same level as my short game.

The Sunday Column - Back on the road

Around 5pm on Sunday the American Football season ended for the DCU Saints. For me this was the end of one regimen and the beginning of another. At around 7.30 this morning it was go time. The pads were put away for the summer and out came the runners, shorts and t-shirt.

As with any programme I’ve got to begin lightly but there is the added pressure that as I’m behind I’ll need to ramp it up a bit to be ready for the half-marathon in September. This morning was only a half hour jog around Ranelagh and into Rathmines. Tomorrow will likely be similar but soon, very soon it’ll be longer. It’ll be harder and it’ll be faster.

It will also likely not feature any knocks to my noggin, at least none that are deliberate. I gave a few of the lads a bit of a scare yesterday when I spoke rather butchly about the dents in my forehead following the Cork game on Sunday and how they likely explained the killer headache I had. They dents were a result of the force of impact and not due to the helmet’s tightness, I knew it was too loose to be anything other than hits. I’m sure the other guy looks worse though.

Having thought nothing of it myself (I’m well used to getting knocks to the head at this stage, it comes with the territory) I had gone about my day normally, after all I had work to do.

After a bit of coaxing I eventually agreed to go to see my GP about it to make sure I hadn’t got a concussion or anything else. My regular doc wasn’t in so I saw the other one in the clinic who isn’t used to my regular visits about my litany of injuries. As a result she was taken aback about my unconcerned attitude towards the aforementioned dents. It turned out that I was grand and hadn’t suffered any damage.

The visit did at least give me the opportunity to share war stories with Lucy, my GP’s receptionist, about various knocks we’d both received on the playing field. She used to play hockey and had taken some nasty hits from a hockey ball a few times, and trust me those things are like rocks.

Neither of us however could claim an injury as unfortunately amusing as Anna who used to be in Commerce International with me. She got hit in the face with a hockey ball shortly before our exams in second year. The result was extensive bruising that covered around both eyes and her nose. Those of us who didn’t know she played hockey immediately thought she had been beaten up and she had to repeatedly tell people that she was not the victim of an attack.

Well that was all a bit of a tangent. Anyway as I was saying the real training is underway. I’ll keep you all informed of the early progress over the coming weeks.

The Sunday Column – The drawbacks of success

This coming Sunday I play what will be the most important game I’ve played since I took up American Football three years ago. It’s also the cause of a substantial obstacle to my marathon preparations.

While I am delighted to be on a team in the playoffs I have noticed the difference in my fitness over the past few weeks. I’m in optimum condition for football but that is not necessarily the best shape for running.

Last Saturday should have been the first preparatory race for the New York City Marathon, the Adidas 5-miler in the Phoenix Park. Due to the extension to the football season I had to give this a miss as I have with much of my running based training. I’ve bulked back up slightly, which is necessary for the upcoming game or games, but the challenge will be to drop this again after the season ends. There is an upside, strength-wise I’m doing fine and frankly don’t need to build up on the power front any more for the race. While crushing people generally isn’t an important part of marathon-running, this part of my preparations should still translate well on the stamina front when I start back running again. Still it will take my body a couple of weeks to adjust.

The knock on effect is that with a 10-miler ahead in August I’ll need to ramp up the early part of my resumption of training in order for this race to be of any real use.

Essentially the biggest drawback is that I have to shuffle matters around in order for the half marathon in the Phoenix Park in September to be at the point in preparations that I need it to be.

If I had the choice would I change any of this to be able to prepare earlier? Not a chance in hell. New York can wait; I have business in Cork to attend to first. The Admirals are my only priority for now.

The Sunday Column - Imagining victory

The column that refuses to go up on its intended day arrives early for once this week.

I'm over in Paris this weekend to cover the Imagine Cup, essentially the World Student games of Innovation. I'm here with fellows hacks Marie Boran and Karlin Lillington.

The Irish sides competing have put in a good showing. Acid Rain from NUI Maynooth drove all the way here (well they went on a ferry as well) from Dublin in a cooking oil powered car. The Opel Astra used is demonstrating a new technology aimed at making it easier to use biofuels in cars. Despite being the only team to make the judges stand in the rain, the Maynooth boys did enough to progress to the final. They have a legit shot at the world title when the winner is announced on Tuesday.

Sadly there was disappointment for Sligo IT's Park it team. The students from the North West had designed software to aid people when looking for parking. Despite putting in a solid presentation, Sligo failed to make it through to the semi final.

Congratulations to both teams on making it to the final. As a cheesy tribute here's an aptly named ditty by Belouis Some. I opted against a certain John Lennon song as it's just too obvious.

The Sunday Column - A wonderful delay

Playoffs!

The scoreline says it all: Belfast Bulls 0 DCU Saints 6

On Sunday in Belfast the DCU Saints beat the Belfast Bulls by scoring the sole touchdown of the game early in the final quarter. Having played at various positions across the offensive line over the past three seasons this was what it’s all about. The victory put the Saints in the playoffs for the first time ever. After three years of toiling, struggling to prove ourselves, we have made it to the knockout stages.

It’s undoubtedly the best reason possible to delay my return to marathon training.

I haven’t done active running training since April as I was focussed solely on the American Football season. I had found earlier in the year that the difference in preparation for the two sports was substantially different to a point where my body essentially forced me to choose for the short term.

The choice was easy, Football is what got me back in some kind of shape a couple of years back (yes I used to be in much worse shape than this). I’ll write in more detail about the difference it has made to my life after the season is over but for now I’ll focus on one joyous moment.

We were underdogs going up there and truth be told I didn’t know what to think going into it. A draw would be enough to go through, but ties are rare in Football. The first quarter ended scoreless and it didn’t enter our thoughts. Then halftime approached and there were still no points on the board. With the wind forcing both sides to focus on their running game the clock was running virtually without stopping, and a fast clock was our friend. Belfast had to score, all we had to do was stop them.

The third quarter ends and it’s still scoreless. This is the time to strike. With good field position we begin to drive.

The hits go in. The line’s objective is to force the men before them out of the way. The goal for the receivers and tight ends is to get open. The running backs sole aim is to go forward not back, while the quarterback has to manage these tasks.

Eklof to Collins, touchdown. Eight minutes remain.

Belfast take to the field. The Saints D succeed in forcing the Bulls to eat up a lot of time without making significant gains. With less than three minutes remaining the offence return. We get the hits in. Now is our time. We believe.

But on this occasion we come up short. A fumble turns the ball over and with a minute to go it’s all on the D to seal the deal. A converted score from Belfast would give the hosts victory and a place in the playoffs. Not this day, no this was the day DCU stood firm and held out. This was the day the painful memories of the past were put to rest.

A wave of relief, elation, confidence and belief came over the team. The season could end as soon as a fortnight from now or it could yet have another month. Whatever the case I’ll gladly keep off the roads until that day comes. It’s well worth it.

The Sunday Column – Bring back the story

Last week’s column was tangentially connected to the race at best. This one has even less relevance but it’s so important I just can’t let it go.

Music videos need to tell stories again. I realised this at Def Leppard’s awesome co-headlining gig with Whitesnake in Belfast on Saturday night. During the gig Leppard played a video in the background for one of the song Nine Lives. I’ll let my buddy Steve describe the tale of this tape.

“There’s this girl... and she’s really hot. THE END.” The actual promotional video tells an even shorter story. There’s a band playing a song, the end. That’s right, the video Steve described actually had more thought put into it.

What the hell? I’m all for rock videos featuring raunchiness and attractive women but there used to be some attempt at context. Artists used to try and actually do stuff with their videos, to give them a point rather than just being pictures that played over music.

One man knew the power of a video more than any. Not Peter Gabriel, not Spike Jonze, no the man that truly said “I want to tell a story” was Lionel Richie.

Yes, ‘Hello’ is a cheesefest of the highest order but it’s a video in which stuff actually happens.

There’s a dude, Lionel Richie, who really fancies this girl in a university class he teaches. Dude is really nervous about hitting on girl, possibly because it’s quite dodgy to date a student, so instead he just walks around roaring HELLO. This is often done in close proximity to his victim, who happens to be blind so can’t see this nutter is in the vicinity. This doesn’t prove effective so Richie decides to ring her, showing that she isn’t even safe in her own home. Then a student tells our protagonist to check out the sculpture class where the girl this dude has been stalking has made a giant clay model of his noggin. The stalkee explains this is how she sees him, though she doesn’t reveal that the sculpture is so the cops know who to watch out for. Richie responds in the only way he knows how, by shouting HELLO. The end.

This is way more detailed than anything current artists try to convey. This is the level of effort we need to see from music videos. Music + moving pictures + stuff happening = Good.

The Sunday Column – The loss of a legend

Tim Russert 1950-2008

I was sitting in a garden in Glasnevin when Ellen Parikka walked out and asked “Do you know who Tim Russert is?” I told her he was a big journalist in the US. “He’s dead,” she responded.

The host of NBC’s Meet the Press, a show which thanks to iTunes I could continue to watch after NTL replaced CNBC with Living, Russert was one of the few newsmen left that didn’t bring an agenda into affairs. On my many trips to the US in the past two years I always looked forward to being able to watch Russert in action at the time of the day suited to such Sunday morning fare.

This was a man that loved his job and loved doing it well. Be a guest Republican or Democrat, Russert would interview them in a manner that was by no means badgering but was effective at getting the requisite information and trapping spoofers. He’d give the subject enough rope to hand themselves before striking with a question rooted in research of previous comments made by the guest, often in a previous appearance on Meet the Press.

Personalities rarely get remembered in journalism, only the few immortalised in cinema like Woodward and Bernstein tend to get remembered after their prime. The public’s memory of Russert will likely fade in a short few years but for one Dublin-based freelancer, his ethics and method will live on.

Ar dheis Dé go raibh a anam

Sorry this column is two days late. My limited broadband access at present is making it difficult to post on time.

The Sunday column - Dual Masters

I introduce a young gentleman from Tallaght to the concept of pain

In journalism it's relatively easy to fiddle with an article from the Irish Times so that it is suitable for the Irish Independent. Editing that same article for the Sun or Star however is another matter entirely. The differences in styles mean the odds are a writer would be better off starting again from scratch rather than trying to adjust the existing piece.

The same is true with training. Preparing for orienteering, my training partner John’s sport of choice, is not a million miles removed from getting ready for a road race. American Football on the other hand is a whole different kettle of fish.

Today I played for the DCU Saints beat the Dublin Rhinos 32-6 at Castleknock College. Go us. It was a good old fashioned physical affair, as linemen like myself attempted to knock seven shades of…this is a family column…out of each other.

Like marathon running the gridiron is physically demanding but in a rather different way.

There’s the obvious differences, such as road racing general not involving men wearing helmets and pads and then getting rather violent, but then there’s other stuff that wouldn’t immediately jump out at the casual observer.

The type of physical exertion, both in training and game-play, couldn’t be less similar to marathon preparations. The gridiron demands a player can go for short, rapid-fire burst over and over again for around three hours.

You go, you stop, you go again and you keep on doing this until either you or your foe yields. That is it. Instead of the continuous steady pace a runner seeks to achieve, an American Footballer must be able to constantly shift gears and go from nought to sixty in an instant.

An offensive lineman like myself hits three ways: hard, fast and repeatedly. Despite the differences there are some benefits in playing this sport whilst getting ready for a big race.

The stamina I have developed from playing American Football over the past three years has certainly offset some of the problems associated with my general lack of fitness.

In the last two marathons that drive, that ability to grind it out, has helped me get to the finish line in one piece. This year it should hopefully keep me in enough condition to train hard once the season formally ends.

Once that comes around it’s off with the pads and on with the runners. A different kind of challenge awaits.