Introduction

The Dublin Half Marathon in Newbridge Demense on September 23rd 2017 was a roller coaster from start to finish. The Half Marathon will more than likely never be run on this course again. Me and Julie have made a note to keep the medal because it is likely to be an exclusive limited edition in a few years. Organisationally the Half Marathon simply didn't work out. It was a bad idea to try and bring 9,000+ people to a part of Dublin that didn't have enough capacity in terms of transport infrastructure to hold even half that figure.  Later the water stations and the lucozade sport station disappeared or never appeared. The organisers got it wrong. They admitted it frankly. We still dug down and finished the race. How did we do that when so much went wrong?

The Battle

To articulate the battle as me and Julie experienced it I am going to start this story on Wednesday September 20th. I had been excited all week about my up and coming PB attempt. My training was going well I was completing Tempo Runs for fun and nailing 4:20/km consistently. Julie was on a recovery week and reviewing what she had learned from the Frank Duffy 10 Mile with regard to pacing. That evening I came down with a cold. I knew what I had to do..... stop training and hope it lifted by Saturday.  This was very hard for me to take. I had been building up to this PB for 9 months and now with 2 days left to the start line a minor illness looked like it might scupper my attempt. I can take missing a PB attempt but I prefer miss it by running the race in full health. I felt that the universe was toying with me allowing me some great training sessions but then pulling the rug out from under me at the last second just as my hard earned conditioning was about to pay off. The frustration had begun. 

Roll forward to Friday and I was still taking cold and flu medicine. I didn't feel anywhere close to 100%. I was anxious now. 'Will I even be able to run?' The rang in the back of my head getting louder as the hours ticked by. I scolded myself 'you have to run you can't let the Irish Guide Dogs and the people who sponsored you down'. I resolved that if I needed too I would jog the race at a light pace. Other thoughts popped up in my head every few minutes as well. 'Give it a good lash the course is largely level, straight and with 8-10 major turns you should be able to stay in a good rhythm. You can't force the issue with the shape you're in'. I don't encourage anyone to try and still pull off a PB post an illness however minor it may be. In my case physiologically my body would still be cleaning the virus out by Saturday and that would give my performance a dent in theory. Later that day we spent an hour and a half trying to get out of Cork City. There was a collision just outside Mahon point and all we could do was wait until it was cleared. We had been feeling the week work wise. It had been one of those awful weeks where only a few things went right. We were looking forward to getting out of Cork and getting into a change of scenery even if it was for 24 hours. Also Julie was starting to feel a little under the weather. We thought based on experience once we got to Dublin we would have little to worry about. We prepared diligently as we always do got to bed early in Dublin ready although barely to face our next challenge.

I had a rough nights sleep. I kept getting chills and then heating up like a roaring fire. I had a cold yes but before any PB attempt I have never sleep well. This strange combination of how excited I am to race and how I prefer to have a little anger bubbling beneath the surface to help me push myself during the race has always been there. When I haven't had a great nights sleep my temper is never far away. When I race I happily unload some strife and anger. It is annoying but from studying higher level athletes during their finest hours often times things don't go well for them and they win anyway. At 6:30 am my alarm went off, I rolled over and I felt good. I showered and changed and focused on giving this race a good hard effort. The Mayhem was about to start.  

We came down for breakfast at 7:30 am. Nothing was available. The cook hadn't started anything and suggested we go back to our room for 10 mins. We knew that we needed time on our side. We quickly asked about the cereal and toast. The cook obliged. We got a free breakfast. This day really started well. We didn't want or need an Irish Breakfast and now we had running food handed to us free. At 7:50 am we were in car heading for Newbridge Demense. At 8:00 am we were stuck on the M1 slowly crawling to the race venue. At 8:15 we knew something was up. We hadn't moved much and like all millennials when we want information on an event we go to Twitter. Some of the twitter reaction was comedy gold.

Unfortunately other unsettling truths were also revealed. We were 4 km away from the race venue @ 8:15 am. The race was due to start at 9.30 am. We were getting a little nervous here. Not being from Dublin or very familiar with North County Dublin we didn't know where else we might park the car and then jog to the start.  Was that even possible? Where? We didn't know. Now was probably not the greatest time to go and find out but we appeared not to have a choice.

We kept moving slowly. I was incredibly anxious although I didn't show it. I couldn't let my composure slip. As part of my mental training for this PB attempt I prepared myself for the possibility that things might go wrong. I had worked myself into a mind set that if I had to beat the traffic, organisational chaos, bad weather and illness.... I WILL !!! Other thoughts kept me going too 'I can't let the Guide Dogs down' I had made a commitment and I was going to do everything in my power to stick too it. I considered that I would be late for the start and I'll make the third wave and go with that wave if I have too. In my head going home was not an option.

We were some of the lucky ones. We got into the second car park at Newbridge Demense for 9 am. We were amazed. By now we knew that the race was delayed until 10 am and that a lot of runners were abandoning their cars and running to the venue or worse they had turned back and decided to run else where. I felt sorry for them. Some of them were running for causes like my own. They would have to face their cause and concede that they had let people down even if it it wasn't their fault. The thought of this for me was agonising. Living it must have been hell.

The Race

The atmosphere inside Newbridge Demense was fraught with fear. I could feel the uncertainty. The Runners in Newbridge were wondering if they would get news that the race was going to be called off. It was a real fear. The chaos outside was real and if emergency services couldn't access the event then the organisers might not have had a choice. Thankfully we were informed on the PA system that the race would start at 10 am. I thought the worst was behind us. I went for it. Despite the strife I still felt good. I was in the mood even if I had a headache and some sniffles. For 18.5 km I held firm. I stayed between 4:25-4:35. I lost a few seconds on the hills but I recovered them once the course sloped down. The course was lovely. The support was electrifying. I had to work hard yes but that's what I was supposed to do. At 18.5 km suddenly I felt dizzy.

I was struggling to stay steady. I have scared myself a few times in the course of road running. This was different. I was losing control of my balance and my mind was incoherent jumping from vague thought to fuzzy vision. It's normally one or the other or both one after the other that scares me. Loss of balance is just fatigue and concentrating hard helps restore it for me. The fuzzy vague thoughts are usually a lack of glucose and a gel relieves that pretty quickly. I was so close to a PB. It was tempting to force the issue. I had one more gel in my pocket. Maybe the sugar would settle me. I didn't take it. Finally, a sane thought took over and I slowed down and finished the race. I have hit the wall before and this wasn't the wall. I still had a fever and now my body was overheating. This brings me nicely onto my next point. Neither myself or Julie spotted a water station after mile 6 at this race. The residents of Lusk were handing glasses of water at some point or so I heard. I can put up with a lot of madness at these events and at this one I felt that I had been civil despite the nonsense but a lack of water stations is where I draw the line. There is no excuse for not having this organised. If the water stations fail call off the race for the safety of every runner. They might hate you for a while but they will forget it. They won't forget the lack of water stations and the poor person who falls hits their head and has their lives ruined by a preventable problem. Also the Lucozade sport station at Mile 11 was on the map but I completely missed it and I was looking hard. I really needed it at the time.  

I crossed the line in 1:37:39 3 minutes off my personal best. I was delighted to finish. Especially towards the back end of the race I was terrified that I would fall and then be taken off the course by the medics. I had come so far and raised so much money that I couldn't bear the thought of letting all those people down. 

Conclusion

Nothing went right on the day. I kept my cool and tore down the road as fast as I could but I came unstuck with 2 miles to go. I gave it everything it didn't work this time. There will be another day. I'm starting to feel I'm due for a streak of PBs. I have been doing the right things and my training is pointing at a PB. I know I have it in me to do better. I need to be patient for now.

Looking back on the Half Marathon in Newbridge Demense I can honestly say the problems we faced were all first world problems. I laughed most of them off at the time but I was astounded to look back and see what happened with the water and Lucozade sport stations. That was reckless organisation and deeply concerning. Every athlete depends on the feeding stations to help them race safely and effectively. Next year the organisation must be better. Scratch that the Dublin Marathon is the next opportunity to be better. I suggest the organisers grasp the opportunity without hesitation.