SSE Airtricity Dublin Marathon

Six harriers made the trip over the Irish Sea last weekend for the 37^th running of the Dublin marathon. It was my first time in Ireland so an inaugural Irish Guinness was eagerly anticipated. We (Ruth, Jim, his daughter Emma and myself) were up at an ungodly hour the day before the race to catch the slightly cheaper early flight from Edinburgh – it was to be the only cheap item of the entire weekend as Dublin is expensive, even according to most Irish folk we spoke to!

We had dreamed up the idea one sunny Sunday afternoon in May, sitting on the grass in Jim’s front garden after an easy long run just soaking up some rays and drinking chilled lemonade while making autumn racing plans. The idea of finally getting to run the Irish capital’s premier race strongly appealed to me as it’s a box I’ve wanted to tick for well over twenty years but, as Jim said the day after the race, if we had known what the bill would come to our plans would have swiftly changed!

A slight breakdown in communication between Jim and his other half Majella meant they had no-one to look after young Emma so Jim decided to take her with him and arranged for his sister-in-law to travel up to Dublin to keep an eye on her during the race. In the end two sister-in-laws turned up and she had a grand day.

David Herbertson had come along to the club last Thursday night to exchange phone numbers but it soon became apparent we had exchanged something else as by Friday morning I had a sore throat and was coughing and spluttering. Ian had caught it too so by Saturday morning fifty percent of the team were under the weather. Paracetamol, ibuprofen, lemsip, vicks vapour rub, sinex spray, throat lozenges etc. were safely brought/smuggled through Glasgow airport security.  

Arriving in Dublin around lunchtime the four of us proceeded to the RDS arena for the Expo, collected our numbers, took some photographs and toured the various sponsors’ stands.

Ultra tee-shirts to the fore

Exiting the RDS Jim confidently turned left and we followed him all the way onto Landsdowne Road almost to the Aviva Stadium before Ruth and I started wondering aloud about the direction his leadership was taking us.

I'm getting a thirst just looking at this

We were to be staying at the Clayton Hotel which, the last time Jim was in Dublin, was indeed in this direction. Unbeknown to him the company had since taken over a bankrupt chain of five other Dublin hotels, renaming them all with the Clayton brand. Needless to say ours, the Ballsbridge one, was less than half a mile away from the RDS if we had turned right! Jim won’t be allowed to forget that one anytime soon! An unplanned three mile walk, with cases, was not the best preparation for a marathon but, having finally checked in, we found the nearest pub for some food and repaired some of the damage with a long-awaited Guinness – it went down excellently. It seemed slightly creamier than over here and I liked the way the head clung to the inside of the glass on the way down.

It was then back to the hotel for a lie down and out again for pasta followed by some decidedly unhealthy but very enjoyable puddings…

Eton mess!

We also saw an inspiring omen, a contrail saltire in the evening sky above the city – a good sign surely for the Scots running the following day.

We made our way the two miles or so to the start area on a bright, clear and surprisingly warm morning. Instead of the normal bank holiday Monday the race was being held on Sunday for the first time and this had resulted in a record entry of some 19,500, including an impressive 5,700 from outwith Ireland. It made me wonder about the financial benefits Glasgow could gain were we to do something similar, our half marathon is good but it’s the full 26.2 that brings running tourists from around the world. Sadly it seemed as though all 19,500 were trying to get to the baggage area at the same time so we quickly gave up any hope of meeting up with the others for a pre-race photograph.

Joe, David and Ian at the baggage area

My only criticism of the race organisation would be the provision of toilets in the third wave start area, I won’t go into detail but after queueing for 45 minutes I ended up almost fighting for a cubicle and eventually started with the fourth wave  at 09:30, the last group heading off. No real problem as the race was using chip timing but mildly annoying all the same.

By the four-mile mark it became obvious that my initial aim of breaking four hours was a pipedream as I was already nearly four minutes over schedule. I eased back at this point, decided to ignore my watch and run on feel alone (given that I wasn’t feeling very well anyway it was probably a wise decision).

If I’m totally honest the race wasn’t a wonderful experience for me as it seemed to pass in a slightly surreal, detached manner (as did most of the weekend) most likely caused by the painkillers and other potions I was consuming. This was a great shame as, even in my slightly dazed state, I was still aware of the lovely weather, great route and the craic from my fellow runners and the fantastic crowds.

At eighteen miles, unnoticed by me, someone ran on to the road and injected concrete into my quads. Joe told me later he also cramped up around here and was forced to walk and stretch his way to the finish. I’m guessing the miles I have in my legs already this year helped me through and I avoided having to walk much, not even at Dublin’s own version of Heartbreak Hill around twenty two miles in.

I ran alongside three female Irish club runners for many miles in the early part of the race but had been left behind as they upped the pace and I started to struggle. I was surprised to see them all surge past me on the last left-hand bend with just over two miles to go - when had I caught and passed them? Never mind, they looked like they were running well and would provide me with a good pace to follow so I made an effort to stay with them. I may well have finished over the 4.30 mark were it not for the imaginary competition as they were moving considerably faster than I had been. Finally sprinting (!) for the line I was most distressed to find I was racing towards some race paraphenalia which had been placed over a traffic island – the finish was at least another 150 yards away! Argggggh! Much gritting of teeth later I dragged myself over the finish line in 4.23.29, only 23 seconds slower than my recent Clyde marathon result. Watching an online video later of Jim finishing I was very glad they didn’t film me as I recall clearly crossing the line with the words ‘thank duck’ (in case you’re wondering – no, I didn’t say duck).  

I was surprised to learn over the course of the weekend that half the harriers, David, Ian and Joe, were running their first-ever marathons. Bearing that in mind and that he was also running with a cold, David Herbertson’s time of 3.34.37 was very creditable – although if he wants to beat it he’ll have to get used to running in slightly warmer conditions (unless you’re coming back to the northern hemisphere for Dublin again next year David?)

Another marathon virgin and also loaded with the cold was Ian McKenzie. He may have missed breaking the four hour mark but, in finishing in 4.06.30, has given himself an excellent marker for the future – when’s the next one Ian? The benefit of consistent club training is very evident in Ian’s improved running of late, keep it going pal and a sub-4 is yours for the taking.

Did they really just run a marathon? Looking fresh as daisies!

Ruth has hardly trained at all in recent months due to work and musical commitments and although feeling good and cruising to the half way point wasn’t really surprised when her calves tightened to the extent that she also had to walk/run her way home. She came home in 5.11.58 having enjoyed the craic with the punters and runners alike (with her name emblazoned on her club vest in London last year she had heard the crowd shouting ‘go on Roof’ while here in Dublin it was ‘keep going Root’!

Excellent running encouragement, Irish style. 

As coach noted on the blog soon after the race Ruth’s surname does cause problems when searching the results as there are pages and pages of Kellys. There were actually two Ruth Kellys on the start list although it must be noted only one finished - one Ruth Kelly, there’s only one Ruth Kelly, one Ruth Kellyyyy, there's only…

Incidentally the best sign of the day for me was simply “down with this sort of thing”, which if you haven’t watched Father Ted won’t mean a thing to you but had me chuckling.

This was Jim’s twenty sixth marathon, being by far the most experienced of us all, and I believe his seventh time around the Dublin course. Needless to say he didn’t get lost nor did he develop any cramps along the way coming home in an excellent 3.38.11, exclaimimg later that if he’d only known how close he was to big Davie he would have tried harder! That’s only nine minutes or so outside his best.

Joey's medal featuring the General Post Office on O'Connell Street, marking this year's centenary of the Easter Rising

Dave Mansfield ran 2.27 beating the previous, two-decades old, record for the fastest marathon by a serving member of the Garda – sending a clear message not to bother running away from the police in Ireland!

Many runners were in fancy dress but for me the star of the race was a 70 year old Frenchman carrying a fifteen foot high replica of the Eiffel Tower, a seriously impressive feat.

All in all a hugely enjoyable event and weekend in good company, if a tad expensive - did I mention Dublin is pricey?

Photos are courtesy of Jim Mearns, David Herbertson, Joseph Shields and the Dublin marathon itself.

Postscript; Jim has, predictably, gone down with a cold too and mine has developed further which is why neither of us has been at the club this week. Ruth's poor excuse is that she's on the other side of the world! I'm gradually getting better today (Friday) and hope to make the start line for my sixth (ever-present) Southside Six on Sunday (try saying that with your teeth out!)