Being a lad, obviously we don’t get the walk of shame. On the way home having scored in any sense passing traffic mentally fist bumping other lads like someone who has successfully summit-ed Everest and defeated a horde of pillaging bandits. Girls However do not get the same treatment. And that’s a blog for another day.
The walk of shame walking down Kildare Rd in Crumlin. Home of McGregor, begging Taxis to pick me up. The third finally did. And all he wanted to talk about was Dublin beating Mayo in September. This is not what I had planned. You see I have been planning this day a long time. Even down to what I was going to blog after successfully going sub 3.
Everything was done perfectly, I even got a free coffee in Jury’s Christchurch on the morning of the race. Warmed up calf felt nice and loose. Felt slim, haven eaten well (starved) like many mesomorphs like me understand. I was pumped.
And within 10 minutes the wheels started coming off, a once loose calf with groovy kinesiology tape starts to say hello. A week off training, and mental effects of having a problem, denying a problem, convincing oneself that the problem does not exist take hold. And that was it, game over. 3kms in of a marathon.
The only fluidity was of a constant wave of people passing, 4;04 pace went to 4:30,4:45,5:00. The support actually becomes aggravating, claustrophobic and frustrating. I thought of throwing in the towel in the Phoenix park but really wanted that medal. I tried to focus on the positives , think of my babies anything. But nothing can solve physicality.
Having gone past the half way point I knew that continuing on an injured calf bordered on the ridiculous and it was time to park the ego. By the time I got back to the bag drop off area the 2:30 racers were in. Depression. People were clapping me for going 2:30. jaysis please stop. I put my hoodie up, shades on for fear anyone I knew from home would see me. At this stage I must have felt things were not bad enough so I went to McDonalds for a Big Mac meal. Suppose do it right or don’t do it at all.
I checked my phone and saw one of my buddies taking photos of himself during the marathon. Having fun. And being happy. His happiness tipped me over the edge! I went back to my hotel packed my stuff (minus my charger of course) and hit the road west.
12 hours after I had awoken buzzing, I was in the local supping pints of Smithwicks listening to auld fellas jibing each other about being bald, grey, nearly bald or in fact a silver fox.
It can’t be all sunshine and lolly pops, I am already looking at accommodation for Dublin 2017. Where I will go sub 3 and make up for the walk of shame.
A massive well done for all who completed the marathon yesterday, my own crew who I am super proud of, all the local clubs – Liquid Motion, Ballina AC, Moy Valley AC and stand out performer Mattie Coleman.