How did it get to be that time of
year again? It seems like it was only yesterday that I was eagerly anticipating
the European cross country in Belgrade. Now, twelve months on, and the stabbing
cold and deep snow of a ski resort in Bulgaria awaits. Last year, I finished a
distant 26th, well behind the leaders and below the standard at
which I had hoped to compete. This year though, the dreaming of a medal has
returned.
Less than ten weeks ago I was
unable to jog never mind compete. I was
being destroyed in sessions and I was being dropped consistently in every rep.
But at the end of every session, as I was doubled over, coughing up my lungs,
there was my coach. ‘Good job. It’ll come. Be patient.’ I’m glad at least one
of us had faith. It is said that coaching a fit athlete is not difficult. It is
only whenever you encounter hurdles, be that injury or a poor performance that
the coaching really begins. Sometimes, it takes that voice in your ear just to
remind you that there is no need to panic. I’ve been fit before and, if I train
right, I’ll get fit again. And so, as jogs turned into runs, and runs into
sessions, it was only inevitable that at some stage I would again need to throw
my hat into the ring and race.
Before the Irish cross country
trials, I was strangely calm. The pre-race nerves that normally kick in were
nowhere to be found. I had convinced myself that I was still recovering from
injury. Getting to the startline itself was a big enough result. I had placed
no expectation on myself and neither had my coach. His instructions were to sit
in for as long as I could. I always find it somewhat cheeky sitting on other
runners. To me, winning a race, having kicked past someone who has been at the
front for 9.9k, makes the victory feel hollow. It is a style of racing that I have never
really enjoyed, although, as everyone knows, it normally produces the best
results. And so I sat. There were the usual early attacks by other runners but
the gap never grew large enough to get worried. And coming into the final lap,
when it was down to Mick Clohissey and Mark Hanrahan and myself, I still felt
confident. I had already far exceeded my expectations and, with the top three
guaranteed selection for the European Cross, I had bought myself a further
three weeks in which to get fitter. Having raced Mark and Mick several times
before, I knew that I was not strong enough to be able to pull away from them
both. So I sat and sat, and then sat a bit more. And thankfully, coming into
the final turn, I managed to get a few metres and hold on for an unexpected
win. After several months of various scans, injections and physio appointments,
broken only by sparse days of training, it was nice to finally race again. It
was even more enjoyable to win.
The day after the trials I flew
back to London, ready for some more hard training, in the build up to this
Sunday’s race. And for once, things have gone well. There has been no injury
pain and no days missed. With everyone I know having appeared to have simultaneously
contracted a cold, I have been overdosing on vitamin C and continuously wearing
a scarf. Thankfully, my paranoia must have worked so far, as I have not even
had a snuffle. I am so much stronger than what I was three weeks ago. My last
hard session was two days ago in Bushy Park. On a horrible, dark, wet and windy
evening, for once I had no company, no one to share the workload with. The plan
was for two miles in ten minutes. A generous ninety second break followed by
four one mile reps. The plan had been to hit 4.55, 4.42, 4.55, 4.38. I stood at
the end of the two miles in ten minutes, soaked to the skin and freezing.
Breaking a five minute mile seemed unlikely never mind under 4.40. The first
mile felt like I was going all out. It took all my energy to hit 4.55. This was
definitely a night for mental training, in addition to the physical benefits. Fifteen
minutes later, I stood exhausted but happy. The last three miles were 4.39,
4.37, 4.35. Not superfast times by any means but it was the confidence boost I
needed. I am fit, no doubt about it, I am definitely fit. I am starting to believe
that I am fit enough to win this Sunday, now it is all about having the correct
race. The European Cross Country is a notoriously hard race from gun to tape and
the snow creates a new challenge. But after missing Zurich and not being able
to run for weeks on end, there is no place I would rather be come Sunday.
Whatever happens, I know I fly back to London next week ready for Christmas,
which for others might mean partying. For me and my training group, Christmas,
however, means a different thing. It means it is time to start training hard
and running fast. The indoors are just around the corner.
The senior men’s race is at 11.58
Northern Irish time this Sunday and (as far as I know) is live on RTE and BBC
red button for anyone interested.
