The run went so much better than I thought it would. I was so prepared for the worst. I was prepared for diabetes meltdowns, lost toenails, misery, chaffing, blah blah blah...and none of that happened (ok, some chaffing on the girlie bits and a serious blister on my right middle toe, but whatevs). I hadn't run further than 13 miles before this, and to be honest, I'd kinda been slacking off for the two weeks ahead of this. So I went into it with a lot of trepidation.

I decided to take the first 8 or 9k really easy, and just warm up. Hell, I had 26 miles to run, I figured I had plenty of time. Tried to run slow, let my muscles work themselves warm. Only one problem...I seriously had to PEE! The queues at the start had been massive, so I thought, "nae bother, just go on the course". Well, that philosophy works a HELL of a lot better when you're a lad and the world is your urinal. Turns out the nearest toilet was at the 10k mark! Yikes! I was sloshing a bit by then. Dipped in and did my thing, got out and felt about 10 lbs lighter.

When we got to the Falls Road, I was feeling fantastic. I was really expecting to be really huffing and puffing, but my HR was still normal, and constant. I had an easy stride and seemed to be doing ok taking in liquids. I was taking gels about every 45 minutes (mmm apple cinnamon hammer gel= tastes like apple pie filling!), and drinking a cup at every water station. I had a bottle of water in my bum bag, and was planning on taking a Nuun tab at mile 13.

Finally Mile 13 came as we were up on Cavehill. Took the nuun. Now we were getting into the unknown. I decided to just listen to my body and see how it was going. But it seemed to be saying, "Yeah boss, we're fine!" so I kept going, just constantly taking the same steps. I had basically bathed myself in Compeed in the morning, so no chaffing issues that were readily apparent, although the St John's Ambulance guys were standing out their with handfulls of vaseline (cheers guys!).

Miles 14-16 were uneventful, mostly residential and downhill. No big deal. It was still really overcast, but not rainy, when we got to the lough side bike path. It was eerie because you couldn't see the other side or the city. so I put my head down and kept going. Saw the mile 18 marker and got really really happy. I was still feeling pretty giddy and solid at this point, and was starting to think that I might finish this much better than I had anticipated.

Then we got to mile 19-20...and I was starting to feel it. We came off the bike path and into an industrial estate, where there was supposed to be a powerade station, and there wasn't one! Aiee! I needed sugar and salt at this point and time. The road ahead was strewn with nearly full Powerade bottles. I saw a runner next to me bend down and pick one up...and I thought, "waste not, want not!" and got one for myself. Chugged it and felt instantly better. Deviated from my fueling strategy and took an early gel.

Mile 21 made me feel hopeful. Mile 22 was the "it" mile. I was still waiting for "the wall", and when I passed mile 22 still feeling good and running consistently, I thought I'd been through the worst. We were now onto the Lagan path, and the sun was out. Got to mile 23, and the St John's guys were out with signs and vaseline (cheers again mates!), and I was on my old running path...felt nice to be on familiar ground. But I was starting to hurt, and it was made worse by the fact that we could SEE the finish on the other side of the river!

So we turned and crossed the bridge, took a wee detour into the park (you tease!), and then headed out along the road to perimeter the park. But man, it was SUNNY and HOT and lots of people were out drinking and yelling which was nice but a bit intense at that point. Mile 24 was good, but I was starting to really really hurt. I was beginning to just feel weak mentally, just tired and sore, but I kept moving because I knew my legs would lock up if I stopped.

About mile 25, a relay runner named Wendy came up to me and asked me to pace with her into the finish because we had been leapfrogging for the last 3 miles. It was nice to have someone to pace with, I was really thankful for her company in that VERY LONG last mile.

I couldn't believe the finish. It was MOBBED still! 4.30+ hrs in! Cheers and names and medals and water...kept moving. I couldn't believe it. I had done it. Something I said I'd do back in 9th grade, I'd finally done it, even relatively successfully. Even a day later, it still hasn't sunk in completely.

-Train to distance
-be more careful with the blister block application (girlie bits)
-WEAR SUNSCREEN! EVEN IN IRELAND!

Went into the tennis courts to get my bag, had the St Johns guys watch me take my blood sugar, which was dead on (w00t!), drank my water, had a stretch, got my bag. Was going to get in the queue for a massage, but it was massive and all I wanted was to go home and have the longest hottest shower known to man. So I got on the shuttle and went back to Belfast. And then I went to the Spar and got some paracetemol and a Kinder Bueno. mmm.


Lack of training.
Fear of the diabetes.


With 15,000 runners, its amazing this went as well as it did. Its really a great way to showcase the city. I got to see parts that I'd not normally see because, well, I'm Catholic. But to run along the Peace Wall and up the Shankill and the Falls...but also to see the ocean and the river and the parks...it just shows what sort of contrasts exist and coexist in the place. I love this city, and it does my heart well to be back once a year at least, and it does my heart well to see it flourishing and vibrant.