The Dublin Marathon!

Where to even begin!!

We got to Ireland at about 8am after an overnight flight.  I couldn't sleep at all on the flight but multiple people told me that the best thing would be to do everything i could to stay awake all day so that i could get a good nights sleep.  We couldn't check into the hotel until 3, so we decided to leave our bags and head to the race expo!  A local told us it wasn't far and we could just walk it.  So we did.

It wasn't far, i suppose in the grand scheme of things but it was about 3 miles.  Probably not the best pre-race prep.  We walked it, and then walked around the expo for a bit.  It wasn't nearly massive as Chicago, but it was a fair size!

We started to walk back, and i began to become very lightheaded from not eating or drinking anything. We ended up stopping at a pub and convincing them to make me a grilled cheese sandwich.  When we got up to leave, both my calves started intensely hurting.  Maybe from the flight, maybe from the lack of water, who knows.  We still had 2 hours to kill before we could go to the hotel, so we checked out some museums.  When we finally checked in, i was so miserable i had to sleep at least a little bit, so i took an hour nap.  After regrouping, i forced everyone to wake up (no easy task) so that we could get some dinner, and go to the musical pub crawl!  (Thanks for the reco, Cary!!)  Being sleep deprived and hungry made me very cranky with everyone around me.  I ended up getting some delicious seafood soup (something i would have a lot of the whole trip!)  and ate probably half a loaf of brown bread.  I sampled my first overseas guinness, and then it was time for music!

Walking around Dublin and listening to trad music was a great way to spend our first night!

The next morning i woke up, got out of bed, and immediately fell to the ground.  Both my calves were in knots, and it was too painful to even walk.  Obviously, a marathon was not in my future.  Matt and i tried to massage the knots out, but it hurt so bad, and i just got upset.  We ended up going to pick up the car so that we could drive around, and not ruin everyone else's day.  We decided to drive up to New Grange - an ancient pagan grave site just north of Dublin.  On the way, we stopped and bought gatorade and an entire bunch of bananas.  I spent the whole car ride hydrating and eating an inhuman amount of bananas in a desperate attempt to make my legs work again.  New Grange was beautiful, and luckily involved very little limping around, as a bus drives you to the site. 

After that, i had gotten us tickets to a Bram Stoker street performance at Dublin Castle.  I have never seen anything like it before, but it was breathtaking.  I don't even know how to describe it other than "spooky"

We got a nightcap, and then headed back to the hotel.  It's important to mention that the hotel i booked happened to be right next a night club.  And since Monday was a bank holiday, that baby was pumping until about 5am.  Who needs sleep, right?

And then came race day.

I woke up, and my calves still hurt, but i could at least walk around.  Matt and i debated if i should even do the race, but in the end decided that i paid for it, i would be a great tour of Dublin, and the 8 hour time limit was more than accommodating.  I decided to just go and try to enjoy the sights.  Our hotel was less than a half mile from the start (which was at 9am anyway!) so i had plenty of time.  We casually walked over with some other people staying in the same hotel, all of which were complaining about the night club.  

I said goodbye to Matt (my family chose to sleep in) and entered my section.  With 14,000 runners, I think this is a perfect sized race.  It was big and exciting, but my anxiety was in check.  I never felt crowded, and actually fed off the energy.  It didn't hurt that the weather was perfect - about 50 degrees and drizzly.  Matt tried to catch me as I started, but i was obviously moving too fast to be photographed.  He did catch the elites though!

Right behind ya, boys!

One weird thing about this marathon was the male to female ratio.  I feel like in the US, it's about 50/50.  Maybe even more women sometimes.  Not here.  More like 90/10.  It was a little lonely as a female.  A bit intimidating too as everyone around me shot out fast, and i just trucked along keeping my calf in check.  I think every runner may have passed me in the first mile, some of them i think passed me twice (?!?!?!)

Miles 1-3:  Just warming up.  My calves hurt, but i was able to shuffle along.  There were crowds and the time passed very quickly.

Miles 4-7: We enter Phoenix Park, and pass the zoo.  The pain disappears (or i just don't notice it)  The crowds are sparse, and i am happy.  All the men around me start snot-rocketing, and i am overjoyed.  I snot-rocket as well, and feel like i fit in.

Miles 8-12:  Apparently 4-7 were uphill?  I had no idea.  Mile 8 is downhill, and i clock an 8:30 mile?? Holy crap.  I slow myself down, but am feeling great.  Then i meet heartbreak hill #1 at mile 9.  I am sure to some people it wasn't a big deal, but it was about the same size as the hill in fort 2 base, for a point of reference, only maybe a little longer because of the winding road.

Miles 13-16: Kind of boring and uneventful, but i am pain free.  I find a pack of 3 women running, and tuck in behind them.  Then another girl tucks in next to me.  And another.  We had a pack of 8 at one point, and every one started shouting "go ladies!!"


**I just realized i skipped 17.  Obviously not a memorable mile.

Miles 18-21: Heartbreak hills 2 and 3.  Two was at 18, (i think) and wasn't terrible, but the one at mile 21 was very steep, and i wanted to scream at everyone.  That was just too much suck for mile 21.  I passed a dead red fox on the side of the road at mile 19.  A sure omen of what was to come.

Miles 22-24: All downhill!  It was a nice break from the hills.  I started to wonder where my family would be....

Miles 25 and 26:  I am tired.  I am cranky.  But i am on pace to run a 4:10 marathon, so i freaking deal with it, and then it happens.  Someone shoots me in the calf.  Okay, no one shot me.  But it felt like it.  The calf just seized up and i couldn't move.  I actually thought i tore something.  I limped to the side, and everyone is yelling at me to keep moving and i don't care.  Everything got blurry and i felt that familiar fainting feeling and by god i did not want to collapse at yet another marathon.  A nice woman came over to me and put her arm on my shoulder and said "not here.  You are so close - just move forward."  So i did.  Slowly.  I limped.  Then i shuffled.  Then everything got blurry and i limped again.  There was a man next to me whose knee had gone out, so we both shuffled along together.  My family was no where to be seen.  I just kept telling myself that there were no more races this year.  

Mile .2:  Finally, we hit the last stretch of 200 meters, covered with green carpeting, and i cranked it up to a blazing 11 minute mile limp.  Damn, i'm good.  I got to the finish line, and i couldn't cross it, because there was a pile of people.  Seriously.  Everyone was collapsing at the finish line.  And what amazed me was that rather than barrel through to shave a few seconds off their time, those that were finishing in a better condition were stopping to help them, pick them up, walk them to waiting med tents.  It just amazed me that so many people ran so hard that they literally collapsed on the finish line (although to be honest, i thought about just laying down right there.  I really did) But it amazed me more that anyone who was still upright went out of their way to help them.  I have heard so many stories about races here where people are pummeled, pushed, tripped, and knocked over in the final stretch by someone trying to shave 3 seconds off their time.  Not the case here. Its not really about your time.  Sadly, i was unable to pick up anyone.  I actually made it 3 feet over the finish line and had to just lay there a minute and try to make the world stop spinning.  It did, and i eventually went to get my t-shirt and medal.

The one downside about this race, and i knew this going into it, is that they only order a set number of t-shirts in each size, and they are unisex, and obviously, the small's are the first to go.  My only mission was to get a size small t-shirt, and by god, i got one of the last ones.  I ran a 4:18 marathon, and only barely got a shirt in my size.  People there are fast.  Real fast.  

I never saw Matt or my family.  They were expecting me to run much slower because of my calves, and had missed my finish.  Matt got some pics of later finishers though:

They ran the whole race with their legs tied together...

The worst part about missing my family?  They had all my clothes and money.  I had to limp back to the hotel alone in a soaking wet tank top in the freezing cold.  It was horrible.  I begged the hotel to make me another key to our room, and i looked so pathetic that they obliged.  I took this finisher photo of myself.

I laid in the hot shower for 30 minutes trying to warm up, and then curled up in bed with tea until they all got back.  We ended up eventually going to o'donoghue's for some victory pints!

I had two and half pints and was drunk as a skunk.  The best part was that we weren't alone.  There was a table of marathoners that had been there for over six hours, drinking, and still in their race clothes!  

I have a lot of work to do!

I loved this race.  Despite its difficulty, it was so fun, and the people are SO friendly.  I would recommend it to anyone, and one day - i will run it again.  I can see why people run this year after year.  I will think twice though, before making an international race my goal race.  I don't travel much, and the jet lag hit me hard, as well as muscle cramping and dehydration from the plane and lack of sleep.  Maybe people who travel alot get used to it though.  Either way, i regret nothing, and i feel like i ran a great race, had a great time, and did not embarrass America.

Next up - Cork, Dingle, and the ring of Kerry!