Dublin Marathon Diary

Dear diary....

Sunday 29 October

Richard set the tone at Luton Airport. It may have been 8:15 am on a Sunday but that didn't stop him downing two pints of John Smiths before we even got on the flight. A nasty case of shin splints had reduced him to the status of hobbling wounded but having already paid in advance he decided to come along for the ride and watch the race through the bottom of a beer glass.

On arrival in Dublin we found our hotel room still occupied so there was no option but to dump the bags and look for Registration at Ballsbridge. Our advance guard of supporters - Bill, Paul and Brian - had already walked there and thought it wise to phone warning against the 3 mile hike and suggest the train as a better bet. As we set out for Connolly Station it had grown noticeably colder and was raining. Some thirty minutes later we spilled onto the platform at Sandymount and looked for a sign to guide us to Registration. Fat chance. Feeling slightly foolish we followed another group of runners also in search of their race numbers. One thing led to another and soon we were part of a crocodile of about thirty would-be marathon runners following two Americans who turned out to be hopelessly lost.

Can anyone tell me just what is the point of Registration? When we finally found the venue we were confronted with a large queue that snaked back as far as the eye could see. After 15 minutes of patiently shuffling forwards we found ourselves at the check-out for the Adidas stand. The second queue we joined wasn't a queue but a temporary halt in traffic caused by the congestion. It was chaos - too many people in too little space with no good reason to be there. Richard was far from impressed and soon departed for the nearest Pub.

To cut a long story short, we found our man in the fourth bar we tried. Needless to say he had a rosy glow and was in fine spirits. We were cold and tired with aching feet.

Back in the City Centre our support crew were holed up in the bar of the Arlington Hotel next to the Liffey. Gary wanted to experience some live "diddly diddly" music so we settled down with a few Guinness Shandies and listened the band. Three hours later and the area around O'Connell Street is a hive of activity. The bars were doing a roaring trade and the fast food joints - staffed almost exclusively by Chinese students - were packed. But we weren't interested in junk food so ended up eating bowls of noodles in a Chinese Restaurant staffed by Irish waiters. Then it was back to the hotel and bed by 10:00 pm.

Richard broke down the door at 2:00 am returning from a nightclub. Otherwise it was an uneventful night.

Monday 30 October

Race Day!

We were up at 6:00 am but the hotel staff weren't. The kitchen was unlocked so we raided the fridge and made some toast and a cup of tea. Then it was back upstairs for finally preparations and out into the cold morning air. Cold morning air? This stuff was narrowly above freezing, moving horizontally and far too fast for my liking. I tried to raise our spirits by suggesting it could be worse - after all at least it wasn't raining...

The rain started along with the race at 08:30 am. At first it was no more than drizzle, but soon it was coming down by the bucketful.

Soft focus? No just rain on the camera lens.

Despite the conditions the atmosphere was good but the route was hardly inspiring. It started next to the Liffey, did a quick loop, crossed the river and splashed away from the city centre. We saw quite a few housing estates and small boys on big horses, but little else. To be honest it would have been just as scenic if we had run 26 miles through Hayes.

Wet, cold but not quite miserable.

Note the hand on the far right  - yes its got a sock on it!

A remarkable thing about the Dublin Marathon is the number of Americans that enter. I doubt they were in the majority, but the section we were running with was made up almost exclusively from the USA with a few Canadians thrown in for good measure. Another interesting fact is the amount of supplies they carry with them during the race. Bum bags stuffed with bottles, bars and sachets were everywhere to be seen. It was like taking part in a mobile picnic, all that was missing was the wicker basket and checked table cloth.

But our well provisioned Colonial Cousins were to have the last laugh. The promised Lucozade Sport drinks stations at 10.5 and 21 miles failed to materialise. This wasn't a case of running out, the supplier had simply pulled out at short notice. Needless to say Lucozade has since joined Reebok on my personal blacklist. I can't blame it all on a lack of isotonic, drink but just about where the second drink station should have been, I simply ran out of gas. The next 6 miles were purgatory but at least the rain eased a little. Okay so 4:14:52 and 2267 place wasn't good, in fact it was bloody awful, however I was 385th V40 which sounds infinitely better. Gary was about one minute and half a dozen vets ahead

Once the running was over the serious work began. Back to the Arlington for a few pints and a huge lunch. Never has Guinness tasted so good. Here were treated to yet more diddly diddly music, penny whistles, a passable Corrs soundalike band and a slightly more athletic than artistic tribute to River Dance. It gets a bit blurry about here but I do believe it was fun.

Guinness induced coma

Tuesday 31 October

Richard woke us at 6:00 am by breaking down the door and switching on the TV. The tale he had to tell simply cannot be repeated.

With a couple of hours to spare before the flight we thought we would take an open top bus to see the sights we failed to see on the marathon route. Richard thought better and found another pub...