Death by Dermot Week 4


Nope that’s what it was called…Mental.

Now let’s face it, many of the MAC crew are already aware that this is an underlying attribute that they have grown and nurtured within themselves. So to take on this session we were all shitting ourselves. 

Dermots usual break down of the plan for the session was pretty vague. As in we are going to run on the whistle and after that just do what he says.

The fear I get with Tollymore is that there is so many options for what a training session could be. So basically being told to run results in 20million possibilities.

After such a nice run on Tuesday post rest, pain quickly found me at this session. A great warm up from Hugh to kick start the session was enjoyable and we headed to the entrance straight which was roughly a 1km long to the gate, all tarmaced. 

Split up into 4 speed appropriate groups  we set off on the whistle as requested. We were meant to be running at uncomfortable pace however we were still able to talk back in our group. Between Norah, Maria, Kate, Eileen, Caitriona and myself there was running happening but just as much talking. However there’s no flies on Dermot and it wasn’t long before we were being escorted down the road to ensure we kept our mouths shut and went a bit quicker, funny that. 

Yet there was this nasty pull in my thigh. I sat a rep out and gave it a good rub. There was no way I was going to pull out again this week on when I’d such a great run 2 days previous. It was all in the head  (and partially in my leg). I was capable of the session and was curious what the final challange was which Dermot remained tight lipped about. Then the chasers became the chased. Yeah it was like a hare trying to catch the tortoise, it wasn’t long before I was flanked by the other groups and even Michael McKenna flew past and I didn’t even notice until we turned round and the bright luminous man with the long legs was nowhere to be seen.

The the big reveal happened. We all lined up, slowest to fastest and told that it was a time trial. That phrase alone gives you the hebbies. How far did we have to go? Well let’s just say no one knew…as far as the orange cone which none of us knew where it was. 

So off we went and we kept going and going, the next fastest group had caught up and so forth. Soon we were to see the leaders turning and that marked “the cone” at half a mile. So we’d to run just a mile. 

The first half mile was nice as it was relatively downhill however we had to go back on ourselves and when I was averaging a 8.30 min/mile I knew I had went too hard and was no way in hell I was going to be able to keep it going up hill back to the start. 

I kept picking points and saying I’d get there and then reevaluate.  I’d Caitriona beside me at all times so that was encouraging as well as being able to see others out in front. I do laugh at myself doing things like this as only 2 weeks ago I ran 17 mile, and I’ve to find a Half marathon on Saturday. A mile should be no bother, right?

As we came into the last 300m I found a nice pace and began to stretch it out a bit. So seems after having the “jesus I can do 17 mile” thought, it kicked in my reserves and all of a sudden I was running like I knew what I was actually doing. I’d my sights set on Eileen and Norah in front and when I came up behind them I knew I’d the final push to keep going and I did.

I know it was only a mile but I nailed the finish. Not a surprising trait, those who know me will know I empty the tank at the end of every race. Whilst people where commending my finish, Caitriona rolled her eyes as if “yeah she done it again” 😂

That finally was the last of the running. A nice wee cool down full of laughs and underhanded inappropriate comments from the usual suspects and we were off home.

So that’s the end of session 4, so only 1 more left. I’m actually quite sad at the prospect of regaining my Thursday night. 

So next is the MAC on tour trip to the North Coast. Last race before Dublin. Boke.



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