10 Things I Think About The Munster Novice Cross Country
I think Clarecastle is a beautiful place, it’s like the Glanmire of Ennis. They have a big Centra and a river that looks like it floods a lot. There’s a pub called The Castle too. It’s very pretty. I’d still rather live in Glanmire though.
2. Yucky Mucky
I think I was the only one there today that was actually looking forward to the muck. It probably needed more rain to be honest. The muck was absolutely fantastic, utter misery, never the same pace, slow fast, slow fast, surging and searching for lines. It’s a different type of running. It’s like Formula 1 in the wet, a good driver in a rubbish car can suddenly be the fastest.
3. Badly Behaved Boy
I think that the more I try and not care about these races the better I run. Voodoo Rooms on a Friday night has to stop. I don’t even like it, it can’t be good for running. At least I went to Badly Drawn Boy beforehand to get some culture.
4. Performance Enhancing Spikes
I think I need to get a new pair of spikes. They really don’t last more than a year. It was a big mistake to stuff them with J-cloths last year and then leave them in the boot of the car for 12 months fermenting in a bag. I reckon the green mould that grew on the J-cloths is some sort of performance enhancing drug. I might try and isolate it in the lab.
5. Fang Club
I think it was a good idea to stay out of the mosh pit in Cypress Avenue the night before the race. It looked like great fun, a lot like the start of the race today, lots of pushing, pulling and dragging for no particular reason. Nothing like a bit of grunge to get you amped up before race. It’s good stuff.
6. War Paint
I think it was a bad idea to try and daub some local muck on my face before the race. I couldn’t wear my sunglasses so I decided on a bit of war paint just to try and intimidate the others at the start. I now understand why a mirror is very important when applying make-up as I just looked like baby who’d enjoyed a chocolate ice-cream on Ash Wednesday. I think I’ll stick to the sunglasses or actually use war paint.
7. West Cork Mafia
I think I was really worried after 200m of the race. Normally I’d be well clear but today I was back in about 15th after picking a bad line into the first corner. I quickly figured out where the dry line was in by the ditch and caught up to the early leader Denis Coughla. I knew Denis wouldn’t last more than 1500m, I was right.
8. Super Domestique
I think it was a pleasure to work in the service of Mark Wals today. I felt like a member of Team Sky working for Bradley Wiggins in the Tour De France, burying myself for my leader on the front and then pulling over on the final climb with 400m to go. I even shouted “Go Mark Go”. All I was short was a team radio with Donie shouting into my ear, “Dats grand now”. Some day I might be good enough to get my own domestique. I could be the next Chris Froome.
9. Height Matters
I don’t think I’ve ever been beaten by someone who was way taller than me. I’ve been beaten by fatter, smaller, shorter and wider but never way taller. That guy from Ennis Track must be 6’6. Logic would suggest that the muck would favour the short skinny stumpy runner but it seemed to be the big lumps like me that prospered today. I’ve no idea why. It makes no sense. Perhaps it’s because it was on in Clare, things are different up there.
10. Rocket Fuel
I don’t think I’ve ever beaten anyone in a sprint finish before. I’m normally utterly hopeless. I thought all my work today on the front was in vain as I’d dropped to fourth coming into the last 200m. The Ennis giant was uncatchable in second but I sensed that Conor O’Mahony from An Riocht was vulnerable in third. I waited until we were just entering the home straight to launch my vicious kick. I don’t know where the huge kick came from but I bounded past like a rather large gazelle. The Satzenbrau from Friday night must be rocket fuel, I’ve no other explanation.