Barefoot Runner

As I’ve mentioned before, I’m a bit of a bookaholic. Unfortunately, however, I seem to buy far more books than I ever get a chance to read. Travelling allows me the time to catch up. And so, after completing Bill Bryson’s Down Under, I tackled Barefoot Runner, the life of double Olympic Marathon Champion Abebe Bikila as told by Paul Rambali.

I like my book choice to reflect my travels, and when they’re not about travelling itself, they are usually about runners from some of the countries I’ve been to. In truth I had meant to read this book when I was in Ethiopia twelve months ago, but get round to it - better late than never.

Bikila was the first of the great African runners, and his efforts in winning the Rome marathon while running barefoot heralded the start of the golden age of African distance runners. The book is an interesting insight, not only to the life and times of Bikila and his coach, but also gives the reader some idea of the history and life of Ethiopia at that time. How Bikila came to be competing at an Olympic Games in the first place involves more than a couple of cases of good luck and being in the right place at the right time. Getting to a second Olympics was even more fortunate.

Bikila had more than a small part to play in changing the face of African distance running, and putting Ethiopia on the map. The story is highly recommended to anyone interested in the success of East Africa athletes. I just wish I’d read it before I visited Addis 12 months ago.

I'm in Heaven

I’m not sure if it’s the clear blue sky, knowing that winter is setting in back home, the peace and the tranquillity of this hillside town, the fact that I’ve spent the last week on a career counselling course mostly contemplating my future, the novelty of my own company and the sheer and utter freedom that comes with being on the road again, but right now as I sit on a rock in the warm sunshine and light breeze on the edge of Rocky Valley Lake, I could be a thousand miles from the hustle and bustle of London. In fact I’m many thousand miles away, but I’m sure you know what I mean. I feel like I’m on a different planet. I know it’s only my first day in Falls Creek, and that two more weeks of my own company could well change my mood, but for now all that could break the euphoria is if a snake crawled from under this rock that I’m sitting on.

It would have been easy for me to skip Falls Creek and to justify omitting it from my travels because Australia is so far from anywhere else in the world and that the likely readers of my book either live a few too many time zones away, or already know of the magic of the place. As recently as Thursday, when sorting out a transfer from Albury was proving difficult, I almost gave up on getting here. In fact when I arrived in Albury yesterday and thought that I’d missed my connection, I was pondering what other ways I could fill two weeks in Australia. As we drove to the town yesterday evening, I was very much thinking that I was doing this to tick a box and ensure that Australia at least featured in the book. Arriving after 6pm I failed to find an open supermarket and struggled to find a restaurant open at this time of year. I sensed that this could be a very long two weeks.

But each dawn brings a new day, and after an incredibly enjoyable morning run, I had a relaxing breakfast and green tea in a restaurant around the corner, read some more of Bill Bryson’s excellent ‘Down Under’ and bought some groceries in one of the local supermarkets. Now I’m out on an afternoon walk to get some photographs and I find myself sitting and smiling at the beauty of this place. The true wonder of the world lies in the beauty of the unexpected.

Today, life is very good.

Skippy and Friends

I’ve been in Canberra a few days now, staying at the Australian Institute of Sport, and carrying out most of my training in the eucalyptus forests that adjoin the institute. So far all the wildlife that I’ve spotted was two common rabbits (yes they have them here too*), and a few colourful birds. At least that was until this morning.

I was about 25 minutes into my run around the mountain bike trails through the forest. Given the unevenness of the trail, my reputation for falling over, and the possible risk of stepping on a snake, I was paying close attention to the trail ahead, when suddenly something leapt up beside me, in much the same way a sheep would do if she noticed you only when you were right up close to her… and then bounced away. Yes, it was a kangaroo!

I’ve never seen a kangaroo outside of the zoo before, so it was pretty exciting to be this close to one. I paused a moment as it bounce off out of sight, and then continued with my run. I saw another one about two minutes later, standing about 20 metres away, observing its surroundings. I went back to the accommodation with a huge smile on my face, excited to tell everyone else what I’d seen. It transpired that this wasn’t such a rare sighting, and Marie, the only other non-Aussie in the group had spotted four of them when she was doing her session on the edge of the forest.

Later today when I was out for my afternoon run, I spotted a whole field of kangaroos and their joeys in a field basking in the sun. There must have been 20 or 30 of them. I quickly ran back to my room and picked up the camera. Alas when I returned they had all disappeared without a track. Oh well, if they’re that common, no doubt I’ll see plenty more of them!

Getting here wasn’t without its minor difficulty. After finally reaching Melbourne and making my way to the hotel in which I would hopefully set about overcoming jetlag, I learned that Qantas had grounded all flights for the foreseeable future. Great! I had a the last minute chosen Qantas over Virgin for the internal leg of my journey to Canberra. Luckily, rivalry between the two companies meant that Virgin had put on extra flights to cover the strikes and I would only be delayed by about an hour. I didn’t know that at the time, however, and there was a small bit of panic before I finally got to sleep. But then it would be a real adventure without a little bit of a hiccup here and there.

Canberra itself is a strange city. Specifically designed and built as the new seat of the federal parliament to end rivalry between Melbourne and Sydney shortly after the union of the six colonies, the majority of the central area is taken up by government buildings, museums, and a huge artificial lake named after the city designer Walter Burley Griffin. Griffin won an international competition to design the city, and with the help of his wife Marion, an architectural artist, designed a city for 75,000 in the early 1900s.

Approximately 900 square miles of land which surrounded the former farming community was ceded by New South Wales to form the Australian Capital Territory, a federal area similar to the USA’s District of Columbia. Today the city is home to just 400,000 people, definitely on of the least crowded cities I ever been to. Its airport is small, its only railway connection runs to Sydney, and it lies more than 40 miles from the main Sydney to Melbourne highway. Travel writer Bill Bryson (I’m reading his humorous and informative Down Under at the moment) describes Canberra as ‘not really a city at all, but rather an extremely large park with a city hidden in it.’

The simple and beautiful design for the city was formulated by Griffiths and his wife purely from topographical maps of the area (the Griffiths had never been to Australia), and when they travelled there in 1913 to put the plan into action, they were met with difficulties surrounding the First World War, and a lack of enthusiasm and funds. Griffiths died in 1937, and never saw the completion of his greatest plans, though the remainder of Canberra was built on his ‘floor plan’ of avenues, roundabouts and imposing lake.

Today, staying at the Institute of Sport just ten minutes drive from Canberra’s centre, it’s difficult to believe that I’m on the edge of the capital city of one of the largest countries in the world. It’s a very long way from the overcrowded, sprawling mass that is London.

The Adventures Recommence

Greetings from Brunei! After a far-too-long break from my travels, the training kit, camera, laptop and a rather optimistic pile of reading have been bundled into a suitcase, and here I am two thirds of the way to Australia. I’m not quite as unorganised as I was for my trip to Mexico 18 months ago, but I’m not far off. It turns out that working full time and organising travels at the same time is a skill that’s I haven’t fully developed yet, but at least I know where I’m staying the first night this time around (but only since Thursday).

First I have a residential in Canberra to do as part of the world’s longest-running graduate certificate (a reflection on me, and my inability to complete the requirements rather than the actual structure of the course), and then it’s off to Falls Creek for two weeks of altitude training.

Prior to the course and the book, Australia was never really on my hit-list of places to visit. Not because I don’t want to see the country, or meet the people, but rather the thought of sitting on my bum in a confined space for 24 hours just to get there is a long way from my idea of fun. Some of my colleagues asked me earlier this week if I smoke – the most logically reason they could come up with why I am always so keen to take the post to the post room. The real reason is, of course, a lot more logical. I don’t like to sit down for long periods of time! Not a great trait for someone that likes travelling so much (of course when we say we like travelling, we actually mean we like being in different places and seeing new parts of the world rather than actually enjoying the process of being transported through the sky from one country to another). Anyway, I’m two 8 hour flights into getting there, and I’m not going to give up now. Just another 7 hours to go and I’m there. Easy! Or at least it is to do it once. Getting back on the plane to do it all in the opposite direction will be the real challenge.

In the meantime, I will hopefully have interesting things to write about again. Not that living in East London is not interesting - in fact there is barely a dull moment - but it’s more about living life on the edge rather than living the life. My life is in the lap of the gods each time I leave the house, and if I don’t nearly collide with a car, a pedestrian crossing the road with his back to the traffic, or another cyclist who thinks that the rules of the road don’t apply to him, then it’s been a successful day. Brushes with death on the roads of London don’t make for the most interesting of reading, so hopefully in the coming weeks I’ll have interesting things to write about without my life being endangered.

But before I get to the interesting stuff it’s time for an update on my running – boring I know, but it keeps everything in context. In one of my last posts I mentioned that I would be doing a half marathon again soon. The safe target was to break 90 minutes; but in the back of my mind I knew that I wouldn’t be happy unless I broke 85. And so I lined up alongside (well ok, slightly behind) Haile Gebreslase at last weekend’s Great Birmingham Run. Just being in the same race as my running idol really motivated me – perhaps a little too much – and I was lucky not to pay badly for my over exuberance in the first mile. Unfortunately my watch didn’t start so I wasn’t completely sure what time I was on for until I had just 400 meters left to run. With a huge smile – which probably looked more like a grimace that that stage – I crossed the line in 1 hour 24 minutes and 4 seconds. Mission accomplished! This followed a 61 second personal best over 5km in September, and a time that was just 1 second outside my best at the National Road Relays two weeks ago. I’m not quite back to my best yet, but not far off now. Any it feels very good.

Anyway, time to go and sit on my bum so more. Australia here I come!

Hannah England Caption Competition Special

I remember in 2006 looking at the GB athletics team that had just been slected for the Olympics and being absolutely gutted for Hannah England that she was not on her way to Beijing.  Twelve months later she appeared to have done everything she could have to gain selection for the World Championships in Berlin, but again she was overlooked.  Today as she won silver at the World Championships in Daegu, those selection disappointments seemed like a lifetime ago.  The apparent effortlessness with which the world's best athletes stride to victory hides numerous hurdles and setbacks that they have encountered and endured.  Hannah is no different.

I had the pleasure of working with Hannah during my four years at Birmingham and of training at altitude with her in Mammoth Lakes last spring.  Not that I can take any credit for Hannah's success today.   She rarely needed my help during her time as a student, and she dropped me on all but one of the runs that we did in Mammoth.

But what I can say is that I knew her before she was famous.  And because you all seem to like the caption competitions, I thought that I'd do a little Hannah England special.  The photo was taken when we were altitude training in Mammoth.

My attempt is an adaptation of my favourite 'fat mama' joke: 'this girl is so fast she has to wear two watches...one for each time zone', but I'm sure we can do better than that.  Add your suggestions as a comment below, or e-mail them to me.  I'll post the best ones in a few weeks time.

Congratulations Hannah!  And for those of you that are faced with obstacles and setbacks, keep fighting!

Successful Season draws to a Close

I'm just 3 days into my annual week-long end-of-season break, and already I'm itching to get back into training. 

The season ended with another season best at the Alexander Stadium on Saturday evening, as I  ran under 11 minutes for the 3,000m steeplechase for the first time since June 2004.  At the time it didn't seem like a very big deal. Truth be told, I was a little disappointed not to run a personal best.  I didn't feel particularly sharp, and I know that my hurdling wasn't as fluid as it's been all season.  Some hours later though I realised what I've achieved this season.  I'm not world class by any stretch of the imagination, but after seven years of struggling to get back to fitness, I'm finally running the sort of times that I did when I was 25.  The only bad race I ran all season was the 400m hurdles race that I tried to squeeze between two steeplechases two weekends ago.  I feel like I belong on the starting line now, and I'm really enjoying racing.  And I've managed it despite the anemia, dog bite, and other little injuries, and the moving home and job.  My 91st place finish at the Northern Cross Country Championships in January seems like a lifetime ago.  In fact it feels like a different person.  I'm glad I didn't quit that day.

Before I get too carried away, I realise that my PB in the steeplechase is quite a weak one and was ran in a race where I ran the first half way too fast.  I am by no means world class.  But I know that I am getting into the sort of shape that I can do myself and my talent justice, and hopefully next season I can set a personal best that is a true reflection of my ability.  Right now I feel that nothing would give me greater pleasure.

This blog was never intended to be about my training.  But part of the reason for me quitting work last year was to get back into my running, and hopefully those who have been following my blogs for the past year and a half (how can it be that long?), will appreciate what this means to me.  I like to refer to it as 'sharing the joy'; you may have your own opinion.

So where to from here?  Well I have a week off work next week, so I will be updating the website, adding some blogs for those interested in running, and making plans for the months ahead.  Then I will hopefully getting my annual leave request for next year signed off, every minute of which will involve altitude training, with a view to getting the research for the book done and dusted.  And that means that soon Egan's Adventures will be all about my travels again, just as it was born to be.

And best of all, I get back into training next week.  First up for the new season will be a half marathon.  I can't wait!

Two Chases, Two Days, Two Season's Bests

A promising start to the season, as reported in my last post, was followed by a Division 3 record for the 2,000m steeplechase at the first UK Women's League Match. I then ran some training PBs around Metchley during a session in Birmingham. I couldn't have been more optimistic about what the season ahead would hold.

Nothing ever goes to plan though, and since then I have missed some training through adjusting to life in London, pulled stomach muscles, a dead leg from running into a bollard, and a bruised knee cap from walking into the shower door. Additionally, blood tests revealed that while my haemoglobin levels have returned to normal, my ferritin levels (iron stores) are still very low. It was with considerable apprehension, therefore, that I went into one of the most challenging racing weekends of my life. I'm not averse to doing a few events in the same day, nor am I scared of racing two days in a row, but normally I can't walk for two days after doing a steeplechase. Last weekend I was attempting to do two in two days!

I left my house in East London at 5:30 on Saturday morning to fly to Dublin for the Irish Championships. There was four of us entered in the 3,000m steeplechase, and I was determined not to be the first person to do this race at the Irish Championships and not win a medal. I won bronze in 2008 and 2010, but on both occasions I was also last in the race.

I went out conservatively, and was sitting at the back of the field for the first few laps. At about halfway I realised that the gap between second and myself wasn't getting any bigger, and I soon realised that silver could be mine. I felt really strong for the last kilometre, and had a massive smile on my face as I raced down the home straight, knowing that this time round I actually deserved my national medal.

Last year as I stood on the podium I was close to tears. I knew that that I'd thrown away a national title. This time round I couldn't have been happier with my silver medal. It wasn't just atonement for last year, it made up for all the frustrations that I've experienced over the last seven years. I've had lots of highs and lows around Morton Stadium, but I don't think I've ever felt so satisfied on a warm down at this venue.

And then I saw the time! I knew that I'd ran faster than last year, but I couldn't believe that I'd ran 11:02.39. Not only is that the fastest time I've ran since 26th June 2004, but it's the 4th quickest time I'd ever done. My seven year old PB is now only 12 seconds away.

I quickly gathered my belongings, and made for the airport, and a short time later I was on my way to Liverpool. Sunday was going to be a whole new day, and two more races lay ahead of me.

With a pair of very heavy legs, I laboured around the 400m hurdles, and gratefully gathered the 3 points on offer. This was going to be a very long day!

At the previous two matches I had easily won the 2,000m steeplechase, and my current league record stood at 7:22.3, which, as I calculated at 7am that morning, isn't even as fast as 2k of my 3k chase from yesterday. If my legs would only just hold up, I could be on for something special here. Just before the race, I really got up for it, and though a little scared that my legs may let me down, was ready to try and break the record again.

I quickly got a bit of a lead, but 2 laps in realised that it wasn't getting any bigger. With just over two laps to go, somebody came past. Though I knew we were both well on schedule to smash the record, I knew that I would have to win the race to take the record into 2012. I tried as hard as I could to hold on, and did some of the best waterjumps that I've ever done, but alas it was not to be. My time of 7:14.3 would have knocked eight seconds from the record, and again it was the fastest time I've ran for the distance in seven years, but unfortunately on the day it just wasn't good enough. Cathy Ansell ran 7:12.1, to add to the 1500m, and 3000m wins that she had collected earlier in the day.

Despite the slightly bittersweet end to the weekend, I can't but be happy. For seven years I've struggled to find any sort of form, or get any sort of consistency in training. At times, I felt a little self conscious calling myself an athlete. But those times are behind me now, and someday soon I'm sure that I'll be able to say that I am faster in my thirties than I was in my twenties.

Now I just need the muscle sorness to die down a bit, so that I can crack on with training for the next challenge.

Belgrade Bliss

My most recent posts have been somewhat disappointing from a running perspective, so it is with some considerable relief that I am able to report something positive on that front.

Seven weeks ago I was contacted by Ferrybank AC in Waterford to guest in the steeplechase for them at the European Champion Clubs Cup.  As Irish League champions they would be representing Ireland in the B tier of the competition in Belgrade.  At that stage I was just recovering from my 'bought' of anemia, and I happily said I would, knowing that a competition abroad was exactly the motivation that I needed. 

Little did I know then that I would be completely sidelined for 2 weeks due to a dog bite and subsequent infection.  Anyone that does sport knows that two weeks off, just five weeks before the start of the season is disastrous preparation.  There were times, when the infection didn't look to be clearing up and I wasn't managing to get any track sessions in, that I thought I wouldn't be able to travel at all.

You can imagine my delight then when race day finally arrived on Saturday, that I was able to put in a half decent performance. The time I ran (11:28), is not going to get Ireland's top chasers worried, and the chances of me achieving the qualifying time for next year's Olympics haven't increased any, but I am very happy with my fastest season opener in seven years.  Given the far from ideal buildup, this for me is a very positive result.  My hurdling and waterjumping was the best I've ever done, and given that I've only managed 1.3 track sessions so far this year, I'm pretty optimistic that come August my personal best, which stretches back to 2004, stands danger.

The team finished second overall and have earned promotion for Ireland to the top tier of the competition next year.  Most of the athletes are in their late teens and early twenties (I was the oldest by almost 9 years), and they show great promise for the future.  It was really nice to be part of such a great team performance.

We didn't get to see much of Belgrade, though we did endure the long straight road between Budapest and Belgrade twice in the past few days.  The hotel, and the food they provided, didn't give us the best impression of the city, but even if all that the Serbian capital gave me was a reminder of the sheer joy of racing over barriers then that's enough for me.  Finding a bakery that serves the nicest pastries in the world was merely the 'icing on the cake'.

The weekend also reminded me of the challenges that face the travelling athlete.  Long journeys, far from ideal food and dealing with hot weather, are just some of the challenges that athletes face as they travel the world in search of that perfect performance.  Good planning, and taking control of situations as they arise can help overcome these minor barriers, and at the end of the day, spending a few hours at border control is a small price to pay for getting to do what we love on a daily basis. 

Five weeks ago I had 3 holes in my right calf.  There was nothing that I could have done to prevent that dog from biting me.  I can't help but think that I was lucky though, and that it could have been so much worse.  Had that dog actually liked the taste of my calf, I might have had a lot more that a few holes to worry about.  The pure pleasure of running could have been taken away from me in an instant.  Most people don't realise what they've got until it's gone.  I was lucky.  I got that wake-up call before it was too late.

In other news, I've recently landed myself a job in London.  While that means the altitude adventures will be put on hold for a while, it also means that some day I'll actually have enough money to continue with the research for the book.  The thought of living and working in London has always scared me, but now it's just another little challenge that I have to face.  From Monday next, I will be working as High Performance Sport Manager at the University of East London.  With it will come a number of challenges, but it's up to me to make the most of the situation.  The chance to live close to the Olympic Stadium in the build up to, and during, the Games will be a once in a lifetime experience.  Once I have found somewhere to live, I will be taking bids for floor space for the last week of July, and the first week of August 2012.

Some Facts about 1968 Mexico City Olympics

Now that the website is fully up-and-running, and given that I’m not training at the moment, I’m using the opportunity to catch up with writing on the book.  I’m doing a bit of background reading about the Mexico City Games, as the high altitude at which the Games were held (2,400m) resulted in the emergence of Kenya as the distance-running superpower that it is today. 

The 1968 Games were, however, memorable and significant for a number of other reasons:

• Bob Beamon added 55 centimetres to the Long Jump world record; a record which was only eventually broken in 1991.
• During the 200 metre medal ceremony Tommie Smith and John Carlos, who won gold and bronze respectively, raised their black-gloved fists as a symbol of ‘Black Power’.  They were later banned from the Games for life as punishment.
• Dick Fosbury won gold in the high jump utilising a technique which became known as the Fosbury flop, and quickly became the dominant technique utilised in the event.
• John Stephen Akhwari of Tanzania, infamously finished the marathon, in last place, despite a dislocated knee.
• The 1968 Games was the first to use fully automatic timing, and the first to use a Tartan track.  Drug testing also made its first appearance at these Olympics, though these initial searches were primarily for narcotics and stimulants.  Having drunk several beers just prior to competition Swedish pentathlete Hans-Gunnar Liljunwall became the first Olympian to be disqualified because of doping.

Dog Bite Update

All the optimism in the world hasn’t helped to heal my leg as quickly as I had hoped.  After almost a week of not being able to put any weight on my right leg, I was overjoyed just to be able to walk again.  The joy was short-lived however, as I realised that three of the four wounds had become infected.  I’m currently on my last day of antibiotics, and though there is no discomfort in the leg and I can run on it, a small bit of the infection remains.  With the track season kicking into action, and my season opener less than 4 weeks away, I wouldn’t mind being able to train again sometime soon! 

I don’t mean to disgust anybody out there, but this photo is purely a reminder to dog owners to keep their beasts under control.