The Marathon Snail

I finally made it to the start line of a marathon! I was so excited in the days coming up to the race, and even picking up my race pack and number gave me a buzz. It was very warm in the morning as we walked to the start line. Because it was Halloween, we saw a lot of weird and wonderful costumes – a guy in a full robot outfit, the Cowardly Lion, and of course Mankini Man who must be personally keeping Vaseline in business after his painful pursuits at both the Dublin half and full. I trained hard for this marathon, and although I was hoping to complete it in sub 4:26, my first goal was to have a good race – I’d pulled myself through enough training programs and injuries to get here only to ruin the race for the sake of a time. My two 20 mile runs had both gone well and I hadn’t felt much from my IT band for a good while, so it was looking positive. The first six miles were very uncomfortable – I still don’t know why. It could have been the weather, which was far too hot and humid ...

Catching the bug

I started running properly in June 2009 when a group of people at circuit training said they would do the Dublin Marathon, and I decided to join them. Before that I had tried running a couple of miles here and there but always ended up walking some or most of the way. The first official training run I did was a 5 mile, and it was the longest 5 miles of my life - I was wearing what can only be described as sandpaper socks that day, and gave myself oozing inch-wide blisters on the arches of both feet. Strangely, that didn't put me off running (even when I went home, ran myself a bath and was horrified to see my blisters rapidly filling up with blood from the heat of the water). I continued my training, with copious support from the group, and the longest I have gone without training since that day is one week (I was sick - my excuse). We followed an 18 week programme very like Hal Higdon's Intermediate 1 schedule ; our aim was to finish the marathon smiling (and for me in under 5...

Sister Act: Hiking the Himalayas in an All-Women Group in Nepal

Sarah O’Regan braves the elements and the Himalayan heights and finds tranquillity in the company of women who are breaking the traditional mould Danu and Kumari, women hiking the Himalayas The Himalayan wind pushes me to the side of the footpath once again, and I tack, zigzagging like a sailboat in a headwind. A half-heard sound makes me turn, and on the steep mountainside below I see my companions frantically waving. While they are clearly shouting, I can’t hear them over the howling in my ears. I sit on a stone and rest, rocked by the gale. When they catch up, I learn that Kumari and her heavy pack have been blown over, and tumbled down the mountain some distance. A few metres to our right the ground disappears into a deadly ravine, but luckily no serious damage is done. Later, my guide Danu tells me she has never experienced winds like this in fifteen years of trekking. Small comfort this is to me; my left eyeball has been whipped repeatedly by some rebellious stray hairs that esca...