We took a trip to the library recently, a place where you are likely to pick up books that ordinarily wouldn't take your fancy, but because they are only on loan it's not a big thing if they don't turn out to be what you expect. The boys wandered around aimlessly, picking up a book, putting it down, looking at the cover and checking out how many illustrations it had. Had the artist done enough to draw them in, and the writer enough to reel them in even further again? I picked up a few books and like the boys checked them out for look and feel. I was looking for a story book with 'short' bedtime stories for the buachail beag. Could I have selected a better book....I think not...little did I know that it contained the story which will be the inspiration for my summer training.
Take yourself back to the mystical times of Fionn Mac Cumhaill when battles or duels were settled in a most unlikely manner or wars were started over cattle or bulls. As I started to read this story one evening, after a long battle myself of a different nature trying to get a little rogue of a boy into his PJ's, I sat back and read carefully...Fionn had been set a challenge by a dark-skinned handsome Prince from Greece. The young Greek Prince, Caol on Iariann, decided he was going to be King of Ireland and receive a load of taxes from Irish people. Fionn declared that there was never a person to beat his finest soldiers and so a challenge was set. The Prince declared he was champion of fighting, wrestling and running, so Fionn settled on a running competition. As the story progressed Fionn, while wandering through the forest, stumbled on a tall, skinny man, a little dishevelled with a mud splattered hem of a great big grey coat, out from under which appeared two enormous feet, with each shoe the size of a boat - this was Bodach on Cota Lachtna. A self-confessed untidy devil, but he was the man to take on the challenge and save Ireland from Greek dominance. The Greek 'Caol an Iarainn' was scoffing at the thought of a simple, but large Irish man called Bodach attempting to beat him.
In my own mind as I translated this back to the future I could understand that preparation was perfect for Caol an Iarainn, long and short runs had been done, the watch and heart monitor were in place and the diet was down to a T - all the training books were read, the stretches were complete and the gear was laid out, t-shirt and shorts on the back of a chair with runners and socks placed neatly on the ground below. Then there was the Bodach, he had a lovely relaxed approach (while not ideal, it still did not do him any harm), he roasted a wild boar over a fire and drifted comfortably to sleep, his snoring so loud Caol an Iarainn spent the night cursing him.
Now while there was no chip timing in place for this crucial and lengthy race, it still had a dawn start, so while the Greek Prince was not going to delay, the Bodach needed a bit more rest time, and the roasted wild boar had to be finished off. After the Bodach started out, he caught up with the Prince in no time at all, a little annoying you can imagine, especially since the Bodach was offering him left over bones to chew on. So a battle of wills continued over the following hours, the Prince galloping away at times, only to be caught eventually by the handy paced Bodach. Of course the Bodach sailed out past the weary prince - the prince was raging, forcing himself to run even faster and tire in equal measure. But the Bodach was already in control. He passed a clump of blackberries and stuffed his face full of dark juiced berries, nearly camouflaging his appearance.
At the finish line stood a concerned bunch. Fionn, wanting to know the fate of his country sent out a scout. But the scout only reported back about the appearance of a 'dark' man approaching. Fionn resigned himself to the fact that the Prince had reigned victorious and the Bodach had faded somewhere at about the three quarter distance mark or maybe the Templemaley climb or some equivalent to Heartbreak Hill. However, the Bodach cheerfully returned to the finish line first. He requested some meal to mix with the remaining blackberries and a fine drink to quench his thirst. Moments later the Greek Prince Caol on Iarainn stormed in. Accusing the Bodach of cheating he was about the lunge at him with his sword when the Bodach flung a big fist of blackberries at him with a blow so hard that it turned his head back to front. He then proceeded to pick him up with one leg and dropped him into his ship for a return journey back to Greece. So it was success and celebration all round as the Bodach on Cota lachtna was transformed to Manannan Mac Lir, the sea god that came to help in an hour of need.
And where, you may ask does this provide inspiration in any way to a summer training schedule....well, to be honest I probably won't be taking tips for preparation and time keeping from the Bodach, but I think what endeared me most of all was his honest and carefree, stress-free approach. He didn't fret about the little things, he had one thing in mind and that was victory. For me it will be personal victory to complete the events I sign up for. At this early point in my promising career I won't be breaking any records but my own. He had a 'rest when you need to' approach, he curbed the early enthusiasm of the restless starter and didn't bolt out of traps like a hound after a bunny - he took it grand and easy and he still won. The summer runs will challenge me for sure, Killarney challenged me and there were times that I willed the Bodach to appear out from behind the cloud encased cluster of mountains to will me along in a light footed stride. He didn't appear, and I can now recognise some of my running errors, but if I don't make them I'll never learn from them! Eh!
We all know or see a Caol an Iariann type character at the start line, a degree of over-confidence. The Bodachs are more relaxed and have a fun factor, I think I can recognise a few Bodachs in the Crusaders – you’ll know who you are :-)
I'll be calling on the mythical power of Bodach on Cota Lachtna to get me through some of the more strenuous runs in the coming weeks, I'll be silently recalling the 'steady as you are will get you there' and I will take heart that I'm in shoes a lot more comfortable than Bodach, so no excuses there...looking forward to the coming weeks and some steady preparation of Caol an Iariann along with the light-hearted attitude of the Bodach.
Take yourself back to the mystical times of Fionn Mac Cumhaill when battles or duels were settled in a most unlikely manner or wars were started over cattle or bulls. As I started to read this story one evening, after a long battle myself of a different nature trying to get a little rogue of a boy into his PJ's, I sat back and read carefully...Fionn had been set a challenge by a dark-skinned handsome Prince from Greece. The young Greek Prince, Caol on Iariann, decided he was going to be King of Ireland and receive a load of taxes from Irish people. Fionn declared that there was never a person to beat his finest soldiers and so a challenge was set. The Prince declared he was champion of fighting, wrestling and running, so Fionn settled on a running competition. As the story progressed Fionn, while wandering through the forest, stumbled on a tall, skinny man, a little dishevelled with a mud splattered hem of a great big grey coat, out from under which appeared two enormous feet, with each shoe the size of a boat - this was Bodach on Cota Lachtna. A self-confessed untidy devil, but he was the man to take on the challenge and save Ireland from Greek dominance. The Greek 'Caol an Iarainn' was scoffing at the thought of a simple, but large Irish man called Bodach attempting to beat him.
In my own mind as I translated this back to the future I could understand that preparation was perfect for Caol an Iarainn, long and short runs had been done, the watch and heart monitor were in place and the diet was down to a T - all the training books were read, the stretches were complete and the gear was laid out, t-shirt and shorts on the back of a chair with runners and socks placed neatly on the ground below. Then there was the Bodach, he had a lovely relaxed approach (while not ideal, it still did not do him any harm), he roasted a wild boar over a fire and drifted comfortably to sleep, his snoring so loud Caol an Iarainn spent the night cursing him.
Now while there was no chip timing in place for this crucial and lengthy race, it still had a dawn start, so while the Greek Prince was not going to delay, the Bodach needed a bit more rest time, and the roasted wild boar had to be finished off. After the Bodach started out, he caught up with the Prince in no time at all, a little annoying you can imagine, especially since the Bodach was offering him left over bones to chew on. So a battle of wills continued over the following hours, the Prince galloping away at times, only to be caught eventually by the handy paced Bodach. Of course the Bodach sailed out past the weary prince - the prince was raging, forcing himself to run even faster and tire in equal measure. But the Bodach was already in control. He passed a clump of blackberries and stuffed his face full of dark juiced berries, nearly camouflaging his appearance.
At the finish line stood a concerned bunch. Fionn, wanting to know the fate of his country sent out a scout. But the scout only reported back about the appearance of a 'dark' man approaching. Fionn resigned himself to the fact that the Prince had reigned victorious and the Bodach had faded somewhere at about the three quarter distance mark or maybe the Templemaley climb or some equivalent to Heartbreak Hill. However, the Bodach cheerfully returned to the finish line first. He requested some meal to mix with the remaining blackberries and a fine drink to quench his thirst. Moments later the Greek Prince Caol on Iarainn stormed in. Accusing the Bodach of cheating he was about the lunge at him with his sword when the Bodach flung a big fist of blackberries at him with a blow so hard that it turned his head back to front. He then proceeded to pick him up with one leg and dropped him into his ship for a return journey back to Greece. So it was success and celebration all round as the Bodach on Cota lachtna was transformed to Manannan Mac Lir, the sea god that came to help in an hour of need.
And where, you may ask does this provide inspiration in any way to a summer training schedule....well, to be honest I probably won't be taking tips for preparation and time keeping from the Bodach, but I think what endeared me most of all was his honest and carefree, stress-free approach. He didn't fret about the little things, he had one thing in mind and that was victory. For me it will be personal victory to complete the events I sign up for. At this early point in my promising career I won't be breaking any records but my own. He had a 'rest when you need to' approach, he curbed the early enthusiasm of the restless starter and didn't bolt out of traps like a hound after a bunny - he took it grand and easy and he still won. The summer runs will challenge me for sure, Killarney challenged me and there were times that I willed the Bodach to appear out from behind the cloud encased cluster of mountains to will me along in a light footed stride. He didn't appear, and I can now recognise some of my running errors, but if I don't make them I'll never learn from them! Eh!
We all know or see a Caol an Iariann type character at the start line, a degree of over-confidence. The Bodachs are more relaxed and have a fun factor, I think I can recognise a few Bodachs in the Crusaders – you’ll know who you are :-)
I'll be calling on the mythical power of Bodach on Cota Lachtna to get me through some of the more strenuous runs in the coming weeks, I'll be silently recalling the 'steady as you are will get you there' and I will take heart that I'm in shoes a lot more comfortable than Bodach, so no excuses there...looking forward to the coming weeks and some steady preparation of Caol an Iariann along with the light-hearted attitude of the Bodach.