Achill Half Marathon

It's 6.30 am and the noise of pouring rain outside the window wakes me up.
The first thought goes immediately to my first Half Marathon, hoping that the weather clears up soon and the race will still go ahead. I can't imagine of not running it after I have been training for 6 months and after I have recovered from a small injury due to overtraining.
The girls are a little bit anxious as if they are going to an exam session (this is their comment!), while I am - for whatever reason - confident, I sense that I will finish the race.
During our healthy breakfast we meet another runner like us. Yes! Now I can say it loud: I AM A RUNNER.
It's always nice to chat with someone who shares the same interest and/or passion with you, at least they don't judge you or put you down for what you do without even haven't tried themselves. Sometimes I think it's just envy, because they don't have the courage to get up from the sofa, switch off the telly and do something that makes them feel alive.

Just before we leave the B&B the rain stops even though the wind is still with us blowing and the breeze from the ocean touches on lightly our skins, thefore the panic starts on how many layers should we wear for the race. You don't want to get cold while waiting to start running, neither you want to be too warm with too many layers while you're running.
Once we get closer to the car park, we start seeing other runners stretching, warming up and you feel part of this "circus". It's no more watching people doing some sport on TV or standing on the side of the road to cheer, it's now you who's part of it.

As I try to find a room in the crowd while I pass the head of if where the elite atheletes are, a thought crosses my mind: "One day I will be there."
The spectators start to cheer us up louder while we get closer to the start line, then the horn lets us know that it is time to have some fun.
Few seconds later the rain is on us again I think we all had the same thought: "I hope it won't last for 13 miles". Luckely it didn't, so the race began...

My concern was right ahead of me: hilly road for the first 5 miles and so I learn that Achill Island is the hilliest island in Ireland. I can still hear now that I am writing down my thoughts, the sound of my breath when I was running up the hill while my heartrate was going crazy.
I started doing my usual scanning, my feet had no problems hitting the ground, my legs were moving smoothlie, my mind was telling me that I could make it to the top, but my stomach simply didn't want to listen to me. No matter how hard I tried to convince it that everything was going to be fine as soon as I would have reached the top and started the discent, it kept going its own way. I was running with a stone in my stomach as I was in the middle of the digestion and also I didn't have any water with me. The result was that almost at the top of the hill I had to walk fast rather than run. At least I didn't stop, so I was still in the loop.
Finally the first water station was at "the end of the tunnel" and everything started to dissapear slowly. Ready to hit the road, sure that there were no more hills, but yet I was wrong again.
I have to admit that for the first half an hour I thought that all this was insane, perhaps I was in a panic that I would never have finished the run.
I remember that at the 4th mile marker I saw the number 6 instead of 5, which motivated me to keep going as I was almost half way, but then I saw the marker for the mile 5 and then 6, I guess I had a hallucination.

I must say that the scenary was beautiful, especially running by Doogort beach one of the five blue flags of the island. From there 'till about the 10mile it was all down hill and I felt like a feather going down.
Yet another hill, just when I thought there were none left, but this time I was ready to face it. I wanted to run uphill and get to the top. I almost crawled but I got there.
Then finally, the last 3 miles and from far I could see the yellow circus tend at the beach near the finish line. It was right there and I was determined to run to the end. At this point my gluteus went tighter and started hurting, I had the impression that I wasn't moving at all. I could see my feet running but I felt like I was digging a hole.
Yards after yards I got to the last turn and all I could think of was converting the yards in metres to give me that last push to finish the race.
Here it is, I crossed it trying to restrain from crying. The feeling is indescribable: happiness and adrenaline combined together. Suddenly, I can only hear the screaming of joy of one of the girls who runs towards me and gives me a big hug and all I can think is I want to run again soon.

O guerriero tra le nuvole.

Non ci posso credere, la scorsa notte si è spento Pietro Taricone a soli 35 anni. E' morto mentre viveva una delle sue passioni: il paracadutismo.
Lui, O guerriero, sempre diverso da tutti gli altri ha vissuto fino in fondo inseguendo i suoi sogni e cercando di realizzarli a modo suo senza scendere a compromessi.

Mi dispiace tanto che se ne sia andato, non perchè era un personaggio della televisione, ma sapere che un ragazzo così pieno di vita adesso non c'è più mi mette sempre un pò di tristezza; forse perchè mi ricorda di un'altra giovane vita spezzata tanti anni fa.

Non credevo che ci fossero solo 4 anni di differenza tra noi due e ciò mi ha fatto pensare ancora una volta che la mia avventura nell'emisfero del sud sia la cosa giusta da fare, un giorno toccherà pure a me ed è quindi giusto che anch'io viva la vita fino in fondo, senza sprecare questo dono prezioso che molto spesso tutti diamo per scontato e come qualcosa che ci sia dovuto.

Buon viaggio Pietro.

Dublin Mini Marathon and beyond...

My last June Bank Holiday weekend in Ireland has just gone and I have spent it in the way I love the most: outdoor adventure, running and good craic with friends.
On Friday morning before heading down to the kingdom (Kerry) I had my long run of the week. This time I ran for 16km, when I was approaching the 9km I thought that Phoenix Park is not big enough now that I'm adding up more miliage. Problem solved when I took a deviation and discovered a whole new Phoenix Park. I have this image of myself running and running in this field where the grass is not cut, like in those cartoons I used to watch when I was a child.
I think running like other passions you might have is not only about being fit, which is a great thing on its own, but mainly your mind that feels free from everything. It's like there's a door that opens and lets all your imagination flowing and expanding. You come up with a new idea, solution or way to see things each run, especially the long ones. I don't know whether it is that I have more time to think about something or the major effort I put on a long run.

I have to say that after this long run my right foot started hurting a bit. I was a bit concerned whether I would recover in time for the climb of my old friend Carrantouhill.

It is a mountain located in County Kerry, and is the highest peak in Ireland. It is 1,038 m (3,406 feet) tall and is the central peak of the Macgillycuddy's Reeks range; meaning "The Black Stacks". There are two other peaks in this range above 1,000 m (Beenkeragh, 1,010 m; and Caher, 1,001 m).

Luckly it didn't hurt for the 9 hours hike, but I was almost limp for the next day and half and I recovered just in time for the Flora Mini-Marathon, which I finished it in 01:01:12.
If I think the first of the category Over 60 did it in 46:38...well, that's the beauty of sport, you're always young and can achieve everything you want.

Despite this hard weekend and the fact that the foot was still hurting, I made the mistake of not listening to my body, so I kept training.
Rule #1 DO NOT RUN if your body is telling you not to.
As consequence, I ended up being forced not to do anything for the following week: no swimming, no hike, no spinning and no run. And to make it worse I also had an infection in my stomach.
I had to do some research myself as the doctor was useless, and found out that these two symptoms are caused by overtraining.
Damn! I was doing so well! I was following my training schedule, I was focused not only on running but other things I was doing during the day, positive thinking ect...
But now this week, I felt behind the bars and I struggled to focus on things.

Today I felt better and I was able at least to go to the park for a walk, since the pain is not that strong anymore. I walked for about 5km, but with two breaks: one because I wanted to lie down and enjoy the nice weather and the other because I needed to and didn't want to force the foot work too much...I've learnt my lesson.

I hope I can start training little by little again next week as the Half Marathon is in two weeks time. For whatever reason I feel confortable about it, even though I haven't run that far yet.
Fingers-crossed!

It's time to move on!

Last Friday I took a deep breath, jumped out of my desk and asked my boss for a "chat"...I handed my notice.
Despite we head a couple of meetings in the last month, he seemed surprised of what he was hearing. I don't know, perhaps he was hoping I was going to change my mind or maybe that it would have taken me a longer before I decided to leave.
He is a good manager, like not that many out ther. He is what I would call a 360° manager: he can be tough, but also understanding person. He likes to invest in the people of his team and he's also a good listener. Unfortunately, our roads will take a different directions soon and it would be easy find someone else like him, but I've got to try to do it my own way or I'll regret one day.
I have to say that it didn't feel great when I took the weight off my shoulders as I would have expected, but actually I felt anxious and kept asking myself whether I had done the right thing: leaving the safe harbour for a relatively unknown destination.
Quoting Lance Armstrong in Every second counts: "I want to feel this life as it occurs. Not as it might have occurred. Or as it could have been, if only."
I wasn't satisfied with where my career was going; I wasn't giving any contribution and I wasn't going to leave a sign or put a name out there.
I wasn't at peace with the reality of my life fron 9am to 5pm and I didn't want to wake up one day and find myself living a life.
I think below video is self-explanatory of how I felt 'till not long ago.



How many chances do we have in our life? It could be few, it could be only one more chance, and this time around I want to do everything to the absolute maximum.
I was sick of being sitting around and waiting for the right moment, for an answer or for a sign.
The secret to achieve anything we want in life lies within us, it's up to us to discover it.
What is this all about? I just want to give to myself a fair chance.

FunRun...

I am officially a runner since yesterday. I ran for the first time surrounded by 2,500 people. I don't like when on a sunny day, especially during the weekend Phoenix Park is packed with people, so I was a bit concerned on how I would have felt running in such a big number. It just felt great! I still have the imagine in my mind while running down the bridge at Grand Canal, of all those runners forming a river.

As my first race ever, my aim wasn't the time, but finish it, so I did. I have to say that unfortunately, the girls and I don't have an official time, as we're still debating whether the race started early or we were late (your call) and we didn't start from the start line so the chips didn't work . Therefore, we have all unanimously decided to take off 4 minutes of our time. If this was the case, my time would have been approx. 00:48:21. It's a long way from the 00:29:06 of the first place, but I'll get there one day.

So far, I'm proud of myself and my performance. I didn't feel tired for all 8k, never thought for a moment to quit and felt strong all the time. Surprisingly, I had a huge smile in my face for at leasat 6k, I couldn't keep myself from not smiling. I guess that's why they call it "fun"run.
Obviously, the Irish weather was part of the race too. It started raining just a hour before we started and didn't stop until I got home. I have to say that I didn't bother the rain; as L.A. says: "When it rains, I put a raining jacket on and go".

I kept a normal pace, despite I felt I could run faster, but I didn't want to push it on my first race and running the risk of ruining all the fun and the past training if I had stop because of the fatigue. On the last km though, I decided to switch on the engine and yes I could still breath.

I liked the feeling of being cheered on by random spectators and mostly of other runners who I arrived first and waited for us at the finish line. Now I know how it feels!
My thoughts during the race were for a woman on a wheelchair I saw yesterday afternoon at the Luas stop. I dediced that I would have run for her, so I did.

Carlingford: Singles Day Adventure...our way!

I have to say that the recent hikes I have been on in the past few months are the ones I have enjoyed the most. I don’t know if this is because I’m more into the outdoors activities now or because I’m more fit or just I simply enjoy everything that comes from Mother Nature. I’d also add that I see the life that surrounds me through different lenses.

Before, I looked but I didn’t see. Now I do.


















With my adventurous sometimes crazy friends from the Challenge Hikers group, I spent a beautiful Sunday hiking in the Carlingford Mountains.



















The highest peak of this ridge of mountains is Slieve Foy (Irish: Sliabh Feá), which rises to an altitude of 588 m. The chain of mountains of which it is a part rises at The Foxes Rock (404m), and runs for roughly 6km in a south easterly direction, culminating in Slieve Foy itself.


















At the foot of Slieve Foy there is the pretty three-street medieval village town of Carlingford (Cairlinn). From the top of it instead you can enjoy the view of Carlingford Lough and on a clear day (as we had) the Mourne Mountains. Now that few of us I have discovered the world of climbing, as soon as we spot the chance to try our skills, push ourselves to the limit and mostly have that feeling back of being a child(wheeeeeeeeeeeeeee!), we certainly don't miss it.

Now that I look my picture on the left, I try to figure out how I'm still here writing this post. Look at me just on tiptoe! Well at least I look confident...

Run Ilaria Run

Well, I'm proud to announce that finally I have run 8.4 km in a row without a single stop whether it was because I had to cross a road or because my body refused to keep going.

Last Sunday, I ran the whole distance of Phoenix Park, from one entrance to the other and back again and the feeling at the end was indescribable. Now, for some (or many) of you who can show off your joglog might think what's so incredible with that, but for someone like me who 'till not a long time ago hated running or couldn't run for more than 2 minutes (literally) consecutively, this is a great achievement and motivation.

I have been picturing the full distance for a couple of days waiting for the moment to hit the road.
When I started at the gate as it is a little bit hilly I found it difficult, but that has become a routine of each training so I thought to myself that it would have gotten better in a few minutes. I was right! But still I wasn't feeling 100% in good form and the first negative thoughts came into my head, whether I'd be able to finish what I'd planned. Immediately, I got rid of this mental baggage and refocused on simply delivering my own best effort. So, I stopped worried of things I couldn't control and I started virtually scanning my body where everything seemed to be ok: legs still moving and not hurting, I could still breath normally and my hearth was somewhere in my upper body. I kept telling to myself to run metre after metre until I was feeling I could still run and at least try to get to Castleknock gate.
Then I saw the light at the end of the tunnel: the cars queuing waiting to cross the gate, so I said:"My heart still beats, keep running and add extra mileage, even if you don't run the whole distance".

Section by section I saw all my hotspots that I usually refer to measure the distance as I still don't have a footpod. On the way back, the only thing that I was thinking was that Pain is temporary and quitting lasts for good. It went on and on and when only a quarter of the distance was left to cover I even started picturing how it'd feel finishing without any interruption or giving up. I was so determined to finish the training that when close to the immaginary finish line a woman tried to ask me for something, I didn't stop and with a sort of sound that came out my mouth I apologised for not stopping. It might seem rude, but if I did all my efforts would have been vane and then I think that with all the people that are enjoying a sunny day at the park, why would you even think of bothering a runner?

Did I mention that my request for transfering my to the full marathon has been accepted?
Well, now you know.