Two days gone from the Wicklow Way Trail and the memory is pleasantly etched in my brain but painfully ingrained in my legs. The whole soleus, calf, hamstring and glute string of muscles has essentially “checked out” and on this evidence the week will be even easier than intended. I’m waddling around like Tyrion Lannister or as Conor described me in the office today: “you are doing great for a 70-year old”.

Worst coach ever?

“You sneaky bastard,” Jason told me at lunch, “now I know how it is,” referring to my backstabbing breaking of his 2009 time while he was side-lined. Such kicking of a man when he’s done will certainly earn me a shot at the coveted title of “Traitor Coach of the Year”. As Aoife told me afterwards: “well done on 7th, now you just need to figure out how to keep him injured”.

On a serious note, it was a terrible pity for Jason to miss out on this race with injury as last year’s evidence suggested it could have turned the race into a three-way shoot-out between him, Ian and Brian. Fingers crossed the laser will fast-track his recovery this week and Tony’s workshop will give him a roadmap to avoid further issues in the future.

I’m writing a feature on Amidou as a timely look at the Mali-born mountain runner for CE which should go up tomorrow. This was his second podium-spot and it’s hard to believe he’s only been in serious training for just under 15 months.

Anyway, DOMS does not cure itself, but sleep helps, and I must get some here.