Prevention really is better than pain

Listening to your body in the run-up to the marathon is key, writes Emmet Malone , though he wishes his leg wouldn't complain…

Listening to your body in the run-up to the marathon is key, writes Emmet Malone, though he wishes his leg wouldn't complain so much

Of all the advice gathered during the first month of this whole marathon malarkey, the one that seems the most pertinent of late is probably Gary Crossan's observation that would-be runners should "listen to their bodies".

I've been listening hard recently and frankly, my friends, the feedback is not good. Having initially spoken in hushed tones, my body is yelling to give it a break, while my right leg is demanding to know just what the hell it is that I think I'm up to.

The leg thing started innocuously enough: a rather mild pain behind the knee with a little weakness that affected me more when I wasn't running than when I was.

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I wouldn't have given it too much thought, but I was having a coffee with a physiotherapist (who you'll meet next week) and she was expressing bafflement at the number of people (her tone implied "gobshites") who have a niggling problem but "think they'll run it off", only to present themselves for treatment in the days before they take on 26.2 miles. I laughed awkwardly before sheepishly mentioning that I might need her advice.

Within hours, the dull but constant pain seemed a rather secondary consideration, for later that day, I sprained my groin in rather mysterious circumstances while playing football. The "mysterious" bit was that the injury was not picked up in one of the rather comical collisions that are so common place in a game populated for the most part by men in early middle age and "mixed ability".

In any case, I can't say I was all that disappointed to be told that I'd need to rest it for a couple of days. The upshot was that I did no running at all in the week leading up to Saturday's Irish Runner five-mile road race in the Phoenix Park.

The timing of the lay-off was welcome. The previous Saturday, I'd done 12 miles for the first time and the whole thing had been a bit of a struggle. For the past few months, I've rather enjoyed the longer runs, as I feel a sense of achievement at setting a new distance for myself and then doing it. Clearly, this is a central part of the process of preparing for a marathon, whereas the short midweek runs always seem pretty skippable to me and I often struggle to haul myself out for them.

My first 12-miler, though, was a nightmare. The first three miles were passed as a battle raged in my head over whether I should turn for home and delay my weekly long run until the following day. During the last three miles, it was an entirely physical battle with dehydration, sore feet and exhaustion.

Though I'd never gotten anywhere near 12 miles before, my previous brushes with running have crashed in just these sorts of circumstances: a gruelling experience followed by injury and that's me finished for six months or so.

However, this weekly series has raised the stakes quite a bit and so, last Saturday at 10am, I was on the starting line in the Park.

Prior to the weekend, I had only ever taken part in two organised races as an adult, a three-mile run around the Wall Street area of New York and a five-mile circuit of central Boston, both while I was working in the US at the end of May.

These are learning experiences, recommended for anyone building up to a marathon and on both occasions I made lots of mistakes, primarily in preparation and pace. In Boston, where the race started at 8.30am, I had moderate amounts of beer the night before. Unlike New York, I arrived in plenty of time but then, precisely like my debut, went off too fast before almost killing myself at the end when I misjudged how far the finish line lay.

Still, I was well pleased with the 42.46 finish. I would point out that it was best of the visiting Irish that day (a fact sadly uncelebrated back here at home) except I'm not sure there were any others.

Seven weeks on, and what seems like a whole lot of miles later, I ran 38.50 on Saturday and I'm bit more smitten with the whole idea again. As I write this, however, my leg is trying desperately to catch my attention with a string of profanities. My answer is this: Let us spend the next two weeks looking at injury prevention and cure!

I know, however, that by the time the 10-mile run in this Adidas series comes around in a month's time, it will probably be my head that requires most of the attention again.