Colm O'Regan: Here are my tips for a successful marathon — everything besides actual running

Colm O'Regan: 'Once you apply to run a thing, THAT’S IT for your algorithm. The internet knows your story now. I am no longer fed endless ads for chair yoga where an AI-generated 60-year-old ripped Zeus transforms himself in 30 days using these five simple exercises.' Picture: Stephen Collins/Collins Photos

My favourite bit of the run was the bends. No matter how slow you are, the bend feels like you’re running on telly.

The crowds cheer differently; the camera angle is more dynamic. Someone was ringing a bell. Jimmy Magee’s commentary is in my ear. “John Treacy! The little man with the great heart.” I did two half marathons, so now you have to read about it.

That’s sort of the thing with running. No one asked me to do this yet somehow it’s also your problem too. One was in Connemara and one was in Dublin. Connemara had lakes, mountains, outstanding beauty but also a 4km hill that dropped me cruelly from the Peloton. No longer on the TV coverage.

Dublin has those bends and corners that allow you to dream of being a Kenyan. It takes you into the heartlands of Irish running. The northside inner suburbs. Places like Artane and Raheny. They have been running long before it was cool. When it was illegal. When posting a personal best could get you hauled off by the peelers.

There are long stretches of the Connemara one where there’s no one watching but you and your poor decision-making. But there are lots of people cheering at junctions too. And they must have travelled a distance to do so.

Because to paraphrase Boromir in Lord of the Rings, one does not simply walk into Connemara.

Once you apply to run a thing, THAT’S IT for your algorithm. The internet knows your story now. I am no longer fed endless ads for chair yoga where an AI-generated 60-year-old ripped Zeus transforms himself in 30 days using these five simple exercises. 

Now it is non-stop Kenyan and Ethiopian warm-up exercises and light jogs. The exercises look class. Synchronised leg lifts that would rip every groin, hamstring, and calf muscle that I have buried somewhere underneath the biscuits.

They are the people to take tips from. I have none. I’m not qualified to give tips. My stretching for Dublin consisted of putting one leg at a time on the bottom of a railing and vaguely leaning.

Colm O'Regan: 'That’s sort of the thing with running. No one asked me to do this yet somehow it’s also your problem too.' Picture: Stephen Collins/Collins Photos.

But I have tips for everything else besides actual running.

• High-five a child. You’re going to get at least 50 yards of a boost from a well-executed palm slap to a child who has been rejected by the runner in front of you. Extra points for the royal flush of high-fiving all the children in the family. But you can’t miss one or bad karma will cause your legs to seize up.
• Read the signs. There will be signs that make you laugh. And laughing has been clinically shown to help you forget the ongoing crisis in your body. There were plenty of personalised signs — it’s generally cheering on someone called Aoife or Rachel. This appears to be the name of your friend who is doing the half marathon. There are funny signs like “Private sign. Do not read” and “No one likes a fast finisher.” I’m not explaining that one.
• If you had any stupid notions about what an athletic body looks like, being overtaken by all shapes and sizes will definitely disabuse you of them.
• When the water is in cups, slow down when drinking. You’ll end up accidentally biting the cup and the water will just be in your ear for 20 minutes.
• Grab jellies when you see them. You won’t eat them, but it’s a great comfort to know you have sweets in your pocket in any scenario.
• If you’re a sap like me, you may feel teary. The sheer goodwill of people cheering on strangers doing a pointless run in their area will just gently drive you around the bend. In the best possible way.