Dublin. YES! I love Dublin. Last year I spent a week for
Spring Break in Dublin. It ruled. This trip ruled. Dublin rules. That’s a whole
lot of ruling going on.
The train ride to the airport in Stockholm was pretty
uneventful. Just the usual 2.5 hour trip I’ve taken a couple of times now. And then once I arrived at the airport
I had about 4 hours to kill. I spent that time writing the previous blog
entry. Yes. It’s been written for
weeks and it took me this long to post it. Sucks to suck I guess.
What didn’t suck was my lunch.
Now I want to use these next couple sentences as a tip to anyone who
wants to travel and needs a meal with good bang for your buck. McDonald’s Happy
Meal. Or really any happy meal in general. Seriously.
Burger. Milk. Carrots. Fries. All for the price of like 2 burgers. Can’t
beat that. Plus. You get a toy! God I love toys!
 |
| Despicable Me Minion whistle! Way cooler than a Max Jump Rope! |
After lunch I decided it was time to check in for my
flight. Didn’t realize my passport
got stamped when I left Sweden as well as arrived. Hell yeah! Fill up dat
passport! Well one stamp won’t
fill it. But I’m on my way! Maybe someday. Upon boarding I soon realized that I would be sharing my
aisle with a mother, her 5 year old and her 2 year old. Oh boy. Dear children.
Please don’t scream the entire flight. I at least got the window seat, so that
ruled. I quickly pulled out the
iPod and settled in. Hoping to not get drooled on. Sharing the aisle with them turned out way better than ever
expected. Why you might ask? We’ll
let me tell you. 1.)The kids never
screamed. 2.) I never got drooled on. And 3.) Every time the mom gave her kids
candy she offered some to me as well. Oh. Hell. Yes. I freaking love candy!
Excuse me ma’am I think your baby is about to cry. Might want to give her a
lollipop(or lolli as she said). Oh you offer me one as well. Why yes I would
love one! I’m real surprised I didn’t get abducted as a child. Maybe I did and
I’ve just been living a lie my entire life. Nah. That nude photo of me in the tub as a baby at home for
sure proves I wasn’t abducted. The rest of the flight I just talked with the
mom about my previous trip to Ireland and the country in general. It ruled. The
Irish rule. The ruling keeps continuing.
Once at the airport, I realized for the first time(and
probably only time) how much it rules to be one of 3 non-European fliers on a
European flight. Can someone say no line for customs? Excuse me everyone while
I walk by you and enter this glorious country. Why am I here you ask Mrs. Irish
Customs Agent? Pleasure. Its always a pleasure being in this country. Thanks
for the stamp. I’ll be on my way. Seriously. It was that easy. And the customs agent was super nice.
Keep it comin Ireland.
I took the airport shuttle to the hotel(the hotel which I
didn’t have to pay for. Boom). I step out of the shuttle and there’s the meet
director. Awaiting my arrival.
Hell yeah. What is this Hollywood?! He was super friendly and just as
excited for me to be there as I was. Though Ima call his bluff on that one. I
was for sure way more excited than he could ever be for me to be there. I’d put
money on it. I then checked into
the hotel, grabbed my info packet and headed up to my room. In the elevator I met another American.
He was an 800 runner from Chicago.
Declan Murray. Super good. Super friendly. ‘Merica!
After organizing
all my things, I watched a little TV before going out to do my premeet. While I was watching TV, my roommate
for the meet arrived. His name was
Loan Zaizan. He was a miler from Romania. RAD! As soon as he walked in he
introduced himself, and immediately informed me he was awful with English. All right. Sign language and grunts it
is. It actually didn’t turn out to be that much of a problem. Could be because
we didn’t say much to each other, but either way it went smoothly. After the introductions he went on his
run and I went to do my premeet.
The track was about a quarter mile from the hotel across this pretty big
park. I had planned to walk, but
upon leaving the hotel the meet director spotted me and offered to give me a
ride in his BMW. Sure why not! I
was quickly reminded how awesome riding/driving on the opposite side of the
road is. We should have one day a
year in America where we do that just for the lawls. Seriously. Its sooo
fun.
I did my usual premeet routine and met a few of the Brooks
Beasts(a pro training group based in Washington) runners including Riley
Masters. He ran for Maine during most of my time at UVM, so it was pretty cool
to see him over here running and still doing super well. I spent a good amount of time talking
to Mark Wieczorek as well. People probably don’t know him(and after my description
probably still won’t), but he was the one who wore the striped American Eagle
V-Neck at the Olympic Trials because he was unsponsored. He got a bunch of publicity for that
and ended up signing with Brooks. Note to self. Do that. Well first make
Olympic trials. Then do that. End note to self. After premeet I went back to
Noel(the meet director. How awesome of a name is Noel?!) and he introduced me
to a few of the members from the Clonliffe Harriers AC(the club sponsoring the
meet). They all ruled. They were just a bunch of guys who
didn’t run anymore, but loved this meet and track more than anything. Jolly
group of guys they were.
Noel gave me a ride back to the hotel and on the trip we
talked about running in Ireland and the club running culture Europe seems to
have. He had it all figured out
that if they could get kids interested in track by age 14, they would usually
stick around the sport. That’s why
the club had such a large youth membership. Any time after 14, he explained, kids would be starting to
get into girls(and guys), alcohol, and cigarettes. Then they’d get fat and not
want to run. If they were part of
the club before then, at least when they got into all that stuff, they’d still
be running and that was cool with him.
Either way. USA. Step up the club running game.
Dinner was a catered meal in the hotel. Chicken. Potatoes. Pasta. Veggies.
Goodness. Hell yeah! Get in mah
belly! During dinner I sat with Craig Miller, a few of his friends and his
agent. Nic Bideau. Nic started the Melbourne Track Club in Australia and is
most known for coach Craig Mottram, back when Craig was the shit. Now Nic just manages a bunch of
athletes. I bring this up because
A.) He’s a rad dude and B.) he had a lot to say on the recent doping positives
in our sport. We spent a good
majority of the time talking about that.
It was cool to hear all his stories and thoughts about the subject. A lot of things you don’t hear in the
mass(well track and field mass) media.
Plus his Australian accent made all his jokes funnier. As cool as that was. I wish that
conversation didn’t have to exist.
Dear really good track runners. Stop doping. Mitchell has spoken. After dinner I headed up to my room.
Wished Loan goodnight. (He had no idea what I said.) And then got some shuteye.
The next day I ate some breakfast and passed the time reading
in the park until lunch. Lunch was
in the clubhouse at the track.
Yeah. That’s right. Clubhouse.
Think country club. Except instead of a golf course. There was an 8 lane
Mondo track. Heaven. Lunch was sandwiches and various other
snacks. Including Digestives. I
FREAKING LOVE DIGESTIVES! For those who don’t know. Digestives are heaven in
your mouth. Better known as after dinner biscuit slash cookie type things. They rule. I grabbed a bunch to bring
back with me. Foreshadowing note.
They didn’t even last 24 hours. End foreshadowing note. I met a few more Irish
people. Including the announcer for the meet. They all ruled. Just like everything in Ireland seems to.
 |
| Da Club. |
 |
| Clubhouse view of the track. Glorious. |
After lunch, Declan and I headed to the local Starbucks to
kill some time. We compared our
college programs and discussed post collegiate running. Its cool to hear the different ways
people make running in Europe work.
Note to self. Do this again someday. End note to self. He has duel citizenship with Ireland,
so next year he’ll be running for Ireland. How rad is that?! I want duel
citizenship! Eventually it was time for me to head back and get ready to run.
Per the usual, I arrived at the track way earlier than I
needed to. So I spent the time
watching Paralympic discus.
Seriously. Coolest event I
have ever seen. They sit on the
stool in the middle of the ring. Strap themselves in. And just huck the disc as
far as possible. Epic. Europe keep
on keeping your meets awesome. We in the USA will just continue being way
behind you. After watching the
discus and the start of the pole vault, I headed in to start warming up. Dear Ireland. I’ve come to party.
 |
| Indoor warm up strip? Solid. |
The meet was super official. Right down to confiscating all
electronic devices( and storing them in a box) to taping over the logos on
water bottles. We had to be at our call room at exactly 6:46, so we could go
out to the track at 7:00, to be ready to run at 7:10. We ended up going out to the track at 6:55. Oh shit. Call
the police! Just kidding. They were there enjoying the meet. No need to call. The 400 hurdles was the first event in
the main program, so the stands were pretty packed. Which was a really cool feeling. I also got to hear the opening ceremony, which included the
Irish National Anthem. In case you were wondering. It isn’t Oh Ireland(sung to
the tune of Oh Canada). Eventually
it was time for my race. After
going through all the announcements and hearing runners to your mark. (Which
was in English. Irish Accent English. Hell yeah.) It was time for the party to
begin. And as I sit here writing
this, I am still waiting for that party to begin. Heres a video taken from FloTrack Ireland. Side note.
FloTrack Ireland exists. Weird. End side note.
Right from the start I just for some reason made mental
errors. Coming off 1, I came down
flat and then 2 and 3 were sloppy.
I spent the rest of the race trying to catch up. Eventually was 4th
after the final hurdle. Then faded back to 7th. I actually thought I finished 4th
and that there was an error in the results. I went up to the box and checked the photo. Sure enough. I
was 7th. Not 4th. Dang. Oh well. It was still 53.45. Which is makes this season
already more consistent than my collegiate season was. I’ll take it. After the race, I cooled down. And got
a massage. Oh yeah massage.
I got to spend the rest of the meet hanging around and
watching some awesome track. I met
an 800 runner from Canada who went to Dartmouth for 2 years. After talking we both realized we were
at a lot of the same meets and had no idea. He transferred when I was a junior, but my freshman and
sophomore year we ran against Dartmouth a lot. How I missed this guy is beyond
me. The meet itself did not
disappoint. From the 400 with Manteo Mitchell(the 400 runner who BROKE HIS LEG
running the 4x4 at the Olympics last year) to the 800 which was stacked.
Including Caz Loxsom, Declan, Anthony Romaniw(the Canadian) and Mark Wieczorek. To the Morton Mile. The meets signature event. This was why most people came to the
meet. I guess this event has been
run for like 8 million years. I
dunno. It was an epic race. Corey
Leslie ended up winning, but Riley led for 3 laps in the race. Everyone ran super fast. Including my roommate. He broke the
Romanian National Record! Hell yeah! I congratulated him after. He just smiled, nodded his head and
pumped his fist. I think he got
what I was trying to say.
After the meet, we ate back in the clubhouse and then
proceeded to spend the rest of the night there. Remember how I said tracks should have bars. Here’s another prime example. Seriously. Such a blast. I
met a bunch more Irish people. Including
one guy who was a 400 hurdler himself.
He ran an Irish hurdlers group.
The guy who won my race today was in it. He was the second fastest Irishman over 400 hurdles ever at
49.74. He only ran 50.04
today(which I think is the fastest race I have ever been a part of). This guy basically rejuvenated the
event in Ireland. And in the span
of 2 years took the guy who won my race from a 56 second hurdler to a 49.74
second hurdler. Gnarly. I spoke some more with the meet
director. And even though I didn’t run so well, he invited me back next
year. He almost insisted on it.
Seriously. Ireland. I love you! As the night wore on, someone broke out a
guitar. Taking this party from a
9.897 to a 13 out of 10. A bunch
of old guys sung classic Irish anthems.
It ruled. People(even if
they didn’t know the songs) joined in from all across the bar. It was pretty awesome to see. After a few songs, they handed the
guitar to the American Pole Vaulter at the meet(Jeff Coover) and he played some
American Songs. Such as. American Pie, Wagon Wheel, and What I Got. We all sang
along and had a jolly good time. Party on Wayne.
 |
| Why can’t this happen after every meet? |
Eventually
a few of us got hungry again. So it was time for a late night trip to a classic
Irish Restaurant. The only one
that would be open at 2:30 AM. McDonald’s. Riely, Hasaan, Caz, Ashley Higginson, Liam Boylan-Pett and I
all walked what felt like 500 miles to a Slick Don’s that was supposed to only
be 800 meters from the hotel. I
for sure am calling that bluff. It
took like 30 min to get there. But
after I had my McFlurry and Chicken McNuggets was completely worth it. Meeting all of these people so far on
this trip has ruled. And if any of
you are for some reason reading this right now(or any of the previous posts). I
am not going to apologize for how fan boy I sound during these posts. Meeting you guys ruled. And I had a
blast. End embarrassing
sentimental note.
The next
morning, I packed my things up, said good bye to my roommate and hopped on the
shuttle back to the airport.
Declan was on the same flight, except instead of getting off in
Stockholm he was transferring to Germany to run again the following day. We had the exit row for this trip. Except I didn’t luck out with the leg
room like the flight back from Belgium. In fact I got the opposite. These seats
didn’t even recline. Sucks to
suck. Except not because nothing at this meet sucked. After parting, I hopped on my train to head back to
Vikarbyn. One thing that sucked
about this trip. My ticket didn’t
have a seat number. So I had to move about 6 times. Which became super
frustrating. Until the final
time. Where instead of making me
move. A girl sat down next to
me. You know what that means. Time
to use the pick up lines.
Boom. I spent the rest of
the 2 hours deciding which one to use.
And then she eventually got off the train. So much for that.
Maybe next time I’ll man up. Probably not. Either way. Hands down, this
was the most fun I have ever had at a meet. Well aside from the trip to Florida for Nationals last year.
That ruled. And so did this. But in a different sense. Either way. This meet was incredible.
Track at its finest. From the people I met. To the races I saw. To the shenanigans
that were had. All around. How it
should be. Fun. So on that note.
Ima leave this post with a picture I saw when I first arrived in Ireland.(I
actually saw a banner, but took this picture upon leaving). I thought this only happened in the US.
And where the heck was ICP?!? Seriously. Where the hatchmen at?! I need my
Phamily!
 |
| WHOOP! WHOOP! |
No comments:
Post a Comment