An Irishman's Diary

AT SANTRY’S Morton Stadium on Saturday, I got talking to a man who, like myself, is a born-again runner. He too went back to the sport in his mid-40s, although there the similarities end. Runner reincarnation can be a bit of a lottery in my experience. And for no good reason, he seems to have been reborn in much better shape than I was.

Among other things, he has since run 10 miles in under 60 minutes, a feat that defies most twenty-somethings, never mind me. Meanwhile, despite such heroics, he still has enough energy to concern himself about a lack of fitness among the population at large, which he worries will be a bigger problem, long-term, than the national debt.

His fears were underlined in London’s ExCel Arena last month, where he was appalled by the contrast between Katie Taylor and her supporters, many of whom were ordering two pints of beer at a time (to save on the exercise involved in going to the bar), while wearing skin-tight Irish jerseys that emphasised the bellies they were working so hard to build.

In his own modest way, my friend is trying to do something about this. I was writing here a while ago about that famous Irish phrase “losing the run of ourselves”, something the entire nation is supposed to have done during the boom years, and of how the expression is only ever used in the negative sense.

Well, my friend is about to prove me wrong on that. Under the umbrella of the Business Houses Athletic Association (BHAA), which also organised the Santry event, he’s helping to stage a race called the “Finding the Run of Ourselves 10K”. It takes place in Dublin this coming Saturday, starting and finishing in Firhouse (unless the field gets lost en route).

ANYWAY, WHILE WEwere chatting about this and other things, a remarkable spectacle unfolded around us on the Morton Stadium track. It was a mile race, part of a series by the BHAA for runners of all ages and standards. But what was interesting about this particular instalment was that one of the participants was running backwards.

I had heard of this guy, as it happened. Garret Doherty is his name and you may have read about him in this very newspaper last month. Among other things, he’s a world champion in the backwards 3,000 metres, and he broke his own world record for the reverse mile earlier this summer, when shoulder-blading the tape in six minutes, 57 seconds.

In fact, he had already conducted a mini-workshop at Santry on Saturday, coaching a group of volunteers in a retro-run on the field in the middle. But nothing quite prepares you for seeing a backward miler going at full pace around a 400m track.

It was a surprisingly graceful spectacle, for one thing. Imagine a gazelle running backwards, perhaps while trying to negotiate with a lion. Doherty was also surprisingly quick.

The mile races all had staggered starts, with the lower grades off first and the higher ones following at intervals. For practical reasons, Doherty had to start last of all in his race and was unlikely to improve on that position.

Even so, he wasn’t disgraced in forward-running company. In fact, during the first lap, he was like a mirror image of the runner immediately in front (or should that be “behind”?) him. It was a profoundly strange thing to see.

DOHERTY IS PARTof a small but growing global movement of retro-athletes, which now inevitably includes a hill-running variety. In fact, uphill is a good way to start backwards running, since you don't have as far to fall if you trip. Running downhill backwards, by contrast, is not for beginners. You're advised to perfect a rolling-fall technique before even attempting it.

As for backward running in general, enthusiasts like Doherty rhapsodise about its cardiovascular and calorie-burning effects. They argue that it helps with injuries too. It even improves posture, apparently.

Whether it will be the next big thing I don’t know. But I can see its uses. Postmen could probably benefit being able to run backwards fast. If the dog caught up, they could kick it mid-stride.

Rugby players might want to try it too. Going backwards at speed into contact could revolutionise the sport, or at least reduce the number of knock-ons.

Retro-running would also help eliminate a problem I encountered in my own race on Saturday. We had just finished lap one, the point where the initial adrenaline surge evaporates and everyone starts reflecting on the horror of the three laps remaining. The result was a melodeon-effect as the field contracted, during which a runner behind clipped my heel.

This couldn’t have happened had we been going backwards, as I say. But it wasn’t all bad. Although I haven’t done any serious work yet on my falling technique, I managed it quite well – going from vertical to prostrate in under half a second, which was surprisingly quick for a man of my age.