Tony Mangan: 2006 24-Hour World Championships

24-Hour World Championships 2006
Taipei, Taiwan
Tony Mangan

Ireland sent its first-ever team to a major ultrarunning championship for the 2006 World 24-Hour Championships in Taiwan on February 25–26. The team format allowed a maximum of six men, with the best three performances to count.

We had Galway's Richard Donovan, the North Pole and Antarctica marathon and ultra director. Richard had run a 100 km race in Antarctica a few weeks before and held the record for the roughly 600 km run from Malin Head to Mizen Head, from north to south Ireland. Marty Rea from Belfast ran 2:38 in the Dublin Marathon the previous October and, a month before this event, warmed up with a cracking second-place performance in a big 45-mile race in England. Eoin Keith, originally from Cork, was a tough hill runner, mountain biker and multiday adventure racer who held the Wicklow Way 50 km trail record and had finished second at the Tooting 24 Hour with a best of 198.5 km. I am from Dublin and had set several ultra records on the road, track and treadmill. We therefore had one runner from each of Ireland's four provinces. We decided the race would also serve as the Irish 24-hour championship.

The course was really testing: a 987-metre loop in a local park close to Taipei. It was near an airport, so planes were taking off and landing all the time. About 600 metres of the course was on concrete paths. There was a short, sharp hill; nine turns plus bends; and a narrow pathway where we ran parallel with the separate open 24-hour race for about 150 metres every lap. Later, during the rain, this area flooded and proved difficult because it was not easy to get past slower runners and walkers who were often two abreast. Several large bollards, covered with high-visibility cones, stood on the path just before the finishing straight. Slippery wooden boards covered potholes and drains. At one stage, a maintenance crew repaired one while we were running over it.

Humidity was about 90 percent and the temperature was fairly cool at the 10 a.m. start. Flags from the more than 20 competing nations were displayed around the course. At times the wind was strong, and it rained continuously for ten hours through the night until about two hours before the finish.

The Irish team all started steadily. Richard and I were running about 10 km an hour, while Eoin and Marty ran together about one lap per hour slower. We were gratefully aided by New Zealand team manager Sandy. The team tables were arranged alphabetically and, when Sandy offered, we asked if we could have our table shifted. Thanks, Sandy. I enjoyed meeting many friends from the ultrarunning community around the world, especially members of Team USA whom I knew and had competed against during my eight years living there.

In the early evening we were all still running strongly and no doubt doing well in the team competition. I felt I had probably started a little too fast. In my mind, I had settled for the “dream distance,” which had never worked for me before, rather than the “realistic distance” for 24 hours.

During the previous ten months, work commitments and injuries had left my training all over the place. Somehow, I kept the long runs going — about 30 to 35 runs ranging from 32 to 50 km. My training was such a mess that I lost interest in keeping a training diary. My construction work was very physical, and I felt this was also key. Most long runs were loops in Dublin's Phoenix Park. This park is surely one of the world's best city parks for training, with a variety of testing trail loops just a 16-minute run from my home and across the road from my running club, Metro St. Brigid's A.C. I often ran to the park, joined the club for a while, and continued alone. When injured, I ran very slowly on a treadmill.

In Taiwan, I used my usual race diet of liquid carbohydrate food, energy gels and electrolytes. I threw up just after taking a gel and decided to supplement it with bananas and the occasional energy bar. I also walked the short, sharp 50-metre hill on most laps, as much for a mental break as for recovery, using the slight downhill for further recovery. Sometimes, while walking up the hill, I felt myself swaying, almost as though I were running in my sleep.

At halfway, just as the rain started, I developed a blister on the middle toe of my left foot. I tried running through it, but that was not working. American doctor Andy Lovy lanced it, and I was out of the pit stop in two minutes. Thanks, Doc. Later I lost that toenail. The locals stayed out to cheer us through the night in the terrible weather.

I was still maintaining the 10 km/h pace. At the end of every lap, a ChampionChip recorded us as we crossed a mat beneath the timing clock. Local high-school students also provided manual backup recording. They were very enthusiastic; many stayed for the entire race and always had a smile and words of encouragement. I learned how to say “thank you” in Chinese, and it went down a treat.

I never knew what position I was in. A couple of hours later, my pace dropped to about 8.5 km/h. I felt sluggish, and it was very tough. Richard and I passed 100 miles in about 16 and a half hours, roughly 15 minutes outside his Irish record. We both wanted the Irish 24-hour road record of 209.5 km, set by Don McDonald in 1992, my overall track record of 213.6 km, and the Irish 24-hour road championship. We pushed each other hard. It would be no good for either of us to finish second.

Richard looked much stronger and was about a lap ahead. At this stage, Marty and Eoin encountered problems and began walking more. Eoin unfortunately had to drop out with calf trouble, while Marty took an extended break. Richard told me he was going to take a short break, and I built a five-lap lead before he returned. We ran together, and then he had to retire because of an old injury. Marty was running strongly again.

I knew the records were mine if I could just keep running, but it was hard mentally. Apart from about half a dozen bathroom stops, pulling on my windbreaker with its spare numbered Irish singlet, treating the blister and sometimes slowing to take refreshments, I moved throughout the race.

I find it hard to recall details exactly after a race, and these comments are my best recollection. Even if I noted the time at the start of a lap, by the end I would have forgotten it. I think I was running laps of about seven minutes.

With about two hours remaining, once I had secured the records, I asked myself what the punishment was for. Someone told me I was in 21st place. Then I realized I was wearing an Irish singlet, was lucky not to be injured, and wanted to make the record a little harder for the next challenger.

With 220 km possible and 140 miles a significant milestone in 24-hour ultrarunning, my best calculations told me I would finish about two miles short. Every time I passed the Irish table, Sandy and the boys cheered Marty and me along. Marty was running really well.

With an hour and a half to go, I pulled off the windbreaker and went for home. I could not believe it: from a tired, sluggish canter, I was suddenly lapping some of the best runners and quickly moving up the field. I never knew who was on the same lap or near me; I simply kept going with the 140-mile carrot. In the last hour, I was flying and often held myself back in case I blew apart. I managed my best hour of the race: 12 km. With ten minutes to go, I completed just over two more laps. It is truly amazing what the body and mind can do when given a challenge.

At last, the hooter sounded at 24 hours. We had been given markers for our partial final laps. After marking the exact spot, I was quickly given a chair and gratefully collapsed into it, just opposite the first-aid station. I limped over with the volunteers and had an old ankle injury treated; it had just reoccurred. Timing is everything, I guess. Two weeks later, I am still a little tired. I did a short run last week and was very stiff. I will probably start again tomorrow, as I miss it.

Irish Team Results

The Irish team finished 11th.

Nobody was more surprised than me by my 16th-place finish. Two more places were separated from me by less than 600 metres.

That night we went out for a celebration meal and visited a sports bar called the Brass Monkey. We had forgotten that Ireland was playing Wales in the Six Nations rugby tournament. The match was just starting, and we celebrated a great Irish win.

Before the race, we had avoided Chinese food for fear of becoming ill. The first thing I did when I returned to Ireland was order one for some friends, with a bottle of champagne.

Posted by Tony Mangan.