2. The amount of gels. A lot of us use them, and wouldn’t have survived without that goo, but some people have so many strapped around their waists that their belts resembled Mexican bandoliers. Plus, that packaging takes like a thousand years to degrade.

3. The fancy dress on runners: the bloke dressed as a fighter jet; someone in a full, furry leprechaun outfit, carrying the head because his own head was already a red, sweaty mess.

4. The fancy dress on spectators: we spotted a rhino at the zoo, a Banana in Pajamas, several Roman gladiators, and some people standing at their front doors covered in smeared make-up left over from the party the night before.

5. The Spar parties. It has to be said that each shop put on a great display. In a year when the Dublin City Marathon had no title sponsor, the convenience chain did a good job in grabbing some glory.

6. High-fiving kids. Some say you shouldn’t get distracted by it; others thrive on it. We say that high fiving kids is always a good way to get into the spirit. The one high-fiving granny we encountered was a bit unnerving.

7. The banners: the “mortuary ahead, look alive” banner was perhaps the most commented upon, but we also liked the “Keep Running Stranger!” banner, while “Thank You Pheidippides” was one for the Greek scholars among us.

8. The barbecue at half way: great for the spectators, hell for the runners.

9. The crowds: it was hard not to run through College Green while thinking that this is a bit like how riding the Tour de France must be. Brilliant stuff.

The headline on our main piece in today’s Irish Times says it all: “Aching, blistered, bleeding, vomiting – and beaming with joy”

A couple of Irish Times journos did it. Here’s Shane Hegarty’s piece on the Wall (the personal one, and the ones used as toilets).

Roisin Ingle walked the course, setting out very early and being very cranky for most of it.

And here are just some of those who did it telling us how they got on (very well in all cases…).

There was the small matter too of the race proper, with Geofrey Ndungu defending his title national championships and fellow Kenyan Magdalene Mukunza the first woman home. The first Irish were Paul Pollock and Maria McCambridge.

And finally, here are some videos from the day.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Ian O’Riordan’s brilliant guide to the six key points along the route is a vital read.

Emmet Ryan’s “unfit runner’s guide to running the Dublin Marathon” is full of excellent advice on toilets and toes.

The Wheelworx blog has a very handy marathon checklist, which we’ve already printed out and started ticking off.

Here’s the weather forecast for the race, when…

“It will feel raw and cold to start with overcast conditions persisting for a time during the early morning. There is a risk of a few passing light showers.

However, brighter weather with sunny breaks will develop as the morning progresses.”

We’ll take that for now.

And here’s the route, which you’ll get to know pretty well tomorrow.

Click here to view the embedded video.

When did you start running and why? I started in April 2004, with the objective of that year’s Dublin Marathon in October. I hadn’t run since my Community Games days and never considered doing a marathon. However, I was feeling bored and aimless around then, so without knowing it I was ripe for a life-transforming challenge. Fortunately, before any mad religious cult got to me, I saw a news report of the 2004 Dublin Marathon launch and that was my “Eureka!” moment. Even more fortunately, I actually stuck with it and finished the 2004 Dublin Marathon in under four hours.

What’s been your biggest achievement? My marathon personal best is 3:27:58, run in Paris in 2007 – my only sub-3:30 out of five marathons to date. Also, I’ve managed to convert my running into a blog, Run and Jump, that has been doing quite well.

Any disappointments? Out of fecklessness and work-related stress I didn’t train properly for the 2010 Paris Marathon – I didn’t even bother setting myself a target time and just told myself that I’d amble along at my leisure. But just after halfway in the race, turning from the Bastille down to the river, I realised I was in for a suffer-fest of my own making, and when I finished in a poor time I was angry because I hadn’t done myself justice. Still, I learned a valuable lesson – a serious objective needs proper preparation.

Best thing about running? The sense of freedom and independence – you can go where and when you want, for as long or as short as you want.

One thing you’d change about running? I’ve heard plenty of experienced, sub-three-hour marathon runners talk dismissively of “fun-runners”. A long-time runner collecting yet another finisher’s medal for the pile – so what? The greater achievement is a beginner overcoming their self-consciousness and doubts, training gradually and regularly, and then proudly finishing that first five-mile race as family and friends cheer them on. And what’s wrong with having fun?

Where’s your regular run route? I live just outside Paris, in a hillside town called Meudon that overlooks the Seine and the Eiffel Tower. My regular run follows much of the route of the annual Paris-Versailles race – up the hill, around some quiet residential streets, along the roads through a nearby forest, then back down the hill while enjoying a panoramic view of Paris. It’s not bad, I must admit. And all the footpaths on my route are in tarmac, not concrete, which is a big help in avoiding injuries.

What are you training for? I’m currently tapering down my training ahead of the Dublin Marathon on October 29th. It’ll be my third time doing it and my sixth marathon in eight years.

What’s your goal? To enjoy the marathon and finish in one piece, with a new personal best.

Are you a morning or evening runner? Evenings during the working week, and mornings at the weekend or when I’m on holiday. I could never get into crack-of-dawn runs before work – my running route will still be there in the evening when I have more time.

Do you stretch? Yes. A good session of stretching after each run is essential if you want to avoid injuries. I stretch while the water is boiling for the post-run pasta.

Good or bad diet? Fairly good. Porridge for breakfast, a hearty sit-down lunch away from my desk, and regular doses of salad and water. Marathon running is entirely responsible for my improved diet. I’m a chocoholic, though, but rather than torment myself with unsuccessfully trying to give up, I have a small bit every so often.

Do you have a personal trainer? No. For my first marathon in 2004 I followed a beginner’s training schedule by Eamonn Coghlan in The Irish Times, which I’ve since expanded with ideas from Brendan O’Shea in Irish Runner magazine and advice from my physio.

What’s your average training week? I run five days a week. I find the two rest days are essential to recover properly. I overtrained for last year’s Dublin Marathon, with six-day weeks of more than 50 miles, and my physio convinced me that less is more. So, now I don’t go over 40 miles a week – midweek I’ll have a mid-tempo eight-mile run, a hard six-mile speed session that includes two miles around my local athletics track, and then a four-mile recovery run. At the weekend I have a long, slow run of 15 to 18 miles on Saturday morning, and a four- to six-mile recovery run on Sunday.

What do you wear on your feet? These days it’s a pair of Brooks Vapor 10 which I got at the start of my current Dublin Marathon training period. But I’m not hung up on specific brands or models – as long as the shoes are comfortable and hard-wearing, that’ll do me fine.

What’s on your iPod when running? I don’t wear an iPod while running and I’d encourage other runners not to. It’s dangerous, and it’s more relaxing to listen to the sounds around you while you run. Plus, I enjoy having random tunes pop into my head while I’m running. On one recent long run I had in my head for some reason the Liveline theme, which is surprisingly good as running music – the dramatic “1850!” and single thump of the drum, then the rhythmic “di-dumm, di-dumm . . . “. Yes, I’ve cracked.

Any niggly injuries? None at the moment. After last year’s Dublin Marathon and my overtraining before it, my right knee gave me problems for a while. But Total Physio in Stillorgan gave me excellent treatment and advice, which cleared it up completely. A ChiRunning session with Catherina McKiernan earlier this year helped me improve my running posture and keep injuries away.

Ever been chased by an animal? Thankfully not. Early in my running career I squished a snail and I reckon that sent a clear message to the whole animal kingdom. But small dogs on long leashes are a hazard.

Favourite running book? The First Four Minutes by Roger Bannister. His insights are profound, and his writing style is elegant and poetic. His sub-four mile isn’t even the climax of the book – the big finale is his subsequent race against John Landy in the 1954 British Empire and Commonwealth Games, which he describes in thrilling detail. If you’ve ever felt the urge to run or paint or write but never understood why, this book will give you the words to explain it.

Favourite running tip? Relax, relax, relax – get over your self-consciousness, shake out your work stress, put all fears of the marathon out of your mind. And have fun.

AIDAN CURRANS ’s blog is at runandjumpblog.wordpress.com

Because it is cheap and I have no earthly reason not to, I’m living at the moment in Budapest. Life these days is peripatetic, the entirety of it seeming to fit in a bag, and yet everywhere I go, running gear always seems to worm its way in there.

I don’t particularly like the idea of asking a burly stranger to spot me at the bench press, or any group of strangers if I can play football with them. But I can run easily, and only a part of the desire to do this is wanting to keep fit.

It also happens to be a terrific way to discover a new city. The acreage you cover, for starters, grabbing snatches of conversation in a strange tongue, smelling food, finding obscure nooks and parks, and seeing buildings from a quite different perspective to that of the walker, driver and subway rider.

Consider this too: until you are au fait with the layout of any new place, it is so much harder to be mugged while you are already running away . . .

Once you are familiar with your surroundings, some particular runs at your destination will emerge as firm favourites, and here, in ascending order, are my top five runs from around the world; recalled from memory only, and without the promise of factual accuracy (while I ran them, I was too busy wheezing and cursing to take notes).

What are yours? Anyone running in Beijing? Cairo? Moscow?

5 Margrit Island, Budapest

In Budapest, my few-times-weekly-run is around Margrit Island, a five-kilometre long idyll plonked in the middle of the Danube, between the cities of Buda and Pest. The interior is a blend of meadowland, herbaceous borders, outdoor bars and a water park. It also has an Olympic swimming pool, and though I do like to swim, my last time there concluded shortly after I was struck on the head by a water polo ball, flung by an Olympic athlete.

Now I run, on a spongy purpose-built single lane track that wraps around the perimeter. You get all sorts here, and in the evenings, there’s a great breeze off the water, when people come after work to cycle, take out canoes and, it would seem, expertly fling sports equipment at the heads of tourists.

4 Dover Heights, Sydney

As it is for all sports, Sydney is made for jogging. Around every corner is another breathtaking bay, and yet another succession of toned, tan joggers gabbing as they effortlessly rinse you on the outside. The run I best like to scuttle along, crablike, starts in front of Bondi Beach on Campbell Parade and travels the length of the beautiful strand before climbing through the ritzier neighbourhood of North Bondi and onwards to Dover Heights and Valcluse, each boasting properties of increasing altitude (and cost).

There’s a not-insignificant climb at the peak of this run, at which point you’re rewarded with a stunning view of the downtown area, from near Watson’s Bay. From there, loop around the head, back downhill and into Rose Bay, then pass the ferry port and turn left after Royal Sydney Golf club and climb back up to Bondi.

3 Hyde Park, London

The scene of my greatest ever athletic achievement, folks, an Olympic-distance triathlon a few summers back that I managed to complete before they pulled up the finish line and packed it back in the van (in your face, Daley Thompson). Naturally, this place is somewhat . . . touristy.

But the perimeter brings you past four quite different corners of London and plants you, psychologically, right in it. From Notting Hill Gate it’s a gentle descent down Bayswater to Marble Arch. Bearing right after it, you pass Speaker’s Corner, and take Park Lane along the side of Mayfair, and the Dorchester Hotel, where I always think of Richard Harris.

Right after the Green Park Corner, the gradient increases until you pass Knightsbridge (Harrods!), then drops slightly to the Royal Albert Hall (The Kinks!). When you reach Kensington Palace (Lady Di!), you’re all-but done, with a short uphill back to Notting Hill Gate, at which point you can be fairly sure you’re in London.

2 Silver Lake Reservoir, LA

Named not for the reflection of the sunlight on this vast body of drinking water nestled in the hills just east of Hollywood, but for the water commissioner, Hermann Silver. This place is, to me, a kind of heaven. It’s 3.5 kilometres around the reservoir, a sand-covered track for the most part which sits in the bowl at the centre of LA’s hipster neighbourhood.

There’s one crazy hill on the East side to keep you honest, and by day it can be just too hot for pasty Irish me to get around. I like to go in the evening, when it smells of jasmine, and when the workers run it, with their dogs, or walk it, smoking weed. I like the run around the reservoir in Central Park, New York, but here, I can’t help but think of “Chinatown” and the essential value of water to this city. The reservoir will be drained and replaced in two years, but for now, you can see homes designed by Richard Neutra, sense the palm trees that seem to lean in, and spot the occasional starlet, rollerblading in the company of her boutique dog.

1 The Phoenix Park, Dublin

It couldn’t not be mentioned. For runs in Ireland it was a toss-up between Curracloe beach, Sandymount Strand and this place. I love that this takes you past a zoo (with all the attendant odours), a presidential residence, a papal monument (and historical cruising ground), and overlooks Constitution Park and the Liffey Valley. And I love that it is almost exactly 10km around. This matters if, like me, you need to be the furthest distance away from the car at the point when you are most apt to want to quit. At 5k, faced with the choice of running or walking another 5k in ignominy, you may as well run, Forrest. I begin behind the Wellington monument, turning uphill and continuing west, parallel and above the Liffey Valley, which runs towards Islandbridge. After that you’re halfway there, and after that, you really know you’re home.

With only a few weeks to go to the big day, a bit of advice from vets is always welcomed. So, we took to Twitter and Facebook to ask for a few of the lessons learned while putting the hard miles in. We didn’t realise that so many would come back with one simple piece of advice: enjoy yourself.

Ray O’Mahony: Watch your pace, particularly at the start, have realistic goals, take on water at every station, just get from A to B and enjoy the day. Most of the hard work is done in your training for the day.

Peter O’Neill: If you start to suffer, don’t panic. It will pass. If you think you’re slowing down, increase your pace slightly. Your body may just crave variety. Visualise finishing and how great you’re going to feel. Above all, enjoy!

Fintan Lavery: Break it in to sections – four miles takes you to the park – another four miles takes you out of it, etc. Focus on one bit at a time . . . oh, and don’t listen to the people who keep telling you that you are on the last hill – they are all telling lies. Most of all, enjoy!

Joan Hogan Ryan: Yeah, I remember how good it felt to finish. At 20 miles my knee went out like a balloon. But there was no way I was giving up.

Kevin Coghlan: Good advice I got before my first one: the marathon only starts after 20 miles. Don’t worry about a slow start if you’re stuck in the crowds. Don’t race people at the start – you’ll pass plenty of stragglers if you’re going strong at the finish. Drink water before you start to feel thirsty, otherwise it’s too late. Enjoy it!

Paul Mitchell: Write your first name across your number bib. There’s nothing like hundreds of spectators calling your name out along the way when need a bit of a lift.

Brian Foley: I’m in week 13 of a 16-week training programme for my first marathon. Five sessions a week including a long run every Sunday. First 10 weeks were comfortable, the long runs were OK and midweek sessions were manageable. All change now that long runs are out to 20. Midweek sessions now really tough, even though they are no longer than the ones from a few weeks ago. It’s all new to me so don’t know what I’ve learned so far. Just stick at it, I guess. And losing some weight helps too!

Nan Carknee: Look the supporters in the eye and smile. They’ll respond by cheering for you louder, which will carry you over the finish. And I agree with Paul – write your name on your bib.

Dearbhaile O’Hare: Invest in black toenail polish, ladies – hides a multitude of war wounds!

Anna Boch: Love the black toenail polish tip! First marathon and can’t believe I’ve survived the long runs – have done the 20-miler as per marathon gurus’ training schedule, but really tapering off now and getting nervous I’ll make it to the end. Very excited, though; over 14,000 entrants – going to be some atmosphere!

Whiskey McSavage: Start your marathon slow and ignore all the people sprinting past – you’ll actually catch some of them before the end when they crash! Don’t ignore speed work – it really does help.

Sinead Hartnett: Don’t take a gel without enough water. Gaggin’ orange Lucozade sticky goo up throat last few miles. Shall never touch again . . .

BAREFOOT RUNNING has become fashionable in recent years, especially since Christopher McDougall’s seminal Born to Run was published in 2009. McDougall, a journalist, championed barefoot running and at extreme distances, taking inspiration from a hardy tribe of Mexican Indians called the Tarahumara.

His thesis was that modern running footwear, with all its supports and gel-cushioning, actually harms the foot. He also contended that the human being was designed to run for extremely long distance. Ergo, there is nothing more natural than running barefoot for a long, long stretch. His book has become something of a bible for barefoot-running enthusiasts.

Into that barefoot space, Vibram FiveFingers fits – literally and figuratively – like a glove. It is hardly a shoe, more like a reinforced glove that fits on your foot. It is the leading brand of what are described as “minimalist” footwear – the nearest the shod foot can get to being unshod. It has a thin, flexible sole (Vibram makes soles for mountaineering boots) and a soft upper with an individual section for each toe.

On a sodden Tuesday morning in Dublin’s Phoenix Park, Owen Loughrey gives a demonstration of this strange, hybrid pair of yokes. The Cork-based Belfastman had been running for years but was prone to injury and was beginning to find it all a bit of a slog. A friend told him about barefoot running and, his interest piqued, he bought a pair from Vibram online and his passion for running immediately revived.

“It opened my eyes. From the moment I got them I was blown away. It changed the way I thought about running.”

Loughrey, however, was put out that the shoe wasn’t available in Ireland. The company told him it had no presence here. And that was how barefoot.iewas born. Loughrey distributes Vibram’s range of shoes in shops and online in Ireland.

Trying out the footwear leads to a number of new experiences. Firstly, it is tricky at the start to get your five toes into the correct sections, and it feels weird for a little while. Secondly, you imagine it’s going to be hard on your feet but it’s far more comfortable than you imagine. And thirdly, you have to make major adjustments in running technique.

Many runners strike first with their heel before the rest of the sole hits the ground. With barefoot running it is the midfoot-cum-forefoot that hits first, with the heel going down after that. This takes a lot of adjusting, but barefoot enthusiasts argue that this is a more natural way to run. With minimum cushioning and support you engage all 26 bones, 33 joints and 100 muscles in the foot. That leads to a more natural way to run, prevents injury and makes the foot respond like a reflex muscle in the event of an awkward landing. It is a more gentle form of running – in Australia they call it “stealth” and “ninja” running because of its silent nature.

Loughrey hasn’t worn ordinary shoes in more than three years; there are also FiveFinger shoes in leather for more formal wear (the mind boggles!) and models for use in trail-running, mountain-running and watersports. He is convinced the trend towards them is permanent and not another slowly passing fad.

They do take time to adjust to, especially if you have flat feet. You start with very small distances (1k or 2k) and build up gradually. On the first spin, you will wake up the next day with your calfs on fire.

Some say that they are overrated and their benefits are overstated. There is no doubt that they require radical change in the way you run. A study by the University of Wisconsin for the American Council on Exercise concluded that if you want to run in Vibrams, you should be prepared to change your gait pattern.

I have used them a few times since and have found the experience enjoyable, but I’d have to test them more before making the leap. And it is a big leap, surely. At the same time a growing number feel it is worth it to make a leap that ends up striking the forefoot on the ground.

barefoot.ie

Athletes making their way up Strickeen Mountain, competing in the Helly Hansen Killarney Adventure Race. Photo:Valerie O'Sullivan

The second annual Helly Hansen Killarney Adventure Race took place last weekend and having been one of the over 1,100 participants, it’s easy to see why it’s become so popular so quickly. The race starts at Kate Kearney’s Cottage, the traditional starting point for a jaunt up the Gap of Dunloe, but the cobwebs are quickly shaken off with an 8km run up Strickeen Mountain. Saturday turned out to be a stunning day but there was a still a chill in the air and mist in the valley when my wave got underway at about 9am – ideal conditions really.

After that it was on the bikes for what can only be described as one of the most beautiful cycle stages of any Irish adventure race but also amongst the most demanding thanks to a series of short but steep hill climbs. Amongst some of the stunning backdrops were the Gap of Dunloe, the Black Valley, Molls Gap, Ladies View, and the Lakes of Killarney.

Not surprisingly my legs were in shock after that 35km bike stage so I was more than happy that the kayaking on Lake Muckross seemed to be a fair bit shorter than the 1.5 km advertised. Next it was another hill run – a choice of going to the top of Torc waterfall or the longer trip to the Devil’s Punchbowl, 50 metres from the summit of Mangerton Mountain. I opted for the shorter route but regretted it later due to the narrowness of the path (lots of stopping and starting to let people coming down get past) and the steepness of the route.

A short bike stage brought us back to the finish Muckross House and the much needed hot tubs to ease the aching muscles.

The mens 67km race was won in a jaw dropping 3:33:54 by Tim O Donoghue who has dominated the Irish adventure racing scene this year with victories in two WAR events, Gaelforce West, Achill and Dingle. The top woman was Fiola Foley, the former rower turned multi-sport athlete who lives in Zurich and got around in 04:28:54.

With a great atmosphere, stunning scenery and top organisation, Killarney Adventure Race has firmly established itself on the calendar after just two years. Lots of people are already looking forward to October 2013.

When did you start exercising and why? I started exercising a long time ago, as in going for walks with family members or with my baby (in her buggy).

I exercise more now because I was diagnosed with breast cancer last December. When my chemotherapy started in February I wanted to walk more because I was put on steroids and I heard that you can gain weight, which I did not want.

How has your treatment changed your exercise? It hasn’t changed it at all. I still walk at every chance I get because with chemotherapy you can be very sick and tired, which in my case did not happen.

I was never sick (only one time I was in hospital as my blood levels where low), and through my seven months of this treatment I had two bad days. But because of the support of my partner Carl and family members it was all a breeze.

What benefits has it brought over the past year? I have met a lot of wonderful people.

The best thing about the exercise? Walking gives me a lot of time – if walking by myself – to think and to tell myself things could be worse. I’m still here, so never look back.

Where’s your regular route? Clontarf and Raheny.

What are you training for? Because I’ve been diagnosed with cancer, and am only 27, my partner’s aunt asked me to do a photo for ARC Cancer Support Centre for a Torch of Hope Relay that is being held on October 14th. Me and a lot of family and friends will be taking part. We all go out walking as much as we can.

Your aim for the year? Be as happy as I can be and treasure every moment.

Do you like to get out in the morning or evening? Mornings are best if the weather is okay.

Good or bad diet? I have a fairly good diet, eating healthily. We are all allowed a day off, which is a Friday night for Chinese takeaway and a glass of wine.

What do you wear on your feet? Good runners.

What’s on your iPod when running? Sometimes I would listen to my iPod or have the radio on my phone.

Any niggly injuries? No.

Ever been chased by an animal? Ha, ha, no.

Favourite motivational tip? Be positive in mind and body and never look back.

The ARC Cancer Support Centre Torch of Hope Relay around Dublin Bay is on Sunday 14th October. A torch will be passed between teams, with cancer survivors completing the last kilometre: arcchallenges.com

Q thinks that when people see us running they say: “Look it’s Jerry Garcia and Danny DeVito out for a run. I didn’t know they knew one another.”

However, I think people respond to our wheezing figures with something more like alarm. “I saw you running along Clontarf seafront the other day,” a worried colleague once said to me. “What was wrong? Why were you running? Was everything alright?”

I started running on New Year’s Day 2008. Q had been running for a year. He already had the gear – a pair of women’s shorts, which he bought by accident, argyle socks and a heavy T-shirt documenting a team-building exercise he was once on.

I wear band T-shirts for my own band (I still have boxes of unsold ones) and light blue knee-length slacks I bought while on holiday. We both wear Asics runners because somebody recommended them early on and we’re fiends for the zeitgeist.

We like running. We have spent a lot of our four years engaged in this activity giggling – not because we’re high but because we’re starved of oxygen and dehydrated.

We run on Saturday and Sunday mornings because Q has a small child and wakes up early. Sometimes before we go for a run I have an espresso and Q has his first smoke of the day. Once, when pressed for time, Q had his first smoke as we ran.

After we run, I stop at the shop on my way home and buy a breakfast roll and a packet of Minstrels. I’m no doctor, but it seems to me that once you’ve run a few miles you should be allowed to eat anything. I have lost little weight since I started running.

As we run early on weekend mornings, I am sometimes hungover. Recently, in the health section of this very newspaper, there was an article about whether you should run when you have a hangover. I never read it.

“Maybe I should read it?” I said to Q. “What if it’s bad?” says Q. “It’s probably better that you don’t read it. You should leave it be. Things are good here.” I never read it and sadly there is no way to do so now (editor’s note: all articles from The Irish Times are available in the digital archive).

Although we have much in common, there are some differences between how Q approaches running and how I do. For example, Q likes to lather his groin with Vaseline to prevent chaffing. He sticks his Vaseline-encased palms down the front of his ladies’ shorts and has a vigorous rummage. He is happy to do this in front of just about anyone. Personally, I find it a bit less embarrassing to have blood running down the inside of my legs.

In the early days, Q was keener on stretching than me. He had a “friend” who gave him a whole list of different stretches to do. Some friend, I thought.

“My father ran for decades and he never stretched!” I said proudly. So nowadays Q doesn’t stretch either.

Recently my father said to me: “My back is killing me. Seriously, Patrick, it’s very sore. If I could change one thing about my life it would be to stretch more before running.” I was like: “Quit whining or I’ll put you in a home.”

Sometimes, when Q and I go to run in big races in the Phoenix Park, we do stretch because of the peer pressure that comes from seeing thousands of other people stretching (I suspect that we’d have been pushovers at Nuremberg).

So in the Phoenix Park we stretch, and we eat bananas rather than breakfast rolls and Q doesn’t smoke and he hides the label on his ladies’ shorts.

Q thinks people say: “It’s nice to see how Jerry Garcia and Danny DeVito have turned their lives around.” Then, usually at around the two-mile mark, a man pushing a baby buggy overtakes us and we think: “What’s the point?”