By Cian Blake

They say form follows function, or in other words, make something operate correctly and then worry about how it looks. Get the inside right then consider the outside. Seldom do the two combine.

Our columnist Cian Blake

Close enough may well be the Apple iPod. Containing (probably) the computing horsepower of the first few Apollo rockets, it has made real inroads into any starting crowd you have toed the line with in the last few years. Playlists and shuffle/repeat ensure it is essential kit for some.
And yet stripped of wicking t shirts, moulded insoles, orange carb gels and satnav watches, running becomes an elementary action, marked by the same few sounds and feelings over and over again. Snow dusted feet cracking silvery twigs and breaths ranging from deep even inhales to ragged bucketfuls of air.
It may be the case that the iPod enhances this, maybe even replaces it. It hasn’t been my experience. The weekend wrecking three hour slogs were certainly made bearable with the Ipod in my pocket pumping out distraction and motivation along the way.
Time units changed from minutes and miles to songs and length. Guns and Roses November Rain = eleven minutes and another mile and a bit clocked. Legs like cement? Maybe Sir would appreciate some live Underworld.
The hard road wins in the end though, and there came a point where the Ipod would be brought out but not used in the two or three hours. Flicking though 8,000 songs and not seeing one you want tells you something is amiss.
That point of no return is in the rear view mirror now and receding apace. There was a comfort zone I operated in for a couple of months where the music isolated me from the harsh yards of mile 13 or 16 or 20. Races stripped out the truth of training.
Miles 13 or 16 or 20 arrived not marked by an Ipod wheel click but by uneven breathing and heavy slaps of feet into tarmac, where the easy rolling pace had surrendered to a struggle to swing the elbows and churn the legs. This was the sound track of hard earned racing and an intrinsic part of running’s human rhythm.
It’s easy to forget this when the three cups of post race tea are long downed and the finisher’s medal is down the back of the couch providing entertainment for the cat. To remember though, head up the stairs, pull on the runners, and pull the door closed behind you.