'Sometimes I see these pictures of myself and I'm not so sure I'malways pleased with myself, but looking back over this stuff brings it all back, how we all managed to all run well on the day and get it together. It was one of the great days'

Back to London and back to business. Ciara is eating her favourite peanut butter and vegemite sandwich. Sophie is asleep. Nic (Bideau) is watching Manchester United wrap up a rare trophy-free season and I'm thinking of the World Half Marathon.

It's been a good day. Two easy runs. An hour in the morning and 40 minutes after lunch. Escaped to the garage for some sit-ups, did some weights and managed to meet Alan (Storey), my coach, for coffee at lunch-time. We agreed that, yes, it was true I'm going to Brussels on Sunday for this race.

I think Alan had been procrastinating about it for a while. He's keen to take things steadily. I figure now we've done the training we have to take a test.

I have to admit the World Half Marathon never even entered my head before. It's just a strange year in the athletics calendar, outside of the World Cross Country there's no other world championship events, so I decided I might as well give it a go. I don't want to just wait for the European Championships in the summer. I'm fit now so I might as well use that fitness.

The World Half Marathon is something I've never done before. Nic mentioned a while ago to me that it was on earlier this year. I was out for a run a few days later and thought about doing it. By the next day I couldn't get it out of my head.

Even at the World Cross Country in Dublin it was the furthest thing from my mind. Back then I just figured to do one thing at a time. Go to California, run a race there and stay on for a few weeks' training with the aim of coming back here fit and ready to run sometime, some place. But . . . the World Cross Country seems such a long time ago. We left for California a couple of days later and I missed a lot of the coverage afterwards.

Coming back to London this week, there were lots of magazines and newspapers lying in the hall. Looking through the pictures I can tell when I see them that I was really happy that Sunday. Happy to be there and happy with how it all went. Sometimes I see these pictures of myself and I'm not so sure I'm always pleased with myself after races, but looking back over this stuff brings it all back, how we all managed to all run well on the day and get it together. It was one of the great days.

The buzz from Leopardstown didn't last too long though. In America we went first to the sun and surf town of Mission Beach close to San Diego. I was down to run a 5km road race in Carlsbad on April 7th and after the cross country in Dublin and the road race in Balmoral I had high hopes for myself.

Deja vu. Woke up on the morning of the race all hot one moment, all cold the next. Didn't feel good at all but the usual story for me. I went for a little jog and convinced myself I'd be okay. I never felt good but I kept telling myself it would disappear. I should know by now that these things don't always disappear just because I want them to but . . .

It was a miserable day. Lagged around in the race feeling bad. Even afterwards I couldn't muster any interest in warming down properly. Some of the girls asked me to go for a warm-down with them. I forced myself to run around for 20 minutes and then gave up. Driving back to the house I was too miserable to even go into the chemists and Nic was dispatched to get something, anything, to make me feel better.

How bad was it? Well big breakthrough for me, I actually went to see the doctor on Monday. He told me it was more than likely food poisoning.

That was good enough for me. I'd been so low I was thinking of packing up and coming home. As it was I didn't eat anything for two days but then got back to drinking things and after a while discovered I liked eating again.

We were scheduled to head up to Laguna Mountain to our training camp the day after the race but with me sick and howling at the moon we put that back 24 hours. By Tuesday I was ready for my glamorous new life, living in a cabin on the side of a hill.

Laguna Mountain. Six thousand feet above sea level but this being America you just drive up on the freeway. When we drive to Falls Creek in Australia the road winds around, rising so quickly that you start to feel car-sick before you get to the top. On Laguna Mountain it's wide lanes of gradually climbing blacktop all the way and these big green signs every thousand feet telling you how high above sea level you are.

You arrive and there's the Laguna Mountain Lodge, tucked into Cleveland National Forest. Out front there's one of those little buildings that serves as a shop, post office, phone exchange, funeral parlour, whatever you need it to be. There are cabins dotted around and feeling like a couple of early pioneers we trudged to the two-bedroom model we'd managed to secure.

No phone. No washing machine. Time to use up some of the privileges of being an athlete. The San Diego Rock 'n Roll marathon sponsor had given us a Suzuki car for the duration of our stay. Next it was time to e-mail Nike with good news for them. We're stuck on a mountain in California and need you to send us summer clothes. Two days later the brown UPS van was spotted coming up the mountain. By then the weather had turned nasty.

Back down to send e-mail number two. We're stuck on this mountain in California, need winter clothes. Two days later another UPS van. It was almost worth bothering Nike just to have company when the UPS guy called.

One of the places where we ran when we were on the mountain was the Pacific Crest Trail. We'd meet the odd hiker making his or her way on the trail all the way from Mexico to Canada. They stop off at places like Laguna Mountain and pick up packages that people have sent for them. Then they head off again. It must be a nice life when you get up in the morning and the skies are blue but on the days when the wind cuts through you I don't see the attraction.

The last couple of days up there I was wrapped up like I was going to the North Pole and the little shop had a sign on the door "Hot Chocolate 50c". The four of us were up there for the first week by ourselves, exploring and getting used to the place. We took turns running. Correction. We took turns getting lost and running further than we'd planned.

Then Kerryn McCann, a marathon runner from Australia, came up with her sister so we had another face around which was a relief. Kerryn and I did all of our runs together and did some faster sessions also. It was really good to have someone to run with each day as we both prepared for the World Half Marathon.

Meanwhile, I kept in touch with Alan, I spoke to him a few times and we e-mailed each other. Alan is the voice in my ear that says "take it easy, be careful, avoid injury". It was good to be still getting his instructions. His big worry earlier in the year was not to try to push things too much too soon, but now that I'm back and fit I think he's okay with everything.

The countryside was fantastic. One day when I was out running I thought I saw a wolf but describing it back in the cabin to Daniel Boone and the other hardy outdoors people I was assured it was only a coyote. Yeah and I'm the road runner.

We weren't far from the little town of Julian which was once a gold-mining spot but is famous now for its apple pies, which we have yet to taste.

Unbelievably for such a small place, it even had a new all-weather track for us to work out on. Only in America. A High School track, six lanes tartan, black, forever available, out in this quaint little town. If ever you find a track such as this in Ireland, it's sure to have lanes one, two and three barricaded off, just in case someone might dare to use it.

After the first few days I'd practically gone native. I was trying to read McCarthy's Bar by Pete McCarthy while I was up there. Not bad,but I wouldn't say I couldn't put it down. One thing registered though. He has this philosophy that wherever you go, if you see a bar with your name on it you should go in and have a drink and read the local newspaper.

It might finish me if I went into every bar in Ireland with O'Sullivan over it but in Julian I took some of the advice and picked up all the local newspapers. By next day I knew everything that was going on in the area. I joined the library. Took Ciara down to a kids afternoon in it. How did you hear of this, said the woman when I explained we'd come down from the mountain. Aha, the local newspapers.

Overall it's been a good month. The training went well and I feel good. There was a big loop we could run, crossing from one trail to another which took us over 15 miles of country and I can feel the benefits of it now so I'm evangelising on behalf of Laguna Mountain. We hope to head back out in the middle of May and meet up with some Australian athletes. I've been trying to coax others up there. It's not easy to get athletes to come and train with you. Have sent e-mails out all over the world but the only girl remotely interested is Elana Meyer from South Africa. She says it might suit her between races.

My own plan is to head back to the US on May 15th and stay there till June 9th. I'll do the Prefontaine Race up in Eugene, Oregon (it's a Nike race so I want to race it, if just to ensure the UPS deliveries continue) and then I hope to run a 10km women's race in New York on the way back.

As for Europe and the Grand Prix circuit, it feels a bit like going back to the office after a holiday. When I come back I'll study Europe again, look at the Europeans and work backwards to see what I can do before I go to Munich.

I reckon this year I'm going to be a bit more picky about races, just pick out ones I'm keen on and ready for. I don't want to go out and get into races for the wrong reasons. I've done all that before. I want races that will benefit me for the Europeans or improve me as an athlete.

In the shorter term, fitness-wise I wouldn't be the fastest in the world right now but I feel really strong. Looking at the race in Brussels, I reckon for the distance we are covering and the sort of people I'll have to sprint against I'm happy enough. It'll be the usual mix up front: Kenyans, Ethiopians and, for this distance, lots of Japanese, who for some reason are mighty at this sort of distance. They have tons of good half-marathon runners and people I've never heard of are always putting in good times in Japan. They are usually quite diminutive too so I'll get no shelter behind them if it's a windy day.

It's a big weekend out for the clan. The four of us and my Mam and Dad are hitting Brussels. Ciara will be resting up after her first few days at montessori. Sophie will be ducking as Ciara attempts to feed her vegemite sandwiches.

And I'll be getting my head back to my job. Last night we watched the video of Paula Radcliffe winning the London Marathon. What a run she had. It was something those of us that have run against her knew she was well capable of. And while I must admit at times I do think seriously about going after a big marathon, at this point I'm happy I only have to go halfway this weekend. If I can run as fast as Paula ran just for the second half in London, I expect I'll be there or thereabouts.

(In an interview with Tom Humphries)