Not born to run
Edwin McGreal
Is it possible to libel an entire island?
No. Good. Because I want to declare my hate of Achill Island. Hatred of its hills, of its wind and, most especially of its people who told me the last three miles of the Achill Half Marathon were downhill.
Imagine my horror so last Saturday when I got to the ten mile mark and all I saw was climb after climb after climb. Into the wind. Queue hitting the wall.
‘Don’t believe the Achill people when they tell you the last three miles are downhill’.
It was good advice but of course I didn’t heed it. It was two months ago a man well used to running the Achill Half Marathon told me that.
But cometh the hours cometh the naive Breaffy man. I don’t know what it is about the people of Achill. They must have a penchant for sadho-machicism. Because the mental pain on Saturday was something else.
We started off reasonably well and at the seven mile mark, I was doing a half-decent time (58 minutes) and felt there was more left in me.
Then came the hill after Masterson’s in Dugort. Get to the top of that, turn left, and another hill. Those hills, unexpected as they were, were still surmounted and I told myself ‘get to ten miles and sure the last three plus miles are downhill’.
Trouble was I got to the ten mile mark with my legs like jelly getting ready for the recovery on the downhills when all I could see on the horizon was climb after climb after climb. Damn locals!
It was at about ten and a half miles that my legs gave up. Or else I did. But when I stopped for a call of nature, I couldn’t actually run again. So I had to do the one thing I swore I wouldn’t do – walk.
For about a mile and a half I limped along, asking myself why I put myself through such mental and physical anguish. And cursing the locals.
Finally we saw the downhills – well after the 12 mile mark and I managed to go from a walk to a far from stylish jog. And, from God knows where, I found a late burst to beat work colleague Anton McNulty on the line by a second. Two hours, two minutes and nine seconds was the time.
Three more Mayo News folk weren’t far behind. Shelly O’Neill put the minor matter of no running training to one side to follow us in five minutes later and advertising executives Sineád Keane, who gave birth to her second daughter this year, and Helen Carey showed incredible will to finish not long after us despite little training.
I hope they are able to move better than I am today.
A word to the organisation of the event - it was top class. It might even tempt me back next year. And I won’t be heeding any local advice.
