Over 150 runner lined up on the country roads for a great run just south of Oughterard. The leader from the start was the hotly tipped Abaas Adam Edris of Tribal Running Club who stormed home in a rapid 15:35. GTC man, Aidan Kelly was not far behind, finishing a close second in his age group on 18:36.

Shortly after was GTC’s James Brennan, coming across the line with the ladies winner, Julie Bradshaw of Galway City Harriers, at 18:50. Second lady was GTC coach Kate Smyth on 20:01.

The race was followed by an excellent tea, sandwich and treat reception at Oughterard GAA HQ. Described by one runner as “better than a wedding” for the sheer quantity of sandwiches and home bake treats.

Prizes were MC’ed by councillor Ollie Turner, and were presented by former Olympian, Mick Molloy (RIP)’s brother Matt Molloy.

1.⁠ ⁠FULL NAME:

2.⁠ ⁠BIRTHPLACE (and name other places you have lived) Letterkenny. I grew up in Ballyshannon in Donegal, moved to Galway with my family when I was 14, studied and worked in the UK and came back to Galway.

3. WHEN DID YOU JOIN GTC AND WHY? I initially joined GTC in the summer of 2016 and then rejoined when I returned from the UK. I joined in 2016 on the search for a new sport from competitive swimming after finishing university. When I returned from the UK I wanted a group to train with and the training offering has drastically increased from 2016 which has been great in the last few years.

4.⁠ ⁠OCCUPATION: I am a Specialist Physiotherapist in Pelvic Health at Pelvic Health West.

5.⁠ ⁠PREVIOUS SPORTS: Competitive swimming, surfing and surf lifesaving.

6.⁠ ⁠SWIM / BIKE / RUN – which do you prefer and why?  It has to be the swim having grown up competitive swimming. I feel more confident in the water than I do on the bike or my own two feet! I certainly have to work a lot harder at the bike and run.

7.⁠ ⁠FAVOURITE EVENT (CAN BE A SWIM/BIKE/RUN EVENT OR A TRIATHLON EVENT) OR FAVOURITE PLACE  TO TRAIN… I love the Mullaghmore Triathlon. It was one of the first triathlons I ever did and right on the doorstep of home home!

I love the GTC Aquathons for a swim and a run and a bit of race practice. It’s amazing what you can achieve each week and everyone is buzzing after!

8.⁠ ⁠SPORTING CLAIM TO FAME (Name any sporting achievement you are most proud of): London Marathon. I was due to do this in April 2020 and it got delayed to October 2021. I really struggled with the training (boring!) so I was delighted to complete it. We raised over 4k for Pancreatic Cancer UK in memory of my uncle and that made it so special.

9.⁠ ⁠3 MUSIC TRACKS THAT POWER YOUR TRAINING SESSIONS…  Sia – Unstoppable, This is Me – The Greatest Showman, Lose yourself – Emine

10. YOUR ALL-TIME SPORTING HERO(ES) AND WHY? I’d have to say Ciara Mageean. I think we’re so lucky to call her one of our own. She has always graced the world stage with such passion and pride and she is carrying that grace through her journey now.

12⁠ ⁠YOUR GTC HERO – AND WHY?  Miriam Wall – A little pocket rocket who is always so keen to create supportive and inclusive events and training sessions for the women of our club and beyond. I’d be lost without her in my role as GTC Women’s Officer.

FULL NAME: Include cringey middle names please?!
Gabriel Martin Walsh

. 

On Friday I built my bike. I had some trouble with the derailleur, so instead of standing in the sun for two hours at the Ironman Expo waiting for the bike doctor to fix it, I brought it to a local bike shop. That saved me a lot of time and probably stopped me getting dehydrated before the race – a good move!

I tested the bike with a short spin around town, dropped it into transition and got everything set up for race day.  I had an Italian meal and a McFlurry, then headed to bed.

I was up again at 4:45am, had chicken and pasta for breakfast and made my way to transition.

As I got ready for the swim, the announcer referenced the three mountain peaks we could all see from the lake.  He said to think of them as representing the three disciplines – swim, bike and run – and to take that strength with you throughout the day.

I positioned myself near the back of the swim start, as there were enough people setting off together and I wanted a calmer start. The swim was great. I finished it in 1:43.

The lake was beautiful – clear turquoise alpine water where you could still see the lakebed even two kilometres out, despite it being 10 or 12 feet deep.

I ended up swimming about 400 metres extra, so my sighting probably wasn’t the best! There was also a cross-current for the first 2km which made things a little harder. The last 800 metres, through the harbour, were much calmer and it was incredible swimming while taking in the mountain scenery every time I turned to breathe.

Then it was onto the bike…

After T1 I put on another layer of sun cream and took the bike conservatively over the first 90km.  It’s my strongest discipline, but I wasn’t sure what to expect.

I had nutrition alerts set on my bike computer every 30 minutes and hydration reminders every 15 minutes.  I also had the GPX route loaded, with Normalised Power and ClimbPro enabled so I knew exactly when the climbs were coming.

There were around 2,100 metres of elevation over the course, with fourteen significant climbs on each 90km loop.

The first lap went steadily enough. I wasn’t sure how difficult the climbs would be.

When I came off the first 90km loop, I realised I only had about 30 minutes to spare before the cut-off!  (That was my cue to put the foot down)

Knowing what was ahead, I pushed much harder on the second lap and made up valuable time.

A good tip for anyone racing there – the aid stations have sun cream available – you just have to ask for it.  I was pouring water over myself all day in temperatures touching 30°C, although it was generally around 27–28°C.

After the first aid station on lap two I started overtaking a lot of people.

I came off the bike with 45 minutes to spare before the cut-off, headed into T2, put on another layer of sun cream and set off on the run.

Now it was simply a matter of getting through the marathon.

The run started well apart from some back pain after spending over seven hours on the bike.

The aid stations were brilliant.  I used the ice and cold water to keep my body temperature down and managed to average 131 bpm for the marathon, which I was delighted with.

Physically I actually felt good, but mentally I was shattered from racing on so little sleep – and by kilometre 18, I could barely keep my eyes open!

I spotted a German family cheering in the park and asked if they’d still be there in ten minutes. They said yes.

So I got them to set a ten-minute timer, lay down on the grass and had a 10-minute nap.

That completely revived me and carried me through the second half of the marathon. Before that I genuinely couldn’t keep my eyes open – I was almost falling asleep while running!

I crossed the finish line in 15 hours 53 minutes and was absolutely delighted.

I signed up for the IRONMAN in October, joined Galway Triathlon Club in November and started working with Luke as my coach.  He was unbelievable throughout the eight months of preparation.

In that time, I went from being a complete beginner swimmer to completing an Ironman.

Before beginning the journey, 2.6km was the furthest I’d ever swam, and that was during my first open-water swim in Loughrea at the end of May before completing the Corrib swim.

To go straight into a full Ironman with so little experience was a huge challenge.

It was a beautiful but brutal course.  The scenery was absolutely incredible.  Maybe I spent a little too much time admiring the Alps on the first bike lap instead of pushing on, but overall, I couldn’t complain.

It was the trip of a lifetime and an unforgettable weekend.

1. FULL NAME
   Laura Daly
2. BIRTHPLACE
   Kilkenny
3. WHEN DID YOU JOIN GTC AND WHY?
   2024. I moved back from the UK and wanted to start training with people again and have the craic!
4. OCCUPATION
   Technical Officer at Water Safety Ireland
5. PREVIOUS SPORTSAlways been triathlon since I was 10.
6. SWIM / BIKE / RUN: Which do you prefer and why?
   Bike. I love being able to see a lot more than you would in a car. Also, nothing beats descending from mountains on a training camp abroad!
7. FAVOURITE EVENT OR FAVOURITE PLACE TO TRAIN
   It has to be Tribesman for the people and support! I love training around Connemara and Lake Corrib.
8. SPORTING CLAIM TO FAME: Name any sporting achievement you are most proud of
   19th in the world for my age group at the 70.3 Ironman World Championships in 2023.
9. THREE MUSIC TRACKS THAT POWER YOUR TRAINING SESSIONS
   My music taste varies depending on the day, session and mood!
   Pop vibe: Let’s Go by Calvin Harris
   Easy spins: Kingfishr-type music
   Hard sessions: Anarchy by Delta Heavy
10. YOUR ALL-TIME SPORTING HEROES AND WHY?
    Demi Vollering, for the passion and love she brings to the sport of cycling while also remaining grounded.
    Lucy Charles-Barclay, for her sheer determination and persistence through all the injuries.
11. YOUR GTC HERO, AND WHY?
    Karen Cassidy. Not that I need to even explain, but what that woman can do on a bike is unreal!

Everyone knows the quote, but how many of us actually know what it means?  Shakespeare’s Hamlet takes place in Elsinore, Denmark – which also happened to be the setting for our Ironman 70.3 event last Sunday.

Crowds lining the harbour are screaming.  Five hundred metres from home on the swim, I’m settling into the race, feeling good, when suddenly my right calf seizes.  Cramp! During a swim?!  This is a first.  And of all the places for it to happen – my first 70.3 – for reasons about to be disclosed, the most important race of my life.

Rewind to November 2018.  I’m 39, on crutches in the Ulster Clinic, Belfast.  My foot is so inflamed I can’t walk.  Relentless, excruciating pain.  I didn’t know it, but I was in the middle of my first flare-up.  Later, I’m diagnosed with Psoriatic Arthritis, a chronic inflammatory condition where the immune system mistakenly attacks healthy tissue, damaging, sometimes destroying the joints completely.

I started taking a cocktail of medication every morning, focused on getting fit – but running was impossible.  As a rheumatologist studied my X-ray, I asked him to give it to me straight – “Will I ever run again?”  He gave me a wry smile, “Well, you’re not going to be running marathons.  Maybe take up a new sport?”  I was pissed off, but took it on the chin.  The next day, I got in the pool and decided to teach myself how to swim.

Meanwhile, the medication (which works wonders for many people), wasn’t working for me – the pain suddenly spread through my shoulder, hand, sternum and clavicle.   My body was on fire.  I was close to breaking point when I stumbled upon a TED Talk by a physicist who had put his rheumatoid symptoms into remission through a wholefood plant-based diet.  It was an epiphany, but it would mean giving up meat/dairy/alcohol – all processed foods.  I gave it a shot.  But the initial phase of the diet was extreme and my weight plummeted.  I looked like a P.O.W.  My parents were worried sick, but my wife, Celine kept the faith.  For over a year, she’d seen how the condition had stripped me emotionally and physically.   She grasped that to get out of the hole I was in, I was going to have to crawl in even deeper, and hope I’d come out the other side.  And I did.

Month by month, blood test by blood test, my inflammatory markers fell, the pain gradually eased and eight months later, I was pain-free and eating something that resembled a normal diet.  It had been nearly a year off my feet and my running legs had vanished, but on the plus side, swimming had become my new obsession.  It filled the void running had left behind, but by 2020, I was moving again, and completed my first sprint triathlon in 2023, then another in 2024 – but I was injured before and after both races.  In fact, I was always injured.  Calves. Calves. Calves.  The bane of my life.

Last autumn, I heard a few club members were heading to Denmark for a 70.3.  Maybe a longer event would force me to slow down?  And maybe slowing down would finally keep me injury-free?  I signed up.  Andy Ainley took no convincing.  Elsinore was on!

Soon after, I was on the physio table again.  Trish looked at me like I was crazy. “Your third triathlon? 70.3…? Have you ever done a half-marathon event?” “Yes,” I replied. (I lied). “You’ll be fine on the bike,” she said. “The run is going to be your problem.”

I began training last September.  Every run was slow.  Painfully slow.  I was starting from scratch for what felt like the hundredth time – 3km runs at first, building gradually month by month.  No hero sessions.  No chasing times I could run ten years earlier.  And finally, inspired by Andy who was smashing 5km and 10km PBS, I made time to get in the gym and started doing the boring stuff – vital boring stuff!

There were bumps along the way – an unexpected flare up that took me out for sixty days in March/April, a knee injury that lingered right into race week.  Andy had been struggling too, shin splints, reduced running in the lead up.  Thanks to us, Galway’s physios had run out of dry needles, but somehow, by the skin of our teeth, we made it to the start line.

GTC teammates Lisa Fahy and Claire Heskin had been immense in helping us prepare, but the final few days were bordering on farcical: no sleep, entire days spent building bikes, hauling gear across Denmark, cancelled trains and buses that never came.  It wasn’t exactly textbook preparation.  But there we were, standing on the harbour in Elsinore, about to go to war with ourselves for the next five and a half hours.  We were both bricking it.

About 1.5km in, having navigated the tricky course and finally finding my rhythm, I started daring to dream.  I’m in Elsinore harbour! Feeling like a feckin’ dolphin!! This is on!  Then my old nemesis struck.  The calf!  Fully contracted, spasming.  It wasn’t enough to stop me, but under the churn of the water, it was enough to send my mind into meltdown…

THE SWIM

As the cheers from the harbour grew louder, so did the inner voices, “You didn’t do enough strength work! You’re going to DNF in T1! Injured again! Blew it again!!”

I pushed on towards the swim exit where two volunteers pulled me to my feet.  I took a step.  Then another.  Then, very cautiously, broke into a gentle jog along the blue carpet into T1.  Relief.  I was moving.

Transition areas in these events are enormous – and this was a clean transition zone, so instead of getting changed by racked bikes you first arrive into an outdoor changing area – hooks, race numbers, bags everywhere.

I grabbed my gear from the rack and took a breather, relieved I’d made it this far.  Then Andy arrived just behind me.  We’d done a relatively fast swim on tricky course and were buzzing.  So much for our game plan of taking it easy!

THE BIKE

The bike leg wound through the centre of Elsinore before heading out towards the coast.  It felt surreal.  Three hours’ sleep the night before.  Four the night before that.  Somehow, I was now racing through Denmark, carbon wheels, super bikes humming all around me.  I’d never been in an urban bike race before. It was a real buzz.  Mario Cart in Lyrca!!

A few days earlier, arriving in Elsinore, Andy and I had noticed how smooth the roads were.  We knew it would be an advantage, but this was something else…

Back home we’d spent months rattling along the road from Barna to Rosaveel, dodging potholes, battling headwinds and getting soaked to the skin.  Here, even heading into a gentle headwind, it felt like I was pedalling on air.  And the scenery was ridiculous!  Woodland.  Tiny villages.  Endless fields bursting with colour.  We were racing through a Monet painting!

At around 60kms, my energy and power began to dip.  With my dietary restrictions, fuelling is tricky for me – everything is natural: dates, electrolytes, water and maple syrup.  I downed some fluid, threw in some dates, and within 5kms, started to come back to life…

Going into the race, averaging 32km/h on the bike was the goal, so as I returned to the coast road, racing back into Elsinore, I was stunned to see my average speed creeping from 32.5… to 33… then up to 33.6km/h in the final stretch!

As I rolled into T2, Claire and Lisa were there – cheering me on – cheerleaders cheer, but these two had been so much more – they’d done everything for us in the days leading up to the event – support crew, advisors, planners, nutritionists.  For 48 hours, I’d been dead on my feet due to lack of sleep.  These two were the brains, unflappable problem solvers managing all the moving parts.  They got us to the start line – and every time I heard them cheering, it pushed me on.

As I swung my leg over the bike, the calf was tight but had behaved.  Mostly.  Now it was time to find out if it would survive 21 kilometres – my first half marathon.  This was it.  I knew my race was about to be decided.

THE RUN,

My plan was simple: start conservatively, ease into the run and, if everything held together, gradually negative split my way towards 5:00 pace by halfway.  But there were so many unknowns.  Not just whether the calf would hold, but what pace I was actually capable of running!

95% of my training had been long slow runs, a handful of brick sessions.  Very little intensity.  No tempo work.  No intervals.  Slow running had got me to the start line.  Now I needed to find out where it could take me.  One kilometre in, I glanced at my watch.  4:55 pace.  Not part of the plan!  I eased off slightly, but my heart rate was under control and I felt surprisingly comfortable, so I decided to stay here and reassess at 7km…

As the sun blazed down and the temperature climbed, I grabbed cups of water at every aid station, pouring some over my head, drinking some, Precision Hydration disappearing into my system at an alarming rate.  Probably too much.

For the first time all day, maybe for the first time all year, everything felt easy.  At 7km I nudged the pace down into the 4:50s.  At 14km I pushed again into the 4:40s.  Heart rate was steadily climbing, but I felt like I had more in the tank, so as I hit the last 5kms, I decided see if I could get into the 4:30s.  But then the calf started whispering.  And another voice entered the conversation, Trish’s words from one of my last physio visits – “If you try to smash this race, you’ll be disappointed.”   I listened.  And I backed off, staying around 4:45 pace.

Time to soak it all in, the crowds, the atmosphere, random Danes shouting my name as if they’d known me their whole lives.   Three laps through town, past Elsinore castle one final time.  And suddenly I was running down the red carpet.

I don’t know whether it was the lack of sleep, the adrenaline or some combination of the two, but the entire day felt like an out-of-body experience.  Six hours earlier I’d arrived at the start line exhausted, nervous, icing my knee, convinced I wouldn’t finish.  Now I was standing under the iconic Ironman finish line, a friendly Viking hanging a medal around my neck.

Then, spotting Andy, I beamed.  He had been battling injuries too.  He’d barely run in the lead-up.  I hadn’t seen him at all on the run course, so I knew he’d had a stormer.  When he told me he’d finished in 5:02 and I wasn’t far behind him, my jaw hit the floor.

5:15 would have been a brilliant day for me.  My watch read 5:05:15. I couldn’t believe it.  We just sat there for a while, reeling in shock.   Months of pressure, (of our own making!), had suddenly evaporated.   Our wives, Celine and Aoife, had endured every complaint, every wobble and every irrational panic during those nine months of preparation.  They’d earned those finish times as much as we had.  It was an emotional moment.  Not because we’d won anything.  But because we’d got there.

When Niall Guerin crossed the finish line, it was another huge moment.  After a traumatic DNF in Cork a few years ago, Niall faced his fear of open water in Elsinore harbour and overcame countless hurdles just to reach this moment.  Talk about bravery.

For all of us this was so much more than just a finish line – it was the culmination of years of hard work, setbacks, failures, picking ourselves up and stumbling forward…

Maybe that’s the point?   We don’t grow when life’s easy or we’re freewheeling.  We grow by enduring.  Persevering.  By refusing to give up.

The older we get the more crap life seems to throw at us.  We can’t choose the knocks that come our way, but we can choose how we respond.

Focus on the things you can control.

Keep going.

To be, or not to be. That is the question.

Ironman 70.3 Elsinore Race Report

The Ironman 70.3 Elsinore race took place in Denmark on Sunday 21st June in ideal weather conditions. I was lucky to be joined by Andy Ainley, Colin O’Donnell, Lisa Fahy, and Claire Heskin. This was a significant race for me. In 2023 I DNF’d at Cork 70.3 after being pulled out of the water in which two other competitors drowned.  I was severely traumatised from what I experienced and saw during that swim. After Cork, I spent 6 weeks in therapy provided by Triathlon Ireland focussed on mitigating PTSD.

In preparation for this swim, I needed a complete mental turnaround. My coaches Jonathan Gibson, Aisling Lynch and Caroline Doorly, switched my mindset to treating this swim as a fun adventure, not a race. Previously I’d arrived at the start line shattered from travel and lack of sleep, but in the couple of days ahead of this event I prioritized rest and took full advantage of the convenience services provided by the organisers, so my head and body were ready to execute.

SWIM

Lisa and Claire calmed my last-minute nerves before I went into the swim box and focused on deep breathing exercises. I found myself looking forward to the start. I chose the last group, despite the chance of swimmer traffic, so I could take it easy and forget about pace. As I crossed the timing mat, another swimmer tapped my shoulder and said “best of luck out there man”. I returned the encouraging words and we both entered the water together, easing into a breathe every stroke to start.

The water was clear, not too salty and it was quite busy. I was surprised how many breast-strokers (moving well) and back-strokers I encountered. A few stopped at kayaks. Others hung onto harbour walls for rest stops, which folks need to remember, you are allowed to do, as long as you don’t use it to make forward progress. A few times I had to push pace a little to get clear of traffic. Eventually around the 1KM mark it opened out fully. The course constantly changed direction, so I made good use of Luke Canavan’s practice sighting drills from the club pool sessions. His sessions had provided training consistency in preparation for Elsinore.

My main goal was to just regulate my breathing and make swim from start to finish without pausing. That objective was completed when I exited after about 50 minutes. I was wobbly on mat but the sense of relief in my body and internal elation I cannot describe – I was like – yay – job done, now onto the next step of the adventure! I ambled around Transition 1 at the pace of a turtle putting plenty of sun cream on.

BIKE

Off I headed onto the bike course…

Again, I was focused on enjoying the experience, rather than racing. Initially I found myself going fast, so dropped pace. I headed out of the town and up by the coast. I couldn’t get over the views and the incredible road surface.

The marshals and volunteers were great, cheering us on at various turning points and I made sure to thank them as I passed. I was hungry already, but had packed sufficient supplies of bread and jam from the hotel breakfast. I had pinned the aid station stop distances sticker to my bike food box, and at the first 22km stop I inhaled Maurten carbohydrate bars and bananas, which were incredible fuel. I was also glad to swap out one of my old water bottles for an Ironman Precision Fuel and Hydration one – important to get swag!

After the 46km food stop I heard my name shouted from a guy I didn’t know – “Niall, how’s the goin’…don’t worry, you don’t know me!”. Barry from Cavan made me laugh out loud.

Later during a particularly quiet stretch, four motorcycle marshals suddenly appeared behind me and it was like having watchful guardians on my tail. When I pulled up at 66KM, they stopped too and stayed waiting, as I munched bananas and drinks and started rolling when I rolled off.

Eventually they dropped away and went behind another cyclist. I cruised in once I was past 70KM, and skipped into transition relieved there had been no mechanical issues on the bike. Now both the swim and bike adventures done, I was into the home stretch.

RUN

I took another long transition in T2, keeping in my mind, don’t go hard on the run. I sweat a lot, so knew cramping was highly likely if I let myself go. I dropped to my LSR pace after testing a few training paces to start. Andy, Claire, Colin, and Lisa were shouting encouragement. I thought – wow – the guys are finished early! This gave a huge lift just hearing their voices. The supporters in the town lining the streets were incredible. They weren’t just encouraging, they were screaming. The diners, outside drinkers, and fellow participants who had finished hours earlier, were out clapping and cheering all of us remaining folks out there going much slower.

As I hit 16KM I started to feel very tired. A guy with a large speaker playing metal music who had cheered me every lap hopped down off the wall and started jogging along side me roaring words of motivation. I felt like somebody had plugged me into a charger. He stayed with me for about 400m making me laugh really hard. This, in turn, got the outside diners at a bar I kept passing cheering and laughing. I made sure to clap, cheer back and shout a simple “thank you”.

As I headed for the final lap, I did what I always do if my body is overloaded on a run – I allowed myself 30 second walking intervals. This floors my HR and allows me to slowly pick up a better pace. Myself and another runner asked a marshal to spray us with the hose for the final stretch home. I had my last bits of fuel and steadily picked it up for the final few hundred metres. The gang  were cheering and I was so happy to get my finisher medal, see them, and hug them.

Post Race Thoughts

I came into this event carrying body trauma in the swim and looking to exorcise a demon that had essentially haunted me for three years in the water. I’m under no illusion I’ve still work to do in bad open water conditions, but when Andy asked me over drinks afterwards how I felt – I replied truthfully “on cloud 10”.

I am so glad I was able to hang out with the gang after the event and enjoy the moment. We went to Copenhagen, had a relaxing boat trip, laughed and chatted in saunas, drank in the sun, visited a Banksy exhibition, and ate ice-cream before swimming in the gorgeous public swimming areas.

The positive energy from this kind group was amazing and as I had said before in the newsletter in the past, I’m extremely grateful to have such people in my life.

I had wanted to come out of this saying I enjoyed it, all three parts, not just a bike or a run and I can honestly say that, so I’m extra happy. I’m now going to take it easy for the second half of the year and just train and socialise with this fantastic club.

Targets for the day were to remember what Neil Campbell says, don’t fall off the pontoon, eat and drink properly, get into new Fizik shoes quickly, roll the 58×12 gear on descents, overtake politely, hit 4:20 min/km on the run as quickly as possible and finally win the 65+ Age Group. Oh, and enjoy the magic atmosphere of course.

This was my 9th race this year between Duathlons, Cycling Timetrials and Triathlons and training is going well with an improved swim stroke helping out. Starting in Wave 2 was great with less of a crush at the first marker and allowed me to concentrate on keeping the arms going. The pontoon arrived and what a power session for the marshalls! I cleared the exit on air and through the woods ready for transition. Garmin button pressed, glasses on, helmet tightened and away on the best bit for me, fishing, catching the better swimmers. Lots of encouragement from the super marshalls helped get the legs going and the rolling roads near the start flew by. I have trained on this road since the late 1970s and although it has straightened in several places the general route is embedded in my legs. The Moycullen bypass has new challenges even if we no longer go up the drag into the village. The wind was very gentle and allowed steady progress in my TT position whilst remembering to hold something back for the drags near the end. Those cones at the traffic lights were a great help and the transition 2 loomed. Shoes, toe cramps, elastic laces, tick tock tick tock, don’t swear! Talc helps and I was off with legs still trying to pedal. ‘Only 5km’. Right, get the legs working and settle down to target pace. I convinced myself that the first km was ‘downhill’ and managed to hit pace whilst focussing on the next runner ahead. Down to engineering, under the bridge and the rest was the home run. That little bump bridge knocks off some pace and isn’t it time the Uni put tarmac on the path for better grip….amazing what comes to mind when pushing home at high pace. Wasn’t the river beautiful? Marshalls again reminded you that this was a home event with local walkers wondering what was going on. Round the pitches and I could see Michal, a Westside Eagle ahead and the gap was less than that between waves so I was well on target with time. Around the meadow and into the home straight with all targets ticked but one. Was there any other fast old man in the field? Giving your all is the best you can do so if there was another then fair play to them, they’ll have earned it.

Recovering from this effort takes time with getting your heart back to normal a high priority, it certainly was not fluttering now. The cup of tea helped from yet another great volunteer and I was glowing in the feeling of another job well done. Time to chat, clap finishers, thank volunteers whilst basking in the pride of wearing your club kit at such a great and well run event. Hearing your name called out as an age group winner is a reminder that those early morning swims, wet days squeezing water out of your gloves on the bike and repeating lung busting fast 400s are all worth it in the end. The final target ticked off.

My mind doesn’t take long to start thinking about the next race in Wicklow and what my new targets will be for another day at the races. Thanks again to everyone involved in this event and allowing us all to live out our dreams and keep our hearts fluttering.