Ard na Gaoithe will always keep things in perspective
Little did I know how the sporting day would pan out when I left my own Ard na Gaoithe for my Sunday morning long run through Ard na Gaoithe in Cong. What an amazing day, not a puff of wind, a beautiful sunrise, and the first feel of warm heat on an early morn. It rained last night so the greenery is glowing, everything is growing beautifully, everything is awake earlier.
I jog downhill from Lisloughrey (meaning fort of the rushes; they stand tall on the shores of Lough Corrib today), I have an elevated view, an awe-inspiring image that captivates me every time. There is a space, narrow but long, small but enough to capture you and implant a lasting vision, a glistening shine along the water, always a reflection, sometimes of sun, sometimes of the boats but always beauty, stillness, calmness, which magically transforms me in a moment and sets me off on a journey of exploration, because you want to see more.
A short trek in through the trees, out to the path, a fast downhill to Ashford Castle. Turning left, Lough Corrib greets me again, this time a full view of the water, of the Twelve Pin mountains, of Ashford Castle up ahead, its strong, grey stone structure representing a strength in history. I am full of memories, of stories, of many summers and of the pleasure of working in the leisure centre, a true heaven.
Trotting through the grounds, with each step brings new sightings, new beauty, new escapism. A ferret runs past, buttercups grow beside me, trails to hop along, the old schoolhouse, the equestrian centre and a couple miles in, the sign for Ard Na Gaoithe. It’s unrecognisable today still from Storm Eoghan, with hundreds of trees uprooted and since chopped down for the safety of all around, but while it’s a different place now, with that comes a new beauty.
One can see for miles, acres of trees still lie ahead, some need repair, some need to be jumped over, there’s new wildlife, new birds and new growth has appeared. I can run for miles through these beautiful trails but today I will turn from Clonbur, as a day of sport awaits. It’s Mayo v Roscommon, but even that will be forfeited for our daughter’s soccer final with Moyne Villa in Eamonn Deacy Park; it’s the biggest thing since sliced pan and the lads are told it’s her or Kobe today and they know better than to say Kobe! The excitement of a final, of playing in the stadium, the build-up, the practising and doing the right things.
She had a tough football match on the Friday evening, an elbow into the jaw, the tears, the shock, the worry… will I be okay for Sunday? All checked out, teeth intact, no broken jaw, soft food for two days, the soccer will be played no matter what.
As I head back into Cong village, I begin to think about the pressure on Mayo, and on the pressure on my daughter to score, but she doesn’t feel it in her world. The pressure is on Mayo though, with media, supporters, crowds. I wonder when it all begins to change, do some still stay in their own world, a bit like I was this morning, because when you want to perform, when you need to focus, maybe that’s what needs to be done.
As I tiptoe up the last hill back to Lisloughrey, lots of thoughts were left in the woods; the worry about the jaw, the thinking about the match, because no one can foresee what lies ahead.
The match is on. They’re on top, some great touches, two goals up, we’re flying. Or so we thought. It all begins to change, the opposition come back, one goal, then two, it’s nail-biting. With the intensity of this match, one hasn’t a minute to check on Mayo – I hear they’re losing.
It’s full-time after extra time, a draw. We should have had it won. The support, the cheering, the nerves, the hoarseness. It’s confirmed: penalties.
We move down the sideline nearer the goal, to support, to encourage. Not much penalty practice, just strike it hard and go for it. One goal in, another one wide, another one saved. Colga bury the last one, game over, we lose. The heads go down, the tears begin and don’t stop; the complete and utter heartbreak. Such a nail-biting, enthralling game that could have been won or lost at any stage.
To see the youth huddle together to support one another through such heartache, the other team shaking their hands, to applaud them, for them all to step up proudly to receive their well-earned medals. In a world where the hair has to be perfect, where the getting ready takes a while, it's great to know that there is a place where the youth can let themselves go, run freely, forget about everything else but winning that ball, have some fun with face to face friends and freely show natural emotion.
The sadness, the giving out, the regrets, what we should have done, but then someone cracks a joke and a smile appears, the food arrives and the mood is lifted. The sadness turns to a smile, the tears eventually dry up, the regrets turn to what went well.
Sport is sometimes so so hard, but there is no better teaching. Life is full of setbacks, it's how we rebound from them, build on what we can, and strive for a better outcome that makes us go training again tomorrow, with the head up high, in the real world, not a world consumed with negativity and criticism.
Ard na Gaoithe is windier this morning, but the vision is still clear, the water is still calm, and the image sends one on the next journey… Mayo will come back, there will be plenty more finals, and I sure do want to continue exploring lots more, on foot.
