The untouched beauty of Inis Meain

A beautiful tiny place exists off the west coast of Ireland. Hidden out in Galway Bay secluded between its two sister islands is a place called Inis Meain, meaning the middle island.

An isle of freedom, isle of fun, isle of peace, isle of pride, remaining protected from outside influences, left as it should be for its inhabitants, steeped in history, culture, the Irish language, a natural, untouched beauty.

On Mayo Day, I’m heading away to the neighbouring county but will be representing the green and red with pride. It is one of the busiest times in education with exams galore. When one is passionate about what they do, endless time is dedicated to supporting, encouraging and doing everything one can to get students over the line.

Home life, family life and every other part of life is also at peak season; in order for me to keep going, to be strong, fit and healthy for everyone else, both my mind and body right now need escapism – even just for a few hours – leaving leave modern life behind.

A race on Inis Meain sets a seed in the brain and what better place to escape to, with all the proceeds going to the islands secondary school. Now even more passionate about getting to this event, knowing the extremely hard work that is put in by the principal, teachers and students each and every year, holding one of the biggest events on the island.

Colaiste Naomh Eoin opened in September 2003 and has gone from strength to strength; this event greatly contributing to the continual progression of the educational establishment. It’s often said you will never work a day in your life again when you do what you love. Sometimes doing what you love at certain times can consume all of your mind and body and so one needs to have another passion one can escape to quickly, in order to keep all sides going. Mine is running for miles outdoors in a beautiful place.

The journey begins on route to the pier in Rossaveel. Once one exits Cong the leaving it all behind begins. The phone coverage gradually fades away, the twisting, turning, winding roads get windier, there are less shops, less houses, less people, just a barren, bleak, beautiful landscape.

On heading for Maam the road rises around a sharp bend, facing into the most eye-catching views of Lough Mask. The sheep own the road, controlling the speed of traffic, no rushing, no panic, life is forced to slow down and just take it all in.

Inis Meain, meaning the middle island, one automatically thinks it’s the second biggest of the Aran Islands but it is the least populated of the three and the least commercialised, making for a true island experience. On sailing away across Galway Bay, leaving the mainland behind, I am beyond excited. It’s like leaving Ireland and heading off on a holiday to a faraway island. One must sit up top on the boat to experience the sea trip properly and also to avoid getting sea sick, especially when one must run a tough race on arrival.

The sailing up top always for the tough; the seats soaked wet, the fresh cool sea wind, the splashes of water, the taste of salt, with spectacular views of the Aran islands, of the burren, of sea life. We’re heading out to do a 10.5km road run but it’s not like any other race. It’s called Inis “Iron” Meain; all wondering what the word Iron means and as the principal says: "It’s a very tough race across a variety of terrain. If you ask me why the word ‘iron’ forms part of the name, I can guarantee you won’t need to ask again once you have finished this race."

I am told of unreal hills, varied terrain and a vertical kilometre in the latter stages of the race. There will be no PBs today or no watching times; just taking it all in because that is what I am here for. Simplicity, no complications, no questions, no pressure, no stress, no phone, no computer or internet, no cooking, cleaning or washing. Just to run beside water with friends, in a land free from hassle, for a day of culture, craic agus ceoil, I am rearing to go.

On meeting two friends from back home, the craic begins. The chats about the race, about the goings on in school, the plans for the weekend, the tension being left behind, the light-heartedness of people looking forward to some fun, to achieving something for oneself and to giving something back. The boat is packed with fellow runners alike, people heading out for the weekend, people from faraway lands out to experience something like never before and locals bringing out their supplies. On nearing the Island the skies look bright, a stillness and calmness about. There are no island wind, rain or dampness’s today.

On arrival I am stunned, greeted by hills, green fields, stone walls. In the distance a few dotted houses dispersed up on the hills, no cars, no bikes for hire, no horse and carts for lifts, just us with our bags, and the long winding roads ahead, no signposts, no one to ask, we just find our way.

We all head off together, chatting, laughing, longing for a coffee, beginning our adventure to find the Scoil to register. A mile walk, the banter, the laughter, the figuring out which way, where and what time. We’re told it could be quarter to or quarter past because that’s the way things happen out here; there is no schedule, no strict time, just when everyone’s ready. I am told they will wait for us. Coming from a world that’s controlled by time, where the clock is always watched, where the bell goes at a certain time, where lateness is not accepted, this will take a bit of getting used to.

We climb a few hills and we see arrows on the road, indicating where the run might be heading. It’s warm and the sun starting to emerge, with not a puff of air the humidity will be high, no shop in sight for water, no toilet stop, just keep walking. The bags getting heavy, the mouth is getting dry and the bellies are rumbling. We meet the vice principal and he’s delighted to see us coming. He points us in the right direction, there’s tea at the school!

On nearing our destination we hear the first bit of noise: the music, the school children, the excitement, the relief to see us arriving and with a half hour to spare, I think: ‘Warm up, get ready.” I’m told there’s no panic as it’ll be an hour anyway!

We are greeted by lines of goodie bags, pots of tea and tables of homemaking. There is huge warm welcome from staff, the locals and the students who all have worked so hard to organise this event and we return the enthusiasm with utter excitement about racing today.

A small school but has it all: changing rooms, cloak rooms, classrooms, canteen, yard, outside benches, boarders and locals, school bus and all. Huge achievements, huge accomplishments and plenty more to come with the help of today’s fundraiser. Finally it’s time to gather for the briefing. The race will be 10.5km, with all roads marked. We’re told to mind the potholes, the Stoney treks, the undulating hills and the “Everest” hill in the latter stages.

We line up on a hill to start. TG4, RTÉ News and the mayor of Galway are all here to support. I look around and there is a gathering of people along a tiny road, up a fair height, a view for miles across Galway Bay, not a phone nor a car in sight: this is going to be a good one today!

The siren goes and we’re off, led by the local garda on the bike and the Order of Malta. A quarter of a mile of a steep incline, we pass the children out like bullets. They now tire, a climb around the corner to the church, a sharp climb to an off-road trek of uneven terrain, grass in middle of the road and one must watch every step. A sudden downhill arrives, and it is hard to run it flat out as one must tip toe round the potholes, sudden dips and any other obstacles that arise.

This sorts out the crowd quickly. One gets into a flow, a rhythm, one holds and reserves some energy as all systems will be called on today. Not a breath of air, no breeze and one can already feel the dead heat. Water in cups up ahead, one drowns the head, legs and arms. It’s hard to get a sip from a cup when running, the soaking a welcome coolness.

The locals are out supporting us, as Gaeilge of course, I respond always, with “Go raibh maith agat”. The best thing about running a race on an island like this is one gets to see the whole place in an hour, and I intend to take it all in.

The variance in a small place from one part to the next, the limestone-built walls and green fields left behind to be welcomed up ahead by the beach, the sea and the boats. I am in awe of the stillness and the beauty, and I forget about the miles, the hills, the toughness. I think of what life is like here as a principal, a teacher, a mam, a completely different way of existing, an exploration, an outdoor education, an appreciation for the simple things in life, a wonderful experience.

I push on and I smile. I am loving this. I run fast on the downhills, the lads push the uphills. I am saving a bit, thinking of Everest. Two miles to go and this is tough going. Longer than a normal race, it’s hard to keep concentrating and running fast while on uneven surfaces. I look up ahead, I see the hill and I tell myself “it’s like the one back home”.

Tackling it face down, I think of what the week has been like, a train station of journeys, one trying to catch the next train and the next. Not out here today, this is just one foot in front of the other, its only one way and that is upwards.

I think of people I know in hospital, staying strong to get through their journeys. I push harder. I think of the students with exams, the teachers workloads, some runners around me have stopped. I just keep going. The harder it becomes, the freer the mind gets, and I am ready for the next week and what lies ahead.

I reach the top, a flat part. What a feeling it is and the legs move fast again. I head for home. A short downhill, looking out across the sea. I pump the arms, I lift the legs, I smile from ear to ear,. The crowd cheers, I’m second lady. I cross the line, arms in the air. I am beyond excited, the mind and body are booming with energy, excitement, pride, overjoyed, cleansed, and ready for the after party.

I sit on a small stone wall to take a breath, I look around the island and life is good. Everest cleared the mind, Inis Iron Meain has fulfilled me in every way to return to the mainland for another spell of doing what one loves.

There is a place way out in Galway Bay for one to escape to when the mind and body needs; it’s knowing when to do it; to do what one loves, run miles for fun with friends. I am now ready to return back home for the rest of Mayo Day.