Racing on Mayo's pristine Atlantic shore

Over the past few months, I have raced in many countries all over the world, mostly in extreme heat, through magical beauty, enjoying and enduring the most amazing experiences.

Now back to the west of Ireland, winter is gradually emerging. Darker mornings for running, miles building up each week for marathon training, a coolness in the air, the openness of the countryside. When the wind picks up it pushes you back, when the rain blows across the bog it soaks into the bone, but that’s what makes it all the more worthwhile. The reward is greater, the harder you push.

Arriving home from Romania and back into running on grass, Castlegar offered a nice introduction to running in wet, soggy grassland, jumping over bales around the Galway racecourse. When the weather turns bad, nothing is protected, but the buzz is enormous.

The sense of achievement is huge before heading off to race the Mayo Cross Country Championships around the sandy fields, up and down the sand dunes and against the Atlantic wind, along Doolough Beach. Well, I cannot wait.

A beautiful scenic drive, the journey just under two hours, I'd be in Dublin as quick. I thought I knew everything about Mayo, but every day is a learning; each and every time I run, I experience something new.

As we travel along the road to Bangor Erris, the sunshine beginning to rise over its beautiful bleak landscape, passing over Bellacorick Bridge known around here as the Musical Bridge. I tune in with awe to the sceals; travellers can play tunes on its stone slabs by rolling a round stone or pebble quickly along the top edge of the parapet, the stone drops and strikes the joints or slabs in rapid succession, producing a cascading musical scale. I'm stopping on the way home!

We meander our way through the twisting turning roads to find our destination. A huge field beside the beach. On exiting the car, the wind would take you if you weren’t ready for it.

A quick rush to the tent to sign in. Races running on time. A short stride out around the course. The sun shines over the Erris peninsula. Line up with the younger females and away we go.

An uneven up and down, a dirty hill, dodgy with lumps of sand and cow hoof marks. A rapid downhill, where I go for it, but the ground won't let you. Finally, a 'normal' stretch of running on grass, where one can get into a stride, a rhythm, lifting the legs high, pumping the arms and breathing in the salty sea air blowing off the ocean.

A sharp downhill from land to sea, sprinting through the grass, leaping onto the beach, the long stretch of golden sand, against the strong Atlantic wind, the challenge is invigorating.

I love this feeling where the ground is soft, the air feels clean and I get to do this three times. It’s early days though and as the miles and loops are on repeat the obstacles become more challenging.

We head back along the beach and I keep out wide. It’s a little longer but the sand is firmer. The hard spikes felt in the bones of the feet, pushing back up the steep sandy hill, the support is amazing; their cheers compete with the roaring Atlantic surf.

First mile beeps, a long stretch to stride it out, running fast and safe over uneven terrain, the field spreading out as we move along the challenging course along the Erris coastline. Back onto the beach, feeling even better knowing what's ahead.

The men warming up support us, I happily smile back, as this is pure bliss. I know I'm third female; it's about holding this now.

The final lap I feel stronger. I remember playing county football with the girls from Geesala. Their strength from training in tough hard weather, on sand-laden pitches along the Atlantic coast was admirable. The wind never bothered them. Running along this shoreline, I feel like I am on the edge of the world. Nothing between us and the ocean.

I think of all the challenging tough competitions over the last few weeks, I think of all the obstacles sometimes we must overcome, just to get to do something we love. Feeling the salt on my lips, running this course is a pure, raw, powerful feeling, empowering a sense of strength, freedom, an appreciation for being able to do something you love, in a part of the county so far away that I don't get to experience often.

The loop flies by, the cheers awaiting and I am rearing for the final downhill, no matter how uneven it has become. I power the arms up the final sandhill, and go for the finish line, third female home, first team. Everyone knows everyone in Mayo, from Shrule at the top end to Bangor Erris at the other end, I meet a man my Dad played county football with. We chat about their victories, losses and great times.

Doolough Beach has welcomed me back from Romania, the beauty of county Mayo has re-ignited my love for cross country racing and the beach has fulfilled me with a need to return back here and train. For now, I'm off to play some music on the musical Bellacorick Bridge with my teammates from Mayo.