Running a marathon in memory of my dad

I return from the World Mountain Running Championships, home from all my adventures, my legs have a lot done but feel good and my head is buzzing. There’s a lot preying on my mind. We’re all back to school, home life is crazy busy, summer sports are colliding with the winter ones beginning. County finals, cup games, cross country all to be fitted in. And then there's the past. Someone has left, someone is greatly missed, but the world keeps turning.

People tell me a black cloud will come, some days I think it will, but I plough on because I do love life; even though some days it throws us up a bad deal, I have escapism to a world that eventually feels good.

Sunday morning comes around, only a short time left until the Dublin Marathon, so I’ve my last 20-mile run. I'd keep going all day but the marathon speed has been used up a bit over the last few weeks, even though it was so worth it. I’m out in complete darkness before anyone is awake – I need to be home for my daughter’s cup match in Galway.

That's the thing I absolutely love about running, it allows me to process all life’s queries on an early morning, the longer the better, ensuring there's enough time to clear all thoughts before the day begins. If a black cloud does appear, it bursts down at the lough, the sun rises, the brightness appears, the clouds lift, the body stands tall, the shoulders lean back, the wind clears any cobwebs, the rain cleanses the sole and I am free, free from sadness, free from the busyness of life, free to do what I love and need.

My mam and dad gifted me with many talents, one being sport and so right here, right now, I decide I'm running the Dublin Marathon 2024 for dad. This will provide many challenges… other years the focus was on times or running for the club or for the team but when one is to run for a loved one who has recently passed, suddenly it's a mental challenge. Dad and my family roared for me at 17 miles two years ago in Dublin. It will be at times like this, one must be strong, one must feel good and so I will run on feel.

Getting to the start line is always the challenge. Our son’s county final is now scheduled for 10am, my husband is coaching the team, our daughter’s Premier League game is also at 10am in the other direction – even a helicopter wouldn't sort us all. My family and friends rock up and before I know it all are sorted but I'm an emotional wreck. To see our children play and have fun means an awful lot but wonderful friends remind me of why I am running the marathon and so I focus. It’s become a real family affair, my mam travelling up with me the day before.

I sometimes see signs that dad is with me or maybe sometimes I imagine or wish for it. This morning on driving into Tuam, a huge trailer of sugar beet holds us up. My dad worked in the Tuam Sugar factory for years, many memories of long, tough, challenging physical work but of him having great fun times too – a bit like running a marathon.

We’re staying with my wonderful aunt and uncle-in-law. Around a beautiful meal (albeit I’m on the plain stuff), we laugh and reminisce, however, I must rest. If I want to do this tomorrow I need everything in my favour. I don’t sleep much and sharing with my mam, I rise very early. My uncle-in-law drives me in and I drop the bag and head for the start with my running belt, Mayo AC vest and a black ribbon for dad.

I’m relaxed and meet a close running friend. We begin the long walk to the start, the colours emerging from the side streets, the familiar faces, some friends, some competitors. The start line begins to fill up, I take my place, I cross my fingers, look up to the sky, it’s cloudy but not black, I start my watch but today I will be looking up, not down.

We’re off, I start calmly, I hear the noise and the excitement but I am in a different space today. I am going to enjoy this marathon because I have to; if I begin to think negatively or if this begins to hurt, I will get upset and fall apart. I am very mindful of the past, present and future. A mile beeps, I see a neighbour from down the road, I am blown away, I wave and smile. Four miles pass and I hear a scream from a great friend from Kilmaine. I scream back. Seven miles pass and I hear another roar. “Come on Paula.” I recognise the voice so I look back and catch a sighting. It’s my close cousin and their partner, I am completely overjoyed, I roar back, telling them how much this means to me. I move through Castleknock with a pep in my step, I am smiling, this feels good.

In the middle of our capital city, running with 20,000 people and passing thousands in the crowd, when you hear your name being called, when you see a familiar face, when you spot family and friends, you are so overjoyed. It pumps the adrenaline through your body and whatever your discomfort or hurt, it wipes it away. You look into people’s eyes, you can see the joy it brings when you have spotted them, when you acknowledge their support, because you know how much it has taken for them to also get here.

On entering Phoenix Park, I know this long drag up the middle so well having ran here many times throughout summers while my dad carried out his daily errands. I think about how life has changed so quick. I reach the downhill leading me out of the park and the crowd roars, the atmosphere is electric. I turn to face the next few miles, running onto the muddy winter colours of brown, green and yellow leaves. We’ve reached halfway.

The mind moves into a lonely place. I’m missing my family and as I look into the crowd, a mass of people, I know no one and the mindset is changing, I need to rewire it. I think of my son, his match has begun, he’s tall and strong, playing in the forwards, and after already losing a final they want to win so bad. Another mile beeps, I think of my daughter so young, playing up an age in soccer, being so brave, travelling with friends. I think of my husband, my mam, my brother, and then feel a slap on my back. I jump. It’s a running friend from home, we begin to chat, we laugh, he’s going well. Dublin is a small place when two running buddies from Shrule trot alongside in the Dublin Marathon.

I’ve no idea what time I am going to do today but I know 17 miles is near. I psyche myself up that I am going to run through the place where my dad stood roaring two years ago. I reach the corner, the Eye of the Tiger is blaring, there’s a huge crowd and children are giving out sweets. I take some, I need something to make me feel good. I hit the uphill, I see the open road, I see a vision from before; my dad, mam and brother standing with the Mayo flag, screaming their hearts out and me screaming back. Today I grab the black ribbon, I squeeze it hard and run quickly past the spot, focusing on getting to mile 22.

I’ve a few miles left, this is nothing in my life right now. I trod along through the ups and downs remembering the past fondly and with a smile, as smiling makes one feel good and it makes the supporters cheer, it keeps one moving alone. Voices are screaming for Mayo AC, it’s our running friends from the club, such a wonderful sight, I gratefully thank.

Two miles left, a downhill, I completely soak the head with water, I know the crowd will bring me home. I spot my mam, aunt and uncle-in-law, it is so emotional, I wave so hard, I shout so loud, I pump those arms, everything positive, because being so near could become so far and I am not breaking down at this stage.

The end is in sight and I spot a familiar face, Dad’s cousin, who was so close, who lived beside him, who grew up with him, who fondly tells us treasured stories. I am overjoyed. I can see the finish line and I squeeze the black ribbon and cross the line. The watch beeps, it’s a new PB. I ask the stewards if I am definitely finished. The medal is placed around my neck and then it hits me, I have done it. I am completely overcome with emotion, one minute I am crying, the next I am smiling, one minute I am happy, the next I am sad. TG4’s Nuacht land over and the as Gaeilge gradually flows out, an odd English word thrown in.

I grab my bag, anxious to check my phone, our son has won a county title, our daughter’s team won 3-1 and my mam got to see today’s journey. I got through today because my family and friends supported me and no matter where they were they brought me through; the black cloud never appeared. Dad gifted me with many talents so, running the marathon was the least I could do. I’m not sure where the next road leads to but I know someone will guide me through.

Dad, I will be forever thankful for so much, I will be forever at a loss, but I will be forever strong because I have escapism, I have family and friends.

Rest in peace.