Thankful for my wonderful sporting year

2024 has been one of the most difficult years in my life personally, but one of the best sporting years. Winning world medals, running my first Ultra marathon, winning the Lanzarote trail race, first lady in the Tullaroan half marathon and in the Run for Mary 5k, second lady in the Burren half marathon, a PB and second lady in the Kilishein 10 miler and a new PB in the Dublin Marathon which I ran in memory of my dad are some of the magical moments that come to mind.

I wonder sometimes when you are going through an extremely difficult time, does it make you a stronger person, does it harden you up to cope with the things that seemed so difficult in the past? Like work challenges that you now sail through. Like unimaginable racing conditions but with each step up the mountain you get stronger. Like a last-minute decision to run a half marathon in the Burren, where the hilly landscape drains the legs and the open terrain would blow you off the edge but you just keep rolling.

When you see someone you love go through the extremist pain imaginable, a bit of tough weather while running hard in some ways seems easy. That image, that look in the person’s eyes, that shrill piercing cry of pain, gave me a mental and physical toughness to face the personal challenges that lay ahead and is one of the reasons 2024 was memorable for me from the perspective of running.

After running the Dublin Marathon last year, I signed up for this year’s National Ultramarathon. What’s another six miles I thought. Training began on New Year’s Day and meant running very early mornings before work in dark harsh winter weather – but I loved it. My first Ultramarathon was completed in February inside the national time and I wanted more. Running the longer distance meant forfeiting a few regular events in my previous racing calendar and next up was the Burren Half Marathon Challenge, which is exactly what it was – running over rocks, marshy grass and up and down miles of hills through a barren open landscape to a happy second place finish. Finishing second in the Kilishein 10-Miler in Co Clare in a new PB meant training was going well and so the hills kept coming, this time at the Tulloroan Half Marathon where, as the farmers paused their paling so we could run the boreens, I won gold. It was a great lead-in to some warm weather holiday training in Lanzarote – my island of hope, dreams, sun, sea, trails and adventure.

The odd trek out and about gives one a chance to breathe, to escape, to run free, and to run in daylight. A 6k trail race, in roasting sunshine, on the high volcanic mountains, over volcanic ash, along an exposed coastline to Puerto Calero where the views are spectacular, the weather will challenge even the toughest and so the competition is fierce. But I have a summer buzz about me, the rocky, hard, surface, a welcome change from the marshy boglands of South Mayo, and so I bounce through the barren terrain, passing the Spanish camels, and head for home as the first woman to cross the line. This for me was a special one, coming after my dad’s passing. I needed something to drag me out of grief and this was the turning point of the summer.

A call came to represent Ireland in the World Running Championships in cross country and half marathon. Having not ran on grass in a year, the spikes were pulled out and a few last-minute sessions were had on the football pitch, just to feel the grass on the toes again. Arriving to Gothenburg the night before, there was just enough time to eat, sleep and race, but that’s what we did – we raced for our country, ourselves and our loved ones, some not with us but who brought us home. A team world silver medal for Ireland, we were beyond excited and needed to stop still and take it all in, yet only three days later there was the world half marathon. We had a great team and a great medal chance until heartbreakingly, our teammate took ill halfway through the race and was escorted to hospital. But since she was okay, it was all okay; we were returning with a world medal so cherished the achievement, parked any upset and refocused.

That’s the thing about sport, there are many unexpected ups and downs, but treasuring the ups is what gets us through.

Only three weeks home and there’s another world championship trip, this time to the mountains in Canfranc. I’ve never even heard of the place but I’m headed for the Pyrenees, having first visited mountains more local to familiarise my body again with the challenge of climbing runs.

Canfranc is a town in the Aragón Valley of north-eastern Spain and a five hour drive from Toulouse airport, all after a three hour drive from Shrule to Dublin. But for us in the West of Ireland, to even compete on the national stage we travel for hours, are sleep deprived, eat breakfast in the back of a car, and don’t get to recover, so if anything all that strengthens us for an event like this. Travelling for a full day to arrive in Canfranc and racing the next day, first up was a 6k uphill mountain race. Sometimes when you don’t know what’s ahead, it works to your advantage.

I start out handy and build, getting stronger the higher I get. I begin to pass people and that in itself makes you feel good and I don’t from where but it gives you strength too. I hit the snow, I grab the grass and pull myself up, another team silver medal for Ireland, this time with a different team. When we started at the bottom it was two degrees and finishing on top of a snow covered mountain twice the height of Carrantuohill, it’s now minus six degrees.

It's an amazing feeling, one I will forever cherish, but for now it’s a ski lift back to base to prepare for a 17k mountain race two days later. Today is up there with the best of what I have ever experienced.

Sunday comes around, fast. I’m not sure how my legs are – and I miss my family and my dad – but I sure am going to do this. A fast start on the road, I sprint to get ahead and start the climb, and I follow the same plan as Friday, building, climbing, running, passing, then racing. I get stronger with each corner and begin to pass some familiar competitors. I know we are in a good position.

I am racing on top of the highest mountain I have ever been on and am in the top five in my category, but the downhill begins – a horrendous, unsafe surface. I begin to slow, petrified, not of the height but of the terrain. I begin to lose a few places but don’t panic, and seeing competitors fall I am not going to put myself in danger and so manage the descent as best I can. With two miles to go and on more familiar trails, like what I am used to back home, I up the pace, beginning to pick some off. I’m confident again and one mile from home I go for it, running so fast. I hear the crowds, the roars for the Irish, and I’m beyond buzzing. By the home straight I’m back up to where I was, I cross the line and hear “Ye’ve done it again.” Another team world silver medal for Ireland.

I lean over the fence with emotion and look up to the sky. I will never, ever forget this moment or the people who helped get me here, or the friends I’ve made, the coaches, the team. We gather, we embrace, we celebrate, but most of all I think of my family. This was for them.

I return home and have three weeks until the Dublin Marathon, having no idea what my body is capable of, but some recovery and celebration are both in order. The joy and happiness continues even though I have a deep loss inside me; knowing my dad was with me, as he was on all my sporting journeys, gives me the strength to power through each day.

On my last long run before Dublin, I trot on feel because I must listen to the body, it has done a lot, and a marathon is a long way to go. I run down memory lane, passing the home house, and the grave. I call in. I decide in that moment that I am running this year’s marathon for dad but but that will be the challenge this year, to find the mental strength to power through the hurt.

The day arrives and I’m calm, not looking at my watch, just the goal to stay mentally strong and achieve the goal set out. The 26.2 miles flew by, a new marathon PB, the supporters bringing me through.

This year was for all I love both past and present. With a few days of 2024 left I plan to go out with a bang, clueless as to what 2025 will bring but knowing I have an inner strength that will get me through.

As the daily challenges rise up before you, always believe that beyond the summit lies a downhill. Sometimes it’s fast, sometimes it's scary but there is a finish line at the end, there is hope, there is happiness, there is achievement. It’s the tough days that strengthen us for the journey ahead.

As the saying goes, ‘When times are hard may hardness never turn your heart to stone. May you always remember when the shadows fall you do not walk alone. May the road rise up to meet you.’ Nollaig Shona Dhaoibh.