Through the green and red of south Mayo

I’m back with a bang, haven’t come back down to level ground and have full intentions of staying up high. What a high to come back to; Mayo are into an All-Ireland final. When I left, they were through to an All-Ireland semi-final against Cork.

The county is alive with the green and red, the roasting hot sun from early morn has heightened the greenery all around. Everyone both young and older have a bounce in their step. Every garden you pass there’s a ball outside, every village you drive through there are flags galore and every match you go has an extra level of intensity!

Sport lifts people, even if you don’t know a lot about football, you quickly get into the buzz. The talk moves, from about the weather to have ya got a ticket - there like hen’s teeth! The next generation are now in the equation which makes it all the more exciting.

When I return home from an away competition, an eagerness exists to get out for a local run because the last time you ran down the boreen you were talking to yourself about the upcoming competition, about what might, might not and could happen. Leaving 39 degrees returning to 30 degrees in Mayo there is a redness everywhere, even on people’s faces, but theres a heightened greenness in the background, the redness of the sun has brightened the countryside but so have Mayo.

I have an eagerness to see how the local clubs are representing themselves in preparation for All-Ireland day and so with seven days to go I will run through the nine south Mayo football clubs. With not enough days my long run tomorrow will include three clubs, starting at the bottom of the county, Shrule/Glencorrib. The Black River flows quickly between the two counties, the power of the river indicating the power of the rivalry; The maroon and white flying high up ahead supporting the hurlers today. The green and red flying strong and confidently, overpowering this side of the bridge.

As I speed down the village, where many a representative from the tiny parish wore the jersey, three miles done, I’m entering the neighbouring village of Kilmaine. Many a local battle was won and lost, between families, cousins, fathers-in-law against sons-in-law, our son’s team being the latest to lose. A beautiful scene to see the cousins embrace each other after and that’s what the GAA is all about. Families, communities, heart and soul.

A left at the church, five miles to the Neale, an undulating of ups and downs that I foundly remember as a child, the green and red of Kilmaine transforms over the hills into the green and white of Cong, Cross and the Neale. Situated on an isthmus of land between two of Ireland's largest lakes: Lough Mask to the north and Lough Corrib to the south another club bordering Galway.

A beautiful Monday sunrise leads me on a Ballinrobe into Hollymount adventure; the community spirit to be felt in the town even in moving, some of their annual festival, to accommodate their county team. Heading towards the golf course, the local business light up the road into my own footballing home ground of Hollymount/Carramore. Carramore’s pitch being one of my favourites; on the side of the road, a rock-hard ground, where the animals bleated us on. A club All-Ireland, lost by a goal in a replay. Many fond memories.

The road out leads me past great friends’ homes, through the hinterland of Garrymore; a fierce competitive area where if you were marking a Garrymore head you had your full wits about you. Every ball was hard earned.

As I head for Claremorris, a tear comes to my eye; sport and the GAA is what occupied a lot of our time, my father’s generation the same, now our sons and daughters. People left their beloved county all down through the years, but something holds you to the area, to where you are from… It’s the middle of the week, the minor lads are playing in Achill, the under-16 girls home to Tourmakeady, all very close battles and encounters but there is something unifying- tickets being the most common discussion!

It’s Thursday morning. I’m off to Claremorris, a population of 3,857. I remember in 2005 my husband’s team playing against them in a south final; Shrule/Glencorrib finally making it to the county final against Crossmolina. My cousin playing for Claremorris, another deep rivalry, where one stayed on the outskirts.

As I run out of town, the commercial hub fades into open fields as you cross into the parish of Ballindine and Irishtown: Davitts GAA. Running through the literal birthplace of the Land League. You can feel that radical, historic defiance in the very air, the amalgamation of the two, the sense of toughness and the need to fight for a place.

The last day before the big match I head for Mayo Abbey, running through the narrow roads, climbing the rolling hills, surrounded by old stone walls, the momentum to be felt, a forward-moving energy in the air that tells you this parish is actively growing, building, and investing in its future.

What a pleasure to run on the roads the players still travel on. A mile is still as long, the pitch is still as wide, and the passion is still as deep. The beauty and differences between each small club and parish is what separates us all but also connects us on a larger scale. Each club bringing their own distinctive qualities and talents to form something bigger; contributing to a powerful county squad. I hope to get to north, east and west next time!

On Sunday, each and every player will go out and give it their all, they will represent the county with pride. Here’s to many more wonderful opportunities for us to display our parishes, club’s and GAA grounds. Wishing all the Mayo team the very best on Sunday.