Westport spectacle shows the west is awake

In our younger days we won All-Ireland football medals before and behind us, with years of victories in our schooldays. Our celebratory song was “Everywhere we go, people always ask us, who we are and where we come from. We’re from Mayo, mighty, mighty Mayo.” And that’s what Mayo is. A mighty county.

Westport AC hosted the National Cross County Championships this month. They did the most magnificent job. From the moment you entered Westport you knew this was going to be well organised; yellow vests dotted on nearing the location, traffic flowing, ample parking, and acres of room for everyone. The place was alive with volunteers, coaches, athletes and supporters.

A bitter cold morning but a beautiful sunrise, I had been up at the crack of dawn but not as early as when heading halfway across the country to run another national event. A restful sleep in my own bed, a relaxing breakfast at the kitchen table watching the sunrise over Croagh Patrick and only having to drive 45 minutes on the twisting and turning winding roads to West Mayo – my body doesn’t know what hit it.

The movement begins upstairs, the world is beginning to waken and the madness of the day begins. I call my daughter, an early start for not one but two soccer matches. You see when you are from a small, rural area, in order to keep teams afloat some of the younger players are called up an age to field teams. I am delighted I can make at least one match as there is a guilt about me missing the rest of the action. The other half is still dealing with all the excess work from Storm Éowyn and of course, the lambs arrive early.

We’re off, my daughter togged in soccer gear and me in cross country attire, tea, water and spikes all packed for the day. I sit and watch the girls warm up in a bitter east wind. It feels like -3 this morning. I am not generally a cold person but when standing in an open windswept pitch dressed only for running, a cold gets into your bones so I head back to the car. A tracksuit belonging to my son goes on – he’s now taller than me.

To watch the girls laugh, joke, but concentrate on their drills to perfection, obeying their coach’s instructions, having fun while getting the job done, it’s something we as adult athletes can learn a lot from.

I begin to warm up, the excitement of watching the ball being won, running fast down the right wing, turns it in and boom a goal, my daughter scores. I am overjoyed. It’s game on. My husband and son have arrived and take over. With fifteen minutes left I must leave and head off on my own adventure because I have my own team that needs me. Some have never run cross country before, some are experienced, some have no training done, but we will rock up, partake and represent Mayo with pride.

As I travel to Westport I think of all the national competitions we have travelled to, the length and breadth of the country, so what a privilege it is today to show off our own beautiful county. I can see the mountains, I pass the lakes, I drive through acres of greenery. I think my competitive friends will enjoy this one today.

Westport has a different feel for me today. Normally entering for a wedding or an occasion, today it’s for a different celebration – an outing of young and old, partaking in a sporting event like no other where the grandeur of fake tan, straight hair and nails gets hidden under muck, gutter and dirt. There’s strength in every part of the body needed just to survive. It’s hardcore stuff today.

I begin to see the familiar faces, the club colours I recognise, and then out of side laneway my clubmates emerge. We hug, embrace and head for registration, meeting some of the younger runners already on the way back, their journey completed, some with medals, some with smiles, some with frowns, all covered in muck with hot chocolates galore. We congratulate everyone because everyone that completes the challenge today is a winner.

We meet the Westport crew, today we are all on the one side as we are all Mayo and we know how much work it has taken to organise this event. Stewards on duty since 7am, athletes running since 10am and people travelling west since yesterday. Because that’s what lots of people did, came west for the weekend – and I think that’s brilliant.

To look around Westport House, to see the place covered with colours from all over our county, clubs from all over Mayo, members who might not normally partake in this national event when having to travel three or four hours for a 4k race, is delightful. Because it’s on our doorstep, people emerge from all over the county, from Erris to Ballinrobe, from Swinford to Ballina, young and more mature, experienced and not so experienced, supporters and athletes alike. Dunboyne to Ennis, Clonmel to Galway, they’re just some of the other club colours I’ve seen so far.

There’s tears of happiness not sadness today, of pride not upset, because while sometimes we feel we are deprived in the west, that we are left out there and disadvantaged (and yes, in some ways we are), in other ways we have it all. We have wonderful people, wonderful natural resources, a never-ending beauty and we have safety. No money can buy this. Everyone here today has given up their time to be part of something uplifting, a well-being event, where togetherness brings everyone through.

As we begin to warm up I meet many competitors I know from all over, running through the trees, with sunshine emerging through the clouds, they’re all smiling, already saying they’ll be coming again. Mayo AC has a corner beside the house, everyone knows where to come, bags left abandoned, Lucozade, coffees, sweets, all left on top of bags for people to share, the whiff of deep heat, tiger balm and wintergreen reminding me of football days with no changing facilities. Phones, keys, wallets left under bags, a safety exists in Mayo among crowds of people. The spikes on, the layers are removed and we run to the start to keep warm.

Everyone lines up in the middle of a field at the front of Westport House, a long drag for half a mile up ahead is all one can see, and then I hear a call, a cousin of mine and his twin boys. I shed a tear, they have medals around their necks, the pride, the joy, the achievement, they have trained so hard. The cameras are flashing, it puts it all into perspective. People admire their elders for representing themselves, their families and their clubs.

It's a tough start, elbows felt, heels clipped and clumps of grass underfoot. It’s crowded, it’s hard to get out, a fast start, a little hill, it can be felt already. We turn a corner, one short loop and two longer, a twisting out and back course so one can see who is ahead, behind and beside at all times.

Cheers, screams and encouragement all along the course, friends, family and faraway folk dotted all around us today – sure everyone in Mayo knows everyone in Mayo! When you hear a familiar voice but cannot take your eyes off the uneven ground to look up, you smile, put a thumb up to acknowledge. Even though this is tough today, it is most enjoyable. The second loop seems so much longer but that’s because it is. I just run, it’s about endurance and survival today. My legs begin to tell my head that I should have trained but I turn it; I am thankful to be here and able to take part.

One last hill, just get up it and head for home, a push for the finish line. I lean on the fence, looking out to the house, thinking of what has been achieved today, hoping we will all be here again.

For now though, it’s back to a cool down around the wonderful grounds in Westport House. Beep, the message comes through, my daughter and her team won their cup match. It will be a brilliant evening for everyone in Mayo, on this sunny but cold Sunday in February.