Stretching the legs in Longford

It’s a Saturday morning in mid-September. I step outside to get a feel, smell and sighting of what the day is like; an autumnal feeling, the leaves beginning to fall from the trees, the blackberries blooming on the briars, hedgerow ivy igniting the garden with a glistening green.

I love the seasons, the changes, the distinctive features; our bodies gradually adjusting as the weeks go by. Change is good for us all. Sometimes, we need to embrace it a little more to enjoy it.

It’s a beautiful morning for running, not the usual cross-country weather but sunshine appearing, bringing a warmth in the air. No wind, no rain, no gutter!

Sitting alone at my kitchen table (this doesn't happen often), I’m slowly eating a plain breakfast, which is another unusual occurrence – breakfast nowadays is always on the go. Listening to the silence, I watch the stillness, enjoying the food and moments. I purposely don’t look at my phone. Sometimes when you have nothing else to do, you notice everything. The sunrise, the animals still asleep, a car passing, or the mountains coming into view.

And then it’s back to reality; time to move, prepare and head to meet the crew for another long journey, this time to Longford and the first round of the Connacht Cross-Country – something not recommended in the latter stages of marathon training. With 20 miles just completed less than 48 hours ago, the legs aren’t in full racing mode but a stride out with friends, representing the club, will do one good. After a few years at this routine, the body gets used to it, only working well when listening to it and doing what it says.

A meet up in Claremorris and we go the back roads to Longford. It’s a lovely way to catch up with equally busy friends, plotting and planning the winter adventures. Us runners are always thinking ahead, giving us a focus, a drive and an ambition to keep training.

Arriving at Moyne College in Longford, a crowd of youth are warming up, racing, and hanging out with friends. A beautiful sight.

A quick change and off we go. The ground is firm but soggy in places, the sunshine beating down, loops galore lie ahead. We explore the course. I've been here before: a long straight, an uphill, a downhill and a long drag. My legs are tired, but my head is good.

We support the youngsters and then we’re up. A long start line; I know most of the crew from all over Connacht, and it’s a pleasure to run with likeminded people. We get a quick start, but the long drag slows us a little. A grassy, firm downhill, then into stones, gravel and now slippery stretch from all the earlier footing. Staying afoot is key.

Getting into a comfortable rhythm is taking a bit longer today. I don’t have the fresh legs to suffer early or to push too hard, it’s maintaining the momentum.

The crowd supports us back, a sea of colours from all over, the joy, happiness and laughter to be heard on turning each corner. One lap complete, four to go.

The passing and overtaking begins and then they come back, and it breaks the monotony. I hear the voices, recognising some of the cousins from home, and I smile with pride as they’ve won medals.

Moving into lap three, my legs now feeling that concrete block heaviness from marathon-trained legs, the mental grit experienced in latter half of long runs is now needed to kick in – and so it does. I slow on the ups, push on the downs, feeling the crisp October air in the lungs as the body gets used to the rolling, exposed, grassy fields, knowing exactly what’s coming next. The aerobic marathon experiences are working, and one knows they can finish strong. The hill is ahead but I don’t mind, I have no pressure today, only fun.

As I look up towards the school, I think of all that happens in a week; teaching, educating, parenting, driving, sport, coaching, cooking, baking and it goes on, but I get to run on my clock, I get to swim to recover, and I love it all.

I can’t help noticing the classrooms and the pitches, imagining the fun students have, the busyness of the teachers. Today, I’m relishing what’s happening because hundreds of young kids and teenagers have forgotten about phones, about how they look and about life’s challenges, to push their bodies through a tough race, for their club, county, their families and themselves. If we can as parents, teachers, athletes, and coaches inspire our youth to continue with sport, we are doing a good job.

I smile on crossing the line. I am not emptied but my legs have done what they could. We hang around in the sun, laughing, chatting, and enjoying the buzz. A quick change and the long journey back to Mayo. The roads are twisty but so are we. We jump from chat to chat, the mountains are clear but so are we, all having a plan for today that worked. Sometimes our goals need to be realistic and achievable and within our capabilities on the day.

On returning home, the house is alive, the livestock are galloping through the fields, the activity of the area is heightened. I am glad I embraced the moments of the day because now an energy is needed for the shared moments of the evening.

The silence of the morning feels like a lifetime ago. I didn’t race in my highest gear today, but runners and teachers simply refuse to quit. I am enjoying the moments, relishing the experiences, looking forward to what tomorrow brings… and the marathon on the horizon.