The tough sporting days make us stronger

The body can only do what it is able to do on a given day. One can train, prepare and do all the right things for an event but if the body isn’t feeling well, you have no choice but to listen to the screaming and just do what you can. Achievements gained on days like these make the rewards so hard earned, but I do believe the tough days in sport makes us stronger in many ways.

The All-Ireland Indoor Masters Championship finally comes around. It’s on a Saturday in March, in Athlone. Ash Wednesday is the week before and so we as a family all individually set our traditional yearly challenges of trying to sacrifice something. The kids decide they are giving up chocolate but I don’t eat much sugar except for when needed in sport, like mints to help a healing tummy. But for some mad reason I tell all I’m giving up sugar and, wait for it, stress! Therefore I need everyone around me to think before the quarrels begin; to not just empty the gear bag inside the back door, to bring down the clothes for washing. Just the simple things.

By day two I am more aware and conscious of situations that I might get worked up about more easily and so because of my challenge set, I step back, breathe and then deal with the situation. This is working extremely well and I can already feel the weight lifting. However, my body is in bits, I am beginning to lack energy, wrecked tired and the stomach is beginning to churn. I just think it's me missing sugar and tell myself to get over it, go to bed early and I’ll be back to my buzzing self tomorrow. However, it's even affecting my sleep. I’m waking up regularly and my whole system is affected.

Tomorrow turns out to be even worse; no matter what I eat, drink or do, it’s not helping, my body needs what it used to have. Competition morning comes around, I pack the bag, make the tea and head for Athlone. I’m feeling okay as I haven't done anything yet. It’s the most beautiful morning, the first sign of proper spring sunshine, a grand fresh breeze but typically, we’re running indoors!

On arrival I can see the few heading in, some sprinters, some longer distance track runners, some shot puts, some jumpers and some throwers, because this event is for everyone. I see some clubmates, the numbers are collected and it's time to warm up. I convince a few to come outdoors, any opportunity to get some fresh air, some Vitamin D and laps of the outdoor track in beautiful sunshine. Wow, I'd love to be outdoors all today.

I'm not sure how I feel but it's hot, I'm already sweating, the friends have jackets on, but I don't notice. We head back in, things are delayed a bit due to technical issues, the joys of technology when all depends on it.

We’re called for the first race, 1500 metres, 7.5 laps, line up and it’s off. I know from the word go I’m behind and after one lap my stomach starts talking and churning. A 200m lap doesn't seem far but when you're not feeling good it’s a long way to go. I now have no energy, the race leaves my mind and it’s about survival. In my thoughts I send the counting of laps away out to the outdoors track and just focus on breathing, in through the nose and out through the mouth. I now feel sick – I am never sick – and just think that time will pass and so will this. I cross the line, I don't see or hear anyone, I lean over the barrier, feel as weak as water and just get my bearings. The girls are up racing next, I sit and watch and cheer them on. I sip slowly on water; it tastes so good. I need sugar but can't stomach a thing. The girls cross the line, I head to meet them, they’re concerned about me, I tell them I’m fine and that I just need to recover. And so I do as there are three more races to go this afternoon, all one after the other.

I need to see where I am at so head to the car for dry tea and toast. I turn the heat on to the max as I’m gone from roasting to freezing. I gradually sip on tea from a flask, it’s lukewarm as it's filled for hours, and the toast cold but it feels good just to be able to manage something. I decide to head back in to watch some of the lads' races and make a plan for later.

The relay is the most thing I need to partake in as a team depends on me. It’s only one lap flat out and no matter what I’ll survive. The 800m is scheduled for right before and the 3000m for directly after. The girls arrive back, we sit, relax and enjoy the variety of races and track events, the long jumps, the shot put, the high jumps all happening in the centre while the middle distance runners race around. We’re spoilt for choice. We cheer, encourage and support because everyone is up against it today.

Time moves on and we need to warm up again, things have settled but I’ve still no energy. I put back on the spikes, do a few strides and loosen the legs. I’m concerned that I’ve three races to do and decide to inform the officials what’s going on and to save myself for the relay and if there is anything left for the last race. Unfortunately, I'm told if I do not do one race I won't be allowed do the others and so I need to rush back down, no time to think, just run. For me right now it's not about racing today, it’s to just do what I can to survive and balance the three events to cover what's needed.

The 800m is four flat out laps. I can't remember one from the other, I don't see a thing only the line ahead and each time I cross it, I’m getting nearer to home. I count one, two, three, four, and just keep counting until this is completed. I lean again over the bench and then hear the relays being called. It’s rush back upstairs, check in again and line up for mixed relay. My teammate has water waiting, and peppermint, the kindness of friendship in difficult times.

Of course, there’s a problem, we’re not registered and we’re given out to. It really is not my day. I’m like a child afraid but I'm just not able so I let the others take control. They chat, sort and work it out so at the very last minute we’re in. Run back downstairs, get to the start line and bang the gun goes; it sounds so much louder today. The first runners are off and I quickly practice the baton with the third runner, which is one less thing to worry about. Some of the competitors I recognise from our recent relay events. I’m up now and have to concentrate on the technicalities because even those seem hard today. A very fast changeover, it’s run like hell, more bent over than normal as it helps, turn the bend, try and straighten up and sprint the home stretch. 

I cross the line, we’ve ran a faster time than last week, happy days. It’s one last hike up that stairs to register, and one last rush to a start line, and one more bang. I just move my body and try and get into a rhyme to get me around fifteen times. I think of all the times last year I ran in discomfort, I think of how hard we are on ourselves sometimes and that we have had many, many good days and there will be many more to come. I think of how proud I am if I can complete this to have survived four sprint races in one day and face back home to finish a marathon of errands. But that's life; we plan, we prepare, we organise but sometimes we just need to live in the moment because circumstances outside our control take over.

It’s times like this the mind must lead and the body drag along. It’s the mental strength to keep going. And then I hear a roar, I am not able to look back, but I recognise the voice, a great friend from an opposition club and county, running today with an injured knee. I know I can do this. The last lap, I am not able to push, and so just count again… ‘one, two, three, four’. But then I’ve to count again and again. This time I run past the line to my bag and fall on top. We go to collect our medals, I don't feel I have earned them but in some ways, they were the toughest earned. The job is completed. I now face a journey home alone but I'll have some sugar and dream of heading back to a stress-free world, where I can be kind to myself, where I can recover and overcome a tough sporting day that makes us stronger. I hope the gear bags aren't emptied in the back kitchen. Mine will be left in the boot for tonight.