Peter O'Farrell

18 February, 2013

17 minutes in. Heart thumping. Race has settled into a pattern after a very fast start.
Des Kennedy and runner 436 are 100 seconds ahead. Kevin English clear in third. 4th 5th and 6th and so on spread out like the marmalade on bread at an 80's convent school, ie: thinly!

30 minutes in. I've lost sight of Des and 436. 4th and 5th are getting closer on the climb. Kevin has a huge gap.

Des Kennedy in a commanding winter league position about two minutes ahead of his nearest league challenger but only about half a heartbeat ahead of the first time runner 436.

I've been that soldier (most recently at the circuit of Glendalough) and have a lot of sympathy for what happens next.

The two leaders, toe to toe, each trusting to his heart and lungs to provide the blood and the energy for the thrusting legs to keep driving forward forward and on and on. The eyes are a little hunted, the brain is awash with second hand blood already stripped of oxygen by the hungry legs. The little fluttering streamers of tape ahead appear to beckon them on and on and on towards the bigger faster looking path which both take decisively. The heady plunge down towards a fireroad. No tape. no tape. Feck it, blast it, can't stop now! We're racing! We must be right. The slowly dawning stomach wrenching kick in the gut when you come out onto a tarmac road in the middle of nowhere and realise the race went somewhere else. It's a horrible feeling. I've done it in Howth, The Scalp, The circuit of Glenmacnass, The circuit of Glendalough, Carantoohill, NAM and various other places. It's a learning curve which we seem to keep climbing!

32 minutes in. Kevin is out of sight in third. Barry and myself are fighting for 4th. He probably doesn't realise this as I never get ahead :) Very frustratingly he seems to be quicker than me on the flats and and same speed on the downs and we have almost finished with the ups.

40 minutes in. Barry loses most of a 10 second lead by missing the last right turn into the plunge through the forest single track. After a millisecond delay I called him back :) I've now called back about 5 or 6 runners over last few years and they have all gone on to stay ahead of me. Nothing changes. Barry runs well and out sprints me to the line. 5th I think and look up to Congratulate the first 3 home only to find a very distinct lack of any Des shaped people. No Des! No other fast runner guy. Only a slightly grumpy looking Kevin English. He was the winner. I got third by default after a great battle over the last 3km with Barry. Mad Ted.
The new runner and Des eventually came back via Laragh. It's not fair but it is racing. Maulin awaits!