Treasure hunting.

05 July, 2019 - Brian Kitson

You know the movie scene when the heroic action guy finally gets to fight the enormous tank of bad guy and it doesn’t really go according to plan? They meet [QUEUE: IMPOSING MUSIC AND A DARK, STORMY, NONSCENSICAL & INHERENTLY DANGEROUS SETTING], then the hero throws a bone crunching blow but instead of hitting the deck like he was supposed to, the bad guy simply shrugs it off and smiles before unleashing an almighty hiding on the hero. The thousand Hollywood film directors who included this trope in their films definitely ran Trooperstown Hill.

The lung-busting exertion of the Connaught Championships race on Mweelrea in Co. Mayo last weekend was but a faded memory by the time I happily breezed into Trooperstown Woods on that bright, warm summer’s evening. I had a spring in my step and spent the day gently suppressing a rising feeling of impending stardom. Coming off the back of some decent performances over the past few weeks I seemed to be gradually, consistently and quietly making my way up the leaderboard. High-teens a few weeks ago to mid-teens, low-teens and then even a top ten up in Mayo. Shur jasis, I might as well start writing my speech! There was a swagger about my racing demeanour which was enhanced by the rare appearance of my wife and kids, my quasi entourage, adding to the illusion of impending success.

Had I stopped to wonder why a race that almost killed me just four days earlier was now ‘but a faded memory’ then I might have thought back on the events that followed that race; the incredible weekend of camping, the boozy IMRA beach bonfires and the 14 hours of partying I did in Limerick after the Munster Hurling Final. However, none of these things came to mind and, for obvious reasons, they were also just a faded memory by the time I started the race. But my body remembered, and my body was in cahoots with Trooperstown hill that night to make sure I’d remember too.

I had gone wrong on this course before and when I arrived at the start, I was thrilled to find Niamh O’Ceallaigh giving us a quick briefing of the course she had marked so impeccably well. Then our Hollywood-cum-race director for the evening, Rachel Cinnsealach, set us on the way. Game plan to the ready, I started towards the front and tore off past a good few folks on the speedy downhill towards the river. Bish, bash and bosh; I knocked ‘em all out with my running prowess during that glorious 200m downhill section. Ha! They didn’t know what hit ‘em! Legs whirring nicely like a casting fisherman’s reel spinning over the bridge I carried momentum into the first climb. ‘Well done, Brian,’ I told myself gleefully as I put the finishing touches to the acceptance speech I would later give standing upon the pool table in Kavanaghs, ‘that’s the tricky opening 200 metres nailed. ‘Only 9.6km to go. You’ve got this!’. We kept to single file going up the narrow climb through the woods so I was able to ignore the early warning indicators of a failing body. I held onto the dream of glory. Then came the fire road.

At some point during my 200 metre spell of running par excellence, I managed to pass the great ultra-running legend, Eoin Keith. ‘Wait until I tell them down in Limerick that I passed Eoin Keith’, I thought, ‘they won’t believe it! They’ll put me on the Limerick team bus through O’Conn…oh wait, never mind. There he goes…”bye Eoin!”’. With that, everyone else passed too. That fire road seemed almost as wide as the M50, yet, it still wasn’t wide enough to accommodate all of them who wanted to get by me. They were queuing up. The pace was so fast and tough. That’s why Trooperstown is such a brute; it’s just so runnable for those good runners and there were plenty of good runners about that night. To prevent a critical blow-out, I had to dial the effort volume down from 11 to eight, and then six but it was a still struggle just to hold on until the open-mountain.

Then things got worse. These hills looked tough but I thought I was fitter than them in my mind’s eye so I attacked them with a sense of purpose and determination. Seconds later I was beaten into a walking submission.

Bond hits Jaws, but Jaws just smiles and knocks his block off.

Chastened, I ploughed on trying to run when I could. I was in a tussle with a few lads all the way to the main summit and, in fairness, I held my own for the most part. I even started passing some of the procession who had passed me earlier and just as I was getting back into my groove on the descents I’d arrive at another climb, and another whooping. I’m back to being a walking observer of my jogging foe. I’m working so hard on my way up to the last cairn where Rosy Temple is based, I’d swear she can read my pulse from 100 metres out. On the final long downhill and I’m back to passing a few people. At one point, I managed to catch a glimpse of Graham Bushe not too far ahead. ‘It’s great to see him flying again', I thought, 'but how I’d love to race him tonight’, before he disappeared off into the distance. I did manage to give Aidan O’Donoghue a right good chase down the final forest section and was closing in but he put a great sprint on the stretch toward the finish line to catch the epically named Valdas Tilunas for a dead heat tie. I followed them home a few seconds later in 16th position.

It wasn’t my best race. Perhaps the start was never going to get the Hollywood ending I desired. Who wouldn’t want to win a sprint finish ahead of Eoin Keith, all the Bells in Wicklow and the Kilians Mooney and Jornet passing under a Limerick Hurling team guard of honour as they crossed the line….men, women and children weeping with joy and astonishment as they watch you being handed your OneforAll voucher by the Limerick manager, John Kiely, down in Kavanaghs? But for now, I’ll take the oddly unenjoyable satisfaction to be found in the race that doesn’t go to plan and the search for value in the terrible grind. A run in the hills will always send you home with something to treasure. Perhaps, sometimes it’s enough just to keep standing even though you’re having your block knocked off.

There’s gold in them there hills.

Trooping around Trooperstown

05 July, 2019 - Mick Hanney

A warm summers evening greeted us at Trooperstown. A slight cooling breeze but generally perfect conditions for a race. The race clashed with the Wicklow 5k road race and a certain Eddie Vedder playing in the 3 Arena so perhaps field was lighter than usual, not that you’d know it.

Had a short warm up taking in some of the starting/finishing single track and given the very dry conditions I opted for road runners, a decision I ended up being happy with. Its not every day you can do a technical hill race in roadies.

A very efficient registration process and Kevin ensuring the race ‘chip’ was registered for the race. I did note one DNF in the results later and can only guess it was for a non-registered chip as the runner in question had finished ahead of me.

Joined the crowd gathering up towards the mountain rescue base at 7.30. Without much fuss we were off dashing down the service road, clouds of dust being thrown up. After the initial dash, the climb through the single tracks begin and it was an effort to keep running with the steepness and the congestion. However, managed to keep a jog going and emerge onto the road for the continued climb to the hill. I was trying to keep the effort levels steady here but managed to make a few places going up the road, past John Ahern and Gareth, I think.

Past the telecoms tower and left turn onto the hill itself. Now the fun (and pain) begins. For once I managed to run every step of Trooperstown hill. I’ve always usually opted for a walk run strategy here, but today I managed to dig deep and keep the momentum, picking up a couple of places along the way (and a segment PR). Brian Kitson passed at this point – despite his post-Connaught legs - and try as I could to stay with him on the first descent he got away from me. Shane O’Malley also got away from me here but I kept him in view for most of the race. From the first descent onwards we would encounter early starters coming towards us. This became a bit messy as there were many parallel single tracks to run and one track was usually preferable, so it depended on who was running in what track and I ended up losing time by constant switching. While its one thing to say Stay Left, logic insists one try to run on the best track, so there is a bit of a conflict in your head as you run!

Approaching the last hill on the outward course, Killian was already on his way back with Ian and Barry motoring in relatively close attendance. I managed to run steady here and pick up the odd place on the final climb to the turning point.

The way back again was another battle of wills with oncoming runners as to who was in what track. Out and back courses have their place but there is a real collision risk with a crowded race. Nice encouragement given from friendly faces.

More climbs on the way back and while I felt slow I was still making ground on a few runners that were opting to walk steep / technical bits. Before long we were back passing the summit on the way back with the steep down to come. Past 2 more tentative runners on this section with only the road and single track to go. Lost a place to a younger runner (Kevin Kelly) with more road speed after the hill but held on through the single track to the finish straight and stop.
Results say 20th which I was well happy with. Felt I could have pushed harder, but on reflection my HR stats afterwards were ridiculously high for the entire race, so realistically I was on my limit.

Well done to Killian and co ahead of me. Another level! Good to see Barry on his way back! The M50 category itself is ridiculously hard. Well done Eoin, Bernard, Graham, Shane who were well ahead with others – Brian, Richard – not far behind. Thanks to Rachel and volunteers for a well organised race.