A Moonlight Dance

18 March, 2024 - Greg Byrne

They called it a Challenge, but issued race numbers and timing chips… oh what should we do… this would be the first intentionally organised short distance night run by IMRA in Leinster. Epic tales would surely rise from the peaty summit. Let’s dance…

From the gun all pretence of fun was shed and the leaders took off as if they knew first home would have the pick of the sandwiches.

I’ve never been the best at race briefings, my short-term memory seems to reach capacity with three turns, so now ten metres into the race I realise that a night race means trying to remember turns and what competition was wearing. The combination of darkness and beaming head-torches eliminating any ability to scan the field to establish who I might actually be racing.

Luckily John Bell has decided to keep on his nice red jacket, and Peter O’Farrell’s white shirt was in luminescence quite outstanding (much later one would wonder if a darker shirt may have helped cement any marginal gap).

As the rampaging horde finally reach the roads plateau we had about fifty metres to make position before the forest entrance. One side of my brain was content with the current pace, the side urged for a few more places before the narrow single track climb. Either way I knew full well that it was straight up to Maulin summit and this would hurt at any pace. The most rudimentary of recces had informed me that positions were not likely to be swapped once on the bike trail, so a surge ensued, I got 5-6 places and the chance to follow (possibly elbow) John Bell into the trees.

Everything settled down now, except for the effort levels… our attempts at jogging had heart rates glowing red. After an eternity we emerged onto the fireroad. John aligned left of centre on the road… was he insinuating that it was my turn on the front of the chase pack or was he simply setting out his position in an election year… oh, the wanderings of a race brain. Either way I accepted and closed up on the leader, comfortable to sit in for the next section, but then all plans are temporary doodles in the real world… along comes Peter, and he is not happy to sit anywhere.

For me it’s now the same plan, new leader. I chase Peter up through the walking trail and we emerge on a higher road. Peter’s turn to indulge his race brain’s musings and he calls for runners to run their head-torches off. A second call is met with no action, do the runners suspect subterfuge? The half moon is reflecting nicely off the gravel and eliminating the head torch glare brings the night sky alive with stars. With each turn we are greeted with moments of darkness and more stars that you’d see in a year of suburban living.

Returning to the trees for the final walking trail to the stile brings switchbacks and the opportunity to make runners think we’ve gapped them with each turn. Peter knows this, I know this, we try to make it work, but as with most aspects of mountain running the theory struggles once applied to any kind of incline. Hitting the fence line we follow the marshals prompts onto the open mountain. Now the reality of night running really hits home, every tuft of heather is a false summit. We run in hope that the next one is the exception that makes the rule, but a glance up causes me to stumble and reduces me to a walk. Peter tries to run past, but some exposed peat leaves him doing some strange cross between bambi on ice and dancing with the stars.

We’re both walking now… seconds becomes hours. The summit of the race briefing feels like a fictional nirvana. Then something white glistens, a marker arrow, the summit. The joys of mountain running, we’ve hit half way, not even 3km into a 7.5 km race.

Peter is gone, he gaps on the rocky sections and comes back in the mud. The trauma of the National Master XC might have had some benefit, but not enough to make me think about passing. Chasing and leading are two different disciplines and I don’t have the required naivety to swap.

We finally hit the Wicklow Way and a 2 mile sprint to the finish. The left turn gives me a chance to see a chasing headlamp only metres back. Two could soon become three… but the focus for now is the headlamp ahead. The first mile is filled with false dawns. The new water breaks feel like steeple chase hurdles. The lack of shadows on the dark dirt means each footfall is gamble, and overtaking would require stepping over to the dark side. Each time I even think about drawing level Peter ups the cadence and takes the inside line.

Finally the course flattens… the final stage in the XC v CX side by side comparison.

As I round the last corner I can see the chasing head torch… Is that Peter, is it another… is Peter’s torch off? we know he’s done it once before… the finish line comes before the panic attack can take hold.

Night life

16 March, 2024 - Warren Swords

First IMRA event of the year. It’s been a while since I ran with a head torch, perhaps the night sections of ultras have scarred me. That awful feeling of death marching up mountains in the dark, hoping sunrise will bring the legs a miracle.

So it was great fun to blast around the hills and be back for a sandwich within the hour.

The over 40s were out in force and a bunch of us broke off from the pack. Peter and Greg passed me on the section steep section but back onto the fire road I was holding the imaginary elastic band. At one stage Peter shouted to turn off our lights. I thought we were doing this to put off the chasing pack by disappearing into the night. I think Peter just wanted to run under the night sky.

Onto the never ending zig zags and I was going out the back of the group with John Bell and others passing. Still, was able to force a run all the way up before the hiking began on main Mtn. Sounds odd but I’m brutal at hiking. Can’t get any sort of rhythm going.

Eventually the summit cairn appears and onto the descent. This was great craic and easier than I expected. Managed to pick some nice lines, sticking to the stones rather than the mud. Caught two people before reaching marshal. For a couple of seconds I had no idea where we were before getting directed to the Wicklow way.

Chased a head torch all the way down but was had hard to tell if I was making any ground. The trick of sneaking up on people didn’t work as head torch alerted them.

Great event and course. Hopefully we’ll see a couple more of them as judging by the crowd and the buzz afterwards, it was a huge success.

The m40s competition should be great this year!

Magic

16 March, 2024 - Peter O'Farrell

Everything about the race was perfect really. Well done to All, especially Alistair for the vision to put it all together. Napoleon always liked a lucky general and Alistair got the perfect weather on the perfect night for the inaugural running of this fantastic race. To add to the feelgood Andy Keeling had the perfect antidote to any recent negatively with a clothes and kit collection.
The course was absolutely amazing, in only 7km strong climbers, nimble descenders and fast fireroaders all got to showcase their talents. It's a brilliant loop.
I'm always interested in the race design and race marking and I have to say I learned a lesson there last night - the course was perfect. Minimal places to go wrong and all junctions extremely clearly marked with shiny arrows. A judicuous marshall in place where you might miss that left turn back over to the fireroad. And, and I'm speaking with my wife's concern here, no need for a summit marshall to freeze up on a windy mountain in the dark - just perfect marking arrows.
Following on from last week's carpooling Orla and myself picked up a last minute passenger when Greg txted on Friday morning. Having 3 in the car felt at least 50% more righteous that just the two of us as we pulled into the mostly wedged carpark at 7.14pm. And extremely polite and cheerful parking marshall sorted us out there.
Right from the very start of the evening it felt magical, the moon, the stars - more stars than at home in the lit up lights - and the happy buzz of excitement at a novel adventure, a night race. Registration was slick and the chats continued. I remembered to do a bit of a warm-up and tried to run without the headtorch. That was all great till I walked into a deep puddle whilst attempting a sneaky wee.
Onto the race and there were many fit looking forties and fifties on show hovering around the front, the youth were presumably away for the long weekend. With the results showing 9 of the top 10 in female and male were over 40. Possibly we could have copied the cycling and had a prize for first unplaced under 40!
At an achievable 7km I didn't have the fear of running out of steam that haunted my approach at last week's wonderful wicklow half race so I smiled at myself in the dark as I stripped down to one layer. I was racing! I think.
Off we started and the mad gallop of the start was slightly more tempered than usual, a nod perhaps to the average age of the group. Onto the climb and I initially settled in behind a behind but after a while that behind started walking so I skipped past and then a little more skipping and slipping and I found myself behind my carpool buddy Greg. As much as I like Greg I knew staring at his back for the climb wasn't a good strategy so I went with one last skip and into the lead. THE LEAD. The actual lead, of the whole race. I'll be honest, I wasn't expecting it but by Grud I was enjoying it. THE LEAD. I literally pulled up sleeves and got on with it.
Once again, to borrow from the cyclists I went full gas for the climb - I thought (correctly) that Greg was faster on the fireroad so I was determined to get to the top with either a lead or make him work hard. The obvious downside to this was that I was also working hard, really hard. We turned a corner and briefly it was just the two of us, I asked him to turn off his torch and for a magical few seconds it was full gas, rasping breath at the head of a race, in the dark with just the crescent moon lighting the way.
How cool was that. The lads came around the zig, or zag, and that was that but it was mighty. We kept at it hammer and tongs and unfortunately for me we topped out together. Onto plan B, descend faster than Greg. I threw myself off the top and got a little teeny weeny gap but by the turn we were together again. Thanks again to the marshall there saving us from heading for Djouce..
We approached the fireroad so it was time for plan C. As A and B hadn't worked and Greg was fresh off a cross country season and I......wasn't.......well I didn't hold out much hope but sure I went for it. After a few surges eventually Greg's original plan came to fruition. Greg plan A - get to the fireroad in contact, then win.
To add insult to fireroad injury - I'm with Mikey on all things fireroad - Liam Mooney also also ran past me on the pesky hardpack. Very tasty sambos followed. Our happy carpooling car was filled with prizes as Orla came 3rd in her race. The prizes were also extremely generous - all adding to the wonder of the evening. I'm sitting here roughly 24 hours later and still smiling at how good an evening it was. Having the results up quickly is great and thanks to all who worked hard for that as transmogrifying hard written notes in the dark onto published website goodness is great work. Thanks again.
So thanks again to all at the good ship IMRA and see you at the next one

At last in the dark

15 March, 2024 - Mikey Fry

Well at last a night run torch’s flying legs moving old men and women dancing up the slopes of love up the front Liam warren john go on past me up through nice bike trail Greg gets by cheeky young lad feeling old tonight puff puff we wonder through the fields of dark flip how many zig zig are there in thinking two but there’s about ten pasted by a few rob being one so I keep up with him Andy as well tough hill up to the top of maulin endless rob keeps a run nearly all the way we summit and I’m like sorry time to fly down passing rob the Andy knowing that the Wicklow way horrible trail I’ll see them again sorry another dude can’t remember name will blame the dark boom boom Im sure we turned onto the open hills as me and warren chatted after but eventually we turned left onto my not favourite part in any race stinking fire road passing the waterfall side down the roundy bits onto the straight turned off my head torch love running in the moon light and watching the lights coming after me pasted by two still pushing on nearly there then blasted Bernard passes me just before the last turn well done boom over the finish line sandwich’s and coke prefect way to finish a race in the dark probably well done to old man Greg Liam and other old dude Peter super racing good for some of the writing crew on the forum during the week so they couldn’t make out who was being mean to each other thanks so much to alistar and crew for a super race maybe next time we find the technical way down instead more fun good day mikey:))