Eoin Mac Mahon

05 July, 2024

It was a 600km Imra race.

I used Eoiin Hamiltons Hiiker app the whole way.

On the 4th Day I ate a Robin like an apple.

What an adventure!

03 July, 2024 - Dara O'Brien

So, where to start with this one? I’ll preface by saying – ‘Long race, long report!’
I’d always dreamt of taking on a multi-day running adventure across the country and had flirted with having a go at the Ireland Way at one point however, it never really got off the ground for one reason or another. The itch, however, never really went away. So, when I saw the Coast 2 Coast go up on the site, I didn’t hesitate for a second and I’d imagine that I was one of the very first names in the hat.

A few weeks later, I was delighted to hear that a running buddy of mine, PJ Meehan had also had a temporary fit of madness and decided to have a crack at this beast and so it was that the hardest part of the whole race (the logistics) started. A lot of evenings were spent analysing the route, guesstimating timings, spotting road crossings, support points and sleeping spots. All that we were missing was a crew!
After lots of cajoling, calling in favours and trying to convince people that they would be signing up for an historical event that would forever cast their names in the annals of time, we had recruited a rag tag group of running buddies, friends, work colleagues and family who were all willing to get involved and help us get from Bray Head to Bray Head in one piece.

Thinking back, what we were actually doing was two-fold – 1) Trying to run across the country solo and 2) Trying to organise and sort logistics for a relay team of support who would have to meet up and pass our gear along the way taking into account the high probability that our meticulously planned itinerary would probably hit the shitter before the end of day 1! (it turns out that we were fully correct on this one!)

After packing up multiple supply boxes, drop bags and Kit bags, sending final WhatsApp messages to our elite support crew and saying fond farewells to our families, we hit the road to Bray on Friday evening, stopping off for a final meal of the finest nutritional food courtesy of the Golden Arches – it wouldn’t be the last time to feature in this adventure.
Check-in at Bray was swift and efficient given the number of runners involved, quick mandatory kit check followed by the tracker fitting and then a box containing two spares with instructions on how to activate them if switching over. After a group photo or two and collecting a rather swanky looking t-shirt, it was off down the prom to the starting point where the man behind the concept, Brian Byrne gave a touching pre-race speech and then, at the stroke of midnight, we were off into the night.

The Climb up Bray head woke up the calves quickly enough, once at the summit, all runners had to touch the cross before heading down past a protective cow & calf toward Greystones lane and on through a few undulations before joining the Wicklow Way. Overall, this early into the race, the first leg was fairly uneventful, the weather was beautifully mild and everyone was in great spirits.

On one of the mildest nights of the year, Djouce happily lived up to its’ reputation as the windiest place in Ireland – tame enough by its’ usual standards but still enough of a breeze to make you question the laws of physics given the total absence of wind anywhere else on the way. By this stage, PJ and I had been joined by a third runner, Cian Nugent and we happily chatted away, passing the time and shouting heads’ up to each other as we traversed the worsening boardwalk sections in the darkness.
Sunrise was just outside of Glendalough and we were greeted there by John Murphy who was doing the first support stint. After being mildly accosted by an overly-friendly pair of local deer and a swarm of midges, we retreated into the car for a few minutes to eat, drink and refill the flasks and then it was off once more. Further stops came at Glenmalure, the 99 steps and the dying cow where we happily arrived in time for a Pizza and a cheeky pint! At this stage, PJ was beginning to suffer a few hotspots on the balls of his feet which was something that would mark his cards in the not too distant future.

From the dying cow onwards, things were fairly uneventful course wise – the weather was beautiful and the terrain was mostly road and fire road. Our original plan had us pushing on through Clonegal and through the night to take our first sleep stop in Graiguenamanagh which was about 165km in. By the time we were halfway to cardiac hill, it was apparent that the plan might need to change – PJ was badly hobbling at this point with the balls of his feet causing him a lot of pain.

About 3km before the end of the final wood section before Clonegal, Tom Owens, our second crew man had taken over from John and had run out the trail to join us – not a moment too soon either. PJ let out a roar of pain and his leg nearly went out from under him – we managed to link him on our shoulders and, after what felt like an eternity, got him back to the car at the start of the road section 5km from Clonegal.
We limped another 1km or so down the road before finally deciding that there was no point in pushing further. It was about 9pm on Saturday at this stage and we decided to call it for the day, get a lift back to my house in Graiguenamanagh, some sleep and food and re-group for the next day.

Back at the house, it was clear that PJ was in real trouble with his feet, the balls of both of them were just giant blisters and he was finding it excruciating to walk on. He made it up the stairs to soak them in the bath and 4 hours later when we were up again, he was happy that he could press on for more. While we were grabbing a bit of breakfast, our third Crew member, Shane Furlong called over with a full blister kit he had left over from running the Northern Traverse earlier in the year, after performing some scalpel & tape wizardry on PJ’s feet, we hit the road back to Clonegal and started out from where we had left off just after first light.

The South Leinster Way was day 2 and there wasn’t much to write home about really – road to just past Kildavin, forestry section to Kilbrannish and then a road ascent to the 9 stones car park on the flanks of Mt Leinster. The highlight was having our photo taken by a photographer who was there to snap a charity cycle race – he thought that the cyclists were insane for covering 180km in the heat until Shane told him what we were up to!
Quick bite at the car park, some further tending to PJs worsening feet and it was off down the long road descent to Borris before heading on down the banks of the Barrow to Graiguenamanagh. We stopped in at my house again where there was a bit of dinner ready for us and where we got an ice bath for PJ to soak the feet in – they looked in a bad way at this stage but he was determined to move on so after re-stocking the kit it was off again over the shoulder of Brandon Hill and on to inistioge.

Crewing duties were now taken over Jamie who met us at the square in Inistioge where we took on some food and drink and set off down the beautiful Poyntz road before turning off for Mount Alto. As we reached the top of the hill, we were met by a fellow trail runner and sure fire nomination for IMRA new race director of the year Rory Leadbetter who brought us his doggo and a bottle of Buckfast Abbey’s finest liquid refreshment – probably wisely, we passed on the latter.

Night fell for the second time on the journey and we trundled off down the road on our now familiar run-walk strategy through the crossroads of Derrylackey and on to Lukeswell for another crew stop. With no hanging around, we hit the road section towards Mullinavat and, at this stage my legs were surprisingly waking up and I clocked in some decent splits, pushing on ahead of PJ who arrived in about 5 mins after me for what would prove to be his last crew stop of the race. We pushed on a bit further into the night to about 5km outside of Piltown but at that point with PJs feet in a bad place, we called it a night and headed to his place for a bit of sleep – we were now about 210km into this mammoth journey.

Monday morning and PJ came down the stairs in obvious agony – he looked at me and just shook his head – one look at his face and I knew that this was as far as he could go. The blisters were severe and at this stage, most of the skin on the balls of his feet were a distant memory – he’d later on spend a bit of time getting his skin removed by a Dr! I was still feeling really fresh so I got a lift back to the stopping point at about 6.30am and set off for leg 3 towards Carrick.

I was conscious of the fact that I would have no crew support until later in the evening so I took as much as I could carry in the running pack and made good time all the way to Carrick-on-Suir, stopped to drop in at a Circle K where I grabbed some deli food and then hit the blueway towards Kilsheelan. At this stage, it was getting really warm so I did some quick ‘ultra maths’ and decided that running the flat surface would gain me 30 mins but cost me about three hours of energy so I applied the suncream, threw in the headphones and power walked up the Suir.

I arrived into Kilsheelan with the distinct feeling of blisters appearing on both heels so I grabbed a seat at a bench in the small square. Unfortunately, I hadn’t packed my first aid kit when leaving the house so I was delighted when I saw Ian Cunninghams crew van parked up next to me – they kindly sorted me out with some plasters and tape and I set off up the hills towards Clonmel about 15 mins after Ian had left. I was running in 7th position at this stage but again, the legs were feeling great and I came down into Clonmel over the footbridge right behind Ian.

I had put in an emergency call to my long-suffering wife as I left Kilsheelan and she was waiting for me by the bridge with a great spread, some blister care supplies and a powerbank for my phone. After some roadside surgery and a decent feed, I pushed on through Clonmel where I passed Ian just before a hellish climb out of town to the first diversion on the route. At the top of the incline as we met the trails, the GPX and yellow man markers pointed me to a dense patch of gorse through which there was no route. I took a parallel path up and around which eventually took me back to the main Munster Way path before dropping back onto the road.

From here, it was on to the Vee and up a brutally steep and seemingly endless climb towards the Knockmealdowns – it was (nearly!) made worthwhile by the view at the top as a rhododendron encrusted peak was reflected back at me from the stillness of a mountain lake. I paused for a drink and to take in the surroundings before hiking on past the viewing point and onto the open mountains. I spent the following hour cursing the sheep for not taking better care of their habitat as I negotiated bogholes, peat hags and abundant rocks.

Finally, I made it through the open mountains and back onto some much needed fire road.
Legs still feeling good, I made solid time to Fourmile water and pressed on towards the Liam Lynch Memorial where I had a drop bag left. By this stage, Tom had finished work for the day and headed towards me with a tent and sleeping mat ready to pitch it there so I could bed in for a few hours, I could see on the tracker that Noel and Tom had settled in there at that point but I still had some 18km or so to cover so it would be a push.

About 5 mins later, the phone rang, it was Tom who had thought about the lack of decent camping ground around the area and come back with an alternative suggestion – I call it a day earlier than planned, head back to his house for a proper bed and some decent breakfast and pick back up early in the morning. I had only clocked up 60km for the day at this point so was reluctant to stop moving but the thought of a proper bed was tempting and when I rounded a corner and saw an utterly remote but inviting looking pub called Lonergans, I decided his idea was a good one. I called him back, told him to come and get me and refreshed myself with a cold pint while I waited.

The following morning at the crack of dawn, it was back to the grind and after saying farewell to Tom and again with a full pack (no more crew available until later that evening) I set on up the Munster way, pushing up through some fairly gnarly and unkempt boreens towards the Liam lynch Memorial. The tracker told me, as I approached, that Noel and Tom were still there and at this stage, I was only a few KM away but the rain was beginning to come down for the first time and my feet were getting fairly soaked from the long grass. After a further bit of trekking through some forestry, I arrived at the monument and located the stick where Tom had left drop bags for PJ and I earlier in the week, so I grabbed a few nibbles and drinks and topped up the bag – the tracker told me that Noel and Tom had started moving again so I was back to chasing ghosts for another while at least.

Next drop bag location was 38km away at mountain Barracks and the route was fairly nondescript, the GPX was spot on so I had no real problems with the route and I can down to the drop bag location just at a clearing and small parking area on the crossroads – Ians support crew were waiting for him in the camper but they must have been catching up on sleep as there were no signs of life so a quick replenish and then it was on to a bench outside a guesthouse where I performed another round of roadside blister surgery – they were beginning to get worse after the wetness from earlier. I had a pair of dry socks which I put on but they went back into wet shoes so the respite was a brief one.
The route took me on through some lovely forestry and through a small village where I hoped I might find somewhere to rest up and grab a proper meal but to no avail, nothing seemed open so I trudged on along a road section for another 14km or so until I hit the outskirts of Fermoy and could barely contain my joy as a saw the most magnificent sight – perched on the side of a roundabout, a gleaming Circle K called to me with Handels Hallelujiah Chorus playing in my head ..

By now my phone was dead and the battery pack too so I clunked up to the McDonalds self order kiosk, ordered far too much food, took a seat at a bench with free plug sockets and siphoned off some electricity whilst I contemplated the worsening state of my feet. I was tucking into my nutritious spread when a couple of the Cork relay runners came up and introduced themselves giving me hearty congratulations and telling me Noel and Tom had just passed through – ghosts again! I caught up on some messages, did the best I could for my feet with my depleting supplies and gathered myself for the next push on to Ballyhooley.

15km or so of unremarkable road saw me to Ballyhooley lodge where I was met by Tom yet again and Brendan who had kindly offered me a bed in his place outside of Bweeng. Tom was handing all my kit over to Brendan to be passed onwards to the Kerry crew so I took the chance to do a better job on my feet and after a sandwich and a quick restock, I pushed on towards Bweeng into the evening.

Have to admit, I had no love for this stage, the route took me up the hills through seemingly unending sections of forestry, each lasting a few km before popping out onto the road for a bit and then back into the forest. Road access wasn’t clear either and Brendan was waiting on a call from me to say where to pick me up and take me away for some sleep – I decided to go until midnight and call it a day at the next road crossing I came to. As I was descending a final wooded section, towards the road, I could hear a few voices and caught a glimpse of head torches through the trees – Noel and Tom had picked the same spot to bed in – ghosts finally caught!

Brendan picked me up after 20 mins and brought me back to his place for the best sleep I’d had since Thursday night. A shower and fresh foot care did wonders for the spirits and I got a lift back to where I had ended the previous night’s jaunt. Of course the two boys had moved off 20 mins before I got there so I was back to chasing once more but the weather was good and the route was downhill so I made good time with my legs feeling stronger than ever.

Down into Bweeng, and on to the Duhhallow way – at the start of the forestry section I met a lady out walking her dogs who cheered me on and told me the two lads were just up ahead – I finally passed them as they took a break in the camper and shortly up the road I met my Kerry crew – PJ who was now back mobile (against Dr’s orders!) and his brother Michael who fell in with me for a few KM through the next forestry and bog section.
From here, it was up over a few climbs on peat hills and then down a long road section towards mountleader – this section will live with me for a long time. My legs seemed to come alive and I bounced up and across the hills before descending onto the roads where I was cruising along at 5:30/kms and opening a gap over the two lads behind me. I felt fresh as a daisy dropping in to the crew stop a few km below millstreet where PJ had a burger waiting for me.

The blisters were still there but not causing me too much grief so I pushed on up a laneway through a field of exceptionally dangerous calfs (at least that’s how I remember them) and then on upwards through more forestry for a while before meeting the two lads again just before the climb up the Boggeragh’s before crossing the border to the kingdom. I had made great time over the last few sections and had now opened up a good gap over the two lads, and was sitting in 2nd place overall.

The good times were going to swiftly come to an end through …
I started the climb to this section in high spirits and things were all going swimmingly until I got lost in the heather! There had been some talk on the WhatsApp group about the trail and GPX being off at this point so I mistakenly tried to pre-empt the best route to take – after 15 mins scrambling up steep heather I found myself near the summit looking far down into the steep valley below without a marker to be seen anywhere.

I put a call in to PJ and we had a heated exchange with him trying to guide me left and right while I pointed out that left & right was of little help when he didn’t know what way I was facing! After a few more calls I was on to Rowan from primal tracking who switched the ping rate on my tracker to 60 seconds and was finally able to get me down a few steep drops back onto the trail below, across the stream and onto the next section of trail which was, quite frankly a living hell!

As I was following the yellow man posts, one of the Cork relay guys who had run the section earlier called me to talk me through the route which had deviated significantly from the GPX route due to landowner disputes and forestry activity, as darkness fell, I found myself trudging through thigh high reeds with rock and bogholes underfoot, at this point my feet were in a bad way and no matter how long I felt I was walking for, each time I looked up, my torch illuminated more posts as far as the eyes could see tracking up to a ridge in the distance before finally descending some steep and rocky declines before eventually dropping back on to some much needed fire road.

Another few KMs of night running finally saw me meet up with PJ and Micheal who had set up a temt for me a few KMs before clonkeen. After a pot of noodles and stripping the sodden bandages and plasters from my feet, the lads headed off and let me settle into the worst nights rest I think I’ve ever had.

The wind picked up and blew the sides of the tent in, knocking an half full bottle over the array of powerbanks I was using to charge trackers, phones, other powerbanks, watches and headphones. I had to root about for more pegs and brave the thistles in my bare feet to try to secure the tent before sliding into a mummy shaped sleeping bag which pushed my feet together, the pain of which made any hope of sleep utterly futile.

I rested my eyes, fully awake for the next two hours until first light and then crawled out of the bag, tried my best to strap up my feet which were now in a bad way, before finally filling the pack and setting off towards Glenfesk and Killarney on the road.

Quick stop at a service station in Glenfesk where I attracted some odd looks from the workers getting their early morning coffees and then onwards through Torc before coming to a section of sharp rocky trail which seemed like it was purposely designed to inflict maximum damage on my feet with every step taken. By this stage, I was down to a crawl and when eventually I met Michael at a road crossing, I was feeling utterly done.

In fairness to him, he encouraged me to push on for the next 4-5km to Lord Brandon’s cottage and to take a re-stock which I grudgingly did. As I was heading through that section, I got a note from my Air BnB host to say that the place I had booked for the next two nights on Valentia was ready early so when I hit the cottage I decided to leave the course, get to Valentia and spend the rest of the day trying to sort out my feet – at this point I was about 15km ahead of the boys in 3rd and I knew I’d be giving up the podium but could still salvage a finish.

We stopped in Cahersiveen for supplies but I couldn’t get out of the car so Michael acted as my personal shopper. Mobile field hospital in tow, we arrived at the Valentia house and I set about trying to fix up my feet which were now severely swollen. The wonderful Stephen Erswell contacted me and called up to the house with a load of medical supplies and words of encouragement but I was feeling far from positive about my chances at this stage.

By evening, PJ had arrived and took us into Portmagee for a dinner and a pint before heading back for a sleep.
By the time morning came, I knew that my race had ended – I couldn’t put any real weight on my feet which were now purple and so swollen that I couldn’t fit any shoes on and I had no hope of continuing the race despite the fact that I only had 80 odd kms to go. I sent the message to the RD’s telling them and sank back defeated into the couch. So near, yet so far …

I recall that Ernest Hemmingway was once asked how he went bankrupt – “at first slowly, then all at once” was his reply – I know how he feels. What started as a small irk, soon snowballed into a race ending issue. Maybe some extra care earlier in the race would have helped, maybe not – maybe some extra crew stops with fresh shoes would have made the difference or maybe my feet would have shut down anyway. The frustrating part was that my legs and body still felt full of running – no tightness, no fatigue, no cramps.
To paraphrase Ali – It’s not the mountain ahead to climb that breaks us down, it’s the stones in our shoes!

Now that the dust has settled, I had an incredible journey – to cover as close as bedamned to 500km across some of Ireland’s most spectacular scenery, to race with fellow journeymen and to be a small part of ultrarunning history in Ireland is an enduring memory – only made possible by the IMRA community who devoted days of their lives to give us runners the opportunity and owing, in no small part to the great Brian Byrne who has created a legacy that I would heartily encourage everyone to try – in whole or in part.

Finally, massive thanks to my assorted crew who selflessly gave up their own time to support my attempt, I owe you all big time. And massive congratulations to all the runners who took part and shared in something that I truly believe was a very, very special event.

Getting it done!

03 July, 2024 - Ed Payne

Coast2Coast2024
Bray head to Bray head!!
Ed Payne,
Forgive me in advance because this is my first ever official race report, this will be written badly, spelt wrong have all the stops and bits in the wrong places but you’ll get the gist!!
Oh and it’s a long one!!
Sitting at the after-event breakfast of the KWU September 2023 after crewing a great friend for the previous 2 days a man stood up, a man that needed no intro (Apparently), but if you bury your head in the sand like I do it may as well have been Barney the dinosaur that stood up. Don’t worry I know who you are now Brian, a legend and a gentleman amongst many other things. Who was to know the impact that man was going to have on little old me!! A few short minutes later he introduced his idea and the fact that next year people were going to get the chance to run solo across Ireland from Bray head to Bray head, again I only knew of one, but every day a school day. And that is where the seed was planted, in that moment I whispered to myself 4 simple words,
“I’m gonna finish that”
Roll on a few months later and I stand in a casino lobby in Bray Wicklow. In a past life I’ve been no stranger to a casino or two, this time I arrived, not here to chip in or cash out but to sign in for a race. Looking around, second guessing everyone else emotions, trying to find a familiar face as my nerves slowly boil up inside. I exchanged a quick word with one or two, Ronan taped my lifeline to my bag, “Which Shoulder?” he asks, “Always the right Ronan” I’m a creature of habit! After a couple of nervous but finally successful attempts at kit check and I ran back out to my crew waiting outside because they were the only people there, I knew more about what was going on than they did so I could flex my
Ultra knowledge, look like I knew what I was doing and in some strange way this calmed me a little!!
My crew for the start was none other than my cousin Robbie, no stranger to a bike saddle but the world of Ultra running was new to him, not to mention the idea of crewing. We had some brief What's app exchanges prior to the event but not wanting to scare him away I told him we would have fun. We had a few simple rules as I always do on these ones, meet me when you can, don’t be offended if you wait for ages to see me and I try my best to get away from you asap. I will only stop when I see you, if your not there, I’m not waiting. Quitting is not an option; we will not be discussing it. Simple as!
That same legend of a man, now well known to me as the one and only Brian Byrne, stood up and on the wall on the promenade across from the casino and gave us some swift instructions before setting us on our way!! 3,2,1 Go!! It felt so easy and like always with the first step those pre-race nerves disappeared, and we were off. 600 odd km the distance, a piece of slate awaiting anyone that made it to Bray head on Valentia Island! I was well aware I was out of my depth, a few of us teamed up as such as we headed into the Wicklow hills, the road and trail fell nicely under out feet and the chat wasn’t long getting to running. I was among recent Beara Way finishers, and runners of races I had never even heard of, so I did something I can sometimes be very poor at and I stayed very quiet, I listened and admired. The course knowledge amongst the folk I ran with was obvious where as this was my second run in Wicklow, the first of which thanks to Barry and John I only saw repeated laps of the same 6.7km.
But we moved along, the night was warm, the moon was full and at one point its reflection bounced off a very calm Irish sea and created a scene worthy of any postcard photo. I remember telling myself to lock that image and this moment in time away for keeps, no smartphone needed. From there we turned a slight right and left the sea behind us, what a journey we all had ahead of us before we would next set eyes on salt water!!
I won’t try to say I knew the “Ways” or the routes or the hill names or anything, I followed the line on my watch to the best of my ability and after that sometimes I was on trail, sometimes road, a bit of forest road. But I moved well, it felt ok and the Km’s slipped by, Robbie slipped into his role as if he had been doing it all his life. We were meeting about ever 10/15k to start I would think. I’ll get to thanking my crew later but I won’t miss a chance here either and I am very fortunate to have a cousin mad enough to follow me around like he did.
The night rolled on the surface was good apart from me nearly rolling my ankle on the sleepers up on Djouce I think it is!! They kept me on my toes that’s for sure, but up and down we went, I had a rule that was non-negotiable and that was that every uphill was hiked and I stuck to this best I could and only negotiated it the odd time!! It didn’t take a scientist to figure out that the night was going to be short so not long before 4am the sky started to light up and life started to return to me and my legs. At one point I arrived to Robbie having just crossed the marathon mark and said to him, “Shit that’s a 5:30 marathon across the Wicklow hills, most people would give their right arm to run that fast a marathon on the flat” I knew I was moving to fast and for those of you that know me you will know that that is nothing new to me. Light it up early and pray God you can keep her lit is not the most successful race strategies but it sure as hell is fun, and I love having fun when I’m running!!
Not long after this I saw a runner just ahead and if you overtake the race leader that only means one thing, you’re in the lead and your about 2 mins away from getting a bolloxing from your wife and crew leader. So, I exchanged a brief word with Ciaron, he tried to get a read on me and I got a read on him wanting to get a read on me and we parted ways. I went on to take the wrong turn just ahead and prayed to God I wasn’t going to have to overtake him again in some sort of awkward Déjà vu “What just happened?” Type moment!! I quickly shot a voice message off to Jennifer (My wife, the boss) to say when you wake up you’ll see me in the lead but fear not I am running “Within myself” (Our crew
language for I’m running well and not running balls to the wall and even if I am I’m not gonna tell you.)
So here we were maybe 80/90 km into this monster in first place where I often find myself but yet to find myself there and also at the finish line. Shortly after I saw a sign to the town that I remembered I had written down as to where we would sleep for the first night!! It was about 10:00 am Saturday morning when I saw that sign!! We were well and truly too far ahead of the plan and badly needed a new plan. So I continued as I was going, hike to uphill’s and jog what I can of the rest but always, always run “Within myself” The Kms slipped by and as did the Wicklow way and were heading for a 100 mile day.
Saturday evening saw a change in the crew vehicle and Jennifer took over from Robbie and unfortunately, she knows me too well and quickly started to steady the ship. Jokes aside it wasn’t our first rodeo and we just got about doing, crew stops smooth as they were with Robbie it must be said, and we rolled though the Km’s. A good crew reduces the amount of thinking the runner must do and that’s a welcome break for a mind that is constantly trying to sort some internal battle that needs all your energy.
Into night 1 we went and circa 1 or 2 am Jen insisted I get a bit of sleep, gifted with the ability to literally sleep anywhere I sat into the passenger seat and bang, sleep ingulfed me. I was maybe 180km into this monster and still had no idea what it was going to take to see it out!! An unknown time later I turned to Jennifer (Sleeping in drivers’ seat) and said I don’t care what time it is the sun is coming up but I need another few mins sleep. I don’t mind if the lads pass me now, It was fun wasn’t it?. To which Jen informed me the two closest dots had also stopped for sleep and were still sleeping. I had not come to win; I had definitely not come to race. I had come to fulfil that one ambition and goal that was to finish, but the competitive monster that is in my belly heard that they were sleeping, and I still had the lead I went to sleep with, and it was then that I thought to myself, I might just be in a race here!! I took that extra 30 mins and got going, ate as much as I could, got shoes and socks as comfortable as I could, repeating my rules in my head and got back on track.
Saturday was day 1, usually story for me, go like hell and see where ya are. That makes Sunday day 2 and that was definitely race day. My rules were still steadfast, hike up, jog flat and down. That said due to a lifetime spent herding cattle and sheep on foot and walking a lot I am blessed with a fast power hike, and I believe that really stood to me during this event. I even commented to Jennifer that Sunday that I was pushing myself more on the hikes than anywhere else. Jen and I watched the dots in our mirror all Sunday and it seemed we were moving away from them if anything, I would take a time marker as I ran through or past a certain point and then clock how long till they passed through.
Sunday was hot, the roads heated up and with it my feet, I drank all I could and kept on top of electrolytes. It helped for nothing and come 6pm I was cooked. I sat into my comfort zone of the passenger seat and took off my shoes and shut my eyes, an hour passed, maybe more and the heat relented, and I laced up and moved again.
During Sunday some farming and family friends of ours came out to cheer us along and it was great to get a bit of normality to let me know life was continuing. I even managed to get a bit of farming talk into the conversation!!
Not only was Sunday race day, but it was also hilly day. I turned a corner in Clonmel I think it is and the road rose up to meet me like nothing I’ve seen before, It was just after a lovely river run and bang back to reality, but I hiked and hiked and hit the top, only to be met with what can only be described as a small jungle. As I said the line on my watch was the bible to me and it said go, so I went. I fought and hacked and ate briars and cursed a bit before I was beaten and fell clipping my elbow off a stone as I went down. Elbow sore but not giving in I took to a hands and knees mixed with pig ignorant push through and came out the far side, shock myself down, hoped not too many thorns found their way into my shorts. I looked back, smirked at the courses latest yet inadequate attempt to get me to press stop and jogged on!!
Halfway beckoned me that evening, the big bad 300 was not far away but if I knew anything I knew it was a long way to the top of the V. Darkness fell and another beautiful moon helped to form a shadow of a hill above me that gave it a monsteras impression on me. I ran for want felt like an eternity waiting and waiting for the trail to turn uphill as if being teased by the mountain, we will let you climb only when we say you can. At last, it turned and the legs began to burn once again, up and up, a road crossing I knew from a journey through years ago, but I know we weren’t finished, I was looking for a car park. Head torch and bright moon leading me as I went up again, knowing I was missing out on
some beautiful scenery I hiked onward. The beautiful calm peaceful night brought to life by the sounds of boy racer engines doing donuts and shouting and cheering each other on. I knew they were playing where I wanted to be. I hiked on. Their car headlights got closer and closer, both of us leading two separate lives, crossing in the most unusual of places, their headlights kept their identity a secret and mine did the same, we passed in the night and went on our way. Still not at the 300 but at the top of the V I thought it was an easy run in from here. I was wrong, only after that car park did the challenge start that night, it felt gnarly, I as tired, it felt uphill, I thought I was at the top. It was rough, I was unbalanced. It was a slog, and I was breaking!! Eventually I found road and knew Jen would be nearby. Into the passenger seat I went, shoes off, lights out!!
Monday now and the enormity of it all was starting to set in. Reminding myself of my rules and that during the previous day I had ran more km’s in this event than I had in total to date for 2024, I started to realise the task that lay ahead of my body. My watch always quick to remind me how many Km remained and the battle to reduce that number was ever growing!! Monday, I Christened, respect the distance. If I said those words to myself once that day I said it 1000 times. Respect the distance, respect the distance. I increased the amount of hiking, backed off as such. Although one of the dots looked to have tried to make a move Sunday evening, Monday was no longer race day, I had a cushion now, all
I needed to do was worry about myself now. I was racing and competing only with myself for today at least. Respect the distance.
Jen still crewing and we rolled on, we worked, Jen keeping real life issues at bay as I yep, you guessed it, respected the distance and lived in my head, hiking, slowing, thinking!! Stopping at stops was getting easier but starting after them was getting harder, so crew stops got snappy and this allowed for more hiking, less stopping and less jogging, like we do so often we made a plan as we go, and it worked for us so away we go.
Monday evening saw the return of Robbie in the crew car, and I wonder what changes he saw in me over the 48 hrs since he had seen me last!! Jen as I say had real life to return to but not before a night’s sleep, so she booked a bedroom in Mallow. During that night (Monday), and after my first real niggle behind my left shin and I believe right at the 400k mark I too left the course, I really didn’t want to, seeing it as a failure to leave the course, but we did, we drove the 25 mins and I slept for I think 4 maybe a bit more hours. Rob woke me, I hobbled out past the same hotel porter that let us in a few hours earlier, unable to explain I’m pretty sure he still thinks something very weird was going on that night, he’d have been right, I guess. Back on track and unknown to me where I was to stay for another day and a half I start away again. As if by magic the bit of horizontal sleep made my shin niggle disappear and I felt good and got a nice jog on all things considered.
After my scare the night before regarding the body staring to break, Tuesday became the day to protect the body. So as my mantra was the day before today, Tuesday, it was to protect the body. I could run, I even allowed myself run out of a dip or over a crest or lift the knees on a downhill, but I listened to every ache, every move was monitored, any weakness was given time to come back, if a stretch helped then I stopped and stretched. The distance to cover was still huge still over 100 miles, that’s an event, that’s enough to take me out of this event even if I felt perfect before the start so today is for the body, deep breaths, relax, run happy!!
The day went well, Robbie and I plugged along and from a trail point of view it was the absolute highlight, Duhhallow Way I think it was, was just amazing. I enjoyed every step; it was breath taking at times. We really do live in the most beautiful country. Unable to enjoy it to the most as my mind constantly reminded me it was more important to make sure my big toe didn’t try to move anymore immovable rocks that it was to say, “Oh that’s Pretty” We crossed into Kerry, another milestone, but still so far to go. I could sense by my phone starting to beep more often that people had started to realise they knew the person in the lead and that he might actually win. I on the other hand was becoming more and more aware of the risk that remained and the distance I still had to carry the body through. I was positive towards the crew, but we all knew we had a huge task ahead. People started
to meet me on course, yes people put themselves out to make a point to cross paths with my dot. Many if not all of them started with “Well done Ed” Each and every one of them getting a response I have rehearsed over a few Ultras now…… “Thanks, but I’ve nothing done yet” Some of you that got that response may be reading this and I always see the shock in your eyes, some of you even think, Jayus he is a bit rude and for that I apologise but just to explain I cannot let any other thought enter my head other than the fact that I actually have nothing done yet. I’m doing well …… maybe, but I’ve nothing done. It’s the small things on which big things crumble and for me I just have a line there. Rant over!!!
Although Tuesday had the best trails it also, out of nowhere and during rush hour threw myself and crew right out onto the N22. Wow, that was a shock. I picked up the pace, channelled my inner road runner, blocked out the pain and tried to get the hell off that road as I knew the Kerry Way was my reward. If you were to ask me my lowlight of the event its undoubtedly the N22 stretch!!
Sniffing their son might do something to be proud of my parents and planned crew for Wednesday into Thursday arrived down a day early to give me a much-needed hug, sight of a familiar face and brought pizza!! Energy levels rose again, runners (Really, really good, kinda famous ones) came out to show me the way onto the Kerry way and then it had a feeling of being home. I’ve ran the KWU a few times now and the piece of the Kerry Way we were doing was a welcomed piece of familiar trail. This period though was probably my worst nutrition management of the event, Tuesday evening running with great people on familiar trail, talking, laughing, running too hard and eating too little I bonked a little more than I would like and although I recovered quickly at next crew stop I feel it brought an end to my march that night a bit earlier than I would have liked. The target was to get to the Climbers Inn before wanting bed and push on if all is good. I was done much earlier and dragged my arse to the car inside the black Valley type area and Robbie and Mum resting in the Climbers as Dad and I took up residence in the front of crew car, the passenger seat now felt like a king size four poster cause by that
point it was all I knew!!
Wednesday, dare to dream. With still more than 10% to complete as I set of early Wednesday morning, I had an air of caution about me. I reminded the crew that we may finish today but the finish line is still a long way away. Robbie, Mum and Dad now crewed for me, I was tired, unable to process much, I needed everything spelt out to me. But one thing I didn’t need help with was the smell of sea air, and that moment I walked up over the Windy Gap to see the Atlantic Ocean for the first time is a memory I won’t let go for ever. Looking out from that height I toyed with another well-known phrase in my head. I think I can dare to dream that I might do this thing!!
I was fighting inside, I had body battles on many fronts and climbing up the fairy trail outta Glenbeigh just above my right knee that had a manageable niggle all morning exploded in pain. A quick message to Jen, Robbie and crew to let them know the end had started, just not sure which end would come first. More hiking, more mind battles, pain movement, pain ignoring and if you know what I mean, pain enjoyment. I played with pain like I never had to before. Stiles were a test I often failed, If I felt I was alone I screamed to release the pain, if Robbie or crew was nearby I enjoyed having to bottle it, enjoyed that I could control it and not vice versa!! Waves of good and bad came and went, I ran at times and felt like crawling at others. My running gate changed as I tried to move normally but lost
that battle and with that I could feel the blisters grow, shoe and sock changes became more common practice at crew stops. Crew stops got longer and I felt more and more beaten. But like we had been doing we slowly clipped the Kms away and and dragged and limped and hobbled but before we knew it I dropped down into Cahersiveen. Just the small matter of a half marathon to the end. Win lose or draw all I wanted now was to finish. With my eldest finishing national school that day and Jen meant to be at home with him it was a joy to see a familiar reg plate pass me out and pull in just ahead. Jen hopped out which was surprise enough to bring me to tears, then my younger lad jumped out and I couldn’t control it, the tears flooded down my face. I went on this journey to learn more about myself and by this stage I was studying a PHD in Ed and completely lost in an information overload!!
Jen did what she does best and slotted into crew and minded me on the road and together (with Robbie and my parents) we set out to finish a journey like none other. A school friend of mine came out to run with me, people shouted from the windows of their houses and people beeped (nicely) as they passed. This thing was gaining traction.
My watch clicked down, and we were into single digits!! I could see the bridge onto Valentia Island but as yet the end goal hid in a cloud of mist!! Trying a version of running and walking mixed to try clock the remaining kms Portmagee came, and we were on the bridge, the mist cleared, and I could see the tower. Target locked in, poles in hand, one last hike and I could say I had done something. The pain didn’t lift or move but my energy levels out classed it.
Glances from my Dad, whom I view as a giant, were full of respect.
Robbie’s voice on recent voice messages full of pride and keeping me informed as always.
My Mum, never stuck for a word, reminded me of how proud she was.
Aaron my youngest held up handmade signs not bothered if I’d been running for hours, days or weeks but pure love was in his eyes, and I felt it.
Jennifer knowing exactly what this meant to me, aware of why I was here, what it was that got me here and for what the body lacked my mind made up for and some!!
I passed all these people at different points on the way to the last summit and although it would have been great to have them at the tower to watch me finish it was fitting that they were all there as part of the journey not there for the fanfare at the finish line. With their respect, energy, pride, love and support I powered over the finish line and touched the tower as we had been instructed by Brian nearly 5 days earlier. Sip of Whiskey later and a chat with Edel and Stephen, I took a breath, cried with joy and allowed myself to soak it in. It was done!!
I’m not gonna say I’m a good runner but I must not be a bad one, I’m not gonna say I had a plan going into this race cause the one I had I tore up before I hit the marathon mark. I had one job to do and that was to collect a piece of slate at Bray head in Valentia Island and I considered myself to be on the start line and not an inch further until I had that slate. I was physically under prepared but mentally I had never been so ready. My vision was so clear, finish!! I had fallen asleep and woken up over the past many months struggling and battling with real life but always comforted myself when I thought and visualised myself finishing this race. So much so I was surprised to see the signal tower on Valentia
was square, I have visualised a round one!!
Thank you to Brian Byrne who I had the pleasure of meeting the following day, you have no idea.
Thank you, Robbie Williams and all the other race directors, dot watchers, tracker collectors, general good mood keepers, the event was carried out with such great attitude. It’s a credit to you all!!
I was lucky enough to run a few Km of the course with Robbie Williams on Saturday I believe and great to do so, much enjoyed Robbie, thanks. But for the record I wasn’t “Nearly there!!”
To my crew, faultless is the only word. Never missed a beat. What goes on tour stays on tour but my last voice message to the crew group as I closed in on the finish with less the 500 metres to go went something like
“Thank you, you have kept me alive, this group and the people in it have been the light at the end of some pretty fucking dark tunnels. Thank you!!” I was audibly in floods of tears (I’m a softy really)
To my wife, this was a big one, you said I shouldn’t do it because I hadn’t the miles in the legs but I think you knew that was exactly the echo I needed in my head as I spoke to the dark thoughts on the tough climbs. You are a rock!!
To all the other dots, in a way I feel we all worked together to attempt to master this task. Not that you need it, but you have my upmost respect for showing face in that casino that surreal night in June!
To everyone who came out on course to meet me, run with me or cheer me on, Thank you. I can only hope I was kind and gave you time for your effort. You all made a difference and helped me more than you know.
To the army behind the front line, grandparents minding kids, friends doing runs and drops to sports events etc so we could all get away, the team of people milking cows and keeping the show on the road as I was enjoying the scenery you were ploughing the furrow. Thanks.
I get the accolade and the praise of being the first person to cover this growling distance in less than 5 days. 115hrs,45mins and 59secs to be exact but it was a team effort, none of this would have been possible without Robbie, Jen, my parents, Jens parents, those that managed the farm, those that helped with the kids and those that believed and help us along the way!! I am the legs of a big and really cool team!!
I strongly believe you are only as good as your last run, so don’t be surprised if you never see me run again!! Over and out!!
Ed Payne.
Did I say, thank you, I should have!