Aidan Hogan

08 May, 2011

Doon Hill Race 2011

As I had missed the first three IMRA races of the year (in Glenageenty, the Galtees and Millstreet), I had really been looking forward to this one for the last few weeks. My memory of last year’s course was patchy but I reckoned it was mostly fire road and gravel track with a short section through a few grassy fields. As we stood around chatting at the start of the race, it appeared that this year’s route was going to be slightly different to last year in any case.
There was a great turnout in excess of 50 runners, (with quite a few juniors who would run a shortened course) and we all assembled at an imaginary start line on the tarmac road to listen to Tom’s description of the route that lay ahead of us.

And then we were off! The gentle upward incline of the tarmac road changed to a steeper grade after about 200 metres, when we took a sharp left through a gate and into a grassy field. Red and white tape fluttered in the wind atop the series of pins which set out the course ahead of us. This section, although steep, was relatively consistent underfoot and continued in the same vein for the first half a mile. As I crossed a ditch at the top of one particular field, I gingerly sidestepped a large puddle of mud and was delighted to keep my runners shiny and clean. However, I shouldn’t have felt so smug as the next 200 yards involved trudging through a dyke of sh**e, which left each foot about a kilo heavier by the time I emerged from the other side.

From here, we continued through another field but this time the ground was much rougher, peppered with treacherous holes ideal for breaking ankles! Up next was the bog, which was nice and wet after the last few days of rain. At the end of the bog was the halfway marker where the juniors would turn and begin retracing their steps. For the rest of us, it was into the woods and along a relatively flat but very slippy-slidey firebreak before plunging back downhill on the fire roads. Although the downhill section was a welcome reprieve from the uphill slog, we all knew we would be struggling back up the very same hill in the near future.

At this point, I was hoping to see the race leaders thundering towards me around every corner, meaning that the turn-around point wasn’t far away. Thankfully Martin Bradshaw soon appeared, followed by Mike Cunningham in 2nd, Tom Blackburn in 4th, Sean Harte 5th and Ger Griffin 6th. After that, I kept count of the runners that passed me and reckoned that I was in 18th position at the turnaround. As I grabbed a drop of water from the lads in the van, it felt like a long way back and it wasn’t all going to be downhill either. With 32 minutes on my watch and my less than excellent descending ability, I set myself a target to finish in the top 20 in under an hour.

After about a half a mile, there was a short downhill section and I was passed by Loretto Duggan, who politely urged me to come with her. I politely declined, citing a lack of the reguired energy and convinced her to go on without me – I’d be OK! I have to say I was impressed by the sports(wo)manship she displayed and managed to find a little reserve of gas to try and cling on to her coat-tails. On the steeper uphill sections of fire-road we resorted to walking, with the occasional spurt of jogging and I slowly crept past Loretta and entered the slippy-slidey fire break with a slender lead. I then took a hopper due to the aforementioned slippy-slidiness, but got back on my feet without surrendering position. When crossing the bog, my pursuer was still hot on my heels and when I plunged deep into a bog-hole and left out a desperate wail, I heard a delighted giggle from behind me. At this point I was beginning to think that the previous sporting gesture was in fact all part of a cynical tactical manoeuvre, designed to undermine my confidence and break my spirit. The plan was soon complete when Loretto skipped nonchalantly past me as we entered the “ankle-breaker” field, clearly far braver than I, who tip-toed delicately across towards the squishy refuge of the “dyke of sh**e”.

From here to the end, it was just a case of getting home. I knew there was no hope of catching those in front and there didn’t seem to be any danger from behind. I hit the line with 4 seconds to spare (according to my unofficial timing anyway) for my 60 minute target in what I think was 19th place. Although, as I rounded the last bend someone shouted at me that I was in 16th place, so hopefully I’m not as good at counting as I think I am.
All in all, it was a thoroughly enjoyable race, despite a few showers of driving rain that would knock the cobwebs off you. The race has a bit of everything really, with the underfoot conditions changing frequently to keep things interesting. My only regret is that I had to leave straight after I finished, and missed out on the sambos, appletart and tea. Appletart – MMMMMMMM!!!