Seán Harte

21 August, 2012

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Seán Harte

21 August, 2012

The runners huddled under whatever shelter they could find to stay out of the torrential rain, as Tom Blackburn gave the pre-race briefing. We were to head up the path and turn right when directed by the marshal, Brian Byrne, although that was to Brian’s right so we would actually be going left... From there we had to head towards the lake, not getting too close to it, but instead staying high along the ridge until we got to the steep climb to the top plateau. Then we had to keep the lake to our right until we met back up with the original path where it crossed the stream coming off the lake, and finally head back down to the start point.

Vivian O’Gorman started the timer and we were off! The rain, combined with an unwillingness to get wet, didn’t give me much chance for a warm-up so I started in the middle of the pack. That unwillingness to get wet was soon forgotten about though as I was soaked to the bone from the rain in our faces and the 6 inches of water at our feet. Was this a path or a river we were running in?
I picked off a few places as the route got steeper, and could count six people ahead of me, with Mike Cunningham leading Tom. There was a bit of chopping and changing of places and by the time we reached the flattish section of the path, I found myself in fourth position as I was directed off the path by Brian. From here up was in thick mist, so I could only catch rare glimpses of runners ahead and behind as they trudged through this boggy section. The final climb was the steepest of the day and needed use of all four limbs to scramble up it. It was made easier though by knowing that from there it was all downhill.

The top plateau was fully exposed to the wind and rain. I’d been up here earlier in the summer, and there were flocks of sheep wandering around then, but they must have had better places to be on days like this... I couldn’t see any other runners, or much of anything, along here, but the third place runner came into view on the initial descent from the plateau over the loose rock. He had taken a more direct route over looser rocks, but I followed a well-worn path that was easier to run on, and got past him. From there on, my race is a blur of slipping, sliding and splashing on, over and through the rocks, bog and heather. I didn’t see any more runners either ahead or behind, only confused looking hikers, until I reached the finish line.

Summer arrived on the descent as the clouds separated, and the weather turned pleasant enough that runners sat in the stream at the finish line to cool their legs, and discuss the race. There I found out that Mike had veered a bit too close to the lake on the way up, allowing Tom to get ahead. They traded places a few times after that but Tom ended with a narrow win in the end. Unfortunately, Summer soon left again, but we still enjoyed the fresh sandwiches being made to order by Tom’s family from the boot of his car. And we all returned to huddling under whatever shelter we could find to stay out of the torrential rain!