Sligo on a very wet and freezing cold early Saturday morning

in the middle of one of the wettest January in recent memory.

One to warm the cockles of the heart? Absolutely not!

Lady wife was not impressed with my upping stumps to head off

to a "nothing" (Connacht Cross-Country) race, thus negating a

full day's house work and interaction with our kids. Who was

I more afraid of: my wife or Mick Rice? Answers on the back

of a 20 euro note please!

Mick drove and did his best to get us there well before the

start. Team: Mick Rice, Peter Delmer, Gary Doherty (who

travelled separately but stopped off in Knock for a few

minutes 'reflection' on the road) and Johnny O'Connor. Oh and

myself, along for a "training run."

Had just finished off my first ever three weeks of 20+ miles

each. In the process, I was just about holding off a case of

shin splints. Wouldn't have to worry about them up here if

legendary stories of previous jousts on Sligo's horse race

racing course were to be believed: planks of wood mysteriously

flying up and hitting fellow-clubmates and mud up to runners'

bellybuttons.

We got there and the place was almost deserted. Went down to

the local leisure centre and loitered with no intent for a few

more minutes. In the meanwhile, the GCH car pulled in and out

stretched Thornton, O'Connor, Egan etc. That was moment when

our team prize chances went up in smoke, we realised!

A little while later, we went back up to the course itself and

started to dip our little toesies outside the warmth of Mick's

people carrier. It was flipping freezing. The sort of

weather that dogs would be insulted to be thrown out in, let

alone allow willing adults to run around a bog in.

The women's race was getting kicked off and we ventured out

around the newly built tarmac track that goes around the

inside of the "railing" around the horse racing course. I was

buckled after doing that two KM and I hadn't even put on the

spikes yet.

The women's race started. If the ISPCCCR (Cross Country

Runners) had been there, the race wouldn't have been

permitted. Did I already mention the rain, the cold, the

wind, the hills, the rushes, the muck, the large puddles of

water? And that was only on the first 200 metres of the race!

The women had only to do two laps but after one circuit, there

were a few of them seriously tailed off. My fate the next

time around? Doubled!

Myself and Doherty decided to get our feet wet and slosh

around on a _dry_ part of the horse circuit. I would have

gladly taken oxygen at the end of that little out-and-back

too.

The women's race finished off, rather the first four (out of

12 or 13) crossed the line and the lads were let off.

At this stage, having "competed" in two AAI Novice

cross-country championships (7th last of 140 ['03] and 190

['04]), I knew what to expect. The leaders were almost 100

metres ahead of me by the first turn. It was already a race

for me to avoid being last.

About 6 of us were tailed off the back after less than three

minutes of the race. This was going to be "our" race. Myself

and a Mayo lad were swapping last place, with your man playing

silly buggars, or at least that what it seemed from where I

was standing, sorry, running. He jostled me out of the third

corner and then cut in ahead or me on at least two other

occasions. Did he think he was leading the race or something?

I've gone past caring about such stuff so what relatively

happy to stick in behind him and let him do the hard work...

After most of the first lap was run, he dropped back, not to

be seen again. The effort he expended staying on the racing

line must have shagged him completely :). (I did have the

good grace to remain at the line at the finish and clap him

in, as he finished a good two minutes after me. He almost

blanked me, as did his teammate who finished just in front of

me. Their loss! More later.)

Had found my feet after the first lap, relatively speaking.

Circuit was quite undulating with the short hill before the

final long and punishing incline being the most gut-wrenching,

in my opinion. I had four runners in my sights for most of

the first and second laps. This was cut to three during the

third lap (O'Connor was 7 to 10 seconds a lap faster than me)

and eventually two during the final loop of the course. The

rest of the field didn't matter to me, until the end of my

third lap that is.

With the likes of Gary Thornton in the field, I instinctively

knew that a "lapping" incident was very possible. This I

played by ear during the first 2.5 laps. I knew for that last

half lap that I was running for my racing life as Thornton was

coming up behind me, quickly.

I knew this to be the case as the course doubled back on

itself around half way and he was about 80 or 90 seconds

behind at that stage. I did make it through the line and

onwards onto my final lap with a few seconds to spare as I saw

and heard all four spectators and two officials shouting

"C'mon Gary" as I struggled onto my final loop. Where was my

encouragement?

At this stage, O'Connor had opened up a ~30 second gap on me.

My "friend" in last was so far back that I hardly could see

him, not that I was looking out for him or anything. I was

much more intimate with Doherty and the other Mayo lad who

Doherty had gone ahead of at this stage.

I was really hopeful of nabbing Doherty as he'd (according to

himself!) only trained three times in two months. Was only a

handful of seconds down on him going into the final lap. I

was primed...

At this stage the course was well and truly cut up, with

little chance of getting a decent foothold going into a lot of

the corners. The boggy patches had gotten boggier, if that

was possible.

Doherty finally got ahead of the Mayo lad at this stage and it

looked like my only chance of not finishing second last lay

with passing my green and red fellow-traveller. He was

getting worried as he looked back first at the very extremity

of the course i.e. with about 6 minutes running to go. Must

have heard my wheezing behind him? He sped up a little,

either trying to stay ahead of me or attempting to catch

Doherty?

I didn't get within reach of him again until less than two

minutes to go, and on the way up the final hill. At this

stage he had looked back twice more. I had him, or so I

thought! My legs were sliding all over the place and my

legendary final burst was mis-firing. Up and around the final

turn and I was sliding around the place like I was on a bloody

ice rink. Couldn't build up any head of steam at all. He

looked back at least three more times in the final 200 metres

but got home about three or four seconds ahead of me

nonetheless.

Is it bad manners, or is it just me, but should your man have

shook hands with me at the end? He walked off into the

distance and off the course straight after finishing. If it

was me, I'd have made sure to have had a word with the person

who was chasing me down for nearly four miles through a bog?

Mayo people must be very shy altogether or...?

Strangely enough, I didn't feel completely shagged at the end.

Bent over for a few seconds and was up and about almost

immediately. I could have fairly easily done another lap at

11:00 pace but during the race itself couldn't speed up any

bit.

Got a shower down in the leisure centre and discussed the race

with the other lads for a bit. Not too often that I finish

only 6 places behind Rice in a race so it wasn't all bad.

Athenry finished fourth club out of four but second in the

county race, though only Delmer and Rice get medals for that

as it's only the first 6 finishers from the county who score

and thus get keepsakes.

Stopped on the way home in Curry for a bite to eat. No, not

for a curry either! Heard that Leeds won 1-0 against Stoke

near Athenry. Home just after 5:30 PM. The day was gone...

Wifey and kids mightily impressed by my efforts on the day

though, not!

04:13.22

05:53.92 10:07.14

04:33.55

06:01.92 10:35.47

04:38.39

05:59.76 10:38.15

04:39.29

05:59.44 10:38.73

--------

41:59.49 (8 or was it nearly 9KM?)

James.