Image

I couldn’t sleep. The butterflies in my tummy were circling like the Hitchcock film The Birds. Clock finally went off at 5.50 and I got up – wrecked. This was going to be a day I was never going to forget for the rest of my life. It was Connemara Ultra Marathon day at last. Weeks and weeks of training and preparation led me to this morning – and I got up absolutely jaded – typical!

Prep was meticulous. My wife Claire always marvels at how I prepare so well for a race yet when I’m sent to town for the groceries, I always forget the milk! One of life’s mysteries! My two great girls Amy and Grainne had my food bags ready and packed. Ray said to make them visible – by golly they were visible. From “Hon Kilconieron” to "Never give up Daddy” in bright colours, they were going to be the easiest recognisable bags by far! Anyway – gear on – vaselined to the point I felt as if I could glide the course – I hit off.

Image

All farming duties were handled by my beautiful (but long suffering!) wife Claire and my 3 great kids. Never drove through Galway so easily – so I made the bus handy. Twas then things started to sink in. The bus was full of people doing exactly the same as me! Thing is – they all looked so sane! They ranged from beautiful peaches (girls), to crusty ould lads (that would be men!), and absolutely every thing in between. For some reason at that point, the nerves took over. I suddenly felt like a 5 year old on my first day at school checking my bags of food made by my kids – a strange change of roles!

We got there – as expected highly organised – Ray reigns supreme at his job. The briefing was funny yet poignant and without further ado we were bussed the mile or to the start. I felt strange – sharing such elusive company as Keith, Gerry and Vassiliy etc. but also loads and loads of first timers just like myself. I tried to make conversation but it was very cold and people weren’t in the mood for talking.

After 10 minutes, Ray and Alan let us off. It was great to go as we were freezing. As we passed through Maam Cross the few people there cheered us on but it was humbling to see the greatest Ultra runner of them all Mick Rice give his club mate a big roar as we hit west. He will be back next year.

Off we hit for Recess – wind in our backs –God this is lovely I thought. I made some conversation with some lads but they were going too fast for me – so I had to pull back at 5 miles as I wouldn’t make 10 miles if I kept going at that pace. I had hoped I wouldn’t pay for that later.

My first food bag was at 10 miles.  It was very welcome. I got very emotional as I hated dumping the hand crafted bag with all the inspirational logos designed in my honour. It was at this point I noticed the wind. It was quite cold – blowing into my right cheek as we approached Lough Inagh. I didn’t realise we were at the full marathon start point until I was right at it. Ignorance of the course I suppose. I decided to use the portaloo. No one around I thought. To my shock – Marek my TG4 cameraman mate was filming me as I was going into the loo and as I came out Deirdre Quinn hollering at me and JAL going strong with the camera!  So much for doing your business in Connemara!! It was great to see them though. James was giving me sound grown up advice while busy with the camera and Dee was her usual “Go on Athenry” self. It was heartening to see them and indeed I was quite sad leaving them. James was concerned that I was going a bit quick and advised me to pull back a bit. I hoped it wouldn’t come back to bite me later.

Image

As I left them I started to tighten up a bit I my chest as the wind picked up. My times dipped a bit as my legs started to feel a bit heavy. Nothing to worry about I thought - it’ll pass.

It didn’t pass. As I turned right near Letterfrack on to the N59 - I was worried. Had I gone out too fast – yes – gobshite as always trying to be the big man. Had I not enough clothes on – deffo – I was freezing as now the biting east wind was in my face. A sudden fear set in on a steep uphill as both my legs started to cramp up. I had to stop. I hadn’t cramped in years and I was never more prepped for a race. What’s going on??  I got going slowly again after it seemed half the world passed me and was glad to get to my second food station on 23 miles.

My legs were heavy, my chest was tight and my times were slowing rapid and I hadn’t even got to Leenane!! I looked down at the food bag and my daughters’ inspirational logos and started to work out a few things in my head. Ok – at this pace and with the way I feel, I’m not going to break 6 hours. Am I going to finish at all? I never had a DNF in my life – by God I’m not having one today – not while clutching a bag with “Go on Daddy” on it! If this was the last thing I was going to do I was going to do this for my kids. If it takes all day I’m not going to let them see their Daddy as a quitter.

So gears down and on I trudge to Leenane along Killary Fiord. Even though I had a reprieve on the head battle – I thought these few miles into the village were the hardest bit of running in my life. In fact – to date probably the toughest thing I ever did in all my life was to get to Leenane. My relationship with Killary is seriously broken down at this point and will take a lot of mending. The cold – oh the cold! With no gloves and no sleeves and a bit of blind panic – I wanted to lie down and die! I had the idea of zip locking the food bag onto alternate hands just to keep some heat in my fingers. It really helped – needs must.

Finally I made it to Leenane – shattered, freezing, demoralised and my times completely gone down Killary Fiord in the east wind. I had two pairs of socks so in the village I had the idea of taking off one pair and putting them on my hands! Ok not so hygienic but I didn’t care. Again I felt emotional dumping the colourful and inspirational food bag which had literally carried me thus far.

Twas at this point I saw George and Ruthann. God it was great to see two familiar faces. George ran towards me and encouraged me on and Ruthann was so inspirational telling me it was shorter to stay going. It was just what the doctor ordered and for some reason at that point my mood changed.

As I left Leenane, Ruthann and George and that dreaded Killary, my spirits picked up as did the strength in my legs and chest. The wind – though ever present – was blowing into my left and didn’t feel quite as bad. It is by far the most scenic pert of the course and indeed a lovely half marathon course. I had a resurgence of power and energy and my times actually climbed back to near where they should be at this point – sadly I would never regain what was lost and would be lucky to break 6.20.

With that in mind – I started to enjoy myself. Lots of people – halfers, fullers and ultras and the craic was good. As I started to pick off some runners I felt the encouragement from them and it gave me great strength. The Ultra on my back was a great source of pride in myself for getting this far and started to feel good about it.

My last food bag was at mile 32. I was going to enjoy this one as it was my last. The guys manning the food stations from miles 32 to 37 were from Clarinbridge GAA and Camogie so the banter was good.

My legs felt good and my times kept improving as we hit the last hill before home. I climbed it like it wasn’t there! Oh – if I could have ran like this at mile 25! Still I was happy – a strange sense of childish happiness just like I’ve done something I shouldn’t! As I started to hear the public address I couldn’t take the smirk off my face. I think I was smiling for a full mile and a half going at 8 minute pace! You can see Maam at a mile out and it’s all downhill. I was waving at the people – you would swear I won the bloody thing!! With 400 to go I met Chris and Orla – my two neighbours who helped me through so much in the last few months. The perfect people to see at this point.

The waterworks started as I approached the finish – familiar faces were there – James, Iain, Andy and Ray and congrats all round. 6.21 was the finish time. I started to explain why it took so long – but I was told to shut up – I had just conquered the Connemara Ultra for the first time. Worry about the times another day – I was told.

Image

Probably the most humbling moment of all was to be presented my medal by Mr Ultra himself – Mick Rice – who said I did a great race. Again I started apologising for the time but was put in my place and told to enjoy the moment. I rang home – to great congrats and told them how the food bags carried me home – in every way!

It’s a humbling unforgiving course with nowhere to hide – and there were places where it won some battles but I did win the war and I conquered the Connemara Ultra! If I can do it - -anyone can and I mean that!

It was late. I was a long time on the road and all I wanted to do at this point was to get back as soon as possible to the most important people in my life – my family. It was a wonderful moment when I got home. I again explained how the food bags with their inspirational messages altered my mood at critical times and literally carried me home.

At this point I want to thank my 3 wonderful kids – Amy, Gráinne and Michael for totally supporting their mad Daddy in doing what he does. And to my rock – the person who has moulded me into what I am, who encouraged me to go out for a run 5 years ago, my loving wife Claire. I’m certainly not perfect husband or father material but they have encouraged and inspired me on this journey and will on many more and to them I am eternally grateful.

Patrick Forde - April 2013.