One of the things I miss about working in Galway is the lunch and tea rituals. Lunch tends to be rushed or desk affairs in the US, and while the Irish abroad normally make time to go to the canteen here, I miss the long (and often frankly ridiculous) conversations over cornflakes. One long discussed issue with my colleague Declan over cups of stewed tea in Galway is my reluctance to sign up for any sponsored fundraising events which are less than something I’d roll out of bed for, say, for entertainment on a random Saturday (rules out climbing Croke Patrick, anything which involves ‘walking’ anywhere in Galway, any run under twenty miles, etc.) Declan was mystified by this. In theory, the actual event is a token to coax people to donate money to charity. My attitude is that if people are going to shell out good money to sponsor me for an endeavour, I should at the very least suffer for it; the money must be earned in blood. The last two years I chose a marathon for sponsored fundraising, and (especially the first year), I suffered authentically for it, both in training and on the day. Two years after terrifying marathon number one....well, it’s getting a bit old. So what next?
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