Five Bromley Vets (4 runners & one mascot) flew to Dublin on a cold Saturday afternoon at the end of October. But the weather was no indicator of the warm Irish welcome awaiting us, and despite some chill winds, it was a most memorable three days.
We were staying at separate hotels; Jane and Phil in the posh race headquarters hotel, and Chris, Ann and I stayed at a tourist hotel, in a great little suite with a kitchenette. Perfect, we thought. Between 11 pm and 2 am the flaws in the arrangements became obvious. An in-hotel disco seemed to be located in the room next door, and closing time meant dozens of loud, happy revellers spilling onto the street in a most vocal manner. Sleep was interrupted, but spirits were not dampened.
On Sunday morning there was a Fun Run planned at a fabulous leisure facility just north of the city centre. There were good numbers of Americans with ample t-shirts to swap, and the mood was buoyant and friendly. After a short 2-mile run, we were all ushered into the club area for a continental breakfast with bottomless cups of very good coffee, traditional Irish music accompanied by River Dance-style dancers, backed up by endless images of the England Rugby Team on countless TV screens around the club. We left the club at noontime feeling like we’d had a full day.
We took a tour bus ride around Dublin that afternoon, but the temperature was dropping and the sky was darkening. The bus driver was charming and funny, but our minds were already on the morning to follow.
Our night’s sleep was interrupted again at about 2 am, this time it sounded as if the clubbers were shouting football chants in the street.
Monday morning we awoke early in order to eat breakfast and prepare for the race. The sky was clear and the air was cold. We planned to walk the 20 mins to the race start as a warm-up. We met up with Jane and Phil in time to store bags and queue for the loo. The juxtaposition of the port-a-loos in the shadow of these stately Georgian mansions in this Dublin square, with queues of hundreds of runners in various stages of undress will remain with me for some time. Oscar Wilde, the square’s most famous resident, would have enjoyed the spectacle.
The start was a bit of a scrum at a T-junction, with no barriers between runner and spectator. As a spectator, I was pressed up against a storefront by runners who couldn’t see the start and who didn’t know where they were in relation to the start line. But the gun finally sounded, and the race was on.
I was able to see Phil, Ann and Jane at 11 miles, and then, thanks to the canal as my guide, I saw them again at 18 miles. Chris was running so fast I missed her at both spots. I got to the finish in time to see Ann and Jane finish in personal best times. The sun had been shining all morning and the temperature was quite comfortable, warm in the sun. Phil’s time was 3:46, Chris 4:05, Ann 4:23 and Jane 4:37. There were no tears, no injuries, only proud smiles and well-earned praise.