Irish Mountain
Running Association

Belmont and Little Sugar Loaf

Authors

Dave DochertyMikey Fry

Midpack Glut.

So here we are now, the first race of the Leinster League 2022, who knows what shape we are all in after the long Covidy off season. I’ve done some long races over winter so it’s all a little hard to judge. And if the Killiney Hill race last week is any yard stick for what kind of fast-ish running I have in the legs, I’d have to say. “yeah, maybe a bit of speed, but it hurts… and only in small bursts”. So I approached Belmont on my little white bike with some trepidation. Coupled with a slightly ropey belly, I ate too much too late. Thought I’d have time to digest, nope, but we’re here now, let’s get on with it.

It’s a stunning evening. Not too hot, not too cold, slight fresh breeze and a bright evening sun still high in the sky. Belmont is a buzz with runners all catching up with one another and some new faces getting a feel for this IMRA thing.
Our RD for today is the ever confident and commanding Angela who is on what must be her tenth RD role over the last year. She presides over a small army of volunteers who efficiently and casually process the que of runners most of whom seem to be relaying stories of one injury after another back and forth as they nervously eyeball the gravel path shooting straight to the summit. I look around jealously at the volunteers she has, I have signed up to RD PWS in two weeks and my volunteer list painfully short. I take her aside and add a request to her already immensely long list of things to deal with. I help out a bit with the early starters, a big bunch tonight.

Then I think about a warm up. I gently head out the race route and the belly starts to summersault, the legs and hips are stiff so I try some strides, this is worse. Without too much detail I had few little voms and felt better for it, really got to eat earlier for these things. I trot back to my bike to get some water. Beth Stephens is here, also back from injury. We chat for a bit about all the treatments we’ve had in common and I warn her to keep her distance during the race.

We gather at the start line, Angela stands up on the fence for the pre-race briefing of “that hill over there”. And as requested, she guilt’s the entire crowd out of it for not volunteering enough, (good woman Ange) and even points out one of her volunteers who is volunteering on her very first race (good woman Sarah). I get in to the mid pack, beside my buddy Con (another committee member who does way too much for the club. Happy Birthday Con).

And we are off. Out a fire-road from the carpark and into wide gravel undulating twisting trails, we are making a bit of an anti-clockwise loop of the estate to begin with. The belly is still abit weird but I’ll take it handy for now. The last time I ran on this path was near the end of Eco-trail race last year and felt much worse then. Reminiscing puts a bit of optimism in the legs, I push on a bit. I look up ahead at who I might wanna chase, there a few up ahead that I would love to try get past but the optimism won’t stretch that far. We are out of the woods now and its flattened out but still a hill drawing us up to the killer climb. Tommy Tumbler is just in front so I set my sights on him, he is moving quick and it’s tough to keep up, I try to stay with him. We pass through a gate manned by our President Laura perched on a boulder awaiting John Shiels to capture the pose, that could someday become a template for one of the many statues of our leaders that might line the Wicklow way in another 40 years. I catch Tommy and slip past. Rachel, (another future statue no doubt) also commanding her Marshal duties atop a plinth of granite surveying the army of sweaty ants trudging their way up what will feel like a sixty degree hill. Shay is at the next gate and this is where the hurt starts, if your still running at this point, your nuts! Tommy runs past me and continues to run the whole thing even as it gets steeper. I power hike behind him in awe, sweat now stinging my eyes and blurring up my sunglasses. At the top of this hill we take a left and now on flat trail that slowly increases into a hill, I’m running with one spicy eye closed expecting to roll my ankle at any moment. Stopping to quickly mop up some sweat with my buff I can see we are at the techy bit towards the first summit. I join the que as we quickly make our way up the pile of large rocks catching my toe and stumbling a few times, this is sure sign that I’m at or near my limits, or need smaller shoes. I get past few along the top and now Beth is beside me asking how’s the belly?

There are a few human tripods squatted around the summits, hard to tell who they are with the cameras stuck to their faces, judging by the voice I think it was Andrew Hanney. Myself Beth and Tommy jostle for position down the dip and back up to the second summit (has anyone else ever looked at this mountain and thought “Camel Toe”??) as we descend the second summit, I think I’m ahead, it’s hard to tell while dancing between those spikey rocks. There’s one guy in front, we are all trying not to fall, he offers to let us past (gent), someone shouts “wire” so we all shout wire. There’s even some loose shale here, this race has it all. I can still here Beth on my heels so I try pick up the pace, we are back to easy trails as we pass some sort of gallows that I assume the locals use for impaling the heads of their enemies. Must ask Ange sometime.

Down the hill and a very sharp 180 right turn, a few head go straight on, we try call em back. As I think to myself I’m glad didn’t miss that, dopes, somebody calls me back to the right and uphill. I push up the hill, legs are getting tired now and a few windy burps just to remind me it’s not gone away ya know. The sweat has ruined my glasses again so I stop for a few seconds and give them a wipe while complaining about it, a few runners pass while asking if I’m Ok. We pop out near Shays gate and take a left, a quick chicane around Rachel’s boulder, we are back to the bottom of the killer climb, it’s still a decent hill at this point, a steep gravel trail. There are two options here, slowdown and control the run or throw yourself down the hill, I opt for the latter. Apparently this what the pros like Killian Jornet do, use the downhill as recovery. I pass two guys with my killer strategy. We take the left, they pass by me again. Right, down a narrower hill past Laura and left for the burst energy to take it home, but there is no energy. Few more windy burps, just keep moving now. I haven’t studied the course but from last year I remember the extra bit of lumpy mountain bike trails they threw on the end of the race just to treat us, so I hold back a little, a few more pass me clever enough to keep some in the tank for the finish (or are just fitter). Back to ups and downs of the perimeter path we came out, it feels much longer now. I hear the crowd cheering at the finish line. More burps. Turn right, relieved that mountain bike bit is blocked with tape, thank god. Ok people are cheering, better try run fast. Cross the mate and find some nice soft grass to collapse on. Must, do, more, training. It shouldn’t be this hard.

I get up and wander round, Beth points out that I look like sh*t, “why are you so pale?” It shouldn’t be this hard… I clean myself up and mooch around for a lift to the pub. Found one for the bike first (thanks John) then Ger Power got my worn out body there (thanks Ger). I self-medicate with a pint ( thanks again Ger) and am soon feeling better. There’s sausages and chips, lovely. Results are gleamed from the laptop beside me by Alister and John, Ange shouts out the prize giving, well done to winners, they put us all to shame. The raffle is usually the highlight but tonight its presenting John Shiels with an award for outstanding service in the hills. There would only be half the photos in the club if it weren’t for John. Lots more chats and a couple more pints. I’m offered a lift home in the IMRA presidential motorcade which the bike and I gladly take.

Another great start to the summer of Wednesday nights. I can only hope PWS goes half as smoothly. Fair play to the Angela, her crew and the committee.

I’ll see ye next week. And don’t forget to VOLUNTEER!!!!!!!!

Little big little..

Talking boom the boom and the legs r moving maybe to fast for an old lad but they move forward and that’s the main thing Jakers there was some fast lads there and bombed off Conor and Niall and more eventually hit a bit of a hill wow but pól and Gerard thought there were mountain goats and charged ahead Ben and Dan messing around me and others till we got to the right turn up the side of the loaf it was four legs machine gun running walking whatever you call it across the top and started to take some runners on the downhill we’re I a least had a chance passed Ben out Dan pòl but new I’d see them again and others didn’t know them rounding the bend after decent heading back up hill I new there was another sneaky hill on the right going up so took it easy few passed hit turn up up up passed good old Jim plodding away nicely went after Dan who was going well tried to put as much space between me and the lads behind since I knew last bit I’d be struggling loads so pushed hard flying down the side of the loaf passed lazy race marker pete doing some clap clap clapping on to the stinking fire road pathy bit turned right flew down last hill Steve passed me somewhere around here got to final up hill had some strength still in my legs passed Steve again got to bit along by the road pushed hard but couldn’t hold off old Ben went after him Steve passed me again turned right onto final stretch I decided why not go for sprint managed to get passed Steve again wrecked then saw he was coming so final dash over the mat flat on my face wrecked thanks again angel and all the crew for a brutal fast hard fun race as always…..I think it was the warm up with Gavin the free vouchers dude and chats that got me through it…… good day Imra ….