I Think it was Mark Twain who once suggested that Heaven was the place to go for good weather, but in Hell the company was better. In Kilkee this weekend past the very best of both of those nether worlds collided as Ireland’s tri family descended on the sundrenched West Clare town for "The Hell".
My journey started by picking up my travelling companion, an Alabaman born, half iron, all American, known better to you all as Kristen. I thought given the day that was in it and considering the cargo on board that I would do my 'Bord Failte' duty and bring Kris down the scenic route and off we headed down through Ballyvaughen, Lisdoon, Lahinch and so on. Now Kris is no fly by night yankee doodle tourist you know. I could tell, as she explained in great detail a full and complete understanding of the workings of the Lisdoonvarna Matchmaking festival.

"Ah yeah” I said,” I was at it once... mighty craic".
"Sooo weird" came the reply,
"Its clearly a cultural thing" I said,
Later that evening our other 'roomie' for the weekend John Flan arrived all Evil Kenivel style, we settled in, went next door for a bite to eat and retired to the apartment afterwards to watch the end of Spain Vs Chile. RTE finished the broadcast with an hilarious 'Apres Match' sketch. While John and myself were rolling around splitting our ribs laughing at the skit, the dumbfounded Kris could only bewilderedly suggest "Its a cultural thing, clearly"

"Is this Heaven or is this Hell,
Who knows and who can tell,"
(Christy Moore from the song 'Lisdoonvarna')

Some of the world’s finest golf courses skirt this part of Irelands coastline, Lahinch, Ballybunion, Waterville and so on. And it is important in the provenance of 'great' golf courses to have been designed by a reputable course designer. It is, however, widely recognised that the very terrain required to make great golf courses is not the fault of the designer but that of the geological history of the world.
Kilkee is just one of those places, where nature has selected it to provide the perfect location for our sport too. An almost completely enclosed bay which remarkably is just large enough to have a 1500m swim in a horseshoe shaped course. At the mouth of the bay are bold rocks, barely visible, which act as a natural breakwater as the torrential Atlantic makes landfall. The rolling hills and the beautiful scenery coupled with the stiff sea breezes make the same cycle route a very different proposition, depending on what way the weather is. Slightly longer than the standard 40K this course has everything, A couple of short steep rises, long winding descents, the odd grinding drag and an army of locals who come out every year to cheer and clap and enjoy the colour and fun of an event which is now essentially a part of the rich traditional fabric of this part of the world.

On the run, well its as simple as this, Its Heaven... except when you have to run up there, then it is Hell, pure Hell. Sea Stacks, whirlpools, Cliffs and the odd loon dressed up in a kind of green white and gold teddy bear suit ( and remember the sum burning like the infernos of you know where) dancing to some rubbish on a battery powered ghetto blaster. Heaven yes, Hell too.

On the race morning we headed down to transition where the organisers had the great idea to group all club members side by side in transition. Wonder where they got that idea from? Any thoughts Eileen? The sun continued to blaze as we made to the waters edge for the start. The water was reasonably calm with just a ripple across the top but not enough to make it uncomfortable. The first wave was carnage with, I think, a few too many in the wave especially at low tide where the course got a bit tight near the pier. None the less as we made the first turn the field stretched out a bit and the return leg was a bit more comfortable.

Like I said it was low tide so the run up to transition was long and got tougher as we got to the drier, deeper sand near the sea wall. As is usual though with this race the spectators came down to the beach, lined the route up the sand and cheered, whooped and hollered each and every competitor all the way up the beach. I doubt there was more noise about when Eisenhower disembarked his men up the beaches of Normandy all those years ago.

Into to transition and I forgot about my pre race mantra to myself. ("There are 4 things to do before you unrack the bike"). 1) glasses on, 2) helmet on and locked, 3) number belt on . What was the fourth thing, can't remember…. anyway I'm off. Unracked and off out to the mount line computer not running why? Reset it again, still not clocking, look down and the magnet has twisted around and is looking away from the sensor.. Hell. Look! Forget about it it’s a beautiful day out on the bike about to race around the hills of Clare, knowing the time and speed don’t matter.

Right before I start up the accent up out of Kilkee I'll get the first gel in. Better get it in before the effort of the climb. OH SHITE!.. that was the 4th thing. Glasses, number, helmet and gels. I left the gels in my upturned helmet so that I would remember to put them in my pocket when I came out. They must have fallen out when I lifted my helmet from my bike and swung it on to my head... or did they? Remember that experiment you did in school where if you swing a bucket of water around you head fast enough, the water remains in the bucket even though the bucket is upside down, Its to do with the way gravity works, could the fundamental laws of physics save me now? . A quick poke around inside the vents on my helmet and lo and behold... If I have a smash now, not only am I going to look stupid but I'm going to look stupid while covered in goo.

Managed to do enough poking to get the goo out of the helmet and into me, up the climb and happy days stick her into the big chain ring and enjoy the spin down. Hit that lever again Padraic, that derailluer didn't shift. Ok once more for luck, no good that’s it stuck for the rest of the day in the small ring. Now in all the tri’s I have competed in maybe a million people have passed me altogether on the cycle leg, but none of them ever on the descent, until today, ah well enjoy these falls you’ll have to suffer a little more on the drags into the solid wind on the way back. One more root in the helmet for a gel, take the turn dig deep and drive for home.

Into T2 and on with the runners and my trusty running hat and it’s on to the run and the rise to the top of the cliffs. Before I’ve left the prom I get a tap on the shoulder from a fellow runner, “You’ve just dropped your number back there “he says, so what do I do… yeah… I turn around and run back to have a look for it before the senses kick back in. “What in the name of God are you at” I loudly roar at myself, and I turn around again and head up the climb.

Tough and all as it is I try to keep the head up and watch for the first GTCers making their way back down. The Evergreen Pat Burke is followed by John Flan. They are to be followed closely by a young man who will make waves in the sport at this level in years to come. Remember the name of Oisin O’Carroll because it will appear at the top of results sheets for many races in the months and years ahead. Looks like Kristen will lead the ladies home with Chris Burke following to notch up her best ‘Hell’ yet. Like a good wine Chris… .

March all the way to the top and Limerick Tri club have introduced a new novel and indeed very welcome aspect to the run turnaround. Two fine ladies handing out kisses to anyone who would care for one. I like it. Tony take note, maybe we could position two of our finest at the turnaround in Carna? On the way home I meet Catherine and Martha, running side by side, holding hands all the way round. Soak in the views and as more and more people pass me many complement my hat, including one lady who just before she quite catches me wittily quips, “Nice hat Sir… ..really brings your eyes out”. Worth remembering that even if you are suffering in the fires of hell a sense of humour will take the edge off it.

Down the last hill, into the town along the sea wall towards the welcoming crowd and through the finishing Arch. So how did I do? What was my time? Well it’s fair to say when you are dealing with the abstract subjects of Heaven and Hell the timescales can become phenomenally long. But if you describe this weekend and this race on this weekend as Hell then I’m more than happy to spend all of eternity there, If you consider it Heaven … ditto.

CopyRight Galway Triathlon Club 2006