Happiness is...

Yesterday, the 6th day of April in the year of our Lord 2008, the day of the Connemarathon dawned bright and cold over Galway. We looked out the window to see frost, hail showers and also scorching sunshine. Typical start of April weather; the rí mhógs as my mother calls it.

The 3,500 strong crowd gathered at the start line in Leenane, taking in the majesty of Killary Harbour in the shadow of Mweelrea. We reluctantly stripped off jackets, hats and scarves and huddled together for warmth before the race began at high noon. 50 yards down the road a local leaning on his gate shouts support - 'Nearly there!' We guffaw at the hilarity of it but deep inside I know it's not funny.

Before we reach the first mile marker the sun appears and suddenly we're running in a tropical paradise. By mile 2 we're positively scorching and discarded jackets and hats start to litter the ditches on either side of the road. Blue skies, the sun on our faces, babbling brooks and waving heather; the first 8 miles were really quite pleasant.

After that....well no amount of pleasant landscape could disguise our legs' dissatisfaction at having to tackle hill after hill after hill. Burning pain took us over Failmore river and blinding agony up the long slow incline of the 'Hell of the West'. Every so often you could get some water at the side of the road or overhear a conversation between two runners but mostly it was just you and the road, each as stubborn as the other.

And then, suddenly, the end was in sight - crowds of people lined the thirteenth mile and wells of energy sprang forth to keep us going. At 2 hours 10 minutes on the clock I crossed the finish line.

Never was I more happy to see Maam Cross in all my life... Medals and hugs, the most delicious food and refreshing drinks followed - happiness it turns out is as simple as not having to run anymore ;)

Currently I'm suffering stiffness and pain in pretty much every muscle in my body from my hamstrings, quads and calf muscles (expected) to my back, shoulders and even the intercostal muscles between my ribs (unexplained). I'm moving with all the grace of an arthritic 90 year old.

Apparently John Treacy's four principles of training prior to the 84 Olympics were "Believe in yourself, know yourself, deny yourself, and be humble." So I will be humble and say that I'm no athlete. I also know myself, however, and if I choose to do a full marathon in the next few years I will do it. I just need to decide to do it.

That's the hard part.