Doing the best that I can, at writing, running and living
It was a race of two halves. I’ve often been told that a marathon’s second half begins at twenty miles, and the second half yesterday was noticeably different from the first. I didn’t expect my hottest marathon to be in Ireland, in September. It felt even warmer than when I ran in Greece for the… Continue reading Dingle Marathon
As we jogged along the road in Cloghane, the American came out of his house with the re-cycling. He cheered us as we hailed him and continued on. It was a small village. Padraig (pronounced ‘Pohrag’) had introduced himself the night before, by the fire in O’Conner’s. His was the only table free in the… Continue reading The Night Before
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