Taking the Emirates route via Dubai I flew the long way to Dublin. Perhaps 18 hours. I forget. But the good people were there to meet and I was hustled into the car for the next 5 hour leg to Killarney, near the western seaboard, and home of the start and finish of the Kerry Way Ultra and the finish of the Ultralite runs. (The 120 mile Kerry Way Ultra is a circular route while the 55km Ultralite is a point-to-point route starting in Sneem and finishing with the bigger run in Killarney).
Why I had agreed to this run escapes me. There was no good reason other than it looked like a nice place to run with a profusion of seductive and captivating pictures littering the internet. I am a real sucker for pretty places. So Killarney it was and on arrival it was explained that this town, in the Kerry district, is the heart of holiday country in Ireland, luring visitors from all over and especially from America.
Killarney is a small town with a vibrant tourist buzz contrasting with the relaxed demeanour of the locals. It was also surprisingly busy with vehicular traffic, alarmingly interpolated with anachronistic horse carts. The tolerance and respect for the equine tradition was a real eye-opener and increased my respect for the locals exponentially even though I do not have a distinctive affinity for horses. I knew I was amongst a people that cared.
The Kerry Way Ultra is a mad thing. I have said this before and I stick to it. It's a 120 miles of madness, and a solid 60 miles of madness beyond my own affliction. However in 2016 they introduced the Ultralite which at a meagre 55 kilometers was an instant "yes" for me.
The day before my run I was at the briefing and the start of the big 120 mile event which left Killarney at 6am on a Friday morning at an unremarkable location on a main road exiting the town. The group of about 50 ultra-ultra runners left in good spirit and weather, with the first rays of sunshine awaiting 20 minutes ahead. I walked back to my hotel and started eating peanut butter sandwiches. I had a day to pack in the carbs and fats that I thought might help me on my "short" run and 6am was a fine time to start the grazing.
The day before my run I was at the briefing and the start of the big 120 mile event which left Killarney at 6am on a Friday morning at an unremarkable location on a main road exiting the town. The group of about 50 ultra-ultra runners left in good spirit and weather, with the first rays of sunshine awaiting 20 minutes ahead. I walked back to my hotel and started eating peanut butter sandwiches. I had a day to pack in the carbs and fats that I thought might help me on my "short" run and 6am was a fine time to start the grazing.
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| Beautiful people at the start of the 120 mile Kerry Way Ultra |
Before arriving in Killarney I had liaised with a few locals in an attempt to get an idea of the terrain and the footwear that it would tolerate. In all honesty, having now run the route I can safely say that the locals were either taking the "piss out of me" or they are of a significantly sturdier strain of homo erectus. (Could it be the Vikings that settled in Ireland over a 1000 years ago?). Put simply the Kerry Way Ultralite was, for me, tough going and damaging to my feet. It was far from what I had expected . But it is still one of the finer runs I have done.
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| 55km Kerry Way Ultralite runners at their start - with rain |
Awakening on Saturday morning, a few hours before the start in Sneem, I peered through the hotel window into the early morning darkness. Then I heard the rain. Damn, it was raining. And when I looked downwards at the wet gardens and contemplated how soundly I had slept, it dawned on me that it had probably been raining all night. In an instant I knew my preferred sandals would not be good for the run. I simply could not afford the risk especially in unknown territory. The Newtons would have to do it and that was that.
The night of deep sleep, before the start, was a signal of the issues we faced. More specifically it was the rain during the night which continued well into the run. Leaving the hamlet of Sneem which is where the 55km run starts we pranced down a stony twin track which was actually two small streams running side by side abutted with treacherously muddy mud. Running in the streamlet was manageable but occasionally I ventured sideways to step on what looked like a drier piece of turf only to sink ankle deep in mud with the accompaniment of audible profanity. Thloooschp ... I pulled my foot upwards, escaping the scatalogical mud but.... but leaving my loosely laced shoe haplessly trapped in the boorish clay coelenterate. This will end soon I thought optimistically at 500 meters into the ultra. And so it did at around 35 kilometers and then only for a while. As they say: death is the only cure for stupidity.
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| How deep is it? |
Mud of the order that Ireland presented on the day I ran the Kerry Way Ultralite was of diabolical proportions. The were vast landscapes of mud. Entire hills of mud, often mixed with eons of cow and sheep faeces. The redolent odour from my shoes, since thoroughly washed twice, confirms this assessment. And there were styles. At first playful little obstacles mildly challenging in the wet but after 20 or 30 of them I had visions of slipping and (in South African colloquialism), "blikseming off and moering" my head into the mud ... or a rock. At times there were wooden planks, coated with wire, placed over the perpetually muddy sections to offer light relief. At times there were also insidious and perfidious deep bogs. These were life-sapping death pits from which the paleontologists regularly extract cured remains of early Gaelic people. I know of runners that sank chest deep into some of these soupy carcass-craving bogs.
The Kerry Way runs follow the Kerry Way walking route which is a mix of mountain path, track and some roads through local villages. This kind of mixed terrain produces very interesting and engaging running especially for the likes of me who is known to miss key signposts. I knew the start of my run was in a small village called Sneem and I knew we would also run through other small locations with quaint names such as Templenoe and Kenmare. Knowledge is a powerful tool and in preparation I had looked at the route profile at least once. There was only one thing I remembered - the climbs start at about 35 kilometers. Thus in perfect synchronicity at 35 kilometers coming over a small rise into Kenmare my right hamstring capriciously cramped reducing my jog to an instant hobble. I passed two men who immediately pulled a fresh unopened bottle of water from a bag and insisted that I drink as much as I needed. What generous people? Gladly I accepted realising that I had not been drinking enough. My legs eased and I started moving. At the checkpoint I removed my shoes to pour out a collection of Irish rocks, stones, sticks, gravel and the odd boulder that I had gathered and carried since the start at Sneem. I saw the chafed, raw and bleeding holes in my feet and the helpers were very quick to offer plasters and other remedial wrapping. I declined. The damage was done. I really didn't care. I was happy.
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| One of a few mud-and-gravel-abraded "holes" in my feet. My shoes were hopelessly too loose and I didn't bother to retie the laces |
The rain persisted and running from Kenmare to Killarney the route takes a long and steady climb over a series of hills taking one into the heart of Kerry countryside. What a splendour. The cloud colours, fast and black, grey and white, descending and rising. The wind, cold and vocal. The green, orange, purple heaving terrain. The abundant rivers, black water and fervent froth breaking banks, flowing forcefully. I was deliriously lost in the remoteness .... deliriously also missing the vital turn-off and gleefully running an unnecessary mile to a small road where cyclists pointed out that I was not where I should be. "Go back" they said "and look for a little path that goes off to the left". Fine people the Irish.
There were so many really good encounters on the run. The people were really exceptional. Everybody. The last 5 kilometers to the finish in Killarney is through the Killarney National Park which includes Muckross Lake and Lough Leane, an even bigger lake. What better time to run through this expanse than on a Saturday afternoon with all the other visitors - a revivifying treat capping a wonderful day.
Pictures include those provided by the organiser and are of both the 120 mile and 55km overlapping event.
Some details: Entry to the Kerry Way is limited. I think about 50 entered both the 120 mile Ultra and the 55km Ultralite. More than half of the 120 mile Ultra starters did not finish. While many do not normally finish the rain and thick mist were additional issues in 2016. I think all starters of the 55km run finished but about 10 failed to show up at the start - did the weather put them off?
