As readers may be aware, I’ve been running a lot lately – part of a mid-life-crisis-management programme. It’s going well, all things considered, with my race times gradually falling. And one measure of progress is that I now sometimes find myself competing against a better class of athlete, albeit of the junior variety.
It happened again at the weekend, in a place called Bohermeen. A few miles west of Navan, Bohermeen takes its name from the Irish for “smooth road”. This is a hint of its ancient origins, when it was on one of the five, high-quality roads radiating from Tara.
But these days it’s the name of a parish. And of an athletic club, which among other things hosts an annual 5k road race, the Patrick Bell Memorial, held on an evening in June. It’s a hugely popular event, the whole community seeming to participate, regardless of age.
So it was that, early in race on Saturday, I found myself running alongside one of the club’s most precocious talents: a kid half my size. It was a ding-dong battle. We were hip-to-shoulder for the first two kilometres. Then he got a bit of a lead on me. But like a canny fishermen, I let him go a bit, knowing I’d reel him in further on.
One of the advantages of age, after all, is that you learn how to pace yourself. Whereas the exuberance of youth is its own enemy. So I dug in, mid-race, as the searing heat of Meath in June started to take a toll.
I was certain the kid would crack, sooner or later. But as we approached the 4k mark, there was no sign of weakness from my diminutive rival. He was still skipping along like a baby cheetah. If either of us was under pressure, it was me.
Maybe he was bluffing, I thought. If I could just stay close, I might yet break his spirit. So, dredging all reserves of energy, I gradually narrowed the gap. And as we entered the home straight, I wound myself up for a big finish. Then, while I was still winding (it’s a slow process, because some of original cogs are missing), he accelerated effortlessly and beat me.
I briefly consoles myself that he must be older than he looked to run so maturely. Then, unfortunately, I asked. Whereupon, having humbled me on the road, he rubbed it in by informing me that he was “10”. I could only suck this up and shake his hand. “You’re a better man than I am,” I said.
In the immediate aftermath of this crushing defeat, my feelings of decrepitude were exacerbated by the unusual medals awarded to all participants. These were made of slate and, at first glance, I thought the inscription on the back was a reference to my age category. On closer inspection, it referred to the slate, which dated from the Cambrian period, 500 million years ago.
My juvenile rival must have been quarried from the same stuff. In any case, the experience has given me an insight into the thinking behind the Meath football team’s recent change of sponsors. I used to think it no coincidence that Meath’s glory years coincided with them having the name of a meat-processing company – Kepak – on the jerseys.
The intimidating implication, supported by the team’s performances, was that consumption of raw meat was part of their training programme. Whereas the latest sponsor – Tayto Park – seemed somehow less threatening. Until last weekend. Now I can see where Meath are going with their sponsorship by a local children’s theme park. I’m intimidated again.
Anyway, the post-race catering soon cheered me up. It extended well beyond the tea, cake, and sandwiches that are standard for these community-run races. In Bohermeen, along with slate medals, the event’s unique features included a free burger for everyone attending. The queue for that stand was nearly as long as the race.
Basking in the sunshine and the smell of frying beef, I noticed that Bohermeen is also investing in the future. The club’s modest facilities include a gravel track – only two lanes wide because the original site didn’t permit anything bigger. But in keeping with the parish’s ancient name, the gravel is soon to be replaced by a tartan surface.
The bad news is that this will cost €60,000. So the club is launching a sponsor-a-square scheme (see www.bohermeenathleticclub.com). If you want to be the honorary owner of a piece of smooth track in the place of the smooth road, it costs €50. The note doesn’t have to be smooth, apparently: a crumpled one is just as welcome.
fmcnally@irishtimes.com