A view from a Rathfarnham runner, taking part for the 7th time, running leg 7. Our team taking over 7 hours, with 7 teammates. I made a navigation error, losing nearly 7 minutes, just 7km from the handover.
“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood”, wrote Robert Frost. His famous poem The Road Not Taken sums up the dilemma for me and every mountain runner.
Life is about decisions, and so is racing on the mountains. You can calmly prepare at home, studying maps of the route. You can even do a recce of the route. But yes, there’s that magic unknown of racing on the day. The added pressure of being on a team, seven other runners and many others at home, or out on the route, keeping tabs on the dots on the tracker app. You’re just at GPS tracker dot, one step away from an unforgettable wrong turn.
Seventh time unlucky
For me two yellow men did diverge on a sign. Somewhere on country roads in south Wicklow near Ballycumber, a townland between Aughrim and Tinahely. Nice rolling hills, good farmland for dairy and sheep.
My seventh attempt at the Wicklow Way Relay, one of my favourite events of the year. I’m lucky to be on the Rathfarnham team, that has a proud record of competing every year, since it first started back in 2003. Extra lucky to have seven unique Wicklow granite trophies for top 3 podium finishes, which have pride of place on my fireplace.
Every team and every runner have a story. A collective tale with individual chapters, make up a day traversing the Wicklow hills. It’s also a longer journey. I stepped aside as captain, so a fresh approach was welcome from Ciarán and Paul at the reigns. Forming a team months before, entering on time to secure one of the 30+ team places. Then assembling a team, rejigging for injuries and unplanned absences. Wondering what the opposition will bring? East Cork and TT racers, the strong contenders over recent years, will be there.
Where to start?
How to tell an 8-hour story in a few words? Well, I was up early to drop Luke to start leg 2. Gaël arrived in from leg 1 in a tight top 3 battle. I end up driving multiple cars on the day, next getting Aoife through leg 3. Then experienced Greg on leg 4 keeps things tight, even though Cork are ahead in a commanding position. It’s a battle between TT and ourselves for 2nd.
There is a tight Venn diagram of runners between both teams. Many train together. We know our strengths and weaknesses. Terry (Mr TT) is all relaxed, taking photos galore. Through Glendalough, the race remains tight, Matt running superbly to Glenmalure. Leg 6 over Drumgoff is a great battle where Colm beats Ciarán over the brow of the steep hill. Déjà vu from last year.
Cork are off in the distance this year. Tim has the novel feeling of leading from the front. I head off from Ironbridge. The ever-present Mick Hanney, clipboard in hand, managing operations in this blackspot in the valley, a telephony free zone. An oasis of being present, no GPS tracker distractions.
Chasing Ronan, melting in the heat
Off I set, chasing Ronan from TT, already a few minutes up the road. We battled leg 5 from Glendalough last year and are evenly matched. I hope he tires over the longer 21km leg. The first half is a slog up a fire road. The stifling heat hits me on the road over to Moyne. Glad my teammates have a water bottle. At halfway I was melting.
Right turn
Then I have my Robert Frost moment, on a road I’ve passed probably 10 times, between racing, reccing and driving. Anyway, it’s the sound of water that triggers me to turn right after the steep downhill, where you turn right onto the Wicklow Way trail. I see a yellow man sign, but it has a mix of left- and right-hand arrows. So, I make a split-second decision to go right.
Turns out it’s the road less travelled. I get a funny feeling after 30 seconds, as the surface is harder and there are no bluebells in the ditch, which I remember from my recce only two weeks before. I persist up a hill for 3 minutes. Postponing the inevitable. The nail in the coffin: I see a house. There was no house on the WW 2 weeks ago. I turn back, hoping the bloody GPS dot has not moved to track my error, publicising it to the attentive audience on their phones.
Damn, I curse myself. I’ve let the team down. Probably losing 6 minutes. I feel bad for our last runner Harriette, as I’ve ruined any chance she had of a tight race with Laura from TT. Then I right myself and tell myself to keep pushing. You never know.
Back on track
I remind myself how lucky we all are. Mangan’s Wood is a native Irish oakwood. It’s a magical place to run through, the green leaves so vibrant. Happy again. Hopping 10 gates and stiles is like a steeplechase, then the finale of climbing 200 steps at the end is cruel.
I hand over to Harriette and sit on the grass. My race is over. But yes, I’m still happy. Later on, at the finish in Shillelagh is a bizarre sight. Runners converging, pints, food, chat in a sunny pub car park. Out on the road, trucks and tractors hurtle by, country life oblivious to what we’re all up to.
The next night the team meet up for a debrief and celebration. What a great bunch. Shared experiences are what friendship and memories are all about. Maybe I’ll take the other road next year…
IMRA page from Wicklow Way Relay for info, results, photos, reports.
The Road Not Taken
BY ROBERT FROST
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44272/the-road-not-taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
David Power Blog - Silence is the Question 
Great. Thanks.