Did you ever do a duathlon? A starter of a 2K run, followed by a main course of a 10K cycle and completed by a 2K run for dessert. That was my menu today for the first time ever. Inspired by Artur Nowak, the starter 2K went well from Kilmoyley church to the home of the county hurling champions and back. The transition to the bike, however caused problems with cold fingers trying to fasten the helmet and wobbly feet having difficulty finding the pedals. But a good feeling then as cycling is basically running while sitting down! Until I hit the first hill and changed gears in the wrong direction. Quads complaining that this Sunday morning was going down! Andreas had kindly pumped up my tyres beforehand and the bike was trying to take off every time it hit a bump. An airy feeling. Mistook the speed of the bike then on a left-hand bend at Lerrig sportsfield and nearly heard the birds singing “Going Home”. The biggest shock was when I hopped off the bike and tried to run the dessert 2K. No tiramisu here as the two legs buckled like John Wayne coming off a horse after a long day’s ride on the range. Mixture of jelly and sponge as I wobbled to Kilmoyley NS and back. Felt like an old man. Come to think of it, I am an old man.
Forgot to tell my Garmin that I was doing a cycle and left it on running mode. When I press stop at the end there is cheering from the watch and a gold cup comes up on the screen. It thinks that I have broken the world record for the 14K run. How does one apologise to a watch!
“Never again” I hear myself saying but there is something different about this duathlon craic. Maybe just one more time. It’s not every day we make history.
It’s put down as a Christmas experience.
I recall another seasonal experience some forty plus year ago. On a Christmas Eve, it was on a Sunday, the then newly-formed Corca Dhuibhne AC in Dingle organised their first ever road race, a six and a half mile odyssey into ancient Irelandic territory. I had never run on a Christmas eve and of course that was the attraction. A raw Chrismassy day and that curious winter light that Dingle seems to monopolise meant a Celtic aura on the enchanted West Kerry ways. Wasn’t it a Dingle woman who inspired Patrick Kavanagh to write the enchanting Raglan Road that has the line “the enchanted way”. A strong field with future Olympian Peter Maher of Sneem strutting his stuff and the local hero Jonathan Flannery leading out the race in fine form. Around the four mile mark I knew that it wasn’t going to happen for me that day although I seemed to be much younger than I am now. The two iconic Carmody brothers from St John’s AC were running in the race. Brian was up front motoring with his Rolls Royce engine and Paul was passing me out as I mumbled something like “this is tough!” He looked at me and I can remember the words he spoke all those years ago: “Kissane, you have to be tough with it!” That’s a statement that requires no verbal response and then he added: “And Santy is coming tonight!”
John Griffin of St John’s AC won the race. What exciting years he had behind and ahead. He won the battle that day with Peter Maher who was later to run for Canada in the Olympic marathon. Gerard Walsh of Ríocht AC, one of the visionaries who gave Kerry its first tartan track, was third with Brian Carmody and John Lenihan close behind. Máiréad Cotter won the junior women’s event to kickstart a sound career in athletics. I came in eight, just ahead of Paul Carmody who had inspired me to keep going. Santy came early that year, Paul. Pat Griffin coordinated that event for the Kerry county board. A rare Christmas experience as I have never run a Christmas Eve race since, but it ranks with Yuletide subcultures like Indiana Jones, Billy Smart’s Circus, Ben Hur, The Snowman, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and Selection Boxes.
“That time of year you may in me behold” was how Shakespeare’s Sonnet 73 described the fading period of life he was experiencing. The end of his life was like the twilight of a fading day. Such is Christmastime. All cultures have a time of celebrating the turning of the darkest time of the year towards new seasons, new life.
One of the attachments to the Christmas was the Feast Day of St Stephen and was regarded in many countries as the second most important feast day of season. The day celebrated St Stephen who is believed to have been the first Christian martyr. According to tradition he met a gruelling death by stoning around the year 33 AD. What is now celebrated on December 26th has been a public holiday in Ireland since 1871 when the Bank Holiday Act recognised the importance of a tradition that had been popular for hundreds of years.
The connection of the day with the humble wren is well known in Ireland as legend has it that the wren “informed” on the luckless St Stephen while he was on the run. The result of this superstition caused the deaths of thousands of wrens over the years as they were hunted in revenge to be displayed on St Stephen’s Day by groups collecting money. “Going out in the wren” is a custom still observed in places but more understanding times don’t require an innocent bird to be hunted for the occasion.
For those of us who grew up in the 1960s the “Wren’s Day” was almost equal to Christmas Day. Going out in the wren or having troops of wrenboys (rarely girls) come knocking on the door was a special experience. Sometimes the adventure began on Christmas Day when out-of-the-way places could be visited by wrenboys to ensure the maximum amount of ground could be covered on St Stephen’s Day itself. In the 1960s the younger groups cycled or walked to the houses. I was part of a group one year which began the musical rounds at dawn and toured for ten hours. We collected quite a “ball of jack” as coins could be called at the time. I was on guitar and mouth organ, the “real Muirseen Durkan”. There were no rehearsals done and no tunes learned. We composed as we played like old Nero in burning Rome. But we made big money because people paid money to stop us playing! Big milage covered too on our bikes.
Later on in our budding lives, dances were organised at Hegarty’s Hall in Lisselton on Christmas Night which may have impacted on our failure to arise the next day to go out in the wren. The country is going to hell, the old people were saying. Dances on Christmas Night!
Then the Fr Dan Browne road race began in 1961 and was to become popular as a St Stephen’s Day event. For runners the ancient feast day took on a new identity as the event became synonymous with December 26th. The man after whom the race is named was born in the townland of Molahiffe, Firies in 1936. He attended national school in Farranfore and then proceeded to second level at St Brendan’s, Killarney. He was a useful sprinter in his youth. Then to Maynooth to study for the priesthood and was ordained in 1960. He was appointed to Cwmbran Mon parish in South Wales. A year after being ordained, he was killed in a car crash while returning from a visit to his friend Fr Gearóid Ó Donnchadha. That year, 1961 the road race began and the local curate, Fr O’Leary donated an old parish football league cup to the athletic club for the occasion in honour of Fr Dan. The man whom Fr Dan was visiting on the fateful day in 1961, Fr Ó Donnchadha died in a house fire in Fenit in 2015 and his family donated a cup for the ladies’ race in 2016. A Christmas races with identity indeed.
St Brendan’s AC has been one of the many clubs to accumulate a folklore around the Fr Dan Browne event over the years. Dan Murphy won the event on four occasions from 1967 to 1970, running then for St John’s AC (before Ardfert AC was formed) he led home a strong field ahead of John Spillane and Pat Cronin, both of Ovens, Cork with N O’Sullivan, Farranfore AC, Pat Maguire of Ardfert, running for St John’s and Donal Crowley, St John’s. Dan was to proceed to Washington State University later to where he would finish fourth to the legendary Steve Prefontaine in the NCAA cross-country championships. Dan’s brother Hugh won the U17 two mile event.
President of St Brendan’s AC Patrick O’Riordan has an old acquaintance with the Fr Dan Browne event. His first time running in Farranfore was in 1968 when he was U16. He finished in 2nd place to future Olympian Jerry Kiernan. He ran every year from 1968-1977 and then took part as often as possible, getting silver in the O50 race in 1999. The event ranks highly in his memory but he always found the going tough from the railway gates to Crowley’s shop which was the finish line for years.
One of St Brendan’s AC’s former stars who achieved something unique in the St Stephen’s Day race is Freda Davoren. While competing for UCC, Freda won the race outright in 2003. A feat unlikely to be bettered soon. Niamh Kissane of St Brendan’s AC won the junior event in Farranfore in 1994 a few weeks after winning the All Ireland U18 cross country title while Anne Maria Costelloe was a regular forefronter in the race.
In more recent years, St Brendan’s AC has been represented by numerous athletes on Fr Dan Browne day. In 2019 Andreas Weiss ran a pb for the 5K distance with 23:27 in his first appearance in the event. Peter Jackson ran through cold rain to get to the end a few years ago and ran past the finish line to get an early cup of tea in the clubrooms. He was amazed at the reception he got as he was mistakenly hailed as the winner. He tried to explain that he had finished back the field but no one believed him until the official results were announced! For David and Irene Butler, the 2014 event carries special memories. They had learned 3 days earlier that they would be moving to Kerry to live and decided to celebrate their news by running on St Stephen’s Day. Irene used some colourful language when the notorious hills revealed their full force. And then the couple, with over two kilometres to go, met the top finishers running out against them on their cool down, they had a full introduction to athletics in Kerry! Pat Sheehy always enjoyed the run, especially the older course out to Firies church and back and recalls that Dublin footballer Cian O’Sullivan was a regular participant…his parents come from nearby. Willie O’Riordan came from Cork to run the race in the 1970s and would celebrate afterwards in Joe O’Sullivan’s in Ardfert. Artur and Kirstie Nowak and family ran in the event a number of years, including a very wet 2018 and the Horgan family have graced the race also. Other St Brendan’s AC athletes remember eating a feed of yesterday’s fried turkey too soon before the race and experiencing Vesuvian eruptions on the first hill while others praise the primal and midwinterish emotions connected with its staging. A people’s event indeed, especially as a runner can be out-attituded by its challenges in the gloom-room of winter. An expressive race, full of vigour, an event forged in the past but suitable for all times. A statement of intent for the new year at the end of the old year.
A perennial icon of the Fr Dan Browne event was Jack Crowley, standing outside the shop as the runners rolled home. He once told me a story about the day he broke his bicycle chain in a race in Kilgarvan and his cousin from Headford had to pull him all the way back home on his bike. On the way back, the cousin stopped suddenly at a crossroads and Jack crashed into him and dislocated his thumb. The thumb couldn’t be put back in until Jack fell off his bike accidentally in a race in Causeway a few weeks later. When he picked himself up, he found the thumb was back in its sockets again!
When you visit Farranfore on St Stephen’s Day, you are enriched in many ways. Memories of Maureen Harrington, Jerry Kiernan (winner in 1970, 1971 and 1976), Neil Cusack, Laura Crowe, Freda Davoren, John Griffin (winner in 1979, 1980 and 1981), Niamh O’Sullivan, Gillian O’Sullivan (European silver medallist and Olympian, won the walk in 1999), Tom Shanahan, Kieran Lambe, John Lenihan, Des O’Connor (the Rod Stewart of Tipperary), Dan Murphy (1967-1970), Ted Sullivan (he won the race three times in 1963, 1964 and 1965), Michael Herlihy, Finny Long (international steeplechaser), Liam O’Brien (also an international steeplechaser), Jimmy Sullivan and the very first winner, Tom McCarthy in 1961, to mention just a few. What a Christmas list! And John Herlihy of Ríocht AC was third in 1999 after nearly being hit by lightening the previous day. Folklore stuff.
In old times travelling traders used to sell a yoke called a “God in the Bottle” around Christmas. Like a ship in a bottle except the bottle contained a little cross, a ladder, nails and pieces of cloth from the origins of Christianity. Now we can have a race in a bottle, a virtual race to remind us of the real thing and our dedication to it. And it’s good to hear that the race continues this St Stephen’s Day as a virtual event. Let the event come to you and close your eyes after your warm-up and let visualisation take you to Farranfore village, up the hill with 500 other runners, pass out runners, be passed out by other runners, run a relentlessly honest race, write a poem with your steps, see the low sun through the Farranfore blackthorns, breathe the pure solstice air into your lungs, turn around Jim O’Shea at the half-way mark and head back down the hill as if there is no tomorrow. Sprint and cross the line and feel good. Spiritual. Redeemed. Think of Jack Crowley waiting with a smile and a word of encouragement at the shop and then go for a cup of sweet tea in the hall like Peter Jackson did. A winter’s tale on a canvas somewhere between Van Gogh and Vermeer. A work of the old masters. Be tough with it.
’Tis the season to be running…
