So here we go again. For the next three days or so, Galway will be turned into a sort of mini-Olympic village where highly toned and tanned specimens of the human race will be brushing abs with each other, comparing their strokes and their gearsticks, holding spit-covered fingers to the wind to determine their chances of finishing or winning the Ironman series.
Last year when it came here first, it was the kind of day that you wouldn;t put the dog out. It was cold and wet and full of the type of conditions that Ironmen and Ironwomen fear the most. There were tales of pale, frozen athletes bailing out in the wilds of Connemara, the cold breeze on the cycles adding to the discomfort from the early morning torrid swim. However this time around the weather forecast is much better, for all that’s worth. So best wishes to them all, especially on that close your eyes moment when the guys hops onto the saddles in their Speedos.
So to all the competitors, let your sinewy legs find cushions on the hard concrete of our town, may your sturdy shoulders feel the welcome of the waves in our water as they drift you towards the shore, may our roads eat up the rotations of your cycles as your thighs pound at the pedals and propel you faster and faster, the western wind in your faces arcing around to gently push you towards your finishing line.
May the pounding of your heart as it pumps the pistons of your body act like a gentle staccato soundtrack in the movie of your feat. May the isotonic blood flow through your veins pushing your skin as your body stretches into its fullness and makes you feel invincible. May the thoughts of failure appear as if bubbles, popping and dissipating in your line of vision, as you drive yourself on. May the hard disk drives of your mind become sponges to absorb all that is around you. May you hear every word of encouragement from announcer Joanne Murphy sound as if it is for yourself alone, may every barking dog be a mentor, ruff-ruffing out a message of goodwill. May every cat on a wall appear like a cheetah daring you to go faster, faster.
May every face in the crowd be bearing a smile and a wink and a glad-eye. May every shallow puddle on the road be a cooling oasis to splash your ankles, may your hamstrings become lithe like an accordion in the hands of Sharon Shannon. May the sweat dripping off your brow be a sort of mead from the gods to power you on. May your families and supporters take great enjoyment and pride from your achievement and when it is all over and when the warm shower is washing away the sweat and effort of the day’s endurance, may you be happy and may you plan to come back again and do it all again next year. Welcome to Galway, Ironmen and Ironwomen.
