Då var jag igång med första Garmin träningspasset, inför Midnattsloppet i Malmö den 30 augusti.
Utförde inte träningspasset enligt förslaget som ville att jag skulle hålla ett tempo på 6:55/km i 30-minuter, utan satte fart för att se hur långt jag orkade i ett högre tempo.
Det blev 2km innan jag fick pusta ut lite. Första km på 05:33.
Efter denna runda, fick jag beskedet att jag nått 60% av den totala sträckan i utmaningen Giants Causeway.
On my way from Fair Head to the town of Ballycastle, I trudged across the tops of the cliffs, around the magnificent Torr Head, until I arrived at Glenshesk to visit its local Mass Rock. At first, this rock seems completely unremarkable, save for its large flat surface and the crucifix carved upon it, but it tells us something essential about the history of this part of the United Kingdom.
In the 18th Century, the island of Ireland, predominantly Catholic, was occupied by the British, who tended to follow the Protestant faith. The British passed a series of measures in Ireland known as the Penal Laws. These laws stipulated that no Catholic could vote, receive an education or worship the Catholic rites publicly.
This forced the Catholic Church on the island underground. However, despite the harsh punishments if they were caught, the faithful would flock to these rocks in the dead of night to receive communion, using their wide, flat surfaces as improvised altars. Like most Mass Rocks, this one at Glenshesk is in a wild, remote location, tucked away in a glen, allowing the worshippers to post lookouts on the hills, watching for any British patrols.
I sat for a minute and contemplated these brave acts of resistance, finding inspiration in the fact that, despite centuries of oppression aimed at destroying this island’s culture, the Irish always hung on, marshalling creativity and bravery to preserve themselves. With this thought, I continued on to Ballycastle.
Ballycastle is charming; rows of multi-coloured houses stand next to the marina, where white sailboats glide through the waters, taking tourists along the coast or fishermen to their nets.
I sat on the town’s golden beach and, hearing the soft flap of wings above, I looked up and saw a squadron of swans passing through the sky. This brought my thoughts to the tale of the Children of Lir, which is said to have taken place in Ballycastle.
Once there lived a chieftain named Lir. For many years, he was married to a woman named Aobh, with whom he had four children. For a while, the little family lived in happiness, until one day, through the cruel whims of Fate, Aobh was taken, dying whilst her children were still young.
Lir grieved deeply the loss of his love, but he found solace in his children, for in each of their angelic little faces, he saw a reflection of his departed wife. He loved them dearly, pouring his deep affection into their care and imparting all he knew about the world to them, teaching them the history of their land, the knowledge and lore of the forest, and the art of music and singing.
Some time later, Lir met a woman named Aoife, famous for her great beauty and her magical powers. They came together in a field, and, as was custom, a cord was fastened around their clasped hands, binding them together in matrimony.
Aoife too fell in love with Lir’s beautiful children, but realised that she would never equal them in her new husband’s affections. Jealousy began to cloud her mind, so she resolved to do away with them. She commanded the children to mount her carriage, and she took them far away, on a long journey to the lough she had chosen for an evil deed. When they arrived, she drew her magic wand and cast a spell, turning them into four white swans.
Over the days that followed, Aiofe was wracked with guilt. She returned to the lough and gathered the transformed children. Whilst she could not give them back their human form, she gave them back their voices, and all who passed the lough heard the angelic singing of the children of Lir.
I strained my ears to hear their song as the swans flew overhead and imagined a few notes of their melody. Satisfied, I picked up my bag and continued to the town of Bushmills.