Ringing the bell for the last lap

After 1,300 miles, the end of my run around Ireland is in sight

An unexpected view around the corner. Waterfoot, Northern Ireland.

I’m in Belfast and the finishing line is in sight. After nine weeks of running, I have five more days left and then my run around Ireland will be over. 

Mid-way through each day, when I hit my usual difficult patch, I dream of it being over, of no longer having to run all day, every day, pushing myself up yet more hills, along more roads with the cars hissing past. 

But then sometimes I think about how much I’ll miss it, this simple daily ritual of packing up my bag, pulling on my running shoes, starting out at a walk and then after a few minutes tipping gently into a slow run. The adventure of never knowing what is around the next corner, the pleasure of stumbling upon an unexpectedly beautiful landscape, a glistening beach, or a small, colourful village with a bustling coffee shop.

Sometimes of course, it’s just another long, straight road around the corner, and then another, but even those now come filed with the possibility of pushing on, of eating up some more miles, of getting into a meditative zone where I start to feel the rhythm of my running, where I can lock in to it.