Mayo sporty break proves a real winner

GO IRELAND:Sport-averse ROSEMARY MAC CABEis keen on competing in a triathlon after a weekend's training in Westport

‘PUT IT on the granny ring,” says Adam Kelly, personal trainer and triathlon coach with Zest personal fitness, circling his fancy bike around my rental.

“The . . . granny ring?” I ask, pedalling furiously up what feels like a 76-degree incline.

“The lightest one, you can do it,” he says, circling again. I lower the gears to “the granny ring”. I pedal furiously. The bike moves, slowly, uphill.

Out of the corner of my eye I spy a man pushing a young child in a wheelbarrow. He is gaining on me. Quickly. Cue more furious pedalling but to no avail so, in the interests of being able to walk and hold my head high in polite company, I disembark.

Not for the first time, I wonder how it is that I am to be found at the base of Croagh Patrick cycling rings around the mountain’s lower reaches. The triathlon training weekend is a new venture at Knockranny House Hotel in Westport, Co Mayo and, for some unfathomable reason, I signed up for it. Voluntarily.

There was no one as surprised by this shock turn of events as me; I am one of the least sporty people you’ll meet. At school, I was the last chosen for teams; in college, I was the last to volunteer for activities. Rounders in the park? I’ll mind the picnic basket. Swimming at the Forty Foot? Not on your life. All this is to say that I am no athlete, so in the weeks before my sojourn in Knockranny, I tried to make thrice-weekly gym visits just so I would not be left behind.

As it happened, my fears were somewhat unfounded. Though the weekend was no walk in the park, it was not the terrifying reality TV-style boot camp of my nightmares, and instead proved to be, well, kind of awesome.

It began on the Friday evening when we arrived in Westport, tired and slightly crabby: “Why didn’t you just take the Galway road? Google maps said it was quicker”, followed by “Would you like to drive?”, and had a snack before getting an early night.

Bright and early on Saturday morning it was down to the pool at 8am for swim techniques. When we arrived we were introduced to the rest of the group: a couple from Ballina who were quite sporty (he, a three-time triathlete; she, a runner) and a friend duo from Kilkenny who had very little experience but wanted to get a taste. It was the perfect balance between effort and enthusiasm.

Kelly was meticulous in his instruction and the session was really helpful. The last time my swim technique had been appraised was in school, when coaches were mostly focused on my staying afloat. The most shocking aspect was that, when I’d finished my first two lengths, Kelly said: “That was really good.” It was the first time my sporting ability had been praised since I could remember. Things were off to an encouraging start.

There followed a lot of tweaking – “focus on slowing down your legs” – and some float work until we went on to breakfast in La Fougere restaurant. Point to note: ordering – and drinking – a pot of coffee right before a 20km cycle with few bathroom options would be most unwise.

After breakfast we trouped down to the bicycle shelter where we set up our rental bikes and headed off through Westport with Kelly and his fiancée and fellow triathlete, Jane Evans, to the beach. Events took a disastrous turn roughly 1km in when we approached a hill. I was sure Kelly had said it would be a “fairly flat” cycle. Didn’t he say that? I had trailed too far behind to ask anyone. I’ve never been fond of a hill and have been known to hop off and whip out my mobile in order to feign a call rather than suffer the judgement of other road users. This time, however, there was nothing for it than to lower gear and plough on. I determined not to believe another word out of Kelly’s mouth.

Kelly and Evans instructed us on best road use when cycling in groups: how to react to traffic and how best to ensure our safety. It was neither a slow nor a fast cycle, keeping a steadily brisk pace out the coast road to Beltra beach for the third aspect of a triathlon: the run.

The sun was still shining when we reached the beach, locked up our bikes and launched into our 3km run. Running directly after cycling is, according to Kelly, often one of the most difficult aspects of triathlon training. The dunes, however, provided a soft and distracting trail as it was necessary to keep an eye both on direction and on where one’s foot was landing. At one stage we ran across stones, which defeated me almost instantly so I walked. After the run it was back on the bikes to the Sheebeen on Quay Road for chowder, sandwiches and hot coffees in front of the open fire.

Although the pace remained brisk, conversation was flowing and Kelly and Evans chatted about their training regimes, how they got into triathlons, advice for technique, fitness – whatever we saw fit to ask. They also encouraged us to move in and out of formation, meaning we chatted to one another while we cycled. The cycle back to the hotel seemed slightly longer given the appearance of a long hill, up which we trundled in low gears and single file back into the town.

The last hurdle was the hill up to the hotel, one I was convinced I wouldn’t defeat. “It’s not so bad,” said Kelly. “Just get into a low gear and go for it – you’ll be well able for it.” His confidence in us was astounding, and not a little inspirational. I made it up the hill and, despite wanting nothing more than a power nap before dinner, we were into the gym for some stretching before a much appreciated trip to the sauna.

Day one down and things didn’t seem so bad – but the padded cycling shorts that had, a few short hours beforehand, seemed laughable were now a godsend. Dinner on Saturday was a seven-course extravaganza with such culinary delights as cider ice cream, curried mousse and beetroot relish. Despite big plans for cocktails in the bar, after two of the same – you cannot leave without tasting the Raspberry Dream – and our seven courses, we were ready to hit the hay.

SUNDAY MORNING offered a brief respite in the form of an extra hour in bed, then it was down to the pool for more swim techniques.

When we arrived, bleary eyed and less than bushy tailed, we realised, terrifyingly, that our sporty couple had returned home to nurse a sick child and the friend duo had absconded to the spa. We were alone with the triathletes.

Without breaking into groups, the lengths were non-stop and, while Saturday’s session had seemed fun and informative, Sunday’s was quite exhausting, and all before breakfast. Was this what triathlons were really about?

We concentrated on specific techniques, working on lengthening strokes and twisting our bodies to get the maximum speed and distance with minimum effort. I was surprised by how much longer my body felt with the slight adjustments Kelly suggested, and by how much further my stroke took me. At the end of the session, we had a quick race – but while Saturday’s was a relay, Sunday’s was one-on-one, and my companion used to swim competitively. I began to wish I’d brought another friend. You know, one who doesn’t like getting her hair wet.

Then Kelly – perhaps seeing the fear in my eyes – suggested I get a head start. A head start! How very school-age, but how fabulous! I won and, as a result, nobody sulked.

After breakfast we headed off for our scheduled hour-and-a-half cycle, set to have us back at the hotel for lunchtime. The four of us headed for Croagh Patrick and the winding hills of its lower reaches – which is how I found myself shifting into the “granny ring” and, within moments, off the bike and on to my feet.

Any good exercise addict will tell you exercise is addictive, and as I pushed my body – tired but not in pain – to take me up hills over and over again, listening to Kelly and Evans talking about their training regimes, triathlon clubs and their many activity holidays, I felt something approaching enthusiasm.

Instead of feeling I’d done enough exercise for a lifetime, as I suspected I might, back home in Dublin (the Galway road, incidentally, is in fact quicker) I found myself googling triathlons, half-marathons and fun runs; I set myself out a gym regime; I determined to eat better, to exercise more and to work towards a goal.

I started off as a novice, a less-than beginner, and ended up not only enjoying the weekend more than I’d imagined, but determined to take part in a triathlon in 2011. Watch this space.