Dublin marathon delivers bundles of bank holiday joy

It's very apt that the Dublin City Marathon should finish, as it does these days, outside the National Maternity Hospital. Both are synonymous with a certain amount of pain. But both also promise the delivery of little bundles of joy in the end: albeit, in the case of marathon participants, involving only goody bags, commemorative t-shirts, and the odd banana.

Babies aside, the main difference between giving birth and running 26.2 miles is that they still don’t offer epidurals for the latter. Despite which, there’s never any shortage of volunteers.

On the contrary, a record 15,300 people signed up for this year’s event. And although, sure enough, many of them endured horrors in the vicinity of Holles Street, and for several miles before it, there were very few afterwards who didn’t think it had all been worthwhile.

The field included two participants who, by the way, would not have looked out of place in a maternity hospital. They were Michael Doherty and Michael Canty, from Ballina, and both were wearing yellow Minions-themed onesies, like a pair of oversized newborn twins.

The excuse, in part, was that they’d each had an injury-hit preparation, making good race-times unlikely. Also, in the case of Doherty, his wife had recently given birth. In marathon logic, these two circumstances added up to fancy dress.

“We decided we’d just enjoy ourselves,” said one of the Michaels. “And we did,” said the other. The costumes were very popular along the route, especially with children. But asked if they’d be wearing something similar next year, they both looked pained. “They’re a bit warm,” complained Doherty.

Closing of an era

Of course, rather than the start of any new life, the 2015 marathon marked the closing of an era. After 36 consecutive years, the October bank holiday Monday was saying its farewell to the event. From next year, Bangles fans and others who wish it was Sunday will get their way.

In the meantime, the final manic Monday signed off with relatively benign weather: last year’s much-hated humidity replaced by cool, drizzly conditions. Only the strong southeasterly winds militated against those in search of personal bests. And besides, most participants didn’t have to face the winds head on.

One of the advantages of being in the main body of the field is that you tend to get shielded from the worst of any gales. This year, even the great Sonia O’Sullivan benefitted. Returning to the race as a fun-runner, 15 years after winning it, she enjoyed the support of a phalanx of male runners, who were all – in her words – “very good wind-breakers”.

She didn’t mean it like that (we hope). But in any case, her time of 3hr 3mins was “12 minutes ahead of schedule”. So whatever they were doing, it must have helped.

Like most participants, O’Sullivan praised the extraordinary support along the route, and well she might have. Normally, in marathons, it’s only the field that has an elite section. But among those spotted cheering on the runners this year was Kerry footballing great Colm “Gooch” Cooper, forsaking stardom for a rare supporting role.

Among other things, the 2015 event was also notable for featuring a joint North-South police operation, involving 140 officers of An Garda Síochána and the PSNI.

Nobody was arrested, however, because they were all off duty and taking part in the race. The other thing they had in common, poignantly, was black ribbons, worn in honour of Garda Tony Golden, who was shot in the line of work earlier this month.

Also in the record field were at least two men who had run all 36 bank holiday Monday marathons: a set they could now consider complete. In fact, Martin Kelly (3hr 28mins) believed himself to be the youngest to run all of them. And having started at 18, he looked to have an unanswerable case.

But there was competition even for this title, because Martin was followed over the line, soon afterwards, by Declan Benson, who also claimed to have run the full 36 and to have started when he was 16. Both will in any case hope to be lining up again next year, when the marathon starts a whole new chapter.