Flora women's mini marathon

I did it! I walked the flora women's mini marathon in 2 hours and 14 minutes and if that doesn't sound like much of an achievement to anyone else, then please keep in mind that I cut the lawn the day before and had to lie down for half an hour afterwards. That is the level of my unfitness.

A group of my friends from the mother and toddler group had decided to so it and although I know that the true purpose of the day was to raise much needed funds for various charities, I have to admit that my first thought was 'Yes!!! - an entire day away from the kids and lots of adult company to boot'. I couldn't sign up fast enough.

I arrived at the bus with my friend and neighbour Isabel bright eyed eyed and bushy tailed and it was then that we learnt that there was only the two of us and one other girl from our immediate circle of friends who had actually shown up on the day to do it (excuses ranged from illness, to lack of babysitter to "Well, it sounded like fun at the time but...did you know that you have to actually do it?"). Luckily spirits were high and the atmosphere good and then to my utter joy and delight, my friend Marion who I have done a few plays with walked onto the bus so I knew there and then that the day was going to be fun.

We were taking the Kilkenny, Carlow route to Dublin as opposed to the Portlaoise route which was an extra 30 or 40 minutes of a journey but we were assured that this was a worthwhile diversion as there apparently was a gorgeous restaurant on this route that was willing to give us a special deal on an all day breakfast on the way up and an evening meal on the way home. As someone who always likes to put their stomach first, I had no objection to this and neither it seemed did anyone else.

I was sitting beside Isabel and as anyone who knows me knows that I have the ability to out talk a politician trying to explain away his expenses, I have nothing but love and admiration for her who at no stage indicated a wish for me to shut up and leave her in peace. In fact we got on brilliantly and as we were planning on only walking the marathon, this was a God send as I knew that we would be spending a lot more time together (I know Isabel years but there is a big difference between having a coffee with each other a few times a week and spending an entire day together with no escape) .

We got to this famous restaurant that was putting so much extra time on to our journey and I have to be honest and say that the breakfast was only mediocre. My friend Marion asked for a vegetarian breakfast and I have never regretted putting a bit of sausage in my mouth so much. She got a plate of food that looked like it had almost an entire carton of mushrooms on it, a tin of beans, two tomatoes, about four scrambled eggs and I would say no less than three large potatoes all cut up and fried. I chewed my rashers resentfully wishing to God that I'd had the foresight to say that I was a vegetarian. The chef in this restaurant was obviously worried about Marian's protein intake and decided to make up for it in quantity.

We arrived in Dublin at one o'clock and made our way to the starting line where there was nothing to do but sit on the road and wait for the race to start at three. It started to drizzle rain but that wasn't enough to dampen our spirits. There was a big screen where people could see their happy smiling faces if they were lucky enough to be caught by nearby camera. I spent almost an hour contorting myself into a variety of poses as nothing would have given me greater pleasure than to see my face on a giant screen (I don't know why - overdeveloped ego perhaps; the psychological need for proof of my own existence?) but unfortunately the camera man saw nothing either appealing or interesting in me and the camera stayed firmly pointed in the other direction.

Ruth Scott from 2FM was present and tried to keep the spirits up of a crowd of women that were getting visibly damper by the minute. She didn't have to try so hard.

People were dancing to the music, songs were being sang and the Mexican wave was travelling back and forth throughout the forty or so thousand people that were present and I finally understand the phrase 'there was a real buzz in the air'. At one stage a group of people were singing 'Molly Malone' and a strange woman in her seventies grabbed my hand and swayed while singing the song directly to me with what looked like tears of happiness in her eyes. At any other time this would have been deemed by me as a serious invasion of my personal space but not today. The atmosphere really did seemed charged with an electric current and the waiting time of two hours passed by in a blur. Before I knew it we were off.

Part of the group that we had travelled up with were running but a few others were walking like us. I got to know one woman who was walking the ten kilometres even though she was five months pregnant. I really cannot applaud her enough. When I was five months pregnant with Andrew I remember taking a walk down the road and having to ring my hubby to come and collect me as I could not physically walk back up the hill (thank God for mobile phones. How did we cope ten years ago?). In all fairness though, I was the size of a house as people kept saying things to me like "You must be due any day now are you" and I would have to mutter shamefully "em no, I have another 18 weeks left". When I was six months pregnant I remember the mid wife saying to me that I had the biggest bump that she had every seen at six months (How can that be? I still have trouble accepting that).

There was no such shame for my new friend Miriam whose husband Michael was also doing the woman's marathon dressed in a pink wig and a pink skirt. Both of them looked amazing and Miriam in particular, had the energy of a toddler.

The first kilometre mark seemed upon us in no time and I wasn't even tired. Then the second, then the third and then out of nowhere Isabel suddenly pointed out to me that we wouldn't be getting fed again until about half eight that night. My heart froze in terror. Half eight? it was only half three at that stage and I hadn't eaten since half eleven. I know that it's not exactly third world starvation but I really don't like to be hungry. In fact, I often do pre-emptive eating where I snack all day long to ward off any hunger pangs that might be lurking in the whole tummy vicinity.

Isabel was hungry too. We walked along the streets of Dublin no longer taking in the sights, sounds and atmosphere but both lost in the fear of going a few hours without eating when there it was in front of us at the eight kilometre mark like an oasis shining in the desert. It was an Abracabra fast food takeaway. We needed no words. We nodded our agreement and within seconds we were inside where I ordered a chip butty smothered in mayonnaise and Isabel ordered a garlic chip with cheese. We were the only two people in there at first but after we used the loo I noticed that lots of women were stopping off and also using the toilet facilities. Typical women, I thought smiling, we can't resist our carbs. It took a few minutes before I realised that no-one else seemed to be ordering chips. I spoke to the rather grumpy waitress and said "I suppose you're doing a roaring trade today with all the women walking past" and she answered crossly, "No, you and your friend are the only two people who have actually ordered food. Everyone else has just used the bathroom".

There it was. Shameful, mortifying proof that I am the greediest woman in Ireland.

There were forty thousand women in that marathon and no-one else had felt the need to stop off for a meal half way through it. I can't even share the awful title of gluttonous pig with Isabel as you only have to take one look at her fabulous size 8/10 figure to know that she doesn't partake in any pre-emptive eating. When she had her three children she was back in her skinny jeans by the time that they were all six weeks old and everyone knows that if you are anyway greedy at all, you suspend all of your proper eating habits during pregnancy and gorge for all you are worth. It is the only time in your life where you can get as fat as you like and it doesn't matter (well it doesn't matter in the appearance department that is - your health of course is another kettle of fish altogether).

We eventually crossed the finish line and despite the fact that I was still coming to terms with my insatiable appetite, I felt such a feeling of pride and achievement. I was tired and my legs were a little bit jelly like but we did it. We had even run the last ten yards just for that extra feeling of self accomplishment.

We got our medals (everyone is a winner) but I was so disappointed to see that none of the men who had dressed as women to run the marathon and raised money for their chosen charities were allowed to receive one. How miserly! How parsimonious! How mean! I know that it was a women's marathon but these men had not run as men. They had entered into the spiritof things and dressed up in skirts and wigs and had provided tons of entertainment and added so much to the experience. For shame that they could not receive a medal. This was one of the really low points of the day in my opinion.

Although we finished tired and soaked with my feet squelching in my shoes we were still in high spirits. The second low point of the day manifested itself when it turned out that our bus was parked over two kilometres from the finishing line so there was more walking to be done with no medal this time. I plodded back to the bus feeling my exhilaration rapidly evaporating and when I got there and opened my bag, I then discovered that I had not brought a change of shoes so I was doomed to sit in wet socks all the way home.

Thankfully all of other people from our group who had run the race appeared and soon we were all laughing and talking and swapping our stories from the day. I have to give Brenda a special mention here for running the race in 56 minutes. What a girl! My wet feet were forgotten and I settled into the journey home.

We stopped at the same restaurant where we had had our breakfast and while the food was again okay, I found that I was still a bit full from my earlier butty so could not manage to eat all of my dinner. Hurray! I'm not so greedy after all. Although I did manage to eat a slice of banoffee pie for my dessert but everyone knows that you have two stomachs, a food stomach and a dessert stomach. The point here is that I stopped feeding my food stomach when it was full so it is progress and I am giving myself credit for it.

I was a little tired after the event which is why I am only writing this blog now as contrary to popular belief, I don't lock my children in a room where I leave them while I indulge in my ranting and raving here in my blog. I normally step on to my literary soapbox late at night or early in the morning but have been unable to drag myself out of bed at an early hour to do that until today.

I have to say here that overall it was such a fun day and I enjoyed every minute of it. Special thanks to my friend Isabel who was brilliant company and knows how to enjoy a plate of chips in style like a proper woman. Here's to next year....