Veronica Murray from Boston had stationed herself outside Kilmainham Jail, the 21mile mark in the Dublin City Marathon. This was where competitors would hit the wall (the psychological wall rather than the jail one, although it was a close thing in some cases) and Veronica was on hand to help them through the crisis.
Officially, she was there to cheer the hundreds of US competitors running for charity ("Looking good, leukaemia team!").
But Americans have 85 per cent of the world's known reserves of enthusiasm, and Veronica had more than most, so she cheered everybody else, too. It was "Way to go!" to those still running; "Nice and steady", to those reduced to walking; and "Looking good, looking good!" to all in between.
They weren't looking good at 2 p.m. yesterday, but needed the encouragement. This was the back of the field, a point reinforced by the clock on a passing race-car. "Looking good!" said Veronica to yet another straggler. "Four hours and thirty minutes", said the clock, sarcastically.
Of course, some competitors made it hard for themselves. James Nairne and Berry White from London competed in 32 lb rhinoceros costumes. The pair were publicising the threat to world rhino numbers, and their lumbering approach silenced Veronica, but only momentarily. "You're wild, Berry!" she said, after reading his name-tag.
Five very long miles from Kilmainham, the race prizes had long been decided. But not everybody was basking in the afterglow at the finish. In the first-aid section, Michael Carr from North Carolina sat wrapped in a blanket beside his broken wheelchair. His race had been dogged first by a slow puncture ("I had to stop every couple of miles to get it pumped") and then a collision with a runner at the 14-mile mark, which wrecked his right wheel.
He had to accept a lift in an ambulance to the finish.
A happier man was Chris Moon, the former British soldier who lost a leg and hand while clearing landmines two years ago. In his 11th marathon since the accident, he achieved his aim by finishing three minutes inside the five-hour barrier, but was less satisfied with the money raised for a Concern landmine-clearance project in Angola. "Not enough", he said, inviting more pledges to 1850-410-510.
The official alternative to the marathon was the "Minithon". No sooner had the big race cleared the city-centre starting point than O'Connell street was alive with the patter of tiny feet, as some 1,000 children took part in a twomile fun run.
Not that they weren't taking it seriously. Many of the competitors finished at three-minute-mile pace, which made you wonder how it had taken them 28 minutes to complete the course. Deborah McDonagh from Cabinteely (27 minutes) insisted she'd run all the way, but cracked under crossquestioning and admitted she had stopped for "a little rest".
"But I didn't sit down," she added, with pride. Everyone was a hero yesterday.
Sports report: page 18
