An Irishman's Diary

EXCUSE THE uneven typing, readers. I’m writing today’s column while also having to wrestle with my conscience. Which is strongly of the opinion that at least one of us, but preferably both, should take part in a charity running event in Dublin’s Phoenix Park tomorrow.

In fact, as it points out primly, we don’t even have to run. Most people will be walking, I’m told. But the route is only five kilometres. And since, as my conscience reminds me, I’m supposed to be a runner, albeit one who hasn’t done a race for months, this might be the perfect chance to blow away the cobwebs. The event is all about fun, apparently, so even runners won’t be clocked.

Which is all very well. As I remind my conscience, however, there remains the issue of the walk/run’s unusual starting time. Indeed, when I say it takes place “tomorrow”, I might equally say “tonight”. Either way, it’s at 4am. Hence the event’s title: “Darkness Into Light”.

It’s not just in the Phoenix Park, either. Similar spectacles will unfold at 14 different locations around Ireland, from Cavan to Cork and from Waterford to Westport. And all will start at 4am, a time that was not chosen for its mere novelty value.

On the contrary, as well as being a description of the event’s chronological ambience, Darkness Into Light is a metaphor. The money raised goes to Pieta House, a non-profit organisation set up to help people with suicidal tendencies. So, as my conscience rightly points out, it’s for a good cause.

But what, I ask, about the logistics of running at 4am? It’s one thing to walk. If you’re a walker, your preparation could include an evening in the pub, followed by a tour of the nightclubs, before getting a taxi to the nearest Darkness Into Light venue, atoning for your sinful ways with an hour of mild exercise, and then heading home for a fry-up.

But if you’re running any kind of morning race, ideally, you need a good night’s sleep. You should then be up at least three hours before the off – first to have your banana-enriched muesli, or whatever, and then to go through a proper warm-up routine.

Whereas in the context of tomorrow’s event, I calculate, the right preparation would involve going to bed at about 4 o’clock this afternoon. And if I did this, what are the guarantees that my conscience wouldn’t keep me awake all evening, anyway, badgering me about everything else I should be doing?

IN PRINCIPLE, at least, I'm all for getting up in time to see the sun rise, occasionally. Just not as a routine. To those zealots who tell me the early bird catches the worm, I say, maybe, but the second mouse gets the cheese. And yet I know that, experienced in moderation, rising with the sun can be a rewarding experience.

As a child, I recall, one of my summer jobs was picking raspberries for a neighbour. Unfortunately, it was a modestly sized raspberry patch, and when a bunch of other kids from the local town started muscling in on my turf one summer, I had to take desperate action.

For several weeks, I set my alarm for the crack of dawn. All right, sometimes it might be a quarter-past the crack of dawn by the time I actually got up. But that was still more then early enough for me to do a sweep of the entire patch, picking all the big, juicy fruit before my competition arrived.

I’ll always remember those glorious mornings – the dew on the grass, the cool air, the scent of damp earth between the vines, and above all the powerful smell of victory as those feckless townies turned up for work three hours after me and discovered yet again that all the best raspberries were gone. Happy days.

From the same general era, and speaking of Darkness Into Light, I’m also reminded that one of the greatest sporting events of all time took place at 4 o’clock in the morning. I refer of course to the Rumble in the Jungle, the 1974 fight in which Muhammad Ali sealed his semi-legendary status.

It was supposed to be in September, was instead delayed until October – dangerously close to monsoon season, which broke within hours afterwards, flooding the venue – and took place, just to further confuse us, in Kinshasa’s “20th of May Stadium”. But as for the starting time, to suit live-viewing in the US, it had to be 4am in Zaire.

So as my conscience reminds me, Muhammad Ali is a dramatic example of the early bird theory (although, as I quickly riposted, George Foreman was up before dawn too that day and a fat lot of good it did him). At the very least, the memory of such heroics should inspire me to get up for a run.

Apart from the starting time, by the way, tonight’s/tomorrow’s event has one other echo of the Rumble in the Jungle, namely that it takes place in the 12th of May Stadium, better known as the Irish outdoors.

In such circumstances, the local monsoon season, which began in April, is always a worry. But the weather forecast for tonight is fairly good, so that’s no excuse, either. If all this wrestling with my conscience doesn’t wear me out beforehand, I may just have to do the damn thing.

In the meantime, anyone else considering a late entry can find out more at dil.pieta.ie