SITTING in the NAC car park on a Sunday morning, hysterically crying, awaiting a motorcycle lift to Wicklow, I did begin to wonder how it came to this?
The previous morning at Seapoint, I’d rushed off to work a late shift and left behind my Arena kneeskin. People went back, everyone was called. It was, frustratingly, gone.
In an open sea race there are remoras, dolphins and sharks. In high wind in Mullaghmore Bay, swimmers can experience all three; at least I did.
It’s dark and raining. You can’t see any bodies, but you can feel the water around them moving. Those bubbles are the only connection you have with human life in a swelly 5km sea race.