Pillow Talk at Achill Running’s August Event 2017

My legs a bit wobbly from running my first ever marathon the day before, without training I might add (blog post on this coming soon), I decide to double gun it and use two cameras to take photos of this event.The reason for using two cameras is so that I can take two different styles of photographs of participants – one wide angle, and one portrait style with a telephoto lens, as you can see below.

The event has low numbers, but the atmosphere is one of joy and I don’t capture a single person that isn’t smiling.

Perhaps they are smiling because I’m a handsome bastard with a Greek godlike complexion; perhaps it’s because I, The Galway COW, emanate a sort of spiritual presence the likes of which is recognised by billions of Hindu’s globally; or perhaps I’m just talking sheer bolox.

Please, pardon my French, s’il vous plaît!

In truth, I ran the event the day before and was only signed up to do one lap of the course (a half marathon) but enjoyed it in such a special way that I decided to do a second lap (a full marathon) and I suspect this is why folks are smiling – the landscape is magical and the air is invigorating.

Having gone beyond my limits in running the day before with no training, my body was in a sort of shock that I think prevented me from sleeping a wink and so the call of the pillow is whispering seductively in my ear for the entire day.

One of the health and safety crew, John Quinn, pulls up beside me for a time and keeps me entertained with stories such as dressing up as a woman to run the women’s marathon.

“Would they notice you weren’t a woman?” I enquired.

“I think the tash gives it away,” he laughs.

Once I am sure I have captured every participant at least twice, I head back to the start line, where race director Donna McLoughlin, along with her boyfriend Francis, are lashing out hugs and praise in such a display of from-the-heart warmth as I have never seen at any running event ever.

At this point the pillows are still softly calling, like a ghostly spectre at the window of a dying man whose soul they have come to retrieve from the earthly realms; and so I acquire a bed in a nearby hostel where the talk, for a little while, gives way to oblivion.

🙂