What now Rio has gone?

Thomas Barr arrives home!

I woke up, early, on Monday morning, sore and stiff from another battering from the Sean Kelly 160km Comeragh Challenge (well done ALL involved). Switched on the television, low and behold there was NO more news from Rio on the BBC Breakfast! The Olympics had ended on Sunday evening with a riotous closing ceremony.

What now for the sporting mad who tune into this world showcase every four years and watch all manner of sports, which we never knew existed, but could get so excited about.

Rio was destined to be a very tough act to follow the hugely successful 2012 London Olympics, with packed out arenas, stadia and swimming pools. London, a City so accessible to the rest of the world, was always going to be an incredibly well supported games, as it can be directly reached by a plethora of sporting mad countries. But to get to Brazil in large numbers was going to create many challenges.

Brazil, as we know, is the embodiment of a football crazy nation and to get the circa 200 million people of this country to go to weightlifting, swimming, judo, rugby sevens, skeet shooting (clay pigeons to you and I) etc., some saw as impossible.

But as the Olympics entered their second week, with more and more home-grown success stories emerging, we started to see fewer and fewer empty seats. The Games had started to grip the imagination of the Brazilian public. A few medals here and there also helped – 19 in total, including 7 gold.

I followed my own Scottish competitors as they gave 100% (nobody can really give 110%) contributing significantly to helping Team GB and NI to second place in the final medal table. A collection of medals that will lift a nation and motivate a generation to get up off the sofa, switch off the PS4, stop chasing Pokémon and get inspired to try out a new sport.

Whilst, here in Ireland we watched our boxers embroiled in a drugs allegation and then the main medal hopes, would lose to judges who were quite clearly watching fights with their eyes closed. We viewed in horror as Patrick Hickey, the head of the OCI, made headline news for all the wrong reasons. Was Ireland’s only reward for going to Rio, to be the cold hard steel of a set of handcuffs – no gold, silver or bronze?

Then just in time, along come the O’Donovan brothers, fuelled on spuds and steak, pulling like dogs, to row their way to a silver medal. Annalise Murphy, under the watchful eyes of Christ the Redeemer, sailed her Laser Radial to another silver medal.

Olympic flag arrives in Tokyo.

But surely the hero of these games has to be Waterford’s own Thomas Barr? He started his own qualification in that most punishing and exhausting of races, the 400m hurdles. Now just imagine trying to run flat out, for 400m, and then trying to jump over ten 3-feet high hurdles.

Thomas, ranked 10^th after round one, then won his semi-final to reach the final. He dipped under the magical 48 second barrier and finished fourth in the Olympic final. An incredible achievement from the Ferrybank AC athlete, to reach the final and to be the fourth best hurdler in the whole world, is something we in Waterford must embrace and shout about. I hope that Thomas gets his just rewards and is asked to compete in every Diamond League event for the next 12 to 24 months.

So, as the Olympic flag was handed over to Tokyo, Japan, for the 2020 Olympics I now have four long years to wait to reacquaint myself with such diverse sports as archery, diving, wrestling, water polo, taekwondo, weightlifting and even trampolining!

Good Bye Rio!

Rio 2016 was, by all media accounts, going to be a disaster of an Olympics. It was to be the Games that would be defined by the Russian drugs scandal, political skulduggery, budgetary and security concerns. The last three weeks we have seen athletes give their ALL for their country and we can ask no more than that.

The Rio Olympics were quite simply “Perfectly, Imperfect!”

Memories - One hell of a ride!

On the 20^th and 21^st August thousands will take part in the Sean Kelly Tour of Waterford.

I have once again signed up to tackle the gruelling Sean Kelly 160km, along with many another Lycra clad pedal pushers – drivers be warned, the roads will literally be thronging with cyclists!

My memory of last year, the first time I tackled this most challenging of cycling events, is still very vivid and fresh, as though it was only yesterday that I completed the course, over some of Sean’s “training routes”. Whilst, I will never be a great cyclist, like Sean, I can at least say I have trained on the roads that made him the great cycling ambassador for Waterford!

Here is my memory of the 2015 Sean Kelly 160km.

I collected my goodie bag, the night before the event. This contained; a snazzy commemorative race jersey, a bottle of water, a couple of flapjacks, wristband and a bike registration number sticker. When I returned to the car I had a feeling that I would need far more than a couple of flapjacks and one bottle of water, to complete the daunting task that I would take on the very next day.

At 07:45 I and ten other Biscuits, set off from Dungarvan on an adventure that would test each and every one of us. Ahead lay 160 kilometres of hills, hills and more hills!!!!!

As we shot up The Pike and veered left at Lemybrien, we cycled for around 10km with the imposing Mahon Falls, shrouded by black low clouds, taunting us, teasing us and ultimately calling us, knowing that we would have to cycle, walk or crawl up this wicked hill at around 120km into the route.

But our first real challenge would be a wee hill called “Tickincor” at around 55km. Now if you have never heard of this hill go out, find it and try to drive up it. You will very quickly see just how steep it is and then image how hard it is to cycle up the damn thing!

Roche & Kelly

The “Powers The Pot” was the next hill at around 90km. Some comedian spray painted “3km to go” after what seemed like an eternity on the hill, just to remind us how hard the bloody climb was. There was a collective intake of breath, the odd swear word, when I and my fellow Biscuits crossed this marker and a realisation we were only halfway up this mammoth test of endurance. Up at the top, the Biscuits regrouped, then a quick food stop at Rathgormack and we headed towards the final challenge of the dreaded, nasty climb up Mahon Falls.

At around 120km the Falls called us like some cruel Siren would have called Greek ships to their doom. Low gear selected, with some “Rusty Spokes” ahead of me to chase up the Falls, I dropped my head down and I was off. Some hellish 20 odd minutes later, it was all over and a quick regroup with my fellow Biscuits and it was “all downhill” to the finish (so they told me).

No it wasn’t! We still had the 7km or 8km drag up the Mama Road.

Mama Road conquered and now it was mostly downhill to the finish line in Dungarvan. We had enough in our legs to manage a wee sprint and top speed of 53kph on the borders of Dungarvan.

One final regroup and these 11 Biscuits crossed the line together in perfect formation. Our wee group had stayed together for 160km of torture, hell, fun, laughs, memories and a sense of accomplishment.

Well done to ALL involved. A great event, great company, great event organisation, a great “Packet of Biscuits” and above all a great occasion for Waterford to be VERY proud of.

It was one hell of a ride! Bring on the 2016 SKT.

The question is, will I be so elated after next Sunday’s cycle. Oh the joys of looking forward to “THAT” pain in my legs once again!

One hell of a ride!

Last weekend was yet another busy weekend right across the City and County.

The wonderful Waterford Walls, one of the BEST projects I have witnessed to date in Waterford City, and the Dunmore East Food Festival both attracted significantly large crowds to the City and village respectfully. And of course we also had the Iverk Show (actually in Kilkenny – but a great event none the less) and the Sean Kelly Cycling Tours.

Now I was lucky enough to get involved in both the Iverk Show and the Sean Kelly Tour, but in very, very different ways!

Mr Sean Kelly joins The Biscuits.

A number of weeks ago, whilst Chairing one of the Waterford Business Group weekly meetings, I agreed with Fiona Quilty (of Pamela Scott fashion outlet in the City Centre) to help her out with the fashion show that takes place during the Iverk Show. Little did I think that I would actually be called upon to take part? My call to participate in the Iverk Show happened last weekend and I duly shuffled the kids into the Mini and we shot up to Piltown, parked the car and reported for duty at 12:30 in plenty of time for my first foray onto the catwalk at 13:00.

The showground was heaving with visitors when we arrived and we found our way to the marquee that would hold the fashion show. There was a flurry of activity backstage in the compact and bijou dressing area. Unfortunately, my contact rider had clearly not been read as I saw absolutely no sign of my requested Yak’s milk refreshments, there were no bowls yellow only M & M’s, no deep fried Mars bars etc. The models were mainly ladies (as one would expect) ranging from teens to more “experienced” models. In terms of the male sex there were three teenagers, a couple of twenty somethings and the three older guys (including me) and we were all strangely the same age, 37 I believe!!!!

We soon realised that our clothes would not arrive in time for the 13:00 show so we had to sit out the first performance, but there was no rest for the wicked as 15:00 duly arrived, our clothes arrived and we were off and walking.

Mean & moody at the Iverk Show!

Two very quick clothes changes and two trips up and down the catwalk, with a wee twirl halfway down, and it was all over. Far too brief and yet very, very enjoyable but unfortunately there were no agents in the audience and so I can discount a future modelling career. My debut in London Fashion Week will have to wait another year.

From Piltown we jumped back into the Mini and we then shot off to Dungarvan to register for the Sean Kelly Tour Comeragh Challenge160km (the tough one!). Having pre-registered some weeks ago I, without any delay, collected my high-vis goodie bag which contained; a snazzy commemorative race jersey, a bottle of water, a couple of flapjacks, a wristband (for food stops) and a bike registration number sticker thing – a registration plate of sorts (Maria McCann take note!). I bumped into the great man himself Mr Sean Kelly at registration and it was so good to see such a high profile personality actually getting “stuck in”. As I returned to the car I had a feeling that I would need far more than a couple of flapjacks and one bottle of water to complete the daunting task that I would take on the very next day.

At precisely 07:45 I and ten other Biscuits set off from Dungarvan on an adventure that would test each and every one of us. Ahead lay 160 kilometres of hills, hills and more hills!!!!! Another packet of Biscuits set off slightly earlier and a whole tin of Biscuits set off slightly later to take on the 100km challenge.

As we shot up The Pike and veered left at Lemybrien we cycled for around 10km with the imposing Mahon Falls, shrouded by black low clouds, taunting us, teasing us and ultimately calling us knowing that we would have to cycle, walk or crawl up this wicked hill at around 120km into the route. It was as though the organisers had shown us a glimpse of the Coliseum before throwing us to lions.   

But our first real challenge would be a wee hill called “Tickincor” at around 55km. Now if you have never heard of this hill go out and find it and try to drive up it, and you will very quickly see just how steep it is and then imaging how hard it is to cycle up the damn thing. I encountered two small problems prior to Tickinor. My “toolkit-saddle-bag” had taken such a battering in the first 45km that the bracket snapped and my Kilted Piper mascot wedged himself in my brakes causing a rather rapid stop and some remedial works. Slightly further on disaster once again stuck as the “toolkit-saddle-bag” once again decided to fall to the ground and this necessitated yet another stop and a MacGyver type fix that thankfully lasted the remainder of the journey.

The “Powers The Pot” was the next hill at around 90km. Whilst grinding up the hill for what seemed like an eternity some comedian spray-painted 3km to go just to remind us how hard the bloody climb was. There was a collective intake of breath, and the odd swear word, when I and my fellow Biscuits crossed this marker and there was a collective realisation that there was a hell of a long way to go to get up this mammoth test of endurance. Up at the top of the “Powers The Pot” the Biscuits regrouped, posed for a few photographs and then we all set off for a quick food stop at Rathgormack before we headed towards the final challenge of the demanding Mahon Falls.

At the top of The Falls.

At around 120km The Falls called us like some cruel Siren would have called the Greek ships to come ever closer to their ultimate doom! Lowest gear selected and with some “Rusty Spokes” ahead of me to chase up The Falls, I dropped my head down, lolly pop in my mouth for energy and I was off. Some hellish 20 odd minutes later it was all over and a quick regroup with my fellow Biscuits, another photograph, and it was “all downhill” to the finish (or so they told me).

No it wasn’t! We still had the 6km or 7km drag up to the mast at the top of the Mama Road.

Mama Road conquered and now it was “mostly downhill” to the finish line in Dungarvan. We had enough in our legs to manage a wee sprint and top speed of 53kph on the borders of Dungarvan.

One final regroup and these 11 Biscuits crossed the line together in, dare I say, perfect cycling formation – it really was Tour de France stuff!. Our wee group had stayed together for 160km of torture, hell, fun, laughs, memories and a sense of accomplishment.

Looking good in Lycra!

Well done to ALL involved. A great event, great company, great event organisation, a great “Packet of Biscuits” and above all a great occasion for Waterford to be VERY proud of.

It was one hell of a ride! Cannot wait for the 2016 SKT.