When the gun goes in Dublin this October, one familiar figure will be there again. Seamus Cawley of West Limerick AC has started and finished every Dublin Marathon since 1980. Forty three on the bounce. Number forty four is calling.
“It was never a plan. I just kept tipping away and next thing you know, you are back again the following year.”
From Rathkeale to Dublin
Seamus first fell into running in the late seventies when a juvenile club started up in Rathkeale. By 1979 West Limerick AC had formed under Father Liam Kelleher, an international coach who pushed the young men of the parish into athletics with stopwatch in hand. “Father Kelleher set me up, gave me his stopwatch, and told me what to do.”
By the time the inaugural Dublin City Marathon rolled around in 1980, Seamus had already dipped his toe into the marathon distance. His first efforts were fairly unorthodox. “I remember the Munster Marathon, I had no training done, and I’d been out the night before having a few beverages. That was my introduction.”
The first Dublin went a little better. “I prepared well and I broke three hours by twenty six seconds. A second a mile in it.” That was enough to get him hooked.
Between 1980 and 1990, Cawley became a regular on the national scene, bringing his personal best down to two hours thirty five and helping West Limerick win the national marathon team title in 1985. Training was simple. Run hard, run often. “Up to a hundred miles a week some years. Out the door after work and gone. I don’t know how the body lasted.”
Back then the sport was still a curiosity. “You could finish a race and there might be nobody there at the line. Maybe a hundred runners in the whole thing. Then Dublin came along. Noel Carroll and RTÉ pushed it and suddenly you had 2,500 people starting on a Monday morning. We even collected our numbers the same morning of the race. Imagine trying that now.”
Forty Three Dublin Marathons and Counting
The streak was never planned. A year rolled into the next and Seamus kept showing up. He admits there were hairy moments. “One year I woke up with a stomach bug the night before. I was stopping, getting sick, then going again. People told me afterwards it was dangerous, but I got around in about three and a half. I always made the line.”
A knee tear brought keyhole surgery, but he managed to come back and kept moving. After the 24th edition, a group of ever presents were told their entries would be free from then on.
In 2019 the group were honoured for the 40th Dublin marathon by being sent off first. “It was strange seeing all the runners flying past, and I was thinking, was I ever able to run that pace.
Then near the finish I realised I would get under four hours. That was a lovely feeling.”
Dublin through the Years
Ask Seamus about the course and you get a tour guide’s memory, except with bollards, potholes, and detours included. “We’ve finished in Smithfield. We headed out to the Docklands one year back when there was nothing there. One year there were two loops out near the Red Cow and we were practically lapping each other.”
He knows the traps for young players. “Every year someone goes flying into the bollards. People shoot off too fast, tire themselves out and then try to sprint at the end and pull a hamstring. Same mistakes every year.”
The weather has played its part. “I don’t mind the rain. Wind is worse. In the early eighties we had days where you knew you wouldn’t get your time.”
And then there are the sights. “One year I caught up to an American who had a pint of Guinness in hand.”
Shoes have been the one constant. “Asics Kayano. I’ve worn them for thirty years. They suit me. They’re on version thirty something at this stage. I’ve tried plenty, but that one works the best for me.”
He laughs at the idea of a secret to longevity. “Consistency. That’s it. I always run my own pace and never off the cliff.”
Life, Running, and a Few Home Truths
Marathon weekend is a family affair. “My wife comes up. Our daughter lives in Dublin now, she’s been coming since she was knee high. We stay two nights now and make a weekend of it. I usually fit in a football match too if I can”
Back home, he’s proud of how the club has grown. “We have a new track in Newcastle West. Grants sorted, proper facility in place. The next generation will have everything available to them. We were out on the roads or in fields.”
So what does Dublin mean to him after all these years? “It has a special place in my heart. It’s become a way of life. You go up, you get it done, you go again. People at home still say, are you still doing it?”
There were ten ever presents left at the time we spoke: nine men and one woman. He tips his cap to the others. “Mary Hickey Nolan is an amazing woman. She’s done them all. She even ran one while expecting her son. Martin Kelly from Raheny was so young at the first one he needed a letter from his mother.” Since we spoke Mary Hickey Nolan has stated she will not the run Dublin Marathon this year, bringing to an end her stretch as an ever present.
And what about advice for the thousands of first timers lining up this year? “Pace yourself. Find the pace that feels right and settle. Don’t sprint at the start. Don’t change your kit on the day. Have proper shoes that suit you. Listen to your body. Walk your way into the race. Try to enjoy it. I always said I just wanted to get to the finish, but if you can smile at a few miles, do.”
Above all, he says running is for the head as much as the legs. “You go out the road, the head clears, and life looks a bit easier.”
You Get It Done and Go Again
For all the medals, miles and memories, Seamus still shrugs it off the way only a West Limerick man can. No fuss, no grand speeches, just the next start line and the next pair of Kayano shoes. Dublin has become part of his rhythm, as natural as breathing, and he’ll keep tipping away for as long as the legs will carry him.
Rain, wind, bollards, even the American with the pint of plain, he has seen it all. And yet every October he lines up with the same attitude that’s carried him through every mile since 1980: “You go up, you get it done, and you go again.”
Image: Irish Life Dublin Marathon