Like everyone in our club, I was stunned when George Harrison died in June this year. As a runner, clubmate and friend, he was an example in his dedicated approach to training, his support and coaching advice for other runners, and his remarkable determination in overcoming injury and illness.

Running was important to George, and George was important to Liffey Valley AC. After his last run, he put his running shoes under the bench in the clubhouse. They’re there still. Some days still I expect to see him out running in the Park, or in the clubhouse giving (and taking) a good-natured slagging. I can see him arguing the toss, jabbing his finger for emphasis and using his barbed wit to hammer home a point. I know other people in the club find it hard to come to terms with his passing too.

My own memories of him stem from the late 1980s, with Dads Army, building up for the Dublin Marathon. Long runs on Sunday mornings, with an Autumn chill in the air as you started out over Islandbridge, and fallen leaves piled up on the sides of the road as you ran. Perfect marathon weather.

George had a great way with other runners – whether you ran at the back of the group, the middle or the front. He played a vital role on the coaching team for the Women’s section, freely sharing his experiences and knowledge of running (and lots of other things too). With George, you didn’t have to be the best runner, but you did have to give your best. Of course, if you were going too well and dropping Dads Army out on the run, he’d issue you with your FO papers to go and train with a faster group.

When George had very serious spinal surgery. I went to visit him in the Central Remedial Clinic. After I saw him make his way on crutches to the coffee bar, I thought he wouldn’t walk normally again, let alone run. But when George asked his surgeon if he would run again, the surgeon said he could walk, and in time try to jog a little. George told him “If I can walk, I can jog. If I can jog, I can run”. So he spent countless hours in gym sessions, bike rides, acupuncture, pilates, stretching. Whatever it took to get himself right, he did it. He noted every tiny change, built on every improvement and left nothing to chance. His attention to detail and determination to succeed was remarkable. And he did run again. Within 12 months of surgery, he was back to up to 6 mile runs with Dermot Ryan and doing fartlek.

To mark George’s passing and honour his memory, I decided shortly after he died to run the 2008 Dublin Marathon. If he could run again after all he had been through, I could run the Marathon again. I thought he’d approve of the idea, and 16 years on from my last marathon, I was out building up for another. Tucking into Dads Army on a Sunday morning, getting shelter and support among clubmates for the hard miles at the end of of a long run. Una Reilly shares many of my memories of George and became my chief marathon minder. Mairead Murphy was running the marathon too, and joined me to honour George and raise funds. With Jimmy Monaghan acting as banker, Liffey Valley club members raised over €1,000 for Crumlin Childrens’ Hospital and St Lukes Cancer Care services..

So on 27th October, 2008, in perfect marathon weather, Mairead and I ran the Dublin Marathon to honour George. At halfway Una joined me, and we ran together to 25 miles. She had George’s memoriam card with her as we ran, and I carried it in my hand for the final mile and across the finish line. The marathon finisher’s medal is with his running shoes under the bench in the clubhouse. I think he would approve. I know he’d approve of the fundraising. I don’t know what he’d say, but knowing George it would probably include something like “….you probably could have got a bit closer to the 3 hours mark”. Thanks George, for all the miles and all the memories.

Dublin 2008. A marathon run. One for George.

Steve Coughlan

Oct 08