IT’S 9am on a Sunday morning. You are standing on Benone Strand with the sound of the Atlantic Ocean crashing against your ears.
It’s the middle of February. You can taste the salty air on your lips. You’re cold, nervous and unsure.
A lean, hard-looking guy called Vinny stands before you and says: “For the next two hours, you will be treated as if you are in the Irish Army.”
Vinny is from the Irish Army. You check Vinny’s facial expression to see if he might be joking. Is a punch-line coming?
Nope. No punch-line. Vinny is not joking. Oh God.
This is the precise scenario that confronted 45 members of Slaughtneil GAC just over a fortnight ago.
One hour into the boot camp, Aidey Quigg was crawling on his hands and knees through the sand and the surf, pushing a sandbag, questioning his very sanity.
“I’ll not be joining the Irish Army any day soon,” said Aidey to himself.
Johnny McKaigue was also struggling. Johnny is a fit man.
Johnny was thinking: ‘If I am finding this difficult, how the hell is Sean McGuigan coping?’
Club chairman Sean McGuigan is 65-years-old. Sean did it.
To quote the late Charlie McCrory: ‘It would have killed a normal man.’
Why did the good people of Slaughtneil subject themselves to this ordeal?
They did it because they signed up to the Energetic Emmets.
Johnny McKaigue is the main driver behind the initiative.
I am from Glen and Johnny is from Slaughtneil. I would still classify Johnny as a friend.
Yes, that’s how liberal South Derry society has become. I know. It’s shocking.
Johnny is a gifted organiser. Last year, he was put in charge of organising our bike ride to Mallorca.
He did it with two WhatsApp messages.
There are people who can send upwards of 100 messages for a coffee and a chat in the café.
Anyway, Johnny took the idea for Energetic Emmetts from Moneyglass GAC and put Slaughtneil’s stamp on it.
This year there were five teams of 14 people. There is a weight-loss competition with prizes.
The awards ceremony and celebrations was held in the Oak Leaf Restaurant last Saturday night.
During the six-weeks, various exercise classes and activities were laid-on every day. It’s a monumental community effort.
As an example, let’s take a Friday from the timetable
At 6am, there was a Turbo Spin class in our gym, Train Station Fitness Academy.
At 9:15am, there was a circuits class in The Gym, Maghera owned by Ollie Cummings.
At 7pm there was Boxercise session in the GAA hall and a walk.
Friday’s activities ended at 8pm with a beginners’ circuits class.
The immediate benefits of Energetic Emmets are obvious.
As a New Year scheme, it enables members to engage in exercise and lose weight.
However, Slaughtneil have discovered that the overall payback is far more wide-reaching than merely trimming waistlines.
It has helped to introduce members back into the club.
Moreover, it has been a great way for women who ‘married into the club’ to get to know people.
I have witnessed the wondrous effects of the scheme at first hand.
A few weeks after it started, I was asked to deliver my Life Changer presentation to the Energetic Emmets.
It’s a talk on food, fitness and lifestyle that I usually give to companies.
Extra-time in the All-Ireland club final between Kilcoo and Corofin caused a delay to the start.
It took about half-an-hour before everyone arrived.
As everyone waited, it was fascinating to observe the atmosphere in the room.
Before a talk to a company, even if the staff knows each other very well, it’s usually fairly stilted and muted.
Not in Slaughtneil. The decibel levels were high.
The conversation in that room was full throttle. Everybody knew each other.
You could feel the sense of togetherness and camaraderie.
No one was checking their phone.
Instagram, Snapchat, Facebook and WhatsApp had to play second best to actual face-to-face conversation. Wow.
Of course, such esprit-de-corps is common among people who have been in the trenches together.
That said, with the Energetic Emmets, the sandbags and suffering hadn’t even happened at that point.
That’s what Benone was for.
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LAST Wednesday’s column was about my favourite bike ride, an epic day in the Glens of Antrim followed by food and chat in Pappy’s Paradise.
I try to ride my bike every day. It’s not just for fitness. It’s great for the soul too.
Last Wednesday was utterly miserable. It must have been one of the greyest, wettest days in the last 100 years.
Caged inside all day, I could stick it no more and eventually escaped for a spin on the bike. The traditional 20-mile loop: Maghera, Lavey, Bellaghy, Castledawson, Curran, Tobermore and home.
Between Bellaghy and Castledawson my chain snapped. Fortunately, my cousin Chris McCann lives within walking distance of where this shocking calamity occurred.
Cousin Chris isn’t my first cousin. He’s not even my second cousin. But he’s the best bike fitter in the country and he’s also my bike mechanic, so as far as I’m concerned, he’ll always be Cousin Chris to me.
I walked, bike in hand, through the driving rain to Chris’s house.
His son, one of the best young cyclists in Ireland, and therefore, Cousin Conor, informed me that Cousin Chris was at a bike show in England.
Conor drove me home.
I left the bike at the home of Inspired Cycling.
“Are you leaving it here?” checked Conor.
“As far as I’m concerned you can throw it over that hedge,” I told him.
“I hate cycling.”
