The Man Who United Ireland

Crosbie says that swimming and running don't mix, and that "endurance comes from running 70 or 80 naked miles a week, but stamina comes from sprinting."

"Stamina?" says Coghlan. "I disagree. Sprinting just sharpens my speed."

"Ah, as soon as I open a hole, you have a post to stick in it. I'll tell you why I never was a coach, even though I studied all this for 40 years—because I would always fight with my athletes."

"Ah, Barney, you would," says Coghlan with a soft smile. "But it's a great pair of hands you have."

As they part, Crosbie's farewell is, "Come a day and go a day and God send Sunday."

Come Sunday and Coghlan has his 20-mile run with club-mates. This morning it was with Paddy Keogh, a hard-muscled bus driver in his late 30s who runs 20 miles every day. "And never won a thing," says Coghlan with respect for the man's love of simply covering the country.

"I run because if I didn't I'd just end up in the boozer," says Paddy cheerfully as they set off against a cool, wet wind, heading for the hills that rise behind Dublin. For a while they chatter about obscure club politics, training and how the devil appeared at the old tavern, visible above them, where the Hell-Fire Club met. "He came as a black cat," says Coghlan in seeming earnest. "Blew a hole right through the roof." Coghlan's Irishness includes a certain faith in what might be called divine justice. "I could never fake an injury to get out of a race promise," he has said. "If I did that, I'd be afraid I'd actually get the injury I faked." Or what might be called superstition.

On the steepest pitches the only sounds are the runners' soggy footfalls and their blowing as they work at the hill. Stone pasture walls give way to thickening pine woods and then vistas. They turn onto an unpaved track. It is clean and cool this morning, and Coghlan slows to better enjoy the landscape. Dublin below is hidden by clouds. He speaks of his growing stamina, saying that runs like this were once devastating labor but now are exhilarating.

"I'm sure in my heart that I can run a good 5,000. It may even turn out to be my best event." He ran 13:26.6 for the 3?-mile distance in an exciting race last year in Dublin in which he made up 100 meters on England's Mike McLeod in the last 800, winning narrowly with a 56-second last lap.

They leave the woods for a paved road that climbs on toward Kilakee, running through open terrain with flinty outcroppings. Coghlan laments not being able to see the summits, but there is an eerie splendor to the slopes ascending into mists. Coghlan is asked if in these high and windswept places he experiences a sensation of escape.