There are certain weekends in Galway when the city seems to breathe with one set of lungs. This is one of them.
On Saturday night, thousands will lace up their running shoes and pour onto the streets for the 40th running of the Streets of Galway Race, a milestone that has transformed what began as a modest "Sport for All" event in 1986 into one of the city's great annual rituals. A day later, in Croke Park, another Galway team will chase history as the county's senior camogie champions attempt to defend the O'Duffy Cup against old adversaries Cork.
Two very different occasions. Yet they are bound by the same thread. They speak of a county that has always understood that sport is about far more than medals, cups or finishing times. It is about belonging.
There is nothing quite as delightful as running the Streets of Galway.
For years I stood on the sidelines envying those who did it. Then, for a decade, I became one of them, and every August I looked forward to that rare privilege of seeing my own city from a runner's perspective. Nowadays arthritic hips have informed me, in no uncertain terms, that pounding hard roads belongs to another chapter of life. I miss it every year.
Someone once remarked that the Streets of Galway is the only opportunity you get to run freely through Galway without having stolen anything or having a security guard after you. There is more truth than humour in that line.
From Fr Friffin Road, you shuffle up Merchants Road, squeeze into Eyre Square, dodging the odd leg-deadening bollard which appears from the massed crowd without warning. Suddenly Eglinton Street opens before you, wonderfully empty, and for perhaps the only time in your life you can run straight down its centre. No waiting for traffic lights at the courthouse or Town Hall. No impatient motorists. The city simply belongs to the runners.
Crossing Salmon Weir Bridge and heading towards University Hospital Galway always carried special meaning for me. A year before my first Streets of Galway, I had spent a month inside those walls. Every year as I passed, I found myself thinking of those who, through illness or injury, could not be out running that day. It became a quiet moment of gratitude, and a silent wish that healing would soon find them.
Out past Nile Lodge, climbing Devon Park, around Threadneedle Road, down towards Pearse Stadium, legs beginning to complain. Then comes my favourite stretch of all.
The Prom.
Emerging onto Salthill's famous seafront, the Atlantic breeze seems to arrive exactly when it is needed most. It lifts weary shoulders and somehow persuades tired legs to keep going. The sea runs beside you, the finish grows closer, South Park arrives, the Claddagh Hall comes into view, and suddenly the aches disappear. There are few sweeter feelings than crossing that finish line.
For forty years now, this race has become one of Galway's great rites of passage. From the 540 runners who answered the starter's gun in 1986 to the 4,000 expected this weekend, it has remained remarkably faithful to its original purpose. It welcomes the elite athlete chasing seconds and the first-time runner chasing confidence with equal warmth.
The winner matters. Every finisher matters more.
As Galway celebrates four decades of its signature road race, another group wearing maroon will carry the county's hopes into Croke Park.
If the Streets of Galway celebrates endurance, Sunday's All-Ireland senior camogie final celebrates excellence.
Galway and Cork have become the defining rivalry of modern camogie. Seven of the last nine All-Ireland titles have gone west or south, each county repeatedly forcing the other to discover new levels of performance. Last year's dramatic one-point Galway victory, sealed by Carrie Dolan's unforgettable late free, only deepened the respect and rivalry between two magnificent teams.
Now they meet again.
History beckons for Cathal Murray's side. Galway have never successfully defended the O'Duffy Cup. They have the opportunity to do something no Galway camogie team has ever achieved.
It will not be easy. Cork remain formidable, driven by the memory of last August and armed with pace, experience and remarkable depth. Finals between these counties are rarely decided until the closing minutes, and there is every reason to believe Sunday will offer another unforgettable contest.
Yet Galway teams seem to be travelling with an extra spring in their step this week.
Last Sunday's astonishing football victory over Kerry reminded everyone that belief is a powerful thing. Across the county, conversation has been dominated by one of the greatest championship performances in recent memory. It was a result built on courage, resilience and refusing to accept what others believed inevitable.
The camogie team will hardly need additional motivation. They are champions already. But knowing another Galway team has inspired an entire county cannot do any harm.
Perhaps that is the beauty of weekends like this.
Thousands will run together through Galway's streets simply because they can. Thousands more will travel east believing another maroon team can write another chapter in sporting history.
One event reminds us how fortunate we are to move.
The other reminds us how fortunate we are to dream.
Whether your finish line is the Claddagh Hall or the Hogan Stand, this weekend belongs to Galway.
To every runner taking part in the 40th Streets of Galway Race, may the wind be at your back and the Prom carry you home.
And to the Galway camogie team, may Sunday's journey end with the O'Duffy Cup making the trip west once more.
