The long, sticky days hang on two tent-pole training sessions at the moment. One in the morning. One in the evening. Between gulps of warm tea, those sitting recently outside ther Esplanade Hotel or on the strand in Bray, feet stretched in front of them towards the sunshine in the past few weeks, may have noticed a busy, little shape buzzing up Bray Head. Up, up, up towards the large concrete cross; a one-woman Good Friday procession.

And when the sun didn’t shine, and the rain rolled out a welcome mat on the steep incline while no-one was there to notice the town’s most famous daughter? She ran up it anyway.

Last week’s quiet pilgrimage to the brow of the well-known hill was Katie Taylor’s last before the World Championships in Barbados. No harm. The torturous and boring routine is the least favourite element of her training schedule, though as the devout Christian knows and must sometimes reflects in the shadow of the cross: you reap what you sow.

Now, as Hugh McIlvanney wrote of Ali: ‘the hours are peeling away and soon he will have to grasp the bare wire of what that Wednesday morning will mean to him’. It’s almost show-time again.

In the afternoons the 24-year-old sits back in the passenger seat of her father’s car. Peter — a Liverpool-born man who is also Katie’s coach — points the motor towards the National Stadium on Dublin’s South Circular Road, though it could surely find itself there automatically at this stage.

The high performance gym is hunkered down next to the stadium itself. Four blue boxing rings run side-by-side towards a well-used weights room at the rear. The block walls are brightly painted and tagged with inspirational words from those who’ve ducked and weaved under these lights before. “Don’t follow your dreams —– chase them”. Roll of honour: Egan, Carruth, Sutherland, McCullough et al.

Taylor looks at home in their company. I poke my head around the door at Wednesday lunchtime.

Taylor, her father and female light-welterweight Allana Murphy of the East Side club are sitting on the nape of the nearest ring, chatting. Murphy is relaxed and jokes naturally with Taylor; don’t mind her, she’s a slagger, Katie tells me. But later that day, game-face on, Murphy books her ticket on the plane next to her friend for the world championships when she wins her box-off in the ring next door.

Taylor, our brightest Olympic hope, is expected to take her third world title on the trot in the Caribbean. We sit on a weights bench in the back of the hall before her second session of the day, where the only sounds in the hall will be instructions from her dad, the thud, thud, thud of the heavy punch bags and the whirl of her feet constantly dancing around the familiar ring. This is the fun part.

“We usually never train with the radio here. I don’t know why that is. In my own club we have the radio on,” says Taylor — a Paolo Nutini fan, “But it could be anything — I could be sparring to politics or something.

“I listen to all the same songs before my own fights though — my Christian songs mostly I suppose — and I read the same verses of the Bible and just to get into the zone that way. It’s all part of having a routine.

“I won’t get to see much of Barbados itself really — it’ll just be training and hotel rooms and boxing — same as usual really but at least it’s not flying into Ukraine or Russia for a change I suppose. That’s what we usually get.”

She speaks from experience. Two successful trips to world championships before have taught thought her about preparation; like what to pack in the suitcase next to the bandages and spare training gear.

“We’ll bring some of our own food. The usual stuff — Nutrigrains and little small things like cereals or pastas or whatever to keep you going.

“The weight thing is always a struggle for me, like most boxers. I’ll have to make 60 kilograms in three weeks and at the moment I’m in and around 62, 63 so there needs to be a little bit done. But no matter what, it’s always about the last kilo, that’s the real killer.

“The night before will sometimes be all about the wrapping up and sweating it out, you’re just trying to dehydrate yourself, it’s horrible,” she shrugs.

Taylor too of course has been an international-class attacker with Ireland’s ladies teams in the past. There’s no time to fill a green jersey pull on a pair of football boots at the moment.
“I played a few club matches this year for Peamount (a Dublin club) but I can’t fit in the international games at all. It’s getting harder and harder to do both. It’s all about the balance now.”

So after another one of the six day in which she wraps her hands to work is done — in two gyms and in two counties — she’ll crash out in the family home in Wicklow for the evening.
One day closer to Barbados. And then perhaps another title closer to London in 2012. She’s certainly working towards it.

adrian.russell@examiner.ie Twitter: @adrianrussell

This column first appeared in the print version of the Irish Examiner newspaper

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I spent some time in the high-performance gym at the National Stadium, on Dublin’s South Circular Road earlier today with our brightest Olympic hope and multiple title holder, Katie Taylor.

Check out Friday’s column in the Irish Examiner to see which one of us picked up two penalty points on the way home and which one is going to Barbados to fight other women soon.

Here’s a few interesting bits and pieces that people have been saying and writing this week. Incidentally, the increased post count here can be attributed to me abstaining from alcohol for the month. Like when George gave up sex in Seinfeld and ended up learning Portuguese.

Crystal Meth is a helluva drug. So says my favourite tennis punk Andre Agassi in a 60 minutes interview.

Meet the guy who has caught 3000 baseballs at MLB games.

The remote-controlled bowling ball. At last.

Fighting styles that’ll get your ass kicked. I’m looking at you capoeira.

Everyone watching Chelsea beat Man United last Sunday saw a guy in the crowd behind the bench, brushing his teeth. Here, he explains his actions. He’s a playa.

We bend, touch, pause and engage with Hollywood’s take on the 1995 Rugby World Cup on the Irish Examiner sportsdesk blog. Thanks to Simon Lewis.

Being part of Manny Pacquiao’s entourage means you get to sleep at the end of his bed. They’re a wacky bunch.

And for those who haven’t heard, a diplomatic incident erupts over the French Federation’s request for a box for President Sarkozy at Croker.

Gridiron star Tyrell Owens scores a touchdown, sprints to midfield, slams down the ball, and celbrates in the Dallas Cowboys’ star. This is like Graeme Souness planting the Galatasaray flag in the centre cirle that time. Watch what happens to T.O.

Darryl Dawkins prompts a chorus of tut-tuts from men in suits and wild admiration from fans when he shatters the backboard with an aggresive dunk in 1979.

George Foreman comes out of retirement to become the oldest heavyweight champ at 45 with a shocking 10th round win over Michael Moorer.

We’ll have to do an Irish version soon. Suggested entries: John Aldridge v the FIFA guy in the cap in Orlando; the ‘three-stripe affair’ that rocked the GAA in the 1970s and Donncha O’Callaghan’s risque adverts for a shower manufacturers. Any more?

“As you get older, it is harder to have heroes, but it is sort of necessary,” as Mr E Hemmingway said.

Leinster rugby star Shane Horgan and one pillar of Kerry’s attacking twin towers Tommy Walsh certainly agree; I had a quick chat with both about their own sporting inspirations.

“Muhammad Ali is someone I’ve always looked up to,” says Horgan, “Boxing is a sport I’ve a great interest in and Ali is someone who was obviously a boxing star – but transcended that,” says Horgan.

“I don’t really know if modern icons like Tiger Woods are more bland really. It was a different time and there really aren’t the battles there to be fought like there was for Ali – racism, Vietnam all that.

“But there certainly has been a whole mythology built up around him with Norman Nailer’s book (The Fight) and I suppose the When We Were Kings film.

Kerry footballer Tommy Walsh, who’s rangy style and aggressive running reveals a hoops fan, insists Michael Jordan is an inspiration.

“Just like Star (Kieren Donaghy) I also played a lot of basketball when I was younger and there was no one to match Micheal Jordan.

“Watching him really inspired me to get out here and practise and of course like all the young lads I was always decked out in the latest Air Jordan gear.

“He was no angel, certainly, but he had to be tough. He was the best there was and you don’t get there by not standing up for yourself.”

The fascinating sub-plot to the showdown is the verbose rivalry that’s developed between the respective trainers: Floyd Mayweather Sr and Freddy Roach.

One is the estranged father of a living legend in the sport. A loud, brash, trash-talking but talented coach who admits he never reached his potential as a fighter and ballsed up his personal life.

The other forged his reputation as a trainer in the hot kiln that was Mickey Rourke’s corner. He now suffers from Parkinson’s disease and owns and runs the now-famed Wild Card gym in LA.

Let’s get ready, etc and so on…