Both my kids assure me that I said “Never again” shortly after completing my only marathon to date, the 2010 London Marathon. I find this hard to believe as (a) I always had it in mind to run a marathon with Liz and (b) I felt I could get a faster time than my 2010 effort. On completing the National Cross Country Championships I definitely did say “Never again” and meant it.
I must go around with my eyes closed and a beatific expression on my face. Either that or I have some sort of selective hearing problem, as I was completely unprepared for the scene that greeted us when we arrived at Alton Towers for the cross country. A sea of mud as far as the eye could see. Each year they show clips of Glastonbury on TV and I mumble things like “What kind of an idiot would go there and call it fun” and there I was up to my ankles in mud, about to have my own “fun”.
The first sign that something was not quite right was the fleet of ambulances making their way from the site. The news that St John Ambulance had requested a delay in the programme as they were struggling to keep up with the high number of incidents caused by falls on the course and the cold weather added to the frisson of excitement. A section of the course to which first-aiders and ambulances were unable to gain easy access was eliminated leading to a revision of the course for the later races. Ours was shortened from 12k to 10k in order to ensure the programme was completed before the light began to fail.
The delays were hardest on the girls under 15s as they were stood around for ages waiting for their race to start. Well done to Ellie and Bex for giving it their best under trying circumstances. After their race we got changed ready to run. The time I’d spent the previous day cleaning up my trail shoes so they’d look their best for the nationals was time completely wasted. We found a decent spot towards the top of a hill and cheered on the ladies. This was the first time I’d seen top class athletes live and they’re different from us plodders. How can they function without any noticeable body fat? It was good to see some familiar vests and cheer on runners from the Yorkshire clubs.
I didn’t really get a feel for just how difficult the course was until we set off on our race. There was no escaping the mud. I set off at what I considered to be a sustainable pace only to find I couldn’t sustain it. I was soon clarted up and regretting my little bimble round parkrun in the morning. After a long slog I finished in 1,082nd place in a time of 59:10. Thanks to anyone who gave me a cheer along the way, didn’t recognise everyone, but maybe our vest is becoming known as well.
Oh well, I’ve just read a report stating it was “a course that many runners called the muddiest they had ever experienced”. Maybe “Never again” was just obiter dicta, soon to be forgotten and not to be taken seriously. Where are the nationals next year? Pass me my diary.
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