The start of any road race, large or small, doesn't really register on my emotional radar, such as it is. But there's something almost primeval about the start of a Cross Country race. First, the quality of the field is high...you can smell it! But when the gun fires, the actual gun, for it is an actual gun that comes out of a wooden box, there's a feeling of 'going over the top', the charge down the hill, the way the ground resonates beneath your feet. 'Freedom', I hear someone shout! Really. At school, it was 'Charge'.
It wouldn't seem out of place if we were all wearing animal skins, or carrying spears, such is the whiff of testosterone in the air! I am in this photo...just. Behind the clump of trees on the right, keeping to the periphery, out of trouble, more self preservation than outright attack! I sense there'll be little attack in Sundays 'Passing Clouds' fell race. There's a clue in the title. A few days rest and some positive thinking leaves me 'open minded' at best, about what to expect. But there'll be no galloping charge or cry for freedom!
