"That'll give 'em something to talk about" Tony, our club coach who chooses the races of our Summer Series, chuckled as we cascaded down that last descent. Cascaded, yes. Also stumbled, tumbled dropped and fell, other words that sum up the experience of Passing Clouds. Many have described it as the toughest race of the season. Brutal seems to be a favoured word also. It was all of those things, and more. In the main, you rolled with what was dealt and see how you came out at the other end.
Knee high peaty bogs, eroded rock paths, scrambling over boulders, near vertical descents, it was all there...and the weather! When the cloud did periodically clear, your reward was merely a glimpse of those ahead, bright coloured shirts standing out from the mirth zig zagging their way up yet another climb. Only towards the end, with a relatively straight forward cross-field 2 miles back to the finish, all of us feeling like we'd just been spat out of a broken washing machine, did the race reveal any notion of position and intent.
Clearly some had succumbed to the terrain, others had climbed the pecking order, and I was left more or less in position in a straight fight with two others to the finish and some proper running at last. Tony dropped off, then I fought, and lunged past Rob. I peaked a little too early...a man thing, and Rob got me back just before the line. At that stage, to have finished was a bonus, many didn't! FRA regulations applied, so it was a packed bumbag, but with no full length leg coverings, I opted for long socks and long shorts. Not a great look! 