"...and some of it's runnable!" said Andy, as Matt and I arrived for the Cheshire Champs XC. "Runnable"... what's that, some of it's runnable? Was he being helpful, genuinely informative, ironic or just taking the piss? Andy is club team Captain, one of the big boys, a group 1'er. Matt and I are not. We are the underlings. After the race, the big boys gathered and announced they were going to do an extra warm down lap. We looked at each other, our faces full of cake as we struggled to even bend down to get our shoes off.
"And that's the line drawn right there", I spluttered..."them and us". We laughed, but carried on eating cake! By its very nature, I wonder why I struggle with describing a 'race' that is 'cross country' as anything other than bloody hard and exceptionally muddy. But it's always a bit of a shock just how hard and muddy it really was. Still, I took some strength from my earlier parkrun duty. I was tail runner on Saturday morning and watched from a respectable distance as a daughter gently encouraged her mum out on her first ever run.
My word, she didn't enjoy it, but was so chuffed to have finished. And that's the way, isn't it? You always feel better after a run. It was another race this morning, in the park behind where I work, it seems. Hit the Trail was a gritty 5 miler, run with friends, 400 in total. It was a mighty fine finishers gift, a beautifully presented Jaffa Cake on a slate platter. For a cold, dank, grey and thoroughly miserable weekend, when most sensible people choose to remain in, I've been out and had a very agreeable and quite runnable couple of days.
