Cross Country Season Commences

Of all my running, one of the main things that makes me feel like a real runner is cross country. It also is one of the things that gets me more anxious and stressed than really ought to induce joy. And there have been quite a few races where joy has been in short supply, except to watch the chaps go next in deteriorating conditions. 

I will never be 'good' at cross country. It favours light, leggy, slim people who have run from childhood, not overweight 30 somethings who run casually. It is also very humbling; everyone there is a good runner who runs for a club and therefore takes their running relatively seriously.  It is muddy. It is usually cold. It isn't always friendly. Essentially this 'ain't no fun run'.

I do often question why I do it. I have come to the conclusion it is a mixture of FOMO and also the need to apply some pressure to my running. I don't often make myself work like I work at cross country. And as I said, we watch the boys go next on the increasingly muddy course, drink tea and cheer loudly. I like to be one of the girls on the team occassionally. 

Photo by Billy Franks

But as the first match of the season drew close, I felt mega anxious. I actually felt a bit sick as I parked up at the Sheepfoot lane car park of Heaton Park for the first match of the 24/25 season. It is my first season as a Vet35 as I turned 35 a week after my first match last season. To be honest it makes no difference. I had been stressed about parking but found a space without too much bother. Then it was just the walk up through the beautiful autumn cloaked Heaton Park, past the junior races, to the loos and then the gazebo pitching area. Fortunately I was found by a team mate as no gazebo had arrived yet (I was early). I relaxed a bit as I started chatting with the few gathered ladies, most of whom were there from their children being in the junior races. 

I expressed multiple times my reservations about Heaton Park as a season opener. For those that don't know it, it is in the slightly hillier north of Manchester, and used to be the largest municipal park in Europe. It has everything from a golf course, to a petting farm, to a garden centre in, with tree covered areas, grasslands and obviously parkland.It is probably one of the more challenging courses in the calendar (since Boggatt Hole was removed, though Woodbank with its savage hill has returned). It used to come mid season but it then did have some of the thickest mud I have ever seen. I have also been sleeted on, blown away and frozen. So be to removing layers before the start as I was too warm was somewhat a surprise. 

After various catch ups, stripping layers and number pinning, I joined the girls heading to the start line. I was running in shorts and vest, which felt unusual for cross country (I usually need a base layer). I felt a better having chatted to people but still nervous. I had chatted to a few people doing their first event and wished them well. Initially I was stood right at the back but I decided to weave just a little further forward. 

And then the gun went and we were off. 270 ish women surged down the first slope in to the dip. My plan was to keep it steady. This course has broken me before. There was a slight change this year due to some kind of tree work by the garden centre (don't quote me, I didn't read the memo) and instead there was now more tarmac. The loss of this tree section worried me a bit as I often do well in the tree roots. However, my usual option of fell shoes not spike would pay off on the tarmac section. It is a three lapper with roughly three uphills in each, including the savage uphill at the end of each lap where crowd line the route and you feel you can't walk even though you are dying. 

There is a lot of shuffling in the first lap. Lots of people stormed past me, particularly as we entered the Papal Field, on the gradual climb here. 'Let the pack do the work' was my mental motto: there is still a long way to race and I could use people around me to set a steady pace, stay out the wind (I'm a big girl, it makes a difference), and later move up. And as we ducked and dived down in to the trees and up the steep mini slope, I just kept pottering on. I could see about three Chorlton ladies in the distance but didn't think I would catch them. I enjoyed the view over Manchester from next to the pitches before dipping down the tarmac path towards the trees, roots and tumbled out on to the path at the bottom. Then its along a path (or the grass next to it if you are in spikes) before the slog up the long hill lined with spectators to start the second lap. 

 We'd spaced out by the second lap and I just kept the Chorlton girls in view across the Papal field. ' keep plodding steadily, run your own race' I told myself. I went past the amazing Levenshulme runners marshalling the entrance to the trees and got told not to walk by one of the guys in my club as I headed for the pitches. I was actually starting to gain on people. By the end of the lap, there were a few people walking and several blowing really rather hard with over a mile still to go. To be fair, every other race, this has been me. Could I have run this race sensibly!?!? 

As we started the final hill of the lap for the second time, I caught up with the first of the Chorlton ladies ahead of me. I felt bad to over take but just had more as we dropped down the first dip of the final lap. I also knew I had to start to push at some point, but when? Its all well keeping under wraps but you don't want reserves in the tank at the end, nor do you want to go to early. I really couldn't tell which was my body was going to go! In the end I started to push at the football pitches, as there was a much younger lady from Warrington Runners coming up on me, and I wouldn't out run her in a sprint (which it eventually came down to, and I lost). So I pushed it down the concrete went for it. As I popped out on the path I realised I wasn't far off some of the other Chorlton ladies (though too far to catch them) who I would never normally finish near. I put in a push down the concrete and then tried to keep going up that blooming hill. I thought I had a  kick at the end but in reality I just trundled along the flatter finishing tunnel (just behind the young lady from Warrington). 

I was pleased with my time but less pleased with my photos. I look like a hippo. But its nice to know I am a pacier hippo than previously I suppose....I also might now have to retire from cross country as that was the performance of a lifetime from me!  

So what have I learnt and can I pass on for cross country matches?

1) Prepare to be humbled- as I said, this ain't no fun run

2) Don't get dragged along; if you don't think you can hold the pace for 5 miles, you probably can't

3) Know the course. Walk it if you can. Listen to tips if you can't.

4) When the chips are down, and you know you went off too fast, manage what you have left: good at uphills? relax a bit on the flat and push those hills, good at flatter sections? walk the uphills if you must but try make up for it on the flat

5) Fuel timing is everything. The matches are usually lunch time or afternoon and this just makes it complicated. Try find a strategy that works for you. 

6) Don't look at the match photos. Very few people look good in them. (Unless you are skinny, pretty or gifted) 

7) Back of the pack is fine: you are here and most amateur runners are too scared too be

8) Seat covered, plastic bags, wellies for getting too and from, waterproofs and many layers. This sport is not glam. 

Racing for the hell of it: Curbar commotion and Whinlatter canicross

 There is a freedom to not having any big in the diary but it can also rapidly become an apathy to running. So I have sprinkled a couple of events through the winter to try motivate me to keep some fitness up. 

Following my lovely day out at the Peak Raid, I was back in the Peak District on Saturday 5th to run the Curbar Commotion. This is a fab race that takes in the wonderfully dramatic Curbar Edge from the pictureque village of Curbar. The race supports the primary school there, and the combination of teacher and PTA involvement mean it is well run and organised! Kit was minimal whilst we were once again in a bit of mist on the way over, it was expected to clear rapidly, and by the 10am start time, we were all trying to find a bit of direct sunshine to warm our limbs. Martin had come to watch, bringing the dog for a walk to Baslow, but he was grumpy by the start line, which is always a prompt to not daly to much. 

We charged off up the drive past the college, and I was soon puffing. I wanted to give it some beans all the way to the queue for the stile, but found I didn't have enough. I enjoyed the queue then once again struggled up hill through the ginnel and up to the playing field where I had a short walk and got going again. This was not ideal and I was currently last of the three Chorlton Runners in the race. As we entered the woods I found a bit more of a groove and started to enjoy the run through the roots and mud, and the gentle slope as we traversed the escarpment. I knew it kicked up sharply at the end, and met Antonio from Otley (the elderly and sometimes slight liability runner who often sets off early) on this section. Thankfully he let the little line of people I was with through but I lost a few places on this steep section. I felt heavy and a bit of a fraud (the diet has not been good of late). 

We popped out on to the edge and things were suddenly different. It was a beautiful day up here, with sunshine and fluffy white clouds giving way to views of the valley below. We were weaving through walkers and climbers, hopping the puddles on the gritstone edge, and climbing steadily, with steeper tor like sections. I was also acutely aware of a 9 mile run over Kinder in my legs from the Thursday before. But I was plodding along steadily, over taking and being over taken. I tried to relax and enjoy the race a bit more. Ultimately, placement did not matter. At the left turn to White Edge, the path completely changes from well marked to heathery and boggy. My time in the Pennines suddenly came in to its own and I hopped across this section happily whilst other tried to dodge the puddles. I felt a bit better as we turned along the wall and enjoyed the good grassy run down too the dip and up that would take us on to White Edge and the highest point of the race. I actually went up the steps section much quicker than I think I did previously. At the top someone asked if it was all down hill from here... I said not quite.

I felt like I was flying on this down hill section. There was no where else I wanted to be. The path is lined with heather but is not technical. Its mostly down hill and sweeps gently side to side. I was enjoying it but also thinking it was longer than I remembered. But a marshal appeared and directed me to the road crossing. And suddenly is was the white track of doom: its very gently uphill gravel and some people love it and others hate it. I was actually loving it, taking the time to jam a gel in (I probably didn't need it but had only had a banana in the morning). Brian was hating it. He had been ahead of me for the whole race so far and I felt bad to overtake. I assumed he might also get me on the cheeky up hill turn that came from Baslow back to Curbar... 

The descent off Baslow Edge was lovely. There were a few people around but not enough to hold me up as I teetered down the rocky bridleway. A sharp left turn and we were back under trees and dodging roots. A lady caught me up who was absolutely flying on this section; clearly a descent expert! We popped out at the top of Baslow village and turned back up the hill. The first time I did this race, I thought this was cruel. I still do. But I ran a bit and walked a bit to the squeeze stile and then intermittently ran walked as we headed across livestock fields initially on grass path then a more rocky track, undulating as we headed back. Then there was a sharp left turn in to a narrow path surrounded by bracken where things suddenly literally headed down hill and became a little more slippery. It wasn't as bad as I remembered but I still didn't make it look very elegant! 

Then we were running down hill through a grass field, then back up a pickety, and heading back to the road that would take us to the finish. I tried to push it down this last road, using my weight to my advantage for once (heavy things fall faster in my eyes). The last section of tarmac in front of the college felt a slog but I kept up the pressure and finished 6 minutes faster than 2 years ago. Not too bad. I waited for my team mates before heading for cups of tea (no cake, trying to be good) at the school. One of the lovely parts of this race are the kids who are at many of the marshal points; its their school and they are so funny. The community feel for this one is great. The downside is that turn back up the hill at Baslow! And the fact its just over an hour to drive from home.

The next morning, I got up stupidly early and drove to Whinlatter forest for the first Lakeland Paws canicross of the season. Oscar was not amused by a two hour car ride straight out of bed, and there was some doubt as to whether Whinlatter pass was open on the Braithwaite side (it was, but google maps thought otherwise). We arrived with enough time for a short walk before the start (and to get Oscar to do his business before the race!). I had planned to leave Oscar in the car for the briefing as told, but we managed to phaff enough time away that we were only jus theading back from our walk when the briefing started and I had to take him with me. Mercifully he was very quiet but a lot of dogs weren't. It was sort of carnage but hey, they say never work with children or animals. It was the first time for Oscar and I on the Seat How course here but I have been to Whinlatter several times. 

The aim is to start fastest first, so Oscar and I took my coat back to the car then hovered a bit. In the end I suspect we went a bit early but its not like we had many people over take us. 

I dibbed to start and Oscar tried to roar off way. He always does this. Trying to explain pacing to a dog is futile; he has no idea whether we are going 1 mile or 20 miles. With the smell of other dogs on the trail he was desperate to run with the pack (even if the pack were considerably faster than me). 

The first mile or so is on fire track so nice running, except being quite steeply up hill. I must confess there was a bit of walking, and Oscar was not exactly fixed on his task. The routes split quite early so we didn't see lots of people. We just climbed steadily. 

Things get a bit more interesting as you get towards the top and turn right on to a narrower footpath. Single track, this path dodges and ducks between trees and scrub. It undulates, but overall rises, and eventually you top out at Seat How. There were some marshals with a dibber but I was more interested in the view (I am not good at racing). 

And then we started on a rather lovely descent down the single track. Oscar was mostly behaved, not pulling me over, but I did make hard work of this. It was rooty path and occasional slippy rock.  Eventually we were spat back on to a fire track and a minute later another labrador over took us. I was a bit worried as Oscar looked a bit done next to me. Oscar and I both need to work on our fitness....

Soon there was another left and we began to run down another path next to the ghyll. I knew Oscar would want in so I left him off the leash and wasted a minute whilst he had some time in the ghyll. It is after all his race too. Then we continues, down and down, knowing that at some point we would need to head up hill. 

We popped out at another fire track and now we were in an area of the forest I didn't really know. I passed a family of walkers, as well as a 5km runner and her dog (who was on their first canicross and fully over excited at the start!). The track was climbing and my legs felt pretty heavy. We passed over a bridge, then past a tractor. I knew we were in the last mile or so, and I could see the man with the labrador up ahead. They had slowed too, and we were making a bit of ground on them. Then I realised we were climbing the track up to the cottage and the finish line. I could see the odd supporter, dog walker and yet another runner (whom we did pass, we never caught the other lab), and it was a slow push to the finish. Oscar was very much not pulling but running next to me. We had a finish photo taken with the flag. 

Oscar was fairly pooped, and the car park was filling up with other forest users (mostly mountain bikers seemingly). I decided to treat myself to brunch at Lingholm kitchen, which is amazing. I sat looking out at their walled gardens, with a welcome mug of tea and some fab food. Then Oscar and I went for a lovely walk around Derwentwater in the autumn sunshine. A fantastic day out and very worth the early morning to get racing with my best run buddy (well, sort of! he has draw backs). Sadly, I suspect we won't have such good weather for the whole season.