Is that you, Adi?"It's Nowton Park, just before ten and it is a bit chilly. I don't have a bike with me. I'm going to be running. I've been doing this on my own for years, on and off. Always off-road as far as is possible. Now that we have a group of runners within the club who, from the photographs I've seen appear to be enjoying competitive cross-country events I thought to myself "why not have a go?"
I contacted Adi Barbrooke who was, of course, very supportive. Suggested that I should try doing two laps of my regular 5k route. Chest infection delayed the start of my programme, but, post christmas I was back and pounding across the fields around Norton - and even doing the occasional double lap.
So here I am on the 22nd of January, feeling rather like a labrador in a whippet race. Adi had his campervan set-up as an HQ, complete with a Wheelers and Tri banner and was handing out loan vests and reassurances to any who in need of either or both. Very friendly atmosphere - almost felt like an evangelical meeting, at times (how would I know that?). I lend my little Ixus camera to Nathan, with the instruction to "take lots of pictures, please"
"Right" said Adi "let's do a bit of a warm-up, eh?"
And right away I knew I was in trouble. If I'm going into the red just to keep up while everyone else is chatting, and it's only supposed to be warming up pace, I just might be in the wrong place. Remembering the stress of pre-road race (cycling) nerves, I comforted myself that this couldn't be as bad as that. Could it? Well not quite, the other competitors didn't look as terrifying and the likelihood of a crash was probably lower. But the dry mouth was there, and the heart was getting a bit excited as we stood around at the start. Loud hoot! We're off! Feels fine, I'm getting into a rhythm. It's not quite the same rhythm as the others, though.
A steady stream of runners overtake me - but only gradually. It's as if they're on a parallel conveyor belt that's set half a mile an hour faster than mine. By half way round lap one I'm only being passed every couple of hundred metres or so and occasional twists and turns of the course give me a view behind, and I'm reassured to see several runners behind me. Some of them stay that way, too. I cope with an attempted sabotage when a guy who might be even older than me threw himself to the ground as soon as he'd overtaken me (pretended to trip on a tree-root, but I wasn't convinced) yellow card at least, I thought to myself.
Eventually, close to the end of lap one, I was caught by Stuart Smith - also about my age (but I convince myself he must much younger) and, as we were entering a headwind section I moved up and ran on his shoulder. We chatted (yes, I could actually speak comfortably - definitely not racing then) amiably and he pointed out where the course went to the finish. Eventually he was doing what we cyclists know as half-wheeling, so I prudently dropped back saying that I'd better stay at my own pace. Someone who had passed me a while back pulled up with a calf problem. Tempting, I thought. "I was going so well, and then my calf/knee/thigh/brain packed up" but then I remind myself that I am made of sterner stuff.
Second lap, I know where it finishes, and I only have about 5k to go (the actual distance doesn't seem to be considered important in these events; an odd concept for a cyclist). No one has passed me for ages, but two blokes are moving within earshot. One of them sounds as if he will die before the finish. I put in a bit more effort - esp on inclines and in the headwind section, to keep ahead of the awful noise. I was gaining on my NBF Stuart, but when we talked after the 'race' he told me that he'd seen my approach and put in an extra burst to stay ahead. Welcome presence of Richard Seggar waving and shouting encouragement (well I think that's what it was) . I enter the quagmire that is the approach to the finish with what I kid myself might pass for a sprint, taking care not to end up face-first in the mud, and collect my plastic token. Warm welcome from those Wheelers with the patience to wait for my arrival, and great feeling of personal achievement - plus pain, of course.
I was 228th in 57:48, and 4th in the 65-69 age group. Stuart is in 50-54 (hah!) and just 12 secs faster. Nathan took a lot of pics - but none of me actually running. I know, I should've been more specific, shouldn't I?
All that was three weeks ago, and my right knee still hasn't recovered, though it's on the way. I will reluctantly have to give up my promising XC career - and go back to my solitary circuits. Very reluctantly I have reached the conclusion that the difference in effort when in a group is the difference between running to keep me fit and running to make me crippled. Pity.
I contacted Adi Barbrooke who was, of course, very supportive. Suggested that I should try doing two laps of my regular 5k route. Chest infection delayed the start of my programme, but, post christmas I was back and pounding across the fields around Norton - and even doing the occasional double lap.
So here I am on the 22nd of January, feeling rather like a labrador in a whippet race. Adi had his campervan set-up as an HQ, complete with a Wheelers and Tri banner and was handing out loan vests and reassurances to any who in need of either or both. Very friendly atmosphere - almost felt like an evangelical meeting, at times (how would I know that?). I lend my little Ixus camera to Nathan, with the instruction to "take lots of pictures, please"
"Right" said Adi "let's do a bit of a warm-up, eh?"
And right away I knew I was in trouble. If I'm going into the red just to keep up while everyone else is chatting, and it's only supposed to be warming up pace, I just might be in the wrong place. Remembering the stress of pre-road race (cycling) nerves, I comforted myself that this couldn't be as bad as that. Could it? Well not quite, the other competitors didn't look as terrifying and the likelihood of a crash was probably lower. But the dry mouth was there, and the heart was getting a bit excited as we stood around at the start. Loud hoot! We're off! Feels fine, I'm getting into a rhythm. It's not quite the same rhythm as the others, though.
A steady stream of runners overtake me - but only gradually. It's as if they're on a parallel conveyor belt that's set half a mile an hour faster than mine. By half way round lap one I'm only being passed every couple of hundred metres or so and occasional twists and turns of the course give me a view behind, and I'm reassured to see several runners behind me. Some of them stay that way, too. I cope with an attempted sabotage when a guy who might be even older than me threw himself to the ground as soon as he'd overtaken me (pretended to trip on a tree-root, but I wasn't convinced) yellow card at least, I thought to myself.
Eventually, close to the end of lap one, I was caught by Stuart Smith - also about my age (but I convince myself he must much younger) and, as we were entering a headwind section I moved up and ran on his shoulder. We chatted (yes, I could actually speak comfortably - definitely not racing then) amiably and he pointed out where the course went to the finish. Eventually he was doing what we cyclists know as half-wheeling, so I prudently dropped back saying that I'd better stay at my own pace. Someone who had passed me a while back pulled up with a calf problem. Tempting, I thought. "I was going so well, and then my calf/knee/thigh/brain packed up" but then I remind myself that I am made of sterner stuff.
Second lap, I know where it finishes, and I only have about 5k to go (the actual distance doesn't seem to be considered important in these events; an odd concept for a cyclist). No one has passed me for ages, but two blokes are moving within earshot. One of them sounds as if he will die before the finish. I put in a bit more effort - esp on inclines and in the headwind section, to keep ahead of the awful noise. I was gaining on my NBF Stuart, but when we talked after the 'race' he told me that he'd seen my approach and put in an extra burst to stay ahead. Welcome presence of Richard Seggar waving and shouting encouragement (well I think that's what it was) . I enter the quagmire that is the approach to the finish with what I kid myself might pass for a sprint, taking care not to end up face-first in the mud, and collect my plastic token. Warm welcome from those Wheelers with the patience to wait for my arrival, and great feeling of personal achievement - plus pain, of course.
I was 228th in 57:48, and 4th in the 65-69 age group. Stuart is in 50-54 (hah!) and just 12 secs faster. Nathan took a lot of pics - but none of me actually running. I know, I should've been more specific, shouldn't I?
All that was three weeks ago, and my right knee still hasn't recovered, though it's on the way. I will reluctantly have to give up my promising XC career - and go back to my solitary circuits. Very reluctantly I have reached the conclusion that the difference in effort when in a group is the difference between running to keep me fit and running to make me crippled. Pity.
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