Cross country running

“Cross country is a completely different beast. No publicity, everything is driven by the sports clubs who submit teams. Quite tricky to enter as a solo runner. It's multiple laps of a hilly, very muddy field, about 2k. Long distance men (8k) was the last event so about 600 runners had already churned the fields into a swamp. Very happy I wore cross country spikes, trail shoes would have had me slipping about like i was on ice. No goodies, no feed stations. Just on your marks "bang". No scenery just run like hell round the fields. The level of competition is much higher because the clubs send their 8 or 10 best runners. I ran a decent time (for me) and was 46th out of 60. Trails could have up to 500 runners and I'd be in the first 25%. At the finish no goodies, no medal, and just a box of apples. You could help yourself to an apple. No outside tap, we rinsed the mud off ou legs in a big puddle. Cross country is just raw. Put on your spikes, run, and bugger off home, thanks, see you next time. It was really hard and I loved the change.”

“Everything else is a bonus: the good weather, the perfect conditions, the chance to run alongside some of the best runners in England (briefly), and that fleeting sensation of knowing that I am exactly where I want to be, doing exactly what I ought to be doing: running cross-country. Never mind the other runners, there are some cross-country races where your main competitor can be the course itself. Freakishly deep puddles, quagmires of sodden soil, gnarled roots concealed under leaves, logs across the path and patches of sole-sucking claggy mud - not to mention the spiked shoes of the other runners - all present very real hazards. To run a cross-country race is to make thousands of small but vital decisions about foot placement and pace adjustment - how to get past, how to get through, when to push on, when to hang back - and this is central to its effectiveness as an all-round conditioner.”