I took part in a 4.5 mile “fun run” in Oxfordshire this morning. I would like to say I did well, but that would be a bare faced lie.
We left home at about 9 this morning and made our way to a small village called West Hagbourne, near Didcot in Oxfordshire. We had been told the race started at 11am, so arrived in plenty of time and registered - receiving a race number and safety pins.
We were a little disheartened that because W was only walking the route she would not receive a number - and therefore her time would not be recorded. That seemed a little bit mean.
My mother in law and her friend arrived a few minutes later, and soon we were all sat back in our cars (in the warm) awaiting the start of the race. As is typical, W needed the toilet just as the man with the megaphone told everybody to make their way to the start. I think about 250 of us trudged across the field to the highly extravagant banner that must have taken somebody… oooh… 2 minutes to pin up.
I have never taken part in a “fun run” before, and was therefore a bit surprised when (after 100 yards) I came across the first people who couldn’t run any further and were walking. Why would somebody enter a long fun run with no prospect of being able to run it?
Once we left the village behind I discovered something that I hadn’t really thought about when I was asked “do you want to come and take part in this fun run?” - the entire route was cross country. And muddy. 4 miles of single track ruts across muddy fields. Woop-dee-f*cking-doo.
I pretty much gave up after about 3 and a half miles. I had already become incredibly annoyed by being held up by people walking in the middle of the track, causing me to lump my way through the thick mud to get past them, and the I just flat ran out of energy. Running cross country is a very different ball game to running on the road when it’s muddy.
We have a special word for the kind of mud there was today in England - “Claggy”. It was the kind of mud you could glue things together with - the kind that (when it comes into contact with some more mud) sticks to that other mud and goes with it. The kind that makes your shoes weigh twice as much as normal.
So - I walked for a bit, then ran a bit more, then walked a bit, then ran a bit more, and so on until I reached the finish.
After getting to the finish (it took me about 50 minutes) and getting my breath back I realised that my right leg was aching badly. I suddenly got very worried - and there is a story behind why.
Several years ago I took up running as a cheap hobby and a cheap way of getting fit - I trained for the local running race (that I’m supposed to be running in again next week), and almost didn’t finish it. It turns out my joints are far too flexible. It resulted in me straining all the tendons in my lower leg, and being in pain for about a month. I ended up having to wear moulded inserts in my running shoes called “Orthotics” to ease the strain on my legs.
You can therefore understand why I was a bit upset that (a) my leg hurt, and (b) I hadn’t thought about what would happen if the event today was cross-country.
Anyway - I’ve done it now, and if any damage has been done it’s too late. Just to cap it off we stopped at a DIY place on the way home to get some bits and pieces, and after getting out of the car, I tried to scrape my running shoes - and my right knee almost gave way in the middle of the car park.
How come everybody else can go running and I have all this crap to deal with?