Race report by Andy:
Sorry folks I got to do the write up again. Should get away with just a brew this time.
Marl pits cross country, the very name strikes dread into the hearts of those who have previously done it. So infamous is it’s reputation, a meagre team of four hardy Lostockers went over the border to Rawtenstall. Karen Taylor , Jenna, Greg Kilshaw and myself found the conditions perfect for a lung-busting leg-mashing mudfest.
Cross country is still twenty years behind the curve, so the ladies run a two lap course separately from the men(and churn the course up for us). I only had a brief glimpse of Jen as she came smiling down the finish straight and missed Karen altogether.
Myself and Greg got ourselves to the start area in plenty of time for the 5 minute warning whistle. No race briefing, just an unannounced starting pistol to set the heart and the race racing. Three laps await so I’m already questioning my sanity as I’m sinking ankle deep on every step around the football pitches and my legs feel like they’ve got bags of cement lashed to them.
For some reason we do a bonus lap of the fields to soften us up before we launch up the first hill and into the first lap proper. Me and Greg are inseparable at this point, no advantage apparent in his shiny new spikes versus my vintage mud claws. We both settle into a rhythm with me gaining on the uphill and his craziness giving him the downhill advantage. We’re briefly held up by someone who seems to be in the wrong race as he’s dithering along a fairly straightforward single-track as if he’s on ice on a cliff edge muttering to himself that this is madness.
There are two significant ups which have the fainter hearted walking, but not me, I’m made of sterner stuff, I plod up them. The significant ups are mirrored by significant downs which have me mincing down very gingerly. Lap one I hear a shout of “coming through”, it’s Greg, who flys past, arms flailing barley managing to stay upright. Karen and Jen, joined by Chris, have set up at the bottom of the hill to cheer us on and get some great photos and vids. It takes me an age to catch Greg back up on the fields but I can see he’s feeling the lack of training miles in his legs. I reel him in, pass him and stay in front for the rest of the race.
Lap two sees the proper runners start to catch us so there’s the added panic of athletes creeping up and flying past. I just beat the front runner to the finish turn off so avoid the embarasment of a double lapping.
At last I’m into Lap three, Greg gives a shout from across the field so I know I’m safe. There’s a 50 metre long shindeep mudbath at the highest point of the route. It’s taken many an unwarey shoe, and it half gets mine at the third attempt. A quick pitstop soon re-shoes me and makes sure I get mud all over my hands as well. Just the downhills to negotiate and I’m back on the fields jockeying for an extra place. The organisers must have gone soft here as the finish is slightly downhill and not too bad underfoot.
I quickly gather myself and just have time to nip back up the finish funnel to cheer Greg on to hold off a last minute challenger.
Scores on the doors; Jenna rocked in at 35:30 to give her 36th/61 and Karen blazed home in 48th with a time of 40:30
54:31 earned me 58th out of 76 with Greg gaining 67th with a time of 57:46.
For the record, my average heart rate of 165 yielded a snail’s pace 11:29/mile, the mud and nearly 900 ft making this quite the challenge. Glad it’s only once a year. Who’s up for it next year?
