3rd Nov. Lauder.
What was I thinking? Actually I was fondly remembering doing these cross country races years ago and enjoying them. They are quite bold courses often crossing fences, gates or streams and usually involving a fair amount of mud. They are organised by some of the Borders running clubs and Dunbar RC. And really well organised. The kids race as well and although shorter courses no less serious racing goes on there. So I suggested to Mary we sign up for this series. She has been enjoying an injury free fitness unknown during the last 3 years or more. So (without too much overthinking it) we signed up and went along. Big thanks to Steve for giving us a lift as we had got shot of the Berlingo by then.
We arrived in plenty time for a long warm up and look at the course. Steve had cannily realised there could be hundreds of cars looking to get parked near the school in Lauder and got us underway in loads of time. We heard from others who did the course last year, that the route was similar but slightly changed to that of a decade ago. Once round the playing field before a smaller amount of duckboards then up the hill on the left for a way before descending down into the valley, across a stream and up the hill on the other side. A bit more over there before heading back down into the valley before climbing up to a nasty stoney lane, then a length of the playing field to the finish line. We looked at the second half of the course while the junior race took place.
As the race approached I was beginning to regret my decision. Among many familiar faces, I bumped into Dick Wall (HBT) who like myself had retired from competitive running but was back again anyway. I said I was nervous and he said likewise. We made our way to the start and after a short while we set off. The lap of the field was fine: I didn't push to get forward and saw a few decent runners around me. After a descent to the duckboards we then turned right and the hill began. This is where I headed backwards through the field. All the decent runners disappeared ahead while I struggled up the long gradual slope. The hill levelled off and there was some okay running before the descent to the valley. It was muddy and I was glad to be wearing hill shoes for the first time in years.
Ten years ago the course travelled back towards the playing field jumping over the stream in several places. This year we had to cross the stream - a few yards wide and maybe shin deep. I didn't race through as that seemed pointless given how you'd just get wetter kicking up water. As I crossed it one arm went out for balance and lightly struck a young female competitor on the shoulder or face. I apologised but she was more concerned about running across the river as quickly as possible. Once across, the trail rose steeply and I found the next quarter of a mile climb the worst part of the day. I tried to run but ended up walking. Doing maybe 30 walking paces before another 30 running alternating until the top. I had intended picking up the pace towards the plateau-ing summit but found I was wheezing and struggling to maintain any kind of pace. I could see a LOT of runners ahead and recognised I was now in a very different part of the field that I used to be when I was a youngster in my fifties. I also found I could neither do anything about it and also that I didn't really give much of a hoot about it. It was undeniably where I was and there was no sugar-coating it.
I tried to keep pushing hard while not going into any kind of cardiac incident. I knew the route would stay flat for a bit before a delightful descent towards the finish. The flat bit went on for longer than I would have chosen but I nearly recovered enough equilibrium to say thanks to the martials out on a windy hill in November just so that we could have fun. I suprisingly found I was having fun, especially as the course now gave us a long gradual slope downwards (my preferred angle) on short grass and we could bomb downhill at top speed. I had hoped to fly past a few of those around me. Maybe one or 2 but most were keeping up just fine and I was still feeling okay when we got through the gate and into the last quarter mile. I noticed that instead of heading towards the stony lane we were going right to the bottom of the valley which would of course mean a last climb back up to the stony lane. I cursed the route setters. However having got my breath back from all that descending I found I didn't drop any significant places on the last climb, and used the proximity to the end as reason to keep going.
I also used Carnethy Gordon as inspiration. I was expecting him to come past all race. We had chatted before setting off and he was superkeen, having done a personal best at Vogrie parkrun the day before. (It hadn't occured that I might do a parkrun the day before the xc.) Now there was a fair chance he was already ahead but just in case he wasn't but was chasing me down in the closing stages I reckoned I best push on! There was a sharp corner and I took the chance to have a quite peek behind to see if there was any sign of Gordon in the small crowd just over my shoulder. I couldn't see a red vest although there were several that may be in my age group so I kept the heart rate superhigh. Very glad to get the last climb done and into the stony lane which was unpleasant enough to have stayed in my memory since we had last done this event a decade earlier. I stumbled my way over the slippy rocks and glad to get them behind me tried to get some inertia up for the last length of the playing field. I felt I was sprinting as fast as I could but suspect from any distance it looked like an old spent guy hobbling towards the line. As far as I can remember nobody went past but there was also the realisation that it wouldn't matter, I'd be so far down the field that I wasn't going to be in contention in the age groups. (I was 6th in my category.)
I was very glad to have survived and not come last. I was a bit disappointed I wasn't in better form but that was no surprise. Racing is a brutal realism that doesn't pull its punches and if you are going shite it will be underlined in a heartless manner for all to see. You just have to understand that nobody really cares and suck it up. There were moments during the course I really enjoyed it, as well as moments I absolutely did not. The second long ascent was not fun and I just felt old and past it. Young girls and old men were overtaking and there was nothing I could do. Tough shit. Dig in and maybe train more fatso.
However it was a joy to catch up with folk I hadn't seen in ages, runners I used to see all the time. Some had kept the fitness going, others like myself had let go the reins during lockdown and were not the racing machines they once were. I was surprised to read the results later and see how many decent runners actually came in behind me. It didn't make me feel less apprehensive about the rest of the series but it was eyeopening.
Mary seemed to have a pretty decent run
It is the camaraderie that is the thing to celebrate. Everyone with red cheeks and breathing hard as they shake hands. People changing out of muddy hill shoes and cheering each other over the line in matching club vests. Smiles and photos taken. With a bit of luck and a bit more training, I will hopefully enjoy some of the rest of the season, and maybe do slightly better on the less hilly courses.
a few of the Porties who ran today
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