Shoes with spikes. Parts of Lancashire she couldn't pronounce. Mud so thick it pierces your shoes. Emma's take on running cross country.
Do you recall cross-country running from your school days? I do.
The bike shed on the route of my first cross-country 'run' was a cracking location for a quick cigarette. Every P.E lesson from Year 9 onwards clashed with a "clarinet lesson". To my parents' surprise, my kit remained clean right up until my GCSEs. You could say I was a reluctant runner...
Fast forward to my mid-thirties, and I'm signing up to the Harriers' cross-country league. This was in no small part due to the recruitment skills of Dan Bailey, aka Mr Enthusiasm. His reassurance that cross-country was "great fun" was balanced by club chatter from experienced XC'ers. And who can argue with £16 for as many - or as few - races as you like. For several weeks, conversation centred around the mystery Marl Pits - the mere mention of which brought a murmur of dread during one track session. How bad could "that hill" possibly be?
A new world opened up: Shoes with spikes. Parts of Lancashire that I couldn't pronounce. Mud so thick it would pierce your shoes (isn't that right, Nick?)
I was in for a rude awakening. Having bought a pair of spikes, my football fanatic friend had to show me how to attach them. There was the arrival at our first match at Heaton Park in baking 15 degrees sunshine. Cross-country expert, and winner of her V35 age category, Katie Baker, reminded us newbies that sunshine during XC was far from normal. Oh, and to enjoy the downhill start - a superb intro to any race, frankly.
Heaton Park, my first XC, was humbling. There was nausea, legs that weren't prepared for tackling those rolling, grassy hills or running on tarmac in spikes. Then there were the laps - 3.5 of them - that felt progressively worse in the beating sunshine. I had no idea what I was doing, besides throwing myself - arms flailing - up and down various grass verges. But the sight of a smiling David Ashton at the finishing shoot was a boost - ditto knowing the pub would follow this hard work. The YMCA Harriers tent, complete with clean shoes and warm layers, was a welcome beacon post race.
Marl Pits was my second outing. It was a brisk Saturday afternoon in November where terror descended. Hardened Harriers will know this is the course where cross-country club runners are made - or retire - thanking their lucky stars that road races are a thing. Trudging through ankle-deep mud before scaling a near vertical hill - twice! - added theatre, especially for the women's team who got to watch many muddy men throw themselves down said hill to whoops and cheers - and not always getting this bang on.
The benefit of "ladies first" in the cross-country world (let's not talk about the distance) is that you can watch the men's team put in a shift, whilst smugly clutching a hot drink. During these post-race intervals we were treated to sprint finishes from Ben Sara-Kelly, the appearance of the "mud man" of Marl Pits who emerged showing roughly 5% of clean skin and a post-baby Caitlin comeback from Rowena at Woodbank park. A special mention goes to Sam Gilmore, who volunteered to drive a handful of Harriers to this race, nearly sacrificing his wing mirror in a bid to whisk Josie and me to the start line.
Cross-country races aren't for fancy gear or for the faint of heart - unless you have a very forgiving washing machine. The rustic, gritty nature of this type of running, combined with the lack of pomp and ceremony, is why I like it. Your ego is left at the top of the same hill that you need to negotiate your way down. Or up in my case. A concerned man with a thick Lancashire accent asked me if I needed some water as I climbed (definitely not ran) up a woodland verge whilst cursing my life choices. But it's the team spirit involved in racing through these conditions, often in beautiful yet challenging surroundings, that was the icing on the cake for me.
Knowing that every race added points to your club team's standing was motivating. Cheering on Harriers as they made it through the finishing chute was uplifting. To my surprise, I was disappointed when adverse weather conditions (remember February?!) called off a cross-country race or two. I loved the post-race camaraderie in the pub, partly because pints taste so much better after a hard effort, and partly because I wanted to see what snacks Tim would bring from home. And speaking of XC veterans, Tim claiming 1st place in the V55 age category across both SELCC and MACLL leagues is an inspiring example for all Harriers for what they can achieve.
A cross-country blog wouldn't be complete without mentioning all the behind-the-scenes efforts that go into making these rustic races a great day out. The tent doesn't appear by magic. Someone has to sort the bibs, find a nearby pub, get runners registered and whip up some serious enthusiasm for winter running. Thanks to the solid recruitment efforts of our men's Captain, nearly half of our club signed up to run in the MACLL last season. There was some seriously good running on display this season, and I can't wait to see what we can achieve in the next.
Having completed four cross-country races, I have unfinished business and a title to defend. I was stunned to come 1st place in the Manchester YMCA Harriers Cross Country Championships - an accolade I share with Mark, who placed first for the men's team. And Kenworthy Woods is still on my to-do list (I've heard great things). I credit my new found enthusiasm for cross-country running to the team spirit that is all part of being a Manchester YMCA Harrier. And I didn't even need a cigarette.
