Beautiful frosty morning, sunshine, and a clear blue sky. In other words a perfect day to go out for a run or just an average day for a cross-country league (it's been awesome weather every single time I've taken part). After some difficulties finding the event centre last time, I was this time fully prepared with a proper location map and event details (of course the fact that they were this time provided in advance by organizers made it a lot easier). It was the first time the organizers provided even a decent map of the course, helping the mental preparation. In addition I had checked the contours from the Ordnance Survey Map in the internet and sketched them to my printout to visualize the course and its profile in greater detail.
We got there in time to go through the regular routines but then a careful selection of a proper place to leave the bags during the race was laborious (informational notice to all orienteers reading this: British runners don't just dump their stuff carelessly wherever they happen to enter a field or a so called event centre). I pointed out the nearest possible location to start and finish (based on my map) and we went to warm up. We barely had enough time to jog around the whole 3k course, as we needed to stop by a stream and figure out tactics how to cross it. Basically there were three options: 1) go slightly on side and hop from stone to stone, 2) jump over it, or 3) run across it. First alternative was the pleasant one and the one we selected during the warm-up. Your feet stayed dry and you didn't get hurt but you would obviously lose some time. The second option contained some risks (falling over, getting hurt, spraining an ankle etc) but could be advantageous if you succeeded. A few men were testing that option with a 20% failing rate. Hmm... The third option would be safe and fast but quite repulsive. The water below the stream was frozen and the temperature was -1C, so you would probably lose sense in your feet after crossing the stream. And how would it be to run after that? Would it be good because you wouldn't feel the pain or would it be even more painful as you would need to work harder against the cold at the same time?
While we hurried back to change the shoes and leave the jumpers I noticed that they hadn't placed the start on the place marked on the map but in the farmost end of the field. Who would know that a pedant orienteer would turn out and be bothered about such a trifle? But it messed our timetable a little and we nearly missed the start. We just entered the start line still gasping when the signal came and off we went. You hang along those first hundred meters automatically without thinking and that was just enough time to clear your head and focus on your running.
Previously in Baggeridge I learned a new and perhaps more effective tactics to run a race. You don't need to rush off from the start as fast as you can just to reach the wall after 2k and then suffer the rest of the race while lactate fills your veins and makes your running harder and harder the longer you go. This way you will certainly get a first class seat to watch your co-competitors to pass you from both sides at the end of the race - if not earlier. The opposite tactics brought me much better result last time, so I decided to try it again. (By the way it also feels a lot nicer if you can enjoy the running on the first half and take the pain only on the second half).
So that was what I did. I just tried to run as relaxed as possible the first round concentrating mainly on the upcoming stream and a smart way to cross it. On the way there I summed roughly the runners in front of me and it didn't look too good. I ended up somewhere between 35-40, only 20-25 more than last time. "Ok I will just jump over a few of them by the stream and then I will sort out how to pass the rest of them on the second round when picking up the pace". Then suddenly there it was: the feared stream. I see other girls running through it while I try to hit towards a small overhang to make a jump but I'm uncertain about my marks. I'm counting my steps... "Will I make it to the edge with my right foot near enough to make a jump?" Not sure but there is no room for hesitation. Either you jump or you don't. I reach the edge, close my eyes and hope I can fly... I hear people cheering and realize that I made it. I even passed a few girls there. A short moment of joy and satisfaction but the race goes on. A tiny little hill and I realize that the jump I made wasn't free. I had just spent my spare engine on that and I can already feel the lactate in my legs. There's also a strange feeling in the foot I landed on. I didn't hurt it, did I?
We are reaching the half way and start the second lap. I hear a lot of cheering while passing the finish but something is missing. It's the voices of Colin, Jon and the rest of the guys (who were racing elsewhere at the same time). So I just have to take all the cheering I hear as it was meant for me. "It's time to start running" I tell myself as I pass the finish. I catch a few runners but I can see that the gaps in front of me are growing. Of course, everyone is running faster now. Great. My brilliant plan seems doomed, so I settle for keeping my pace and place for a while. On a downhill part I hear someone approaching me. It gives me a boost I needed and I decide to catch a bunch of runners some 50m in front of me. I attack on a climb and catch the last of them. Then down to the river again and I pass a few while they are slowing down. I feel confident and I know I can make another jump without emptying my legs totally. Some applause again after my jump (and my not so smooth landing). I notice that my co-competitors are more tired than I am and I manage to pick up positions one by one. It is great to have some energy left at the end and to be able to sprint into the finish confident that no one would pass me. I'm really happy with my finish but at the same time I feel that I could have given more on the first lap. It's never perfect, is it? Well, at least I am proud of putting myself through the pain and a series of events this winter. I feel that I've learned more about running during the past months than ever before in my career. The first experience was shocking but now I am honestly starting to enjoy it.
