Marathon Countdown #1

With just eight weeks to go until the Virgin London Marathon, the countdown is well and truly on. And as this intrepid blogger has the ‘pleasure’ of having a place to run in the prestigious event, I’d thought I would share my experiences in the build up to competing in one of the most gruelling events in sport. But all of that seems a world away. First thing’s first, there’s a cross-country season to finish…

When it comes to road-runners, there are many different types. There are those that just want to get fit, those that want to compete and those that get some kind of sadistic enjoyment out of running over 100 miles a week without fail. Yep, we are hard group to classify!

Cross-country runners are a lot easier to define however, and that is very simply by the definition of the word MAD!

One thing I say from the outset is that I hate cross-country running. The thought of running round a boggy field in the middle of winter for large periods of a Saturday afternoon is hardly appealing to the most hardened of souls, let alone for this keen runner. Add to this the thrilling prospect of running flat out for distances up to ten miles (and thus spend most of the race knocking on death’s door), finishing covered in mud and then having the pleasure of spending an hour in the kitchen cleaning your indistinguishable footwear; I think you start to see where my contempt originates.

But for all the horrible memories that cross-country brings, I’m willing to put all that aside for one of the most unique sporting events in the UK; the English National Cross-Country Championships.

This past weekend, I made the five-hour trip to Leeds in order to compete in this prestigious race for the first time.

Not only would I be up against some 1,300 of the best athletes the country has to offer, but it would also be a gruelling test of strength ahead of a certain marathon, which is ever fast approaching.

And although I’ve never before been in so much pain during a race in my life (and that’s saying something having been doing this for seven years), I didn’t regret a single minute.

What’s truly exclusive is that this race is open to everyone in the UK who is a member of a club, meaning that you could potentially be standing next to Olympians on the start-line. In what other sport is that possible? It would be like lining up against Dwain Chambers in a 100m race or a recreational tennis player being entered into Wimbledon qualifying. Not at the National though, everyone can compete and everyone is on an even playing field.

The atmosphere is another vivid memory I’ll take from this race, as it’s quite unique and different from any other local competition you’ll likely enter. Used to fields of less than 100 and running most of the race by myself, this is a race that couldn’t be more different. Imagine my shock when for the first mile of this 7.5 mile race, I couldn’t hear myself think, due to the sheer volume of the crowds who were cheering us on. It’s the running equivalent of playing at Wembley, except this venue has rather more hills!

And speaking of hills, they normally come in abundance wherever the event is held in England. If you don’t believe me, take a look at these beauties. They wouldn’t be out of place in Vancouver for the downhill skiers. This is what a true test of strength is all about, not the pansy international courses which are dead flat and have the odd log the way in an attempt to make a good marketable product. Think I’m exaggerating? Watch the Worlds at the end of March to see what I mean.

So the course is tough, the conditions are tough and the field is most definitely the toughest you’ll find anywhere throughout the season. If you slip you’ll lose five places immediately. If you go through a bad spell, that’s another ten. If your shoe falls off (and I saw it happen due to the sheer severity of the mud) then you’ll be at the back of the field in the blink of an eye. You’ve got to be right on top of your game no matter where you are positioned.

With all this being said, you will no doubt want to know where I finished. The answer? 1159th out of the field of 1300+. It might not look much on paper, but my word, it’s still probably one of my best races ever due to just how difficult the race was. That and I don’t like cross-country of course.

But as I crossed the line, on the verge of collapsing and dripping in mud (if it sounds horrible, it’s because it was), a smile couldn’t help but protrude through the permanent grimace my face had become for the last hour. If I can finish this I thought, I definitely can finish the marathon.

Matthew Kiernan