I wish... I was a cross country runner (part 5)

Don't miss out on nature's beauty because you're squeamish about mud.

At the beginning of the month I set myself a goal of ten cross country runs. I picked ten out of the air because it's a nice round number. Five seemed too few, and twenty too many. There are only twenty-eight days in February after all (this year anyway).

With one week of February left, I had seven more runs to do. It wasn't impossible, but it wasn't realistic either.

Run number four was a Sunday afternoon jog through Hempstead Woods. It was good, but I decided I would try a morning run next time, and I would go somewhere different.

So I chose Views Wood for run number five on Tuesday morning. It was brilliant! Relatively big with a variety of paths. I dropped down onto one beside a stream and leapt over smaller streams feeding into it. It was so much fun that I forgot to take any photos.

The downside of running in the morning was that my legs felt stiff and achy. I wondered whether I was doing myself an injury. Also, it was a considerable chunk of time out of my morning, which meant I started work much later than I would have liked.

I did the opposite on Wednesday for run number six; a late evening jog around Hempstead park and a secondary school playing field. My legs felt OK but I was worried about breaking them by tripping over tree roots, molehills or teenagers snogging in the dark.

So for run number seven I stepped out in the morning light for a jaunt through Buxted Park.

There wasn't much morning light. A low heavy cloud hung over the countryside, and a steady drizzle soaked me to the skin. It had been raining all night and the muddy paths had become quagmires in which my running trainers were completely enveloped.

I had high hopes of fitting in three more runs to reach my target of ten. But it didn't happen. I went to Brighton yesterday, had a late night, and couldn't face another rain-drenched boggy run today. 

I'm not disappointed though. Seven cross country runs is respectable. Four runs in one week is astounding - for me. That would have been unheard of at the beginning of the month.

More importantly, I have got back into the habit of going for a run. I've moved my running shorts and shirts to the top of the pile, and my trainers are by the front door. More than that though, I have decided to build a cross country run into my weekly routine...

Every Thursday afternoon I will go for a cross country run. Before dinner. When my legs are warmed up and the day's work is done.

I'll leave you with 3 things that I have learnt from cross country running this month:

1. It's OK to get muddy. Mud is natural. Being muddy makes you feel closer to nature.
2. Running through woods feels primal. It's what our ancestors did to hunt wild animals, or avoid getting eaten by one.
3. The more time you spend in the countryside, the more beauty you see in it. And during the winter you have these special places to yourself. Don't miss out because you're squeamish about mud.

Tomorrow is the start of a brand new month. What do you wish you could do in March?

I wish... I was a cross country runner (part 4)

Keep going. Whatever the weather.

Last Sunday I said I would put an appointment in my diary to go for another run. Monday was out; work and then a social event. Tuesday too; work and then Dad-sitting. So it would have to be Wednesday.

I got home from work on Wednesday and resisted the urge to make a cup of tea and eat a biscuit and have a sit down.

No! I shall not sit down and get comfortable! I shall change into a tiny pair of shorts and a T-shirt and get distinctly uncomfortable.

The first five minutes were the hardest. I ran up and out of the estate, down a lane towards the old mill, and ran alongside the River Uck. The path was deliciously muddy.

I stopped on a small wooden bridge and stretched my legs. I always stretch once I've warmed up. I don't want to pull a muscle. Injury sets you back so much, in terms of time and enthusiasm.

I set off again and entered Buxted Park, one of my favourite places in the world. I have been going there since I was a child. Exploring. Thinking. Escaping. 

I ran around one of the lakes, crossed the river again (using a bridge, not wading through it like The Eliminator - although I am tempted now) and strode towards my tree.

My tree.

OK, it's not really my tree. Not legally. It probably belongs to Buxted Park Hotel, which stands on the hill overlooking it. But it feels like mine. I always deviate from the path to say hello to the tree and touch its bark. We hang out for a bit. Have a chat. Admire the view. Then I say goodbye and continue on my way. Until next time.

The sun had dipped beyond the horizon so I headed for home and picked up the pace. It got hard. It was the first time I'd really pushed myself since The Eliminator, and I felt a bit dizzy after finishing with a sprint. I sat on the step outside my front door to get my breath back.

Sitting outside the front of my house is not something I usually do. But I quite like it. Watching the world go by. Saying hello to neighbours. It's a shame we don't have a front porch culture in this country.

Anyway. I digress. 

I didn't fit in any more runs last week.  I mostly worked at Barnardo's (full-time during half term). Then the rains came.

Excuses? Perhaps. But this coming week will be different...

This week I will go for 7 cross country runs in 6 days! Whatever the weather.

It will be March soon. Start thinking about what you wish you could do next month.

I wish... I was a cross country runner (part 3)

Put an appointment in your calendar to do the thing you wish you could do.

"I can't wait to go running again" were my exact words after The Eliminator Race last weekend. I envisioned pulling on my running trainers on Monday evening and leaping into the woods near my house.

On Monday my trainers were still drying out (I had washed them on Sunday).

On Tuesday they were nearly dry.

On Wednesday there were dry at last (hooray) but didn't have laces in them (boo). I tried to thread the laces back into the trainers but the ends were frayed and I couldn't do it, so I threw the laces away. I borrowed some from an old pair of shoes. The new laces were fat and brown and horrible but they were going to get muddy anyway. By the time I had done all this, of course, I couldn't go for a run because it was time to drive to work.

On Thursday I forgot to run in the morning and I couldn't be bothered to get sweaty and muddy again after my shower.

On Friday I started work late and finished work late and decided it was too late to go for a run.

Then it was the weekend again.

Six days. No cross country runs. Poor. Very poor. At that rate I wouldn't achieve my goal of running ten times in February.

So on Saturday I went for a run. Straight after work. I put on my clean white running trainers with the pooey brown laces and I ran into the woods. And I slipped around in the woods. And I stopped running in the woods because I couldn't breathe properly. And I ran nervously past spiky slivers of tree trunk in the woods in case I fell and impaled myself on them.

It wasn't as much fun as The Eliminator Race. There was less screaming and laughing for a start. Nobody made appreciative noises when I nearly slipped over but recovered my footing. And nobody wrapped tin foil around me and fed me cupcakes when I finished. 

I know. Unbelievable.

But it was fun in a different way. The countryside looked beautiful in the winter sunshine, a huge wild rabbit barely moved as I ran past it, and I got the same buzz from skipping over puddles and rocks as I did last weekend. Overcoming obstacles. Dashing between the trees. Breathing in the fresh air. It felt good.

It would feel even better if cross country running was a regular habit in my life; something that I do a few times a week without hesitation. 

What do you wish you could do that you keep putting off? Put an appointment in your calendar to do it.

I wish... I was a cross country runner (part 2)

We heard the screams before we saw the horror.

"Why are they screaming?" asked Jen.

"Somebody's throwing chocolate at them," I joked.

We were in the first mile of The Eliminator Race, a cross-country run designed to test entrants with thick mud, deep water and gruelling uphill scrambles. It didn't disappoint.

The screaming was from dozens of runners wading chest-high through a pond of dirty brown water with logs floating in it. It was excruciatingly cold, and I overtook a few runners to get to the other side as quickly as I could. It was so deep that Fran and Lizzi swam.

Up until that point we had been tiptoeing our way through the mud. Not any more. The gloves were off. I was wringing water out of mine and cursing that the tissues I had stuffed inside them were sodden. 

The terrain was incredible. We trudged along tracks shin-high in gloopy mud. We slid into rivers and hauled ourselves out the other side. At one point we scrambled up a muddy bank so slippery that I used tree roots like rock-climbing handholds and another runner pulled me up using a fallen branch.

It was a proper adventure. I loved it.

Photograph courtesy of Michaela Coatsworth

My teammates were awesome. Lizzi, who hates mud and stepped tentatively through it at the start, grew in confidence with every mile and got faster and faster. Stuart, whose chest was tight with asthma, showed real grit and determination by pushing on without complaint. I marvelled at Fran who gashed her leg in a water obstacle but chirped, "I'm fine", and carried on running. And Jen steadily picked up the pace and stormed up a hill. It was great to see.

Despite the intense cold and effort, we had fun. We joked around, sang songs and bundled each other into the mud. I felt closer to them as friends. It was, at the risk of sounding cheesy, a quality bonding experience. I recommend it to anyone.

In the final few hundred metres I splashed mud in my eye and blinked furiously through the last two ponds.

Photograph courtesy of Michaela Coatsworth

After which we regrouped and ran across the finishing line together. Team Sunrise!

Photograph courtesy of Michaela Coatsworth

We made it!

Our support crew - Andrew, Michaela, Fergus and Fran's Mum - congratulated us and took photos. Then we collected our medals and T-shirts, wrapped ourselves in foil like marathon runners, and munched on Michaela's delicious chocolate orange cupcakes. I could have eaten the whole tub.

It was over. We could relax. If only we weren't so wet and cold!

We dispersed to get changed. I stood on one side of Fran's car and pulled on boxer shorts under a towel with hands so cold they barely worked. It was awful. How I didn't drop the towel and cause more screaming, I don't know. 

Dry once more, Fran and I bundled into the car with Stu and Lizzi and we turned the heaters up to max. The thaw began...

Our next challenge is to collect the sponsorship money that has been pledged by friends and family, and pass it on to the Barnardo's Sunrise Centre. If you sponsored us, thank you! On behalf of the children and young people and their families who use Sunrise projects, thank you thank you thank you!

Do you wish you were a cross country runner? Or even a hard surface runner? What's stopping you?

I wish... I was a cross country runner.

I need to get back in the habit of going for a run.

I don't run very often. Occasionally to catch a train. Sometimes to catch a young person with special needs when we're playing chase. Now and then, after a few beers, I'll do a Usain Bolt and sprint home from the pub.

Last April I started going to Park Run at Clair Park in Haywards Heath with my best friend Anthony and his Dad, Steve. I went twice. Here's a photo of me overtaking a Dutchman.

It was fantastic. But I haven't been back. Not entirely my fault; I have a job that requires me to work most Saturdays.

I got into cycling instead. Which is great, and it kept me fit (until winter set in), but there's something about running that I miss: the freedom of going wherever I like, and being able to switch between the street and off-road. So much more interesting to leap over puddles and dodge rocks than pound tarmac.

I used to be a cross country runner. It started in secondary school when cross country meant four laps of the school fields. Anthony and I would train on the school grounds at the weekend. Talk about competitive! He would always finish in the top 10 and I'd finish in the top 20. 

I carried on running, or jogging at least, into my early twenties. Then adult life got in the way and I had less time and I moved to a city and excuses excuses excuses... The usual.

Fast forward twenty years (crikey) and this month I wish... I was a cross country runner.

I must confess though - I have ulterior motives...

Number 1: I am taking part in The Eliminator race on Saturday to raise money for the Barnardo's Sunrise Project in Kent, so I'm going to be a cross country runner whether I like it or not. Probably not. Not only is it off-road, it's also off-the-scale in terms of mud, water and freezing temperatures.

Number 2: I want to be fitter. I've hardly done any exercise over the winter, except walking a bit and lifting pies to my face, so I feel out of shape.

Number 3: I already love walking in the countryside, so why not run in it too. I get a boost from fresh air and views and the rawness of nature.

Number 4: I'm in good company. Virtually all of Anthony's family run. So does my sister Rachel and brother-in-law Terry. And my friend Michi has just resumed marathon running after years away from the sport. It would be nice to occasionally run with people I care about.

By the end of February I will go on 10 cross country runs. It doesn't matter whether they are long or short or muddy or dry - as long as I get back in the habit of going out for a run.

What do you wish you could do this month? Tell me, and get started today.