Anyone with any sense stayed at home. That didn't include Kenny and I, amongst others. The day dawned furious and foul with wind and rain, and more or less stayed that way. The only saving grace being that it wasn't (quite) freezing cold too.
There were other equally foolhardy souls swelling the ranks too. Both Kenny's son and my laddie had decided to brave the elements and have a turn in the Junior race. Did I feel guilty in egging them on? Increasingly so as their start time drew closer! The weather was at one of its dirtiest spells during the day as they legged it away from the start line. My son's face was set in a mixture of grim determination and, "I'll get you for this Dad!" Kenny and I weren't their only cheerleaders though because Kenny's wife Sue and my daughter and even my mum were out to watch too. Although it's always great to get support I have to confess to being even more amazed at those who are prepared to stand around the outskirts of muddy fields and applaude than by those who run through those same muddy fields. Three Cheers for the spectators!
And it was muddy. Oh yes! As the juniors slopped their way around the testing course I followed to (try and) warm up and began to think, "What have we let them in for! Jeez! These are wee laddies, they could drown in this!" But... they went the distance and, I think, came away with some of that strange glow of achievement and satisfaction that keeps us all returning to the seeming craziness of the XC fray.
The Seniors were off without delay at Noon. Rain held off for the duration of the race, a freak pause in the precipitation. The mud was still there though and it wasn't good to run too close behind the person in front during the first mile! I'm a fan of the course at Lauder. There's a pretty stiff climb after the first half mile taking the field out to some nice open country for a while and then back via a valley floor, criss-crossing the stream that runs along it. In the last third of the course is a shorter and steeper hill to climb, which had been turned into a good approximation of a mudslide by the passage of the junior race earler, and almost at the finish a couple of hundred yards along a track which had actually become a minor stream in itself. Absolutely no chance to navigate a better path, it was just a case of plough on through!
I had a good race. Managed to keep the brakes on in the first half-mile whereas quite a big group seemed to go out very quickly. Saved my effort for when the first hill began and was rewarded by being able to slowly pick off places for most of the rest of the way whilst feeling not too bad. I elected to vault a couple of gates rather than go through the wickets toward the end of the course, always risky but I think it makes for less of a break in rhythm, and that seemed to work in my favour too. One good tussle developed with the chap who eventually pipped me to 5th place overall! We'd traded places a couple of times over the last half mile and the way he ran up the mudslide hill had suggested to me that he was still going strong but might have used up just a bit much. I'd gained a neck sploshing down the track/stream but he still had that bit extra to outsprint me in the home stretch. 6th place it was, 1st Vet40.
Kenny didn't get outsprinted to the finish though. Far from it. I turned tail when I crossed the line to trot back a bit and watch him come in, which he did before very long- just trailing a group of 4 in front which he proceeded to demolish in the last 200m with a fantastic finish. Sterling stuff.
The bottom line is that everyone who turned out on such an atrocious day, competitors and spectators alike, deserves either a round of applause or a stretch in an institution, but I'm not sure which!
