Croccy Double – XC Madness

I’m gathering the cards together from a game that the kids had been playing. A pairing game. Match the animal … to its droppings. It is a universal truth that children of a certain age have a fascination for all things scatological. Just saying the word ‘poo’ out loud sends our nearly two and nearly five-year-old grandsons into fits of giggles.

They had been playing with their second cousins who were visiting and causing merry havoc about our house. And now there is sweet silence as everybody’s gone home.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved having them here, and it was great to see them playing with their nearly three and nearly six-year-old counterparts. And after the obligatory initial reticence, when they sized each other up, they were off. At one point, our Alf declared himself to be a vegetarian like his cousin Wren. A vegetarian who eats chicken nuggets. But still, it showed that they got on.

The reason I’m relishing this quiet now is because, as they arrived around lunchtime, I had just got home with jelly legs after my second cross country race in two days.

Madness indeed.

Even more unusual was that the two races were both at the same place, Croxteth Hall Park, in Liverpool. Alison and I got to the Pensby gazebo just before half nine this morning. Very close to yesterday’s starting area. But because it had been the County Championships, there were a few portaloos handy. Today, for the Sunday league, there were none. Sunday Cross Country life usually requires a visit to the bushes but Alison said she knew of more solid conveniences, so we walked about ten minutes to near the original walled gardens where the café and loos were now situated. The gardens would have grown produce for the ‘big house’, parts of which have stood since 1575. I don’t think there’s so much as a cabbage growing there now, but I didn’t stop to check as those loos were a godsend. We felt we should jog back as time was now getting on; the race was starting at ten and I still had my wellies on. It made for a kind of warm up, certainly more than I managed on the previous day.

I wish I had made more of an effort yesterday, as there were barely a hundred of us women running, possibly because it had been postponed from its original date, to this Saturday. I knew, as a back-of-the-pack runner, that with this small crowd there’d be nowhere to hide. I didn’t quite come last, there were two women behind me. It was almost three but I couldn’t quite get past Naomi on the home straight.

Today, I could feel the tiredness in my legs but at least there were a lot more people running. We got back with a good ten minutes to spare. I even had a chance to catch up with one of my sisters before the race. She runs with a Warrington club, and at a much faster pace than me, so there was no catching up with her during it.

It was a more straightforward route yesterday, and definitely easier on the legs. No oversized ponds to wade through for example (twice), and very little in the way of wooded areas. Which did I prefer? Definitely today’s. Despite the fact that I was slower, partly because I’m just slow, and partly because I’m just not used to many double whammies. I liked the variety of terrain, the gnarly tree routes sticking out in all directions or hiding under the mud. The mounds of grass with creases around them so you have to bound from lump to lump. The occasional perfect path that doesn’t suck you in but lets you fly in your spikes, if the wind is behind you. And the ponds.

         ‘Keep to the left,’ the marshal called, ‘as we’ve lost some people going through the middle’.

Gary’s wife Wendy who had been watching the pond mayhem told me later that as many five runners were floundering in there, all at once.  You can’t get a better route than that!

The cards have all been collected, and surprisingly, considering the chaos of the room, I’ve found that each animal has its requisite poo match and no card has been lost. Impressive. It just goes to show how much attention they were paying to the game.