Mugdock in autumn

All russet and gold

Beauty to behold

Or so, I’ve been told.

Standing alongside Andy Clugston, shivering and waiting for the off, the rain was battering down and the trees were being whipped into a frenzy. Ahead of us was 10 miles of who knew what?. Around us, scenting the wind and licking their lips were the runners from hell, ok there were a few others scattered around who like ourselves had bothered to wash that week and were smartly turned out in their wee club vests and of course the usual gaggle of the bewildered at the rear, but for the most part it was the other sort, radical dudes gone bad, split lips, hairy chested with bulging quads and that was just the wimmin, big rangy gals biding their time waiting for the likes of me, with my skinny legs, to get stuck in the mud.  In fact one of the teams was called Extreme Dining.

Bang! And it’s into the danger zone.

The first mile or so rolled bye quite joyfully on hard standing and I was thinking that this turbo stuff was a bit of a lark when disaster struck, I was just telling some chaps to push on through a stone sheep gate when before I knew it I had gone a real one on my right ankle down some greasy boulders at the bottom of sharp incline. This brought me up a touch as you can guess and as Andy sped bye, full of concern, I felt like chucking it. Soldiering on with an ungainly limp the nice path soon degenerated into mud filled ruts, which strangely, in a cool sloshing therapeutic manner, helped to numb my throbbing  ankle.

Next, came a wooden walkway of slimey railway sleepers which we slithered along like Bambi on ice before turning off into what was to be a demanding but very enjoyable forest section. Lots more of the same followed wending through dense pine trees sometimes in the semi-dark, louping over fallen tree trunks and drainage ditches,  our footfall muffled in a thick layer of needles. Great stuff.

Halfway found friendly natives issuing water and encouragement but alas it was only a fleeting respite as round the next corner we faced an unrelenting ascent of grass and mud reducing our pace to a determined steaming slog.

The course setters certainly new their stuff as they balanced the hard sections with those a little easier before again plunging us through yet more clabber toward the X Zone. This was a separately timed section within the race which consisted of a deep goo filled ditch which you had to wade through step after strength sucking step. I foolishly tried a bit of cheating here by sneaking up the side but a quick joust with the broken branches of the closely packed trees sent me back in for the full emersion treatment.

All this climbing had brought us out on to the heathland above the park and with only a couple of miles to go the spongy matt moss a welcome relief for my aching bones. It was an easy down hill from here on, the heavy rain washing away some of the mud and pain, refreshing the spirit.

Let’s hope this becomes a regular on the fixture list as I have already made it a must for next year, it has a real up tempo feel that even a sprained ankle and horrendous weather couldn’t stifle.