Mud and Glory

Two more reasons I run. Well, today there was no Glory. Far from it, in fact. But there was Mud. Miles and miles of Mud. Wet, shoe-sucking mud, sometimes 6 inches deep. It covered the hills. It covered the flats. And after a short time, it covered me, too. In my trainers. No traction, those sneaks. I spent most (okay, ALL) of the race just trying to keep my balance, and I spent most (maybe ALL) of my energy trying not to fall (there's nothing like 'skating' down hill of mud - you should try it).

The Brits idea of a cross-country race was...interesting. Waking to fog as far as the eye can see this morning I wasn't to interested in going. But I'm glad I did. While finishing ten miles in just over an hour and fifty minutes doesn't sound all that good, I was actually pleased. Besides the mud, we were treated with hill after hill after hill AFTER HILL. I'm not talking "come on, gut it out" hills. I'm talking "stumble, ramble, slowly make your way to the top while sucking in air" hills. These things were huge. Let's put it this way: one was so big and so steep that EVERYBODY walked it. Everybody. That's a big hill for 400 people to all walk it.

But at the tops of some of these hills I was treated to views that made me long for my camera. Mist-covered valleys with patches of green hilltops poking out. Rambling palacial estates. Beautifully shaped trees. And perfectly friendly sheep. It was well worth the climbs.

After the finish I indulged in one of the most delicious bacon and egg sandwiches this side of the Pond and beyond. Remember, and this counts as your British lesson for the day, that bacon over here is more like our salted ham over there: thick, greasy, and salty. Oh so delicious.

I'm off for a drink and a bite (smoke and a pancake?), so I may or may not write a bit more today. If not, hope you had a great weekend. I need a nap.