Never Say Never

With a week of sickness behind me, I decided late Friday afternoon to attempt the third race in the Mud in Your Eye XC Series which was taking place the following morning. I hadn’t missed one of these cross country races since the series began back in 2005, and really wanted to keep the streak going. Also, right at the back of my mind was the fact that I was currently placed 4th overall in the series and just 13 seconds away from a top three slot. Despite being sicker than I’ve been for a very long time, I’d spent many a moment earlier in the week visualizing a storybook comeback and a successful race – rather silly considering I could hardly get out of bed for a couple of days, but there’s nothing wrong with having a dream, right?

Anyway, Friday at around 5pm I managed 30 minutes on the treadmill. It was a weak effort, but at least it was a run. Losing six pounds in as many days does that to you I guess. At least I knew I’d get round the 8k course and maintain my streak – not a bad worst case scenario.

Fast forward to Saturday morning and I find myself at the race venue with about an hour to go to the start. I warmed up for just over a mile and took in the last portion of the new one loop course. I figured it would might help my cause if I knew where I was going at the end of the race.

At 8:00am sharp, with the wind picking up and temperature dropping, we were off. I decided to wear a Welsh soccer jersey for luck – it’s Saint David’s Day tomorrow which is a national day of celebration within Wales – not exactly traditional cross country attire, but it’s always nice to represent my country of birth! At first my legs protested at the speed I wanted them to go, but after a half mile or so, I finally got into a rhythm. That’s me in red at the back of the chasing pack by the way. The first and second place guys are just out of the picture and the guy placed third overall in the series (the one I need to beat by 13 seconds) is leading the chase and looking strong.

My plan, if I can call it a plan, was to keep the guy I needed to beat in my sights for as long as possible, maybe catch up with a mile or so to go and then surge ahead by at least 13 seconds – a bit outrageous considering my sickness and the fact that he’d already beaten me twice in the first two races of the series. No matter, I settled in, worked my way through the pack and found myself in fifth place about 20 meters behind. Midway through the second mile another runner Jack came up on my shoulder and helped me along for a while. He was running strongly and carried me on a surge that lasted almost a mile.

Next time I glanced ahead we were just 7 or 8 meters behind and gaining ground rapidly. We hadn’t reached the three mile mark and although I felt it was a little early to “take the lead”, I went for it anyway. Rob (the guy I was trying to beat), was breathing a little harder than me, and I felt my only opportunity was to just go for it. I surge a little and told myself not to look back.

The final two miles were hard. Not only was I running scared, but my strength seemed to be slipping away. I tried to maintain good pace, but felt the cadence drop and hoped I could at least stay ahead to the finish line. Eventually I reached the spot where I’d warmed up before the race and felt comfort in the fact that at least I knew where I was running now. The ground was a little soft in places, but hardly muddy and with just a few minor undulations, was relatively easy to keep a good rhythm going – I just hoped it would be enough. With just half a mile to go, I knew the race for third could be decided by just a second or two and pushed for home.

It was great to finally see the finish line. My tank was empty, but I kept going and crossed the line in 30:27 (4th place). I turned quickly and was relieved to see Jack was right behind with Rob not far in the distance. Not too far, but further than 13 seconds away. Unless my calculations were wrong, somehow I’d managed to snatch third place in the series! Amazing…