‘How did last weeks West District Cross Country champs go ?’ I hear you ask. Well, you’re jumping the gun a wee bit. As Mrs Mac is without a Scottish Club, she couldn’t run the cross country. So as a wee treat, we identified a parkrun for her on the route between Dunkeld, the base for last weeks training camp, and Kilmarnock, the venue for the cross country. It turned out to the Plean parkrun. It is not a village I was familiar with. The parkrun advertised itself as a ‘Trail’ affair with a modest weekly turnout and some patronage from nearby Dunblane. We arrived with 15 minutes to spare and there were about 30 or so at the start. She set off with purpose. Mrs Mac said she thought she might win after leading the women for 100 yards, but was soon dissuaded after being passed by a handful of women who had other ideas. I was simply getting some early miles in and plodded around the scenic forest paths and patches of colliery spoil on an 8:30 pace. It was short and sweet and we hurried back to the car and burnt the rubber to Killie, travelling via Newton Mearns to pick up Speedy Joe and Ant. Parking 40 minutes later at the retail park, we used the facilities in Asda and then walked up to the Leisure Centre. I fancied a cuppa, but the outside catering caravan was trying to charge £2.50 for tea and I recoiled with repugnance in a lazy, slow motion speech drawling manner like you see in the movies. ‘Reeep oooaaff priii sess’.
Speedy Joe was off first. One of the favourites set off at a
suicidal pace, and it took Speedy a mile to reel her in, before then spending
the next 3 miles going toe to toe with her and eventually dropping her 500
yards before the end. Perfect tactics for the win and a strong performance.
Needless to say, Ant and I were buoyed up by this and we both started our race
with lusty determination. I had Gerry Scullion and McParland for company in the
first mile and it all took a while to settle down. However, I felt light and
started hopping from vet to vet, pulling in a couple of Bellahouston Harriers
and a Garscube. In the process I dropped my 2 clubmates and I finished strongly
reaping the benefits of the good air, expensive beer, light diet and quiet
nights at the Dunkeld training camp. I
would have been 4th M60, so there’s still work to do for next year
and my anticipated entry into Supervet territory.
Not satisfied with 2 races on the Saturday, I had entered the cyclo cross on the Sunday at Thorneyford near Ponteland. It was cold and it had been raining all morning and I knew it was going to be a wet one. It was grim. We were off sharpish and right enough after a lap or two my bike was fully clagged up. The pedalling became more laboured and I struggled latterly to move the gears as they became mudbound. I stopped for 10 or 20 seconds to get my feet sorted out, the cleats on my shoe soles also becoming ineffective in the clag. I finished toward the rear of the field and was truly envious of those who had pitmen and 2nd bikes – yes, it’s a thing – you can change your bike every lap if you have someone to spray down the bike you discard – its clearly an unfair advantage and I found myself being a little contemptuous of the whole affair toward the end. No matter. Forty minutes of cycling and another 40 minutes of washing the bike afterwards in a big puddle beside the car. How Glam! Once I got home, I had to wash it again with clean soapy water…another 20 minutes. So this weekend, after looking at the forecast, I’ve decided to abstain from the world of 2 wheels. S’pose there’s always next week.
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