North East Harrier XC League Wrekenton

 

There was slight concern expressed by the Club hierarchy that the turnout at the Wrekenton Harrier League Cross Country fixture today might be less than adequate. In the 1960’s if this had been Gotham City running club, a yellow image of a bat would appear in the night sky. These days its more a case of a message appearing on the Club group chat of Whatsup. As it was, I needed 6 miles to achieve my 40 miles for the week, so it was no effort to combine a bit of work on the Sunday Morning with an appearance in the Gateshead badlands to ensure the club men didn’t fall short of the 6 counters needed to finish a team. 

After a site visit to Sunderland, I arrived at the race field in good time as the rain began to stop. The course is a large swathe of rough grass and shrubs dominated in one corner by a poorly concealed colliery pit heap. Dog walking country.

There is plenty of parking in the estate nearby, although I percieved a slight air of menace never far away, the loud throaty growl of cross motor bikes being ridden by a few of the locals echoing off the houses and shuttered shops from time to time. 

After a park run the day before, and seeing that we had probably eight runners in attendance, I was happy to start toward the back of the slow group and plod around the 8k mile course. It’s a 3 lapper and a run around the grass would do me no harm at all. 

The women, who had run earlier, recommended spikes and I was pleased I had taken their advice on board. There was no particular dramas to report other than my lace came loose at the start of the 2^nd lap and I had then to spend another 5 minutes re-catching the runners I had spent 10 minutes, previously, passing.   

I was predictably passed by 4 or 5 on the finishing straight.  This included a south shields or sedgefield runner who was clearly vintage and had no place trying to beat me to the line. If I see him again, I shall attempt a reversal. As it was, I happily met my 40 miles for the week and nipped into the Ridley Arms for a Guiness with my laptop by the fire to record my thoughts  before the images of the days visual spectacle began to fade.