By Josh Fiddaman
Christmas has been and gone. The time for enjoyment and stuffing our faces with pigs in blankets has past. Many of us will have put on a few pounds over this festive period. What's the best way to burn off these extra calories, I hear you ask
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Christmas has been and gone. The time for enjoyment and stuffing our faces with pigs in blankets has past. Many of us will have put on a few pounds over this festive period. What's the best way to burn off these extra calories, I hear you ask. Well the answer isn't pretty nor fun. A matter of fact it’s hellish and brutal. It's a PE student’s worst nightmare. Yes that’s right, I’m talking about the dreaded cross country.
On the 6th of January this is what the brave/crazy people (depends on how you look at it) of the North East went through. This was the first cross country of the year and I'm sure it will live long in the memory of everybody who competed.
It was around 11.30 am when the car parks started to fill. There were many athletes full of anticipation for what was to come. However, some were clearly regretting getting out of their warm cosy beds, to be out in the freezing cold. Who could blame them? It turned out that the course was nothing apart from hills, mud and more mud. If there was any happiness or joy about being here, that had been sucked out after seeing the course.
As they say ‘no pain no gain’, it was evident there was going to be a lot of pain. Just what you want at the start of a new year.
Thirty minutes before the start, people started to strip down into their vests and shorts. Hundreds of legs shaking with cold and/or nerves. Athletes club coloured paint had been applied; we looked like Celtish soldiers going into battle rather than runners on the start line. When the sound of the 5 minute warning split the icy air, people started to assemble at the start area.
Without any notice the gun started the race. It was like a scene from World War 1. There were elbows being tossed around in all directions. fifty metres in, all I could taste was mud. The first real obstacle was a large water jump around seven feet wide followed by a sharp incline. You could hear the groans from a mile a way. Several people lost a shoe or even fell. When they regained their footing, mud poured down their bodies like a chocolate fountain. This continued for the whole 10km course: the hills sapping every last piece of energy; pure physical torture of every muscle burning inside.
By the end of the race every single step felt like a mile. Time dragged. It was a struggle just to continue moving. The lungs were screaming for air, muscles shouting to stop. It was excruciating. Once you had somehow passed the finish line everybody just dropped to the floor.
Everyone was covered to head and toe in mud; no skin was visible. I was even washing mud out of my hair when I got home. By this point most people had thrown up last nights tea (see… cross country is great for weight loss). It was over, all done , we could go home and relax. Well until next month’s cross country, then we will do it all over again.
Finally I hear you ask; "why"? Well for most people it is the sense of achievement. For me it is the motivation in that you want to push your body to the limits and give your very best in the know that you’ll survive.
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