Buckle up for a race report that pull’s no punches!!
Jarrow Cross Country Race Report
By Lauren Bird
If I could compare the absolute mud bath that was my race to anything it would have to be hell itself. As Dormouse, Jessica and I lined up on the pathetic strip of greyish mud that served as a start line, we were all thinking the same thing: Why, why did I ever sign up for this idiotic cross country? Why????!!! Suddenly, a very rude gun interrupted our intellectual train of thought. “I think that means `go`, I said helpfully to Dormouse. Once we had started, it was game on! I was going to win this! I wasn’t coming last! The finish line was in sight! That is, until I realised we had actually just begun…
About ten minutes of pain, suffering and mutterings of death threats to the organisers of The Mud Bath later, I was still thinking cheerful thoughts (you know, the usual, a few growls, more death threats, a few mutterings of: “When I get my *pant* hands on the idiot *pant* who *pant* put a random path in the middle of nowhere *wheeze* I will rip their arm off and beat ‘ em with the soggy end.” Cheerful stuff like that.) Dormouse was running strongly however, and we sprinted for the line together, finishing 31st and 32nd. Unfortunately, Jessica lost a shoe but still managed to finish 44th.
After the insult of my cross country, I came into the TBH tent, only to find that my mother had forgotten to take socks. Fortunately, the brilliant Dave Moir had brought not only spare socks, but also a helpful towel! At least someone brought organised parents! (Soz, Mum.)