Don't be Cross

It was a day of 2 halves. My best man and I paced our better halves around the Abbey Dash 10Km run in Leeds in the morning followed by a brief flirtation with Cyclo-Cross in the afternoon.

The Abbey Dash 10Km
Not a run on the Bank of Santader but one of the UK's best 10Km running races. Neither Mrs H nor I had been well of late but we kept our sick notes to ourselves. We lined up in Leeds hoping to get Mrs H round the course under an hour. This was after we'd battled the snow to get to the start line. It was cold but the sun shone and 58:22 seconds later we crossed the line. Well I crossed the line Mrs H loves a sprint finish so 58:18 and the bragging rights were hers. All on the forefoot and I can still walk ok today.

Cyclo-Cross
For the uninitiated Cyclo-Cross is racing round the woods and fields on a bike that resembles a road bike but has a few modifications. For me, it simply meant pootling round on my mountain bike. When I say pootling I actually mean spending 1 hour in the red wondering if I'm going to see my lunch again. This being the UK there was lots of mud, leaves and even a flight of steps to run up whilst carrying your bike.

British mud, thick, claggy and very very heavy. My MTB managed to gain weight at an alarming rate throughout each lap. The plus side of this was I had to stop a few times to remove mud from behind the forks. For the top men there is no such problem as they jump onto a "fresh" bike each lap that has been cleared of such mud by a gaggle of parents, friends and even WAGS (Mrs H, take note) armed with generators and mobile pressure washers.

Now this isn't really how cross is meant to be. I've seen it on telly, races in Belgium that are so very very fast. Usually very flat, a few obstacles and even some tarmac. In the past the big races have even had a section of the course that runs through the beer tent........... I'll type that again, through the beer tent. Now you're talking.

This was a far more back to basic approach to cross. Getting changed in the car park and no showers. As my bike gained weight it became more difficult to shoulder it and carry it up the flight of steps. This went from being some sort of endurance based session to a fusion of endurance plus strength and conditioning.

Mrs H was glad to hear me announce that I was glad I'd done it but was in no hurry to repeat the experience....... unless there's a beer tent.

Cross? I was too knackered to be angry!

Mudman

Turned up, did it, went home.

Mudman - an off-road duathlon.

I'm not too good at running off-road at speed. I worry about my ankles and end up mincing along. As for the MTB side of things. My legs didn't play ball but it became apparent quite early on that this isn't my forte. However, it is something I enjoy doing for a bit of a laugh.

Eighth isn't a bad result and with my form.... It'll do for me.

Back to reality, from Mudman to Iron(ing)Man on Sunday night with a pile of laundry.

In the words of Elvis (on the KitKat advert), "I ain't gone anywhere, I'm just resting"