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Cleeve Cuckoo report by Edward Collier and photos by Tony Stanton of CLC Striders- June 2010

Special thanks to Tony Stanton of CLC Striders who provided the photos.

The uphill start - a taste of more to come.

Having raced (well, more accurately, run) the Malvern Half Marathon on Sunday, I wasn't sure how the Cleeve Cloud Cuckoo 5.5 was going to pan out. First and foremost, as Alison Hume gleefully pointed out when she saw me, "You don't do off-road!" Well, the one thing you can say about the Cleeve Cloud Cuckoo course is that it's not mud. Actually, that's the second thing you can say. The first thing you can say is "hill". Or rather "hills". It starts off uphill, before going along a flat bit before another hill (quite a nasty one this), then another sort of flat bit with a minor downhill, and then another slight incline - nearly a proper hill. Then begins a descent - at times quite steep and treacherous, during which I was overtaken by several people, at least one of whom had clearly become detached from his senses. Then at the bottom a little flat bit before The Hill. The steep ascent from the Washpool really sorts out the runners from the walkers, and it's a cruel ascent because no sooner do you get to a flat bit than another, even steeper ascent hoves into view, about as welcome as Russell Brand at a Saga holiday. Once on the top you run past the radio masts and then there's only one more hill up to the top of Cleeve Cloud, before a pretty quick descent to the Golf Club. It was only when we reached the radio masts that I felt at all as if I was running, and I managed to catch and pass Beth Puddifoot with whom I've had a few close battles in the past.

The leading race contenders.

The consensus at the finish seemed to be that it was possible to consider having enjoyed the race given sufficient elapse of time. It's the same principle, I think, that allows women to bear children more than once - that is, the ability of the body to forget pain. Because if you race this properly, it is painful. The climbs are lung-sapping and leg-draining but, unlike running these routes in training (which I do most weeks during the dry season), at the top of the climb you can't just turn round and enjoy the view, pretending that you always stop during training runs to enjoy the vista; instead you have to try to pick up the pace and forge ahead to the next appointment with agony.

AA Anthony Bailey who was to finish 4th.

Despite the foregoing, my memories of this race will be mainly happy ones - finishing, for a start. That was a happy moment, particularly when I looked at my watch and realised I'd knocked nearly three minutes off last year's time. Chris Midgley bounding past me like a demented gazelle on one of the ascents (I'd have been proud to have been travelling at that speed going downhill). Anthony Bailey getting a prize for coming 4th overall, not being there to collect it which led me to wonder who would end up drinking it. Jean Bryan winning a prize and immediately sharing it out with everyone around her (unlike yours truly, who would have sneaked it back to the car to snarf in private, like Gollum with his precioussssss). Would I do the race again? Yes, yes and yes. It's a glorious course - on a fine evening (it wasn't that fine, but it was warm and hardly raised more than weak mizzle) the views are as good as you can get, not that you see much of them, staring as you are at the stones and sheep poo. It's very challenging but it's over quite quickly, and there's no real pressure - just a bunch of like-minded people getting together for a spot of consensual masochism. Next month's Aerospace 5 is much more running at the sharp end, but if I can stay in shape I'll be there for the long trudge up Southam Lane.