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Gloucestershire Cross Country Championships - Edward Collier - February 2010

As science continues to push back the frontiers of knowledge, there are still mysteries that defy explanation. Dark matter. Life on other planets. The continuing popularity of Katie Price. But an enigma deeper and more intractable than these is this - why don't more runners love cross-country?

Those who know me know that I'm not a fan of mud. I've run most of the local MT races once - the Dursley Dozen, for example, is a race that I'd cheerfully avoid for the rest of my life. What kind of person returns to partake in a run where, in order to complete it, you need to use a rope? I also ran the first of the May Hill Massacre races. In my book, any race where your shoe comes off for a reason other than that you forgot to tie your shoelaces, or because the runner behind you stepped on your heel, is a race you need never bother with again. A race where you lose your shoe because of the suction power of the two feet of mud you're wading through is a race that it is your duty to run away from. Fast. In road shoes. On a road.

Whatever my misgivings about "going off-road" Almost Athletes has plenty of enthusiasts who don't share my point of view. Apparently there were 40 AA's at the recent May Hill run, at least some of whom must statistically be sane. But how many AAs turned up to the County Cross Country championships in Pittville Park? Well, I counted two in the Senior Women's race, and there were four of us in the Senior Men's race, which isn't even enough for a scoring team. Why was this event, staged practically in our back garden with an entrance fee of just £3, with the opportunity to represent the club at a County Championship, so comprehensively ignored?

I can't pretend to offer an answer. Maybe it's because, for lots of runners, "cross-country" is synonymous with school sports, which for many was just an opportunity for misery. Maybe it's just too much like a competition and not enough like fun. Maybe it's because you don't get a goody bag.

You might, with justification ask, what was I doing there? There was only about five metres of tarmac per lap, so why was I voluntarily submitting myself to 9+km of slippy, slidy grass running with the added bonus of wading through a stream? Three times. Search me - it sounds like pure torture when you put it like that. In the clubs of which I was a member before I saw the light and joined AA cross-country was a big deal, and I was asked a few times to run for teams. I find running for a team much more motivating than running for myself - if you only let yourself down you can probably talk yourself out of the beating you so richly deserve. In addition, I have my own spikes and if I don't do at least one cross-country race a year they tend to sulk.

I don't like all cross-country races equally - it depends on the venue and the course. In the Gloucestershire League Plock Court is the nadir - a featureless, pancake-flat field within spitting distance of the bypass - what's to like? Blackbridge is better - again a bit flat and boring, but at least the scenery doesn't induce premature thoughts of alcoholism. However, Pittville Park is in a class of its own. It's got hills - not many, and not that long, but there are three laps so you get to enjoy them time after time. The park is not at its loveliest in February, it's true, but it's got trees, ducks and even a few hoodies. And it's got a stream. Three times.

What more could you want?