Heaton Park
27th January 2007
At first sight Heaton Park appeared to have become a refugee camp for runners. Tents were pitched on every scrap of boggy land; muddy young athletes jogged and limped by, and in the chilly breeze runners queued for hot drinks.
This was my first “big” cross country and I wasn’t at all sure what to expect. I couldn’t imagine a thousand runners at Boggart Hole or Macclesfield. Surely, even if we survived the chaos of the start, the course would be chewed up like a ploughed field after the first lap.
I jogged over to the starting area and found our allocated “pen 59-60” which turned out to be the space between two of a long line of poles stretching down the field. As we lined up the purpose of this arrangement became apparent. The start was at least 100m wide meaning that nobody was more than a couple of places back from the line. Ray pointed out the first corner some 200m ahead. Trevor checked the wind direction. Malcolm rubbed his under performing calf thoughtfully. “Right lads: Go out hard; pick up speed on the second lap; sprint the third.” And then we were off, the whole great line surging forward into battle.
Out to my left I saw Andi Jones (the eventual winner) sprinting out ahead of the line. Stuart might have been tempted to overtake him at this point but I decided to conserve some energy for the long 12km course.
Rounding the first bend we were funnelled into an area of thick mud and as I slowed in a particularly sticky patch, panting runners streamed by on both sides. This set the pattern for the race where the volume of runners meant that a strong hill could easily gain you a dozen places for you to squander by taking a poor line at the next bend. There were several muddy sections but overall the wide course was surprisingly runnable and followed a marvellously undulating path covering most of the south side of the park.
Starting the second lap I soon felt the long shadow of Malcolm approaching on the inside and he worked his way swiftly past me as I laboured through the mud. As the race finally began to settle down I saw a few familiar faces of local rivals amongst the seething horde.
The loops in the course and the open views meant that by the final lap streams of runners could be seen snaking backwards and forwards across the park. This was a tremendous sight but concentration was required as we pumped up the final hill and tried to pick up the pace. There was a straight run in to the finish and the volume of runners and supporters encouraged a real sprint finish as we all scrambled for places.
The Wilmslow team of 4 “ever-green” athletes wasn’t sufficient to register in the 6-man counter but we all agreed that it had nevertheless been a well-spent afternoon in the park.
Rob