It was lying
It was at least minus 20 out there. With a wind that couldn't be bothered to go round you. It went straight through you instead.
We had arrived at Tuffman. My very first canicross race. Ever. And I had decided to run it with 2 dogs.
Mrs B gives me the look she has used so many times in the last few weeks. The one that says "You are gonna come a cropper".
Me, I was just excited. OK, and maybe a little bit scared.
Others arrive, canicrossers amongst them. They recognise me, despite the fact I had decided to go incognito today, and had left my sink plunger hat and tiger onesie at home.
They made me feel very welcome, and we spent a good while chatting and shivering in the Siberian conditions.
As start time nears, we get the kit ready, and get myself into my many layers. This includes putting a head camera on, to capture our adventure. Our gentle trot out on a nippy Saturday morning. How civilised!
Our dogs, already excited at the sight of other dogs and strange people, now go into hyper excitement as they see the harnesses, and are really starting to get quite lively.
Putting the harnesses on the dogs is like trying to nail jelly to a wall. They wriggle and jump around as I play hook the dog with the harness.
All hooked up, I unhook them from the car and they leap out, heading towards the nearest dog they can find, with me in hot pursuit.
We get to the start line with a few minutes to spare, and I hover at the back, trying to keep a lines length from anybody else. My dogs are going crazy. Barking, jumping up, tying me up in knots and generally doing everything to get me to let them go.
It's about now that it starts to dawn on me that this might not be the 'gentle start' to a canicross event that I had envisaged.
The dogless runners start their race, and I watch them go. I note the start is a longish, downhill section.
A little bit of pooh comes out.
I can't help it. I'm in a hole so damn deep, there isn't a digger in the world that's big enough to get me out of this! I've only been doing this about 5 or 6 weeks! This is only my second run with both the dogs together!
EVER!!!!!!
Oh dear.........! (Actually, some slightly less savoury words go through my mind, but I'm too polite to repeat them on here).
As the other dogs head towards the start, I hang back. I turn the camera on. Another lady runs up alongside us and introduces herself and her dog and asks how I'm feeling.
"Excited" I lie.
"1 Minute" The starter announces.
I distract myself by attempting to calm the dogs down. Pointless. They are having the time of their lives already here. And they are.......lively! I am leaning back at a 45 degree angle trying to keep the little blighters from making a jump start here!
The horn goes off. I release the dogs.
"Go!"
I swear, name any formula one driver, put him in the best formula one car next to us, and he would NEVER have left that start line as quickly as we did.
We go from a standing start to about light speed in the blink of an eye.
"Easy!!!!!" I call to the dogs.
Nothing.
"EEEEEEAAAAAASSSSSYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Nope. This isn't how we practiced it. This isn't how we practiced it at all! Over our local park, on our own the dogs trotted along, pulling firmly but gently. Bailey even looks over his shoulder when we are on our own, to check for directions.
The little sod ain't looking over his shoulder now, that's for sure!
Ooooohhhhh no! My bungee line is just over 2 metres at full stretch according to the website I bought it from.
Right now, I beg to differ. You would get very small change out of 5 metres I reckon.
Freddie, my 7 year old collie, the one I was keen to get to take things easy, has other ideas. He's clearly been watching Hussain Bolt during the Olympics, and is in full flight. Even Bailey is struggling to keep up with him.
As for me, I am a picture of wide eyed terror, arms flailing in all directions, legs a blur as we go careering down this hill at waaaaaaayyy beyond my top speed!
"EEEEEEAAAAASSSSSYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
"Freddie, EASY" I appeal to the dog whom I think will pay more attention to me.
"I'm sorry, Freddie's ears are not available to take your screamed messages right now. Please leave a message, and he'll ignore that as well".
As we continue to hurtle down the hill, we are overtaking everybody. I mean everybody. Dogs and runners part as we scream by them. If I had thought about it, I would have smiled smugly and nodded as we ran past them, a look of "Check out how quick we are!" "See you at the finish line suckers!"
But right now, it is taking everything I have just to stay upright.
We are rapidly approaching barrier that we have to pass to the left of to turn at the bottom of the hill. and we are too far right. If we turn left too late, we are going straight through this barrier, and will be medium sliced as we come out the other side of it.
"LEEEEEEFFFFFFFTTTTTTTT!!!!!" I yell.
I know that it's largely down to the fact that everyone else is turning left, and nothing to do with my calm and timely directions to my dogs that they make the turn, and I follow, broadside behind them.
The ground levels out at this point, and the dogs settle to a slightly more manageable speed. Still waaaaay too fast for my liking, but now only moderately terrifying, as opposed to 'underwear soilingly' so.
We continue into a wooded trail area, and the we hit another downhill section. Only this is worse. This is muddy, slippery and bumpy. And there are trees.
The dogs pick up speed.
The downhill gets steeper.
And muddier.
The dogs accelerate to stupid miles an hour.
And I am scared.
"WOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH........EASYEASYEASYEASYEASY......."
Absolutely no response from the engine room whatsoever. I consider a Star Trek Scottie type of "She canee tek noo muuurrrr cap'n. She's gannee blow any second!"
I have got to get us slowed down. We are going way too fast here. I am seconds away from a face plant here, and at this speed, it's going to be a tooth and bowel loosener for sure.
Several trees flash by us on my right. I am now sliding, more than running down this hill that is getting ever steeper so it seems.
Then I spot her ahead. A picture of beauty. A tall slim specimen of loveliness. She. Is. Gorgeous. I want to wrap my arms around her and never let go.
I have fallen in love with a tree up ahead. I decide we have got to stop, and I simply have to chat her up.
I am going to hug that tree!
My right hand extends, and I make a grab for her.
Got her!
The right side of my body slows.
The left side.......doesn't.
Uh oh!
This ain't gonna end well!
It doesn't.
My body spins, and I lose my grip on my new found love, as she slaps my hand away in disgust.
I go down like a felled tree. Straight onto my back, where I slide for what feels like a good few feet, helped by both gravity and the dogs pulling.
I hear a voice from behind me shout "Man down!"
The camera catches it all.
I am sure that many of you have seen the footage already. For those that haven't. I have the clip here.
You can see that I actually get up very quickly. I have suffered a trampling from Bailey in the past, as he rushes to check that I am OK. I am not about to suffer the same fate by the pair of them! And people have seen me fall. As much as I want to curl up in a ball and cry, my dignity won't let me. I leap up.
"Are you OK?"
"Yep, absolutely fine". I stop myself from saying "I meant to do it actually".
After double checking that I really am fine, the nice lady runs on ahead, and we continue at a much slower pace.
It seems that the dogs have at last got the message, and have slowed.
It occurs to me that we have done a lot of downhill stuff so far. And pretty soon we start to climb. The dogs choose this moment to get 'tired' and stop pulling.
Oh, NOW you choose to slow down!
I am reduced to a slower and slower running pace, and eventually I walk.
I probably should have done some more hill training.
And so the run continues. A real mix of road, hard trail, mud very narrow paths and trees.
Other highlights from the run include -
- Slipping again, going down very briefly on one knee (proposing the tree I fell in love with perhaps?)
- Suddenly discovering a ramp in the path which a stunt motorcycle rider would use to jump double decker buses.........OK, maybe a slight exaggeration. I realise it is a ramp when the dogs jump over it. No time to slow them down. I launch off this thing at a fair old pace and for a brief moment, I am treading air. I land heavily on my feet, my knees buckling but I just manage to stay upright.
- Running waaaaaay to close to a river for comfort, with at least one of my dogs that absolutely loves water. He looks longingly at it several times. Luckily, Freddie is not so keen on water, otherwise I would have been regretting not taking my water wings.
- Briefly taking a separate path to the dogs (I took the correct path of course!) My path went up, theirs didn't. They had to clamber up a steep bank to get back on track.
- Hugging another tree where the path was very narrow and very close to the water at one point so as not to get dragged in.
CAUTION STEEP HILL
As we pass this sign another one reads
CHICKEN RUN
It points to an alternative, less steep route. I am sorely tempted to take the chicken run, but there may be people watching.
I stop the dogs completely.
"There is NO way we are running down this one boys!"
This isn't so much a hill, as a cliff. A parachute would have been more appropriate.
I ease the dogs forward. If they decide to take off now, it is game over for sure.
Luckily, they take it very easy down the hill. Well, three quarters of it at least. They suddenly accelerate as we near the bottom.
"EEEEEEAAAAASSSSSSYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!"
I swear they look at each other & laugh!
Further on, we stop a couple of times for a poop. I'll not bother to clarify it was for the dogs. You've already made up your minds, haven't you.
I bag it, struggling to tie a knot with my gloves on and whilst running. It's a welcome source of heat in these conditions, I can tell you.
We start a long steady climb on a road surface, and again we slow to a walk. I don't mind admitting I was knackered at this point, but Freddie was a bit tired as well. He's done amazingly well considering his age and how little training he had done, and I didn't want to push him to hard.
As we turn off the road towards the finish, the dogs naturally start to pick up the pace again. It's hardly a sprint finish, but we manage to run across the finish line.
We are cold, wet, tired muddy and above all, very happy. We will definitely be back for another race soon.
Tomorrow actually. Our first ever Brutal. A hilly, muddy and wet run. I am only taking one dog this time. Bailey will love the water. Me.........less so.
Lol, "I meant to do it actually... " I know exactly how you feel!! :0)
ReplyDeleteBut I did Kali. I really can't recommend using your whole body as a land anchor highly enough! ;-)
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