Pittville Park cross country race

I recently took part in my second ever cross country race (my first was in Bath in December) at Pittville Park in Cheltenham. It was the fourth and final race in this season’s Gloucestershire Cross Country League. It was also the first race in the running club’s off-road race series for 2025 (the off-road equivalent of the road race series I did last year).

Pittville Park is a park I’m very familiar with. But cross country makes you see it in a completely different way, crossing parts of the park we have never crossed before.

A week before the race, my husband and I, along with another lady from the club, met up with the man who leads cross country for the club. He took us on a recce around the route, which was very useful. He also gave us lots of advice on the technical aspects of running cross country – how to cope with hills, bends, mud etc and choose the quickest and safest route through. There was so much advice that I forgot a lot of it, but the bits I remembered were definitely useful!

We’d gone along to watch the race last year, not long after we joined the club. The race passes through a stream and I was in awe of people running through it. I just couldn’t imagine doing that myself. But on the recce we learned that the bit of the stream was use is the narrowest and shallowest, with the least steep bank on the other side.

Men and women race separately in cross country, with senior men running further than women. We arrived in time for my race at 1pm, with my daughter going along to spectate. We picked up our numbers in the Prince of Wales Stadium over the road, then I joined the long toilet queue. Unfortunately there were no portable toilets (I can’t write the word that we all call them because I actually got in trouble with that company for writing it in a previous blogpost. Seriously, get a life!) so we were restricted to the four cubicles in the stadium – some of which had run out of toilet roll. I’d got tissue in my bag and handed out a couple of tissues to ladies in the queue.

Then I headed over to the club tent. They’d set up an actual tent – not a gazebo – which zipped closed. It offered a bit of warmth and had plenty of space to store kit and to get changed. I did a very short warm-up, then it was time to head to the start line. I was wearing spikes and was surprised to see a lot of the ladies weren’t. Before our race, there had already been three races – under 11s, under 13s and under 15s. Being February, the park wasn’t in a great state anyway and it was even worse after three races. I was very glad I had my spikes!

Our race was women from under 17 upwards, plus under 17 boys and over 65 men.

The teenagers lined up at the front. A lady from our club who is first lady in a lot of races lined up just behind them. I lined up a couple of rows back from her with our fast over 65 man and a woman a couple of years younger than me and a bit faster than me. She wasn’t wearing spikes and said I would beat her. I didn’t believe her.  We were in front of the rest of our club.

And we were off! The first part of the course is fairly straightforward – run towards the road, up the hill and along the top of the park. It was reasonably muddy, but not too bad. And not too much twisting and turning. After that, it was just constant changes of direction, up and down hills and mud. Lots of mud.

I looked at my watch and couldn’t believe I’d only done 0.5 miles. It felt much more than that! But the next time I looked at it, I’d done 1.2 miles and I was pleasantly surprised. I didn’t look at it again until 3.6 miles. I was having to concentrate way too hard for that.

A couple of people called my name, but I didn’t even look up. I might have known them or they might just have read my name from my vest. I knew from the advice I’d been given not to take my eyes off the course. Because you never know when the next hazard will come! We ran down a hill, up a hill, along a bit and we were heading for the dreaded stream. And it wasn’t the narrow, shallow bit we’d been told it would be. It was in a slightly different place – deeper, wider and with a steeper and very muddy bank. I ‘attacked’ the stream, just as I’d been told to. Three or four steps through the water and I was powering up the muddy bank.

There are a few short, steep, narrow banks around the park that I’d barely even noticed before. The cross country course used every one of them. There were tree roots too and I remembered the advice to always avoid them – they’re not just a trip hazard, they’re also a slip hazard because they get slippery with the mud. Up onto the next bank, the teenage girl in front of me slipped and fell in a load of mud. She struggled to get back up again and I nearly fell trying to avoid her. But I kept going. Down a short, sharp hill and onto the second lap.

I was overtaking a surprising number of people. The course was brutal, but I realised I was enjoying it. I attacked the stream again and it wasn’t long until I saw that 3.6 miles on my watch and knew it was nearly over.

We’d been advised that cross country is all about your position, not your time. Times can vary dramatically from year to year, depending on the conditions. So it’s all about not letting anyone overtake you as you get to the line. Nobody overtook me on the approach to the finish line. I’d given it my all and was feeling very happy with myself.

I knew I was the second lady from our club and in front of our fast over 65 man. It turns out I was also the first lady in my age category, which I was particularly pleased about. I ran the 4.2 mile race in 33:34 – an average pace of 8 min/ miles.

Then it was time for my husband’s six mile/ three lap race…