Racing Certs

Whinge TC Donut Hashgate Mrs Blobby C4 Bomber Posh Chopstix Shandyman Ms Whiplash Bogbrush Fannybag Dwight Scoot Hitchhiker Spot Dumper Septic Cerberus Billy Bullshit Desperate Shitfor Loudontasteless Spex Snowballs Potty Nutty Quack CabinBuoy Gnomealone Paul Dunny Rampant Blowjob Swallow Slowsucker Simple Skids Baldrick AWOL Cheating Butterfly Dribbler Fiddler Itsyor BGB Lonely Woodentop Lilo and dog Minx Tinopener Utopia Skinny Dipper Full Frontal Frankie Handful Penny Pitstop Pissquick Nick messenger Boy Slapper NoSole JWax Flash Alex HarryPotter Horny Mike Fritz Maggot Dorothy Florence TT2 Zebedee

The 2010 ‘Fun’ Run

After Dunny and Rampant’s excellent 1700 Celebration Run on Saturday it was a wonder that anyone who attended that event had any energy left to enter this race. 10 miles on the Long Trail meant a few sore legs and another large dent in Rampant’s reputation as a medium-length Trail layer. Unusually, everyone look quite fit and limber. In past years the pistol-shot cracking of knees and the snapping of elastic bandages had almost drowned out the calls to the start line.

Now, as you know, this race is handicapped and this year our handicapper Motox had enlisted the assistance of the lovely and intelligent Cerberus. She had pursued her task with diligence and application and had presented the results of her studied deliberations earlier. It seems that Motox had accepted the details with grace and courtesy, viewed them with a furrowed brow and serious expression, nodding sagely at certain points, pursing his lips and uttering a hushed, “Ah” occasionally. Then he folded the document carefully, placed it in his back pocket and forgot about it completely. Which explains the somewhat quixotic handicapping. Simple, for example, set off at 22 minutes. Just 1 minute in front of Mr Blobby... and me. A bloke with an Achilles tendon that, for over a year, has been tighter than a G-string at the Folies Bergere. It didn’t take Mr Blobby very long to lose both of us.

And Bomber caught up very quickly in the wood. Mind you, Simple and I were quite pleased to be overtaken not once, but twice by the fellow. Having zipped past us he took a right turn when he should have gone left and we had to call him back. Next came Lonely. Swiftly followed by C5. We were beginning to lose a bit of belief in the handicapping. Next, Shitfor ghosted past. He was looking nut brown, colour-coordinated and smelt like a tart’s handkerchief. Maybe he’d dabbed on a splash of Billy’s cologne. Maybe he’d fallen in a vat of the stuff. Whatever it was he was creating his own biospace wherever he went. About ten minutes after he had gone by I ducked unsuccessfully to avoid a leafy bough and experienced a double nostril full of the essence which sent my head reeling with its exotic parfum. Personally, I go for the ‘less is more’ credo.

Bomber wasn’t the only runner to go the wrong way. Dorothy completely ignored a Bar and three blobs leading off to the right and tramped purposefully forwards. Until I called him back after about fifty yards. Well, one might as well make the most of one’s good luck and he had been ahead of me. Potty appeared just after JWax so I thought it only polite to slow down and have a chat. Before doing exactly the same thing when Dumper appeared up ahead. He had just been chatted to by Simple and Dumper confided that he had never been so popular. Nothing to do with taking a rest at all...

The Trail contained a few surprises. Like that dirty great big ditch. Nick had somehow managed to jump across the chasm but it was too wide for most people. Donut and Spex had to be hauled out of it by Messenger Boy. Zebedee confessed he had opted for discretion rather than valour. I found that nipping further down the thing led me to a much narrower gap and I skipped across with verve and aplomb. Or would have done had the landing not stretched the Achilles and gave me quite an interesting sensation at the back of my heel.

The gents results are as follows: 1^st Scoot(well done!), 2^nd Dwight, 3^rd Nick, 4^th Zebedee

The ladies results are as follows: 1^st Posh, 2^nd Full Frontal, 3^rd Fannybag

C4 and C5 with assistance by FannyBag and puddings by Cerberus had laid on a magnificent banquet and Bacchanalian orgy in their garden, Chairs and tables with tablecloths covered the grass, all topped off with a marquee in case it rained. It didn’t. It was a balmy summer evening and we relaxed while we scoffed plenty of food. The only drawback was when we came to the raffle. Since it was pretty dark and most people’s eyesight was, shall we say, not at its best it would have been better if we had had touch sensitive raffle tickets. We had been handed these tickets at the finish of the race and the slip of paper also included drink ticket 1 and drink ticket 2 – with perforations! How clever. Except for one small detail. Drink ticket 1 was in between the raffle ticket and drink ticket 2 which meant one had to tear off the tickets either side of drink ticket 1 in order to present it to Spot when collecting one’s first drink. A small point but the devil is in the detail.

I think most people approach the Fun Run with a certain amount of trepidation albeit realising they are in for a damn good meal and drink later. But it is actually a lot of fun (if painful at certain points) and we run through a wide variety of country – even if some of it is cracked wide open due to the dry conditions. Thanks to our Hares and Motox for general disorganisation. We just can’t wait for next year 

On On. Hashgate.

Down Downs

RA C5 presented the following :-

Generally not bad

Up and Coming