The Championship commences. All of Flegg’s competitors for the first event at GT Yarmouth, equipped with bottles and food, get into the van and huddle around for a team talk. It’s quite small in the van and I don’t really understand why we couldn’t have this outside. But there you go. We are in the van travelling down the Gt Yarmouth Bypass, on the way to the first run. Mr Young is commenting on the fact that Flegg has always won so the history of the school depends on us!

“We will do our best,” we replied. But would that be enough to keep Mr Young happy?

You can see why Mr Young was anxious about it. Just think- being head of the department that has won the Cross Country Championships for years and years. There is a lot of pressure for the teacher, and yet competitors don’t tend to think about this. Mr Young is passionate about his team; he is conscientious and determined to win every time.

We arrive at the Gt Yarmouth Beach and quite literally start the race after that, of course after warming up. We defiantly need it- the day is cold yet windy, and clearly you can see the south-easterly wind bouncing off the waves on the sea next to us. There might be a visible patch of sun, but this is obscured by many clouds.

This is the time where I felt nervous. Have you ever got that nervous feeling- not only was this the first one, I would get a rough estimate of where I would come in later events? There is defiantly something about performing physically. At School, I don’t think it is much of an event, but personal exercise. However, these kinds of events show how nervous you can get- even though you are really good at a particular sport, you can still get worried about it. It is the same with the cross country events. That sickening feeling as you look up at Mr Young for the last time before…

The whistle is blown and I get to the front of the line. That is clearly not enough for some people push me out of the way and eager feet speedily sprint on at every angle now. The person in first place is a working ant to me, but at least it is a Flegg Competitor. I do my very best to trample among the seaweed depository around the track, and the deep dips of holes in the ground, from the day’s beach activities. Thinking about the finish and how I will tackle the wind against me, I keep sprinting, every minute, trying to overtake someone. It’s tough, but if it wasn’t, what would be the point of it?

Cross Country, in my family, goes back to the times my Dad went out on the Southern England coast and ran 15 miles a month. There used to be more discipline, he would say,- he would have been forced more, to overtake even if he had the worst stitch, or to keep going even if he had the knees of a paralysed being. He told me the night before, just as I was going to bed about his runs and he gave me some tips about my runs. I kept thinking of these stories over and over and over again as I was running. I kept thinking about how much good it was doing for me. I kept thinking of my Dad.

I’m now probably in the 40^th place. I carry on with full determination.

“I will do this, Daniel. I will do this.” I kept saying through my mouth of flem.

As soon as I’m off the beach, I find myself running on a long stretch of pavement- which I think is much easier. With full acceleration, I deliver my finish as quick as I can, using every single energy resource, every single muscle, every tiny cell in my sweating body and come….

25^th wasn’t bad. Remember that I would improve on this by getting used to the terrain of each event. I think once you get to know hard the 1^st one is, one has knowledge of roughly how difficult the others would be.

We get back in the mini-bus and drive to the school. People panting, drinking, eating and some just sitting there.

In this event, at Gt Yarmouth, Jack Garrad came 2^nd, and Ben Church came 3^rd. This is quite good, considering they were running against some people older than them. The course for Gt Yarmouth, I found out, was longer for the boys than the girls, but don’t ask me why?! Girls have the capability of running a long distance; you just have to look at the Marathon or the Olympics to see that. But men really have got that strength, that physical power and strength within them which really does drive them more.

I asked Mr Young what he thought of the first cross country, while he was driving us all back to the school. He expressed his views:

“Jack did very well and Ben Church was in lead of the group. Henry Wright did very well as-well- 17^th place, and he’s only year 7.”

The boys, I did find, liked a good sing song as arriving back at Flegg High School- the destination, in actual fact of our next cross country run, which would take place on Thursday 8^th.

The next one came round quite quickly. It was going to be where the original Fun run route had been, across numerous fields and tracks- quite more agricultural than the one at GT Yarmouth.

The forecast was to be windy, with a possible tornado on the way. Remember that the flooding of most of Norfolk came the next day!! I managed to get a quick word from one of our competitors, before the race and he said:

“I’m so scared!”

Understandable, but the point of most Cross Country Runs is to make you push yourself to all extremes. Warming up in the new Sports hall at Flegg High, everyone was ready to go. The route had been explained and many team photos were processed.

The route was set to be a muddy one, approximately 3000m in length, which is the same distance if you were to picture this as the fun run route. About that length, anyway. This was also a chance to improve on my last result through a kind of individual competition. I have always found that if you run for individual competition, then you unknowingly improve your school’s results as well.

At 2:30, the second cross country run started. Miss Cropley told us to get in front of them. As a PE teacher, like Mr Young, you would expect her to say that. But the case was much different. Competitors weathered the track within seconds, as we ran, frantically trying to get a space or a clear view of what was ahead.

Well, what really was to come, really, were three more cross country runs before the qualifying round. These were at Oriel, Caister, and Cliff Park. It would be pointless for me to write about each individual event, because the same type of events occurred at each. We were always told to ‘get in front of them’ and were encouraged to sprint the last few meters as it could make all of the different whether Flegg came 1^st or 2^nd place.

The real challenge was at Bure Park early this year. The Bure Park events were slightly different as people ran in year groups. Quite an afternoon as I met one of my old friends from middle school, Jack, who would be running with me later that afternoon. I also was taking pictures like you do if you are the School’s Sports Journalist and my camera broke. We kept trying to figure out what was the matter with it and, oh, what a palaver!!

It was my last Cross Country event and this was important as the top 5 would qualify. So it was important for me to try my very best throughout the whole event. The time drew near and I made sure that I had plenty of fuel within me. My t-shirt was securely tightened in my shorts to prevent air drag. Mr Young had one last team talk and then it was time to go.

The day was chilly- very chilly. My hands were shaking and my legs were literally vibrating as if the ground was electric. The whistle blew- for the last time in my cross country experiences, and I was off like a bullet. Possibly a bit too fast, but I knew that I really wanted to sprint all of it. Every centre-metre. Every little bit.

My stomach felt like a bag of ready made jelly and my head was spinning like one of those playground rides. I kept going a bit quicker every minute until….

I always thought something would happen on this very substantial race. I knew it. As I was coming round for my second lap, I must have hit my right foot on something and immediately my trainer came off.

“His trainer has come off,” I heard someone say, but I kept going.

The ground, caked with dew and golf balls of sticky and un-satisfying lumps of mud covered my sock. It was alright until I got to the pavement, and you cannot imagine what it felt like when I hit that terrain. My foot was cold, damp, muddy and it crackled as I reached the pavement. Persevering, I tried to access more of a patch of grass, but the sharp sticks stuck in my foot, which created more of an excruciating pain. I couldn’t keep going- I just couldn’t.

“I can… I can do this.” My belly of jelly soon became too much for me to put up with. I stumbled and fell to the ground. Just like that. I couldn’t tell you my pain at that point, even if I sit here and try to remember what it was like.

“Are you alright, mate?” It was Jack, my friend from middle school. I nodded and told him to keep going. Although now many people had passed me, I wasn’t going to give up that easily. Clenching my stomach as if it would fall off in a heap before my freezing feet, I walked. It turned into an unstable jog. I could imagine what Mr Young was thinking and of course he couldn’t see this. He must have thought I had gone past him. But I hadn’t had I? I had let the pain defeat the object and this agenised me even more. Many marshals, concerned as they were, said that it would be alright.

As I sit here in my seat, at my desk, I am constantly thinking that last 100m were the worst in terms of pain and satisfaction. Mr Young and his red and orange coat were now visible and that inspired me to go even quicker. It was a combination, at that point, of pain and exerting to the limits. Only a few metres away..There was Mr Young shouting “SPRINT DANIEL SPRINT”…. I sprinted… I sprinted…. I sprinted….

I finished. I finally finished.

****

I think that Cross Country is the only sport that shows you how well you know yourself- your own body. Over the many months of it, I have found that, even at the worst of times like that moment at Bure Park that I still kept going. And so, here is a tip to all of you young achievers out there. I might not be the best runner in the world.. I know that. But there is one thing I do know.

The next time you are in PE, doing a few laps around the field, remember this.

“Ask yourself: ‘Can I give more?’. The answer is usually: ‘Yes’.” A quote from Paul Tergat.