Muddy Beard: Race report - The Hairy Helmet

This report will have no twists, no shocks and definitely no surprises. I LOVE this race. No, I LOVE everything about this event. The ethos, the atmosphere the motivation, the spirit and all the untangable awesomeness that happens around this event

The event team, are so incredible and passionate about their local community, they invite all the local running clubs, local businesses, and communities to put together a team of four runners for this 2 and a bit mile relay race. The sponsors are the local brewery, the local knife maker, the local running shop, the local health care centre, a local fashion outlet, oh and a popcorn manufacturer from miles and miles away. They support the local cricket club, and choose a local hospice to give all the proceeds to.

I feel I've already over hyped this event, but I haven't even started. I haven't even given you the greatest part of this event. I did say there would be no surprises, but I need to tease you in for a boom-bash-bish finale too, and this is a real doosie. I would normally run for team derby runner at local, non obstacle related, races. But hairy helmet is a family race. My team is my sister, me, and my two stepsons, Izaak and Rudi. Rudi had to miss out this year due to being out of the country on a French exchange. Luckily a mate stood in for Rudi and we had a full team ready to roll.

When you arrive on site the meadow is buzzing with people eating burgers and hot dogs, chatting, warming up, talking tactics, and pinning race numbers on. It's does take long to before you immerse yourself into a conversation about pace, overtaking opportunities and baton change overs. However it wasn't long before the start and everyone was gathering at the start line. The pack was hilarious, with people politely, and sometimes humorously impolitely, adjusting there position in the pact to reflect there intended position.

'Whoa, what are you doing here? get to the front with the rest of the Kenyans'
'Oi, asthma boy! Get ya' sen behind us, you'll only slow us down'
'Don't mind you being behind me, but just don't run over the top me at the first corner'

The air horn blasted, and drowned out all the jibes and jeering, I was sitting on the outside, and quite near the back of the pack, so I made a 50 metre sprint round the outside looking for open space, and a clear path. The hairy helmet course has hairpins, hills, grass, tarmac, gravel paths and muddy paths, so you never have the chance to get into a rhythm, or settle in. You never pick up a running buddy, as everyone has strengths and weaknesses and you loose and gain places with every turn, or change in gradient or terrain.

2.2 miles is such a hard distance, too far too go all out, too short to try and be clever with negative splits and intricate pacing. 2.2 miles is 'go as fast as you can until it hurts, and then try and ignore the pain and taste of blood in your mouth, and then try for a sprint finish without throwing up'. It's not a classic tactic you read about in Steve Cram's autobiography, but it is familiar tactic to most hairy helmet entrants.

Once I had negotiated the 2 miles, and just had the final meadow loop and handover to complete. I was feeling terrible, everything hurt, but you have to finish strong in front of the crowds and fellow runners. Luckily Izaak was in bright orange, and easy to spot in the exchange area, I passed the baton on and collapsed in a heap on the floor. Done. I can now relax and watch other people's suffering from the comfort of my grass lined boudoir.

As promised earlier on, here is that ram-a-lam-a-ding-dong finale. Free beer. Yup a beer token for every member of the team. Forget protein shakes, chocolate milk, or steamed fish and bagels, a nice drop of real ale is just what you need to recover after a 2 and bit mile race. Oh wait, Izaak is only 16, better be a responsible parent and drink his beer too. Along with the, 'hey Andy, I've got to shoot off, do you want my token?'