Flinging myself down a muddy hill for the second time on Saturday morning, the £25 pair of spikes I’d bought just days before were proving a sound investment. The marshal at the bottom of the hill shouted out ‘Sharp right turn’ as my legs struggled to go any direction other than forwards.

The metal spikes under my toes dug in and I managed to avoid a tree and turn right. A much more experienced runner running without spikes would later tell me how he managed to faceplant that tree twice.

The Met League race at Claybury marked the first cross country race of the season. It’s been a long time since I’ve run a cross country race and on Saturday I turned up with the Serpentine Ladies to compete on beha

lf of my club. I’ve met a fair few lovely people through running over the years and dragged a few more friends into the sport, so turning up at a race with a group of runners isn’t entirely new. But pulling on a club vest and competing as part of a team was.

‘Competing’ is the important word of the day. There was no clock at the race start/finish, and many of the runners (myself included) were running without a watch. Because unlike marathons or 10ks, cross country isn’t about time or clocking up a new PB. It’s a true race between you and those around you. Points are awarded to the teams based on where members finish, so overtaking members of other teams is more important than mile splits.

Which is lucky, because my mile splits weren’t that fast and besides, the muddy trails, the uphills and the ‘mind-that-tree’ downhills would have made it impossible to judge how fast or slow I should be going. But shouting ‘Go Serpie’ as members of my team passed me and trying to overtake those who weren’t wearing red and yellow made it a really fun race and the 6km seem to go by pretty fast.

Despite the competitive element, there was a friendly atmosphere to the day. And when I finally did finish, there was a sea of cake baked by various members of the team to tuck into. As I texted Katie soon after: “I’ve run for less than half an hour and now people keep handing me cakes. Forget marathons, cross country is where it’s at.”