Sometimes you only realise you’ve done something stupid when it’s already too late. Like entering the so-called Mad Maldon Mud Race. This year’s event, across the River Blackwater and back in front of a crowd of 10,000 at Promenade Park, took place this morning.
It was so cold. We arrived an hour and a half early, and even then we weren’t the first. As we stood on the icy riverbank looking back at the frozen boating lake, we were both very glad that we wouldn’t be plunging into the river like the 250 competitors mad enough to have signed up for this year’s event.
Now in its 36th year, it’s a big charity fund-raiser, and it attracts TV coverage from around the world. Japanese TV is a regular fixture, and dad says he always sees it on French TV in the new year under a snooty ‘only the Brits…’ banner.
As with many of these things, it started out as a dare that got out of hand. A local resident challenged the pub landlord to serve lunch on the opposite bank of the river. He did it, it was a success, and the following year he set up a bar on the spot. 20 locals dashed across for a drink, gulped it down and ran back through the river.
A tradition was born.
The course itself is very short, and if you’re at the front of the pack you can make it across and back in about five minutes. If you’re not, though, the ground quickly gets churned up and anyone 20 or so back in the pack quickly stops being a runner and starts being a wader.
That hour and a half we waited went surprisingly quickly, despite the number of times we looked at our watches, and the 40 minutes it took the slowest competitors to finish shot by. As ever, some barely got beyond the water’s edge on their first crossing, and 45 minutes after the tape was raised they were being hauled out of waist-deep mud by men with ropes and carried back to the start.
It was only as we started walking back to the car that we realised quite how cold we were. Our legs had stiffened up, our toes were numb, and our fingers were red raw from where we’d taken off our gloves to use our cameras.
It was a fun morning out, but it did nothing to convince us that we should be taking part next year, and we happily retreated to the car for grey tea from our flask, half a Twix, and the warm embrace of the heater.
