BoPeepHashgate Bruce SSTI Wetnurse Cap’n Haystax Spunky Rawhide Dwight Wally Scrumper Steamer C5 Sue5 Spot Amanda Lynda Centaur Flash Foghorn Mrs. Foghorn Mother Foghorn Chopstix Buffalo PonyExpress NewburyBrian MacRib HairyMary Dominic Simon James Hamlet Whinge Bomber Tom Potty Nutcracker Cheryl BGB Baldrick Keith Sandra Liz Iceman Pieman GBH Spex Phil Jackie Karen Khazi Tweenie Emma Itsyor Le Voisin et chien Mr and Mrs Blobby Circle Mr. Mainwaring Squelchy Zebedee Florence TT2 Lonely Beaver Cap’n Y-Fronts OldFart Whinge Utopia Linda Jenny Maika Marion Stretchmarks Cheating Maneater Anorak Trainspotter 2Bob Puddleduck HoneyAnt Dumper Septic Richard Magic Honeymonster - if I have missed anyone I apologise

As you can see from the list above hundreds of people turned up. Quite amazing – the one Hash where you are supposed to race rather than wander about admiring the foliage and there you all are!

Well, my pre-race concentration was shattered as soon as I arrived when Wetnurse and Bruce informed me that HandbagBitch was indisposed due to haemorrhoids. Personally, I can’t see why he couldn’t Hash with a small wheelbarrow attached discreetly to the rear, but some are a martyr to these things, aren’t they? Things got worse when Rawhide tried to run us over while parking. And then I realised that I wouldn’t really be able to run and speak into a tape machine. So now you know this Gobsheet is pure fabrication!

BoPeep, C5 and Zebedee had erected a very official-looking table with lots of numbered labels on and various Hashers alternately gawped, trying to make sense of anything numeric, or, like newish people Liz and Sandra stood aghast at the thought of having to walk (let alone run) about nine kilometres. Let me tell you, there was some real panic there for those who had not done a (totally mis-named) Fun Run before. [For those of you who don’t know, the annual Fun Run is a race of about 10ish kilometres. The trail is clearly marked and has no checks or bars. Hashers start the race at intervals in time-handicapped groups that are dependant on ability or BoPeep beer bribery. Thus, the slowest start first and the nutters fastest start twenty minutes or more later….and try to catch up.]

So, unusually enough, warming up was the order of the day. We should have been sponsored by Rice Crispies given the amount of snap, crackle and popping going on. Hamstrings that had been as slack as perished rubber bands were stretched tight as a nun’s knicker elastic. You could have played ‘em like a double bass. Qaudriceps groaned and strained as their owners stood on one leg, pulled the other up to the back of their neck, then let go and waited for the pendulum effect to die down. Ancient knees creaked like the doors of haunted houses as their owners slowly squatted (some for the first time in years) until they snapped like pistol shots, frightening wood pigeons the other side of the Common. The problem here, of course, was that these ‘athletes’ could not then rise and had to be hauled off, still in the squatting position. Some of the FRBs ponced about; Centaur trotting across the grass, Dwight prancing balletically, Greenfly flitting insectlike from one blade of grass to another. Of course the most noticeable person was Whinge, moaning like a good ‘un that his time handicap was far too much and even attempting to rewrite the number of minutes on his running number! If ever a Hasher was aptly named it is he.

So the first knot of runners began to assemble, their eagerness apparent for all to see as BoPeep wished them well and Zebedee counted down the seconds on his Mickey Mouse watch. …4..3..2..1 and they were off! With all the lissom speed of a drunk waking up in the gutter and deciding it’s time to stagger home, the group meandered purposefully off down the trail. A couple of groups later and there was some vague effort at jogging, although you knew that, once out of sight round the corner, out would come the Woodbines and the whole lot would disappear in a fog of smoke.

The rest of the race I can only describe from my point of view which was one of gasping, wheezing incoherence interspersed with the occasional palpitation and much perspiration. I had been teamed with Lonely and I was really looking forward to the resulting battle (note the heavy use of irony here). Luckily for me, he was running with Beaver, a dog well known for his propensity to inspect anything vaguely interesting en route and a positive mania for finding, and rolling in, any muddy or watery bits. Thus it was that I left ‘em for dead shortly after the start – but not for long. I made the mistake of following Wally in the first wood and the blighter missed a turning. While I checked he went back, found the trail and legged it like a good ‘un in an attempt to lose me! Highly unsporting. It took me a good two minutes to overtake him again and then catch up with a surprised Lonely who "…thought you were in front of me" and nearly got a yellow card for obstruction as I edged past him. Wafting down the woodland track behind the bulging calves of HairyMary I caught the patter of Greenfly’s plimsolls approaching…then he was past. Oh, for a tranquilliser dart. You can never find one when you need one, can you?

Well, people came and went: Liz and Janet, Florence, Puddleduck and 2Bob and HoneyAnt all running well. A couple of steep dips, followed by the even steeper (so it seemed) trail out sorted out a few. I must say everyone very sportingly moved out of the way when they heard the thundering of feet and my manic breathing coming up behind. Except Amanda. The kindly soul (more irony) stood on the downhill slope, arms out wide, just as I got up some gravity-assisted speed. Had she not moved at the last minute she would have been flat on her back in the dust, arms and legs akimbo with me thrashing and panting wildly on the top and Lynda chucking buckets of water over us both. Not a pretty mental picture I’m sure you will agree – but damn funny.

On and on I slogged past Baldrick and Tweenie and Mr. Blobby and God knows who else until Centaur galloped past in that last, nasty, hilly, winding fieldy bit. From here it wasn’t long until I burst out of the woods and used up the last of the energy sprinting towards watchmaster Zebedee and recording angel C5.

I’m sure we would all like to thank BoPeep for terrific organisation. He not only laid an excellent, well-marked trail and raced round it(!), but sorted out the numbers and the water for afterwards and the prizes and the raffle. A rousing BH³ ‘Well done’. We all enjoyed it greatly.

Many thanks to Lonely for the use of his mansion and grounds and also to the various kind souls who helped with the preparation, cooking and doling out of food and drink. (Even Wally was spotted washing up at one point!) If it was down to you chaps that the apres race get together was so successful.

BoPeep officiated today and the fastest ladies and gents were awarded :-