It was only meant to be a small depression but after failing to find the bloody thing it turned into a great depression. It swept over me as I failed to locate control 23 - the last one - and supposedly in a small depression. To be fair I was fair given up by then anyway after failing so epically to find control 22. Up to that point I was actually having one of my best orienteers ever. But I'm getting ahead of things.
I decided to go long and hard - ooh matron - and set out on the brown course. There wasn't really much to report for controls 1 to 21. I maybe made a few less than optimum route choices but I used the features well. I'm really starting to relate all the subtle shades and markings to the features on the ground. I probably ran half the course without looking or needing the compass and just using the features. It was all going so well...
I was round to control 21 in 1 hour and 37 minutes. That only left 22 and 23 and no more than 500m to run... Cue operation right royal f$^% up. I don't think I could have possibly run it worse than I did. The rain had made ditches look like streams but that's no excuse and basically I lost it. Call me Mr Angry. If the course planner had popped out of the undergrowth at that point I think I'd have given him a Glasgow kiss. After having spent more than twenty minutes to dib out 22 I then spent another eight minutes on the final one. Angry? I was fuming.
What should have been no more than an hour and forty five turned into two hours and seven. That is my biggest orienteering failure to date. Out of the jaws of a reasonable run I snatched possibly my worst. And worse still I ripped my pants. My nice expensive compression leggings don't give so much compression in the arse area any more.
Trying to take away something positive from today's debacle I am at least starting to show signs of being an orienteer rather than just a navigator. Still waiting for my first ballsup free run...
Right, now where's the duct tape, I've me some compression leggings to repair...
And don't laugh too hard or you might get hurt - I, uh mean, you might hurt yourself...
I decided to go long and hard - ooh matron - and set out on the brown course. There wasn't really much to report for controls 1 to 21. I maybe made a few less than optimum route choices but I used the features well. I'm really starting to relate all the subtle shades and markings to the features on the ground. I probably ran half the course without looking or needing the compass and just using the features. It was all going so well...
I was round to control 21 in 1 hour and 37 minutes. That only left 22 and 23 and no more than 500m to run... Cue operation right royal f$^% up. I don't think I could have possibly run it worse than I did. The rain had made ditches look like streams but that's no excuse and basically I lost it. Call me Mr Angry. If the course planner had popped out of the undergrowth at that point I think I'd have given him a Glasgow kiss. After having spent more than twenty minutes to dib out 22 I then spent another eight minutes on the final one. Angry? I was fuming.
What should have been no more than an hour and forty five turned into two hours and seven. That is my biggest orienteering failure to date. Out of the jaws of a reasonable run I snatched possibly my worst. And worse still I ripped my pants. My nice expensive compression leggings don't give so much compression in the arse area any more.
Trying to take away something positive from today's debacle I am at least starting to show signs of being an orienteer rather than just a navigator. Still waiting for my first ballsup free run...
Right, now where's the duct tape, I've me some compression leggings to repair...
And don't laugh too hard or you might get hurt - I, uh mean, you might hurt yourself...
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