Anyone who knows me, knows that Middle Distance events are NOT my favourite. Not so much because of the navigation, but because they often involve lots of scrambling in and out of erosion gullies or sliding down rubble-strewn slopes.  For years, I have toughed it out by entering my “A” age group for Middle Distance – which often turns out to be further than my corresponding “A Short” age group for Long Distance – then spending twice as long as everyone else scrapping my way around.

This year I decided no more! I’m wimping out and entering A Short (though for Sprints I will always enter A, even when AS is an option).  So I duly signed up for a whole 1.3 kms, with 40 metres of climb – the shortest of all the Hard courses on offer. I figured even I couldn’t spend more than an hour on 1.3 kms.

I lined up at the start with my fellow wimps – I know the other Women AS competitors pretty well by now.  I took my place behind the map box, waiting for that moment when you turn over the map and your heart sinks as you try to make sense of the overload of information you need to absorb as quickly as possible.  Phew! I realised my first control was pretty simple – head due south, look for some fenced open land, then a track, and my control should be in a small clearing just beyond.  I ducked in a bit early and was confronted with a large fallen tree – retreat and reapproach from another angle.  Got it! A bit of time wasted though.

Next – back across the cleared land, through the fence, and diagonally down through some scrubby veg to find a pit just under a convenient power line.  Swing a little left, there it is.  Down the hill to a track, cross that and head to the creek for no 3. I spot a bridge, check the map, and work out the likely location of my control – squeezed into a narrow defile between two mounds which are more like cliffs.  So far so good.

Back to the track and along to another small bridge, where I pull up and start looking to my left.  Spot the flag and clamber down, where I meet Pete, who is a bit geographically disadvantaged at this point.  Punch and out.  One of my competitors asks me what number the control is, as she cant see from her higher position.  I tell her “climb down and look for yourself”.  She gives me a smile as if to say “it was worth a try”. No hard feelings.

Scramble out and onto an open grassy area.  No 5 is just the other side of a small watercourse. I spot it, punch, and move on to no 6.  I am starting to feel pretty good about this – but no 6 looks quite tricky.  I ignore all the minute detail and just set my compass until I can see the distinctive track bend that will give the control away.  Ah, there it is tucked into that little cleft, just out of sight.  I sneak in, punch, and get away quickly, hoping my rivals havent noticed.  A short scramble uphill to no 7, then on the home stretch to no 8.  I havent had time to check my watch but I think I’ve been out for about 25 minutes.

I’m running hard now along the finish chute, into the arena.  God its a long way to that final bend!  I cant afford to slow down though, so I put my head down, suck in some air, and keep going.  Punch – finish!

I download – yep, 25 minutes.  I am very happy with that time, but how will it stack up against the others?  I watch the results board – I’m second, but soon someone finishes with a quicker time, and I’m third.  Will I hold onto my placing?  A few anxious moments waiting for the rest of the field to finish – yes! they are all below my time and I have clinched third place!

Sometimes the orienteering gods smile on you, and give you a good day.  It happens just often enough to keep you coming back. More importantly than the result, I had a good clean run and thoroughly enjoyed myself.  You can’t ask for more.