The race isn't difficult to find. From half a mile away, I can hear more than 100 dogs barking near the start line. I’m late. Racing with my dog is already proving more complicated than just throwing on my trainers. I couldn’t work out what I’d need – towels, water, food, poo bags, treats, harness, lead, anything else? We arrive 15 minutes before the race is due to start. I grab my number and harness us together in our hands-free Canicross kit – then realise I need the loo, which turns out to be far more difficult than usual with my race partner attached to my hips.
I’ve come to Gatton Park in Reigate with my three-year-old cavapoo, Luna, for our first Canicross trail race. It’s raining. I’ve put Luna in her fleece coat. She’s got cold in the past on some of our longer runs. But do you race with a dog in a coat? As we line up at the start, I quickly realise the answer is definitely no, and whip it off to save her blushes. We’re surrounded by dozens of dogs, most of them majestically athletic and three times the size of mine.
They set us off in waves to control the chaos. She may be small, but once we’re away, Luna gives me a good pull. There are spaniels, a beagle, a sheepdog, lots of pointers, but no other poodles in sight. Most of these dogs have long legs, which I soon discover will serve them well in the thick mud. After our chaotic arrival, the race feels pretty relaxed once we get going. The pressure is off. This is all about the dog, not how I’m running.
Canicross racing has been growing steadily in the UK for the past 20 years. And British dogs and their humans are getting rather good. The world champion, Ben Robinson, is British. The 35-year-old is a fast runner anyway, with a 14:29 5K PB. But last year, he and his
dog Zuma posted a blistering 11:56 5K on Strava, with the dog turbo charging him along. That’s 39 seconds faster than the (dogless) world record track time set by Uganda’s Joshua Cheptegei. Another British champion is 54-year-old Cushla Lamen. She runs 5K in under 16 minutes with her European sled dogs, which she refers to as ‘the Ferraris’. If she were running on her own, she tells me, she’d struggle to break 20 minutes.
Thousands of people are doing Canicross now, and around 70% of them are women. ‘You never talk about yourself,’ says Cushla. ‘You’re always talking about the dog. It takes the emphasis off you as a person and you’re then talking about the journey you’re on with your dog. I think a lot of women find that empowering. And it makes them feel less self-conscious.’ Cushla started out as a road racer. She’d lost her love of running completely before she discovered the joy of running with a dog. ‘The focus goes off times. You’re not constantly looking at your watch. You’re looking at your dog and at what’s around you.’
Two laps of Gatton Park and Luna and I are now closing in on the finish. I’m ankle-deep in mud. She now looks like a ginger rat. But still, she keeps pulling. We finish mid-pack and a long way off my 10K PB. But we do both get medals, as well as human and dog treats to aid with the recovery. Luna’s legs may be short and caked in mud, but she’s clearly loved her race. Though I may need to borrow one of Cushla’s Ferraris if I’m going to start breaking any PBs.
