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News from Old Girls:  Cross Country Running
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Jo Edwards (in response to Daphne Jones (Drabble), 1958-65)
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Daphne Jones’ article in the last newsletter triggered a memory.  Daphne was a couple of years older than me and I remember her well.  It was her description of cross country running that took me back to my schooldays.  I wonder whether today’s students are allowed to run along quiet country footpaths in navy school knickers and white aertex shirts?  

 

Our route was similar to Daphne’s but, I think, in the opposite direction.  My friend Mo and I were both very good cross country runners.  On cross country run days, we left the school as soon as we could, ran down Norman Way and turned right along Park Road before turning right again into Shady Lane which ran between the CCHS and CRGS playing fields.  On reaching the ‘crossroads’ where one could cross the allotments to the Shrub End section of Norman Way, turn right to Bluebottle Grove or left to Irvine Road, we were supposed to turn right but Mo and I had a very good reason to turn left, and we invariably did.  Why?   Because my grandmother lived in Irvine Road, just by the entrance to the path.  She knew when we were likely to arrive and had drinks and biscuits or cakes waiting for us.  She had been Mo’s first teacher and always enjoyed her visits.  We would sit and chat to Grandma for 20 minutes or so before carrying on with our run back to school via Bluebottle Grove.  Incredibly, we would pass a number of classmates, arriving back at school in reasonable time.  We were never caught!

 

I have clear memories of going for runs with Mo during free periods when we were 6th formers.  The school was extremely strict about girls going off the premises during school hours but, for some inexplicable reason, nobody ever worried about the two of us leaving for a run.  Again, dressed in nothing more than bra, aertex shirt, navy knickers, short white socks and plimsolls, we would run into town and sometimes pop into a shop or two  . As we had our names embroidered in large, brightly coloured, chain stitch letters on our shirts, we were taking an enormous risk but, again, we got away with it.   Mrs Pipe would greet us as we returned to the changing rooms.  ‘Been for a run, girls? Well done!’  If she had but known ….!

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