Cross country race meeting.

Well it wasn't so muddy. Two loops of a three kilometre course around the equestrian centre, with a sand obstacle, a couple of low jumps and one splashy section. No hills, so it was a fast course.

Lots of people brought their dogs - wire-haired terriers, labradors, cockers and more all furiously sniffing the ground curiously and wondering what all the horsey smells were about.

It was a cold day and we all needed several layers before and after our relay legs.

It was a mad scramble to get everyone's names onto team sheets and aware of what leg they were running. You always have someone who gets lost on the way or arrives late ar doesn't turn up at all.

This year all went to plan. Men's Division One led after the first runner, but faded to ninth place. Division Five led all the way to record an easy victory as did Division Seven. (These teams may be talented beyond their divisions - it is hard to 'seed' teams as personnel may change from winter to winter - looks like we have more depth in the lower divisions this year.) The women's team numbers were depleted with illness and injury this time round.

Following the last runner hitting the line, afternoon tea ensued with copious amounts of muffins and orange cake being consumed.

After the awarding of pennants, the wind got stronger and we all eventually drifted off home in the fading light to warm baths and steaming hot dinners.

Tomorrow, we run in the mud.

Winter racing season starts tomorrow. After drought conditions for months, the heavens opened last night and it hasn't stopped raining.

The cross-country course will be rivers of mud by 1.30pm tomorrow afternoon.

This will be fun. Everyone is bringing something for afternoon tea which we will eat, steaming from our run and covered in mud.

Off to the vet.

Billy has a sore head and shies away when we go to pet him. The vet says he has a cold. He may also have a kidney problem as he is drinking to excess. The blood test result comes back tomorrow.

Meanwhile, Goldie has a little ... incontinence problem. It's back on the little blue pills for her.

She is also going deaf.

Running on the plateau. And the dog goes wild.

There's a particular kind of joy running through green fields that appear to be at sea level, but then you round a curve or breast a hill and see before you, spread out like a photographic tableau from National Geographic, a vista so amazing you draw an involuntary breath.

Unless you're running so hard, you're already breathing at full capacity.

Which is what I was doing. I was actually chasing a dog. Goldie, Brittany Spaniel and instinctive flusher of game, pointer to rabbits and retriever of ducks, was going totally ape. (Can a dog go 'ape'?)

Running madly across the fields, sniffing a wombat warren here, a rabbit trail there, evidence of kangaroos, wallabies, echidnas and a hundred other creatures. Then there were the grazing cows in the field across the valley, looking like little plastic toys.

At the top of the hill, the view stretched over Wilson's Promontory and the surrounding bay. seemigly hundreds of kilometres of stark, stunning land and seascape. You just gaze at it and wonder at the madness going on in the rest of the world.

Meanwhile, Billy the greyhound just trotted along, hardly looking up. They're supposed to chase rabbits. Yeah, right.

Next day after breakfast, I set off on a nine kilometre run as described by Lisa. Simply follow the road, taking each left-hand turn. You could partially see the route on the perimeter of the valley. First kilometre, slight downhill to the river. Left turn. A rise. Another kilometre to another left turn. Another gradual rise, two kilometres, not too hard. A cheery wave to a passing farmer in his ute, dog on the back tray.

Then another left turn and suddenly, a sharp gradient came into view. This time it kept going. Four kilometres of relentless hill. Just when I thought it couldn't keep rising, another left turn. This was the home stretch, a steep downhill sloughing off all the altitude gained over the course.

I could see the house nestling in the valley and ran towards it, glad the hard part was over.

Four 1500s in the dark.

That's murder on the legs. Run 1500 metres, take a jogged 300 metre break, repeat four times.

This stuff seems a lot harder since daylight saving ended. It's cooler and we're running in the dark.

I got home to be greeted by two wet noses. OK, dogs, a walk around the block will help get the lactic acid out of my legs I guess.