It’s time for the Maldon Mud Races again!

In typically British fashion, the 2008 Maldon Mud Race has just been held – in 2009. Don’t ask me, I’m not the organizers! As the Guardian reports:

Passersby are advised to avoid the pungent sludge of the Blackwater estuary in Essex. “Warning – deep mud,” reads the sign. But yesterday more people than ever ignored the notice and common sense, by slopping through the ooze in the annual Maldon mud race.

“It’s a laugh and it draws a line under Christmas,” said Andy Layley, about to take part in his fourth race, in a blond wig.

The first mud run started in Maldon in 1973 after a convoluted pub dare. More people joined when the landlord promised a free pint to anyone who could cross the estuary and back. There are no longer free drinks, but the race has become a key fixture in the calendar of eccentric English events and it raises tens of thousands of pounds for charity.

By popular demand this year the number of competitors was raised by 70 to a record 250. “We had to turn away almost as many,” said Michael Ballard, secretary of the race, though even he struggled to explain its popularity.

James Bamber, co-author of Wacky Nation, a guide to quirky British events, was one of the 6,000 who turned up to watch the messy spectacle: “The experience is unique. Football matches and theme parks are nothing compared to something like this. It’s totally raw and unforgettable.”

Many competitors race in fancy dress, soon caked in mud. There were lots of pirates and Santas, and a Zorro and Dennis the Menace.

“I do cold water swimming, worm-charming. Anything that gets me cold and muddy and I’ll be there,” said Joel Hicks, a trainee barrister from Leicester dressed as a pink panther.

To try to understand the attraction the Guardian entered the race. The instructions were ominous: get a tetanus jab and tape your shoes to your feet.

The 400-metre course can take up to an hour. Cruelly, the circuit is hardest for the stragglers, as churned-up mud is so much tougher to get through.

“If you spend more than 10 minutes out there the mud really starts to suck the heat out of your body,” Layley said.

The starting hooter prompted a flurry of flailing arms and legs as runners skidded down the bank. There were low groans of pain as the field plunged into the perishingly cold water.

It was chest-high in places and the current alarmingly strong even at low tide. You have to sink your arms deep into the mud to clamber out the other side. Then there’s a punishing crawl across the quagmire of the back strait.

It’s impossible to stay on your feet. You have to grovel on all fours with your nose just above the stench. It smells like a drain blocked with fish and oil.

Then it is back into the Blackwater and a lurch up the bank to the finish line. The mud is everywhere: up your nose, in your ears and in your mouth. The cold showers aren’t much help: the whole event seems geared to hypothermia.

The winner, Stuart Tutt, a 36-year-old IT manager, was still shaking with cold 10 minutes after finishing. “Never again,” was all he could manage to say.

There are plans to increase the number of entrants again next year. Your correspondent will not be one of them. He managed a respectable eighth place, but it was agony.

I hesitate to say that ‘fun’ was had by all – but I’m sure the spectators, at least, enjoyed themselves! According to the Maldon Mud Race official Web site, over £20,000 was raised for charity.

Flickr has a whole lot of photographs of this year’s event. It’s just been put up on YouTube as well.

Sooner them than me!

Peter