Our cross country route took us past a disused railway track which led to my home a few hundred yards away. My friends and I would volunteer for cross country runs, much to the horror of our PE teacher who hated accompanying us and preferred to stay inside the warm gym coaching badminton. So we would splash along the disused railway line, head to my home, and drink coffee all afternoon.
The plan backfired in the end. Knowing how keen we were for cross country running, the PE teacher kindly submitted our names for the county cross country championship. It was hell.