If you have ever met me in person, the word “athlete” is unlikely to have crossed your mind unless it was in the form “Well, he’s no athlete, is he?”
Today I have astonished literally tens of people by copmleting a ten kilometre run.
In truth, I’ve astonished myself too, and yet the medal is definitely real.
I was number 367, which used to be the bus number running through Aldridge from Walsall to Castlefort and back. Coincidentally, I felt about as small and inconspicuous as a bus, and afterwards looked more or less like I’d been hit by one.
This is the first time I ever participated in a sporting event of this kind. Yes, I go to Parkrun in Walsall Arboretum most weeks, but this is the first time I’ve done a “proper” run with a medal and so forth to look forward to at the end.
I ran ten kilometres in 01:18:02 including an unplanned sprint finish.
I’m going to pause for a moment and read that again.
Naturally, we (my brother and I) immediately availed ourselves of the rehydration facilities at the adjacent Stick and Wicket. You can see my pint of mild in the bottom right corner of the photo. I still contend I’m not a runner.