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On sunday, I entered the Great South Run (again).

Last year, Geth and Sam had come down from Birmingham ’cause Sam had an entry, so we all went out the night before, had several bottles of wine and laughed at Sam for having to abstain. The next morning, for some inexplicable reason, I decided I’d accompany sam, and we completed the course one second under 100 minutes.

This year I was planning on manning a water station, but just over a week before the race I was offered a place by one of Em’s volleyball team mates, who had entered the race before the years volleyball fixtures were published. They clashed. So I got the benefit.

Three things went my way on the morn of the race. Firstly, local knowledge meant I was able to avoid the traffic that was trying to get to Southsea. Secondly, having a Smart Car meant I could find a parking spot outside of the traffic melee but very close to the race. Thirdly, being a veteran of three Great North Runs, a London Marathon and a couple of other races, I now have a good idea of where to stand at the start to get a good time.

I made my way towards the orange zone, which was the first wave of runners to be let through the start, and was bimbling through there when I heard clive shout my name, or more precidely, when I heard clive shout “Bloody hell Rich what are you doing up there?” A reference to the fact that I was mingling rather close to the elite runners. Clive was inspired and joined me. We ended up with quite a few Portsmouth Joggers in a little huddle. and when the gun went, it took us only 14 seconds to cross the start.

The race itself, well, I could write about it, but that’s just plodding really. It was nice to run past HMS Victory, and for the record, I think the course differed from last year because it seemed to go further along Winston Churchill Avenue, but after that it was a plod. Mat’s mate Nuk caught up with me as we passed the Natural History Museum, so we chatted for a minute or so, and before i knew it, it was the last mile and I was pushing for home.

So, my time. A new personal best, hurrah! (although based on last year’s run I’d have had to drink a fair bit the night before to avoid a PB! And by dint of the borrowed number, my benefactor became the nineth fastest female runner (erm… sorry to other female veteran runners who have a lower position because of this - the good news is that you can take one away from your race position)