It was the Bradford City Run this morning, essentially a test event for next year's inaugural Bradford City Marathon.
As well as a two-mile fun run for kids, the adults had an option to tackle either five miles or ten miles. And being a man (GRRR!!!) my original plan had been to compete at the longer distance.
But then nature intervened - or, more specifically, my sciatica plus a damaged Achilles tendon - leaving me with little option but to cut my losses in terms of missed training and settle for entering the five-miler instead.
And I did OK. I'm not a natural distance runner by anyone's stretch of the imagination, but I somehow managed to stumble over the line in 17th place out of 258 finishers with a time of 35 minutes and 53 seconds.
Most importantly, I won a medal to give to Jamie - once I'd finally found him and his mother wandering around Centenary Square.
Such is the level of awe and reverence in which I am held by the two of them, that they didn't actually bother to witness my moment of athletic glory. They were too busy drinking coffee and eating cookies in Starbucks.
Maybe next time.
Well Done Barry!
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