What was I thinking?

Well really was was I thinking? It seemed such a good idea, back in February, to enter a 10k race in April just before Easter when the possibility of a nice day for it was highly probable.

What I forgot was that it would be directly after lambing when I wouldn't have been to bed before midnight for a month, a month during which I had 'flu for the first time in ages (real proper 'go to bed and hope for the merciful release of an early death' type flu) and encountered medical concern over the state of my thyroid (not my sanity, they don't know about that...)

By last Friday there was no way on earth I would make the race on Sunday and I was making excuses for myself. But then I had a thoroughly good day at fabulous Folly Farm yesterday (I gate crashed a seven-year-old's birthday party because my own seven-year-old had slammed her fingers in a door and wouldn't go without me. I went on the bumper cars and everything. Fantastic! Anyway...) I started feeling better. So I thought I would go, armed with the idea of being prepared for being last.

Me at the start checking I'm starting alongside normal people not the ultra fast ones that look like knotted string.

So this morning I ummed and ahhed a bit about going or not while watching the Chinese Grand Prix but eventually dragged myself out in running gear for the first time in three weeks and drove to the National Botanic Garden of Wales for the race. It was a small field with a very relaxed atmosphere. Nothing high-tech like chip timing, kilometre markers, marshals or manned water stations (actually the water station had a man but he wasn't there when I was).

It was a big looping circuit around the outside of the Botanic Gardens site, almost passing Paxton's Tower which provides incredible views of Carmarthenshire on account of the fact that it is at the top of a huge, long, steep hill. Which we ran up. Great.

The terrain surrounding the botanic gardens is Very Hilly Indeed. I can vouch for that. After a few weeks of not feeling quite well my running batteries were a little flat and when I pressed the accelerator pedal nothing happened. So I plodded along, mostly on my own, quite happily listening to birds and admiring the views of the great glasshouse in the distance, wondering if I would live to see it and how long my husband and kids would wait before giving up on me and going home.

In actual fact I arrived back at the finish line after an hour and ten minutes which is about my time for a relaxed hilly 10k here at home. I wasn't last either, which was nice, and I got a new T-shirt for my efforts.

Water? Yes please!

Yes it was fun although in parts (the hill up towards the turning to Paxton's Tower was one of those parts) I again doubted my sanity. I'm glad I did it and much awe, humongous congratulations and big well dones to everyone who ran the London marathon today too.