23 October 2016
As Kylie and I strode off across Southsea Common past food vans that made our mouths water and through crowds of other spectators all vying for good positions, I rang Commando. He’d had a head start on the position finding front and told me he was on the opposite side of the common somewhere near mile five, or so he thought. Given the size of the common and the number of people, I wasn’t sure we’d be able to find him. Continue reading Bunny spotting at the Great South Run
26 April 2015
By quarter to twelve, when I finally made it to Tower Bridge, almost three hours after I’d set out, I’d walked eleven or more miles, rather than the seven I’d planned. The noise of the crowds told me I was there before I even saw it and, once I was on the bridge, they got thicker and thicker until I had to literally push my way through. Once or twice I may have mentioned how much I hate crowds. Being short, I can’t see anything and they make me feel panicked and claustrophobic. By the time I got to the other side I was close to tears and disoriented. Continue reading The dash for the finish line