Should you panic if your left leg goes numb? If it’s your arm I understand you should probably dive headfirst into an ambulance, but your leg?
Not only was my entire left leg dead after 4km but I also began to deeply regret avoiding the spread of Vaseline around my nether regions.
Desperate for hope I dived at a volunteer handing out bottles of water. Ah, the refreshing burst of Aqua!
Unfortunately trying to breathe deeply whilst swallowing is never a good combination and as the liquid exploded from my lungs and showered unfortunate runners around me, as I also realised how much I needed to wee.
So half paralysed with burning bum cheeks I stumbled forward choking whilst trying not to wet myself – not the race of which I had dreamed.
I was saved, inspired if you will, by a gentlemen aged around 60 who avoided my flailing, chafing figure and darted past into the distance.
His body was misshapen by time and he carried a big bouncy belly with consummate ease.
His knees were strapped like a twisted orthopaedic experiment and a red sweat band strained around his big, bald head.
If this wondrous man could haul his impressive figure forward then so could I!
Rejuvenated by the bald eagle I powered up hills, down slopes and through bends – running back towards Ludlow.
My leg was still numb but the endurance training I had completed around Shrewsbury was paying off. The 12k route was also beautiful and the view over Ludlow near the race’s climax was incredible.
The fantastic volunteers from Severn Hospice lining the roads were also amazing clapping and cheering as I made the tortuous ascent into Ludlow itself, having lost many of the runners around me.
There was just me, an OAP and a middle aged woman trudging the last 400 meters to the castle through the centre of town.
I would like to say I relaxed and crossed the line with these two fellow heroic athletes, hugged them, kissed them and raised their hands aloft.
If however, you saw a maniacal madman dressed in black kicking and punching these unfortunate creatures out of the way then you should note, it was almost defiantly not me.
I managed to finish the race on September 23 in 144th place out of 227 runners in a time of 1hr 14min 19sec.
It was a great day raising cash for Severn Hospice and I would like to thank everyone involved in organising such a great event.
Crossing that line under the ancient castle gates was a wondrous feeling. During the past two months I had completed about 30km of training, lost 1stn 4lbs, cut down on boozing, smoking and generally being a layabout slob.
I proved to myself that a desk bound keyboard basher was perfectly capable of finding the time to train and diet within a reasonably hectic life.
Now I need to take my own advice and set a new goal - it would be tragic to undo all the good work by piling back on the pounds. Whatever happens I’m pleased to have been part of something bigger than myself and raising cash for such a great cause.
I’m sure I’ll come up with something spectacular within the next few months, until then fatty, or should that be fitty, out!
By Peter Finch