Although 2 hours and 20 minutes was a very disappointing time for the Great North Run, I suppose it has to be seen in light of the ankle sprain only 10 days before the race. My physio, the estimable Mr Betts, did laugh when I told him we intended to run. Indeed, given we had raised the monies required, we couldn't let down the puppies at the Blue Cross.
We managed to run 9.5 miles in 90 minutes, which given the ankle and the numbers of runners, wasn't bad. But the pain meant a long walk through South Shields to the end. It was made more entertaining by the crowd who offered gifts. Two old ladies offered us a dry digestive biscuit and a Mars bar. I doubt Paula, who pipped us narrowly, has considered this as part of her in-race diet.
