The last time I took part in an organised run was February 2019. Covid prevented me from taking part in any since then and so it was with great excitement I recently entered a 5K race, organised by a local running club.

A race is always good for focusing your training and to be a part of a big event can be a real boost to your spirits thanks to the camaraderie, the shared objectives and the common interests that all help to give a sense of belonging. Before the pandemic began, I had entered numerous races and knew, from a combination of reading good advice and experience, how to prepare for the day.

However, this time around, for some reason, I seemed to do everything the opposite to what I knew was the right way, starting with the night before. I usually lay my kit out in advance, ready for me to get out of bed in the morning and dress quickly – I didn’t do this as my kit was drying on the maiden. To exacerbate the small delay this caused, I got out of bed way too late, considering the start time.

Having dressed in the clothes I didn’t lay out the night before, I then had breakfast, Depending on the race distance, I usually vary what I have, but this was a 5K and with less than an hour until the gun went off, a big bowl of cereal and a hot cross bun (Easter weekend leftover!) probably wasn’t the best choice and consequently sat heavy in my stomach.

Despite all of this, I left the house with what should have been enough time to get to the start line, check in, collect my race number and complete a few stretches and warm up laps on the track before it started. However, I didn’t account for two things.

Firstly, I am always accompanied to events like this by my biggest fan, my wife. She’s lovely. Having been to the venue numerous times in the past though, I didn’t expect her, therefore, to take a wrong turn and add 10 minutes onto the 20 minute journey. Neither did I expect to spend another 5 minutes looking for a parking space when we arrive – the area in which the race takes places was disproportionately busy for a Sunday morning.

I found myself stripping down to my race clothes in the car as we drove through residential streets, snaking our way to the venue, in order to save time on arrival. I ran from the car and could see the runners lining up at the start line on the track. The stress ramped up further. I headed to the check in desk to find it unstaffed. When I finally found somebody to help me, my wife (who was still parking) wasn’t there to assist with my life’s biggest obstacle – pinning a race number onto a t-shirt. All the time I could hear the race briefing taking pace through a megaphone, in the background.

Finally, timing chip in hand, I ran to the start line to coincide with the race briefing ending with the words ‘Good luck, the gun will go off in 20 seconds’. No time to warm up (although the stress and sprint from the car got the heart rate going), and no time to stretch. I joined the back of the group and bent down to attach my timing chip to my shoe, but everyone started to move forward and so, I settled for winding the cable tie through the chip and around a lace.

The race began and within 50 metres I knew the timing chip would not stay where it was intended, flapping and smacking against my show. I had to stop and quickly and violently ripped it off, resolving to carry it by hand to the finish line.

I started my watch late and I had set off too fast. I thought it was ok because I had started from the back, so it was obvious I’d be overtaking a lot of people, right? I checked my watch for the first time half a mile in and I was running 30secs/mile faster than training and my heart rate was already close to maximum. I tried to compose myself, focusing on my breathing and releasing the stress I’d accumulated.

I started at the back and overtook 60 runners before the finish line. I finished faster than any of my recent training runs suggested I was capable of, but when I crossed the line my timing chip, still in hand, was too high up to register with the sensor. I had to double back and stoop to bring the chip down to the mat. How embarrassing.

I was generally satisfied with my performance but was left with two regrets. I was left wondering what I could have done if I’d prepared properly, arrived in time, warmed up and stretched and started with no stress. I was also remorseful for not being at the start line earlier to absorb the atmosphere at which was essentially my first race since the pandemic. It was supposed to be a milestone that marked hope for the future after a dreadful couple of years. Instead, looking in from the outside, it must have looked like the first race I’d ever done. It certainly won’t be the last though!