The kindness of strangers

I've learned a great deal this weekend. One was to be open when people ask questions. We had a lovely lunch in the local Italian restaurant on Saturday and, as we were leaving, a grandfatherly gentleman praised the drawing that O (5) had been working on. He asked me what we were celebrating. And instead of saying, oh, just life, I took a deep breath and said, 'I got a last minute place on the Silverstone half-marathon tomorrow.'

'What on earth are you doing that for?' he asked. And instead of telling the truth, which is that I haven't got the foggiest idea, especially as my training runs are getting slower and slower and I am getting less and less convinced that I can actually do this, I said, 'I'm hoping to complete the London Marathon in April.'

He asked whether it was just for me or whether I was raising money for something. And I explained, and not only did he give me a fiver then and there, he told his friend all about it and he gave me a fiver too. So thank you, random elegant grandfatherly gentlemen, for your interest at least as much as for the money. And the same goes for my new blog follower - five now no less! - who alone justifies the existence of the Internet in terms of the boost her interest has given me.

I've also learned that I cannot run eleven minute miles for very long. Silverstone was my first ever real race. I thought I'd be able to keep up with the slowest pacing group, but no. At only six miles the beast of light-headedness descended and no amount of jelly babies could shift it. At nine miles, James waved at me and I went over to tell him I wasn't having a good time. 'I know,' he said, and pushed me back in to the race.

And, at ten miles, I learned I need to eat lunch. I'd thought the race started at ten; when I checked the details last night I found it started at twelve, and I never really absorbed that change. I ate breakfast, we set off at half past nine, got stuck in the approach traffic and then got so involved in working out where to go and what to do that somehow it was twelve and I was lined up to start and I hadn't even thought about food.

I limped home in 2 hours and 52 minutes. Not my finest hour. I was beaten by two men carrying a surfboard between them, a gladiator and Sonic the hedgehog. And an octogenarian. I did come in ahead of a giraffe and Katie Price though (hope she made it, we'd been running alongside on and off for almost the entire race but she left the track with a bad knee at 12 miles). And I did limp home, I've got a medal hanging on the bathroom mirror to prove it.