SPEN(T)!

Woah. That was brutal - not only had I forgotten the route, I'd also forgotten how tough it is!

After our early night, we were up at 6.40am for our pre-race porridge ritual, before the brief drive down to Spen to meet Rob Moon.

It was almost a perfect running morning, that is apart from the brisk, bone chilling wind. However, the sun was out and we'd got work to do!

Our other Spen mate, Neil, decided to join us for part of the route, stating that he'd bail out after about 10 miles. Very tempting, I thought, as we set off.

The Spen 20 route is essentially a convoluted figure of eight, with a total of 1150ft of ascent, which starts and ends at the Princess Mary Stadium - the home of Spen A.C. The event itself begins and ends on the track but, as the track was locked, we started on the road outside and set off up the long drag to Scholes.

The first ten miles were a relative breeze and it was nice to run at a pace that allowed conversation on such a gorgeous day. The only small hiatus was Sam's desire to stop for a wee at eight miles, which resulted in us all getting really cold very quickly.

Then my toes started hurting! A really odd, annoying, niggling pain that wouldn't go away, despite wriggling them the best I could when each foot was off the ground. Alas, it didn't work, so I resorted to distraction tactics, the primary one being trying to keep up with Rob who'd blasted ahead into the distance!

The second tactic was to consult my new Garmin and see how far I'd gone, what pace I was doing and, theoretically at least, how long I'd got left to go.

So, with focus renewed, I ploughed onwards back to Spen and was later pleased to note that I even managed to clock a sub-eight minute mile between 18 and 19 miles.

When I got back, the track was open so I took the chance to do a couple of laps to make up the distance and ensure that the full 20 was covered.

Oddly, Sam was not back yet, even though she was only a couple of hundred yards behind me as I put my foot down coming back along Headlands Road. So, slightly worried, but not enough to prevent me from scoffing a Snickers bar, I jumped in the car and retraced the route in an attempt to find her. After the first loop, there was no sign of her and I was starting to get worried - it may have been the Snickers giving me the energy to be more worried? Then Rob called me to say that he'd not tracked her down either and my mind started working over time, with injury/abduction/accident theories! Damn you, energy giving Snickers!

Thankfully, a few minutes later, Rob called to say that Sam was safely back at club, having missed the last turn down Knowler Hill and had added an additional mile to the distance for her troubles!

So, after a bit of a squabble about the relative merits of remembering the route on the journey back (during which Sam threw a semi-eaten Double Decker out of the car window in half-arsed rage), it was a welcome relief to get home, get the kettle and sausages on and then jump in a freezing cold bath! I was a total wimp and managed about two minutes, whereas Sam was much tougher and lasted nearly ten!

The rest of the day was spent on the settee, eating lots, with the six nations on the box and a couple of medicinal cans of Guinness on the go - perfect!

So, that's it; we're half way there - eight weeks done on our 16 week plan. I reckon the next eight are going to be rock solid and our already tired legs are going to get even more worn out. However, victory is in sight and there is no way I'm going to allow myself to feel like I did last year when I lined up at the start - injured, in pain and under-prepared.

I repeat: victory is in sight!