That makes it sound like I’ve done loads, doesn’t it? More precisely, I did my second wheelchair half marathon yesterday. It was the Leeds one, a very good, well-organised event. I’ll do it again next year.

I got around the course OK and enjoyed it for the most part, but it was hard work in a wheelchair. The usual combination of bad camber, rough surfaces and relentless uphill bits was the culprit. I’ve promised myself that I’ll stop talking about cambers, so I will. Except to say: fuck them. I know they are needed for drainage but since there will be no more rain in ten years anyway, it would be much more convenient for me if we started building completely flat roads. Could we just do that?

Camber aside, it was a nice course and beautiful weather. There were a lot of people lining the course, giving obviously sincere encouragement. The course wound through residential areas for a long time. This was nice because there were families camped out on the street making a day of it. They were handing out sweets and oranges and high fives and jogging alongside to chat. In my case, they didn’t have to jog very quickly.

One street had a feral gang of little girls with super-soakers offering to squirt anyone who was too hot. Brilliant stuff.

When people talk about how great the crowds are at events like these, I used to think they meant the big, cheering crowds at the beginning and end. But it’s the scattered families and individuals along the way who are just being nice who make it for me. As far as I know, I was the only wheelchair competitor (I saw one other wheelchair, but they were being pushed, which is so cheating) so I got a lot of attention. People really seemed to realise how difficult these bloody things are and meant it when they said I was doing well.

I wasn’t doing all that well, in reality.

I made it in somewhere between three and three-fifteen.This is not a great time; I met people walking back along the course with their completion medals when I was barely 3/4 of the way through. But in my defence I was nowhere near last; we went for a bite to eat afterwards and the tannoy was still announcing finishers while we were eating. The slow bastards 😉

And I have to say: that woman in her 70s with a walking stick who kept overtaking me on hills is now my lifelong nemesis. Next time, walking-stick-lady. Next time.

Except that she was super-nice. As was the blind runner and her guide who offered some friendly rivalry, the startlingly tall man in African tribal gear who sauntered along chatting to everyone and the very sweet two women who did the whole thing, as far as I can tell, without ever letting go of each other’s hand.

Yeah, I’m totally saying that the back is the best place to be.

Thank you so much to everyone who has sponsored me so far. This is not something I do idly, it is really very, very hard work. I do it because the cause is so important: women and girls have always been subject to male violence and never more so than in difficult economic and socially turbulent times. They need immediate help, they need help to get back on their feet and they need ongoing support.

I didn’t push too hard for sponsorship for this particular event because my previous big push for the Sheffield one was so recent. Nevertheless, you have all donated about £2000 for nia so far. Brilliant work, everyone.

And I’m still going. The next event is the Great North Run in September and I’ll be pushing you hard for donations, rest assured.

If you’d like to donate, please do, the link is here. And if you could share the link, that would be great too.