Rain. Sleet. Wind. Hail. And Hills. Marvelous

You know, when I grow up I'm going to be a weather forecaster.

Those of you who checked my notes last week will know that I confidently predicted that the weather on Sunday in the south east of England would be cold, miserable and wet.

Well, I was right.

A bit.

It was more than that. It was chuffing cold, chuffing miserable and chuffing wet I’ll tell you!

Each time I've ventured into Caravan County and wandered down to Dover for their half marathon, I've ended up soaked and frozen to the bone. And it was no different on Sunday. A light drizzle and cold wind just before the start gave way to torrential rain, hailstone and sleet - and then we had a gale blowing in from the channel. Which is all very well - but then I had to run up hills as well.

But this kiddie is nothing if not resilient and I fought my way through the field to finish underneath my target time of 2.05 - but agonisingly short of another sub 2 hour jobbie. Which would have been a marvellous performance on this course in these conditions. In fact I managed 2 hours and 48 seconds which, considering it took me almost 30 seconds to cross the start line was a performance that will have had the Ethiopians and Kenyans dobbing themselves. And do you know, just to make it worse - not one of them showed up to test themselves against me or the elements. And that just proves my point that some of these elite athletes have grown just a tad too big for their spikes.

Sure, we can all do these luxury, big ticket events - your New Yorks, Paris and London events. But it's in the dark waters of southern England where men are men and boys are left behind the bushes. And that's why this kiddie here will always be there at these marvellous events. Not only is it great for the soul - its good too to let your public see you.

To be fair there weren't many of my public out watching Sunday's race - and even if there had been I wasn't getting out of the Allegro until I absolutely had to. Nope, Sunday was one of those days when the warm-up was an extra notch on the car heater.

But after Dover, I do feel that I'm getting my stamina and strength together OK. The old war wound of an injury is being nursed by my medical team and, apart from a couple of twinges here and there it seems to be standing up to scrutiny.

Having told you about my magnificent pre-race diet of beans I must admit to trying something else last weekend. A Dupiazza on Friday evening, accompanied by a couple of Leffes, was followed by a Saturday evening supper of Steak and Kidney Pudding. But don't go thinking for a minute that my standards are slipping - it was just a bit of an awkward weekend for sticking to the rabbit food - and you can rest assured that the old regime will be followed closely this week.

Well apart from a couple of days when I pop off to Brussels.

Anyway, training-wise, I've a light session tomorrow followed by a gigantic leap of faith - I've got to get a 16 mile run under my belt and that will probably have to be on Friday. Can't wait!

And then this weekend I'm back to Caravan County for a bash at one of those piddling 10Ks in Ashford.

So, I’ll be back later in the week to let you know how I get on – and I’ll let you have a butchers at the correspondence with Max Clifford and Sue Barker at Question of Sport.

Till then, enjoy the weather.

Keep on tapering.


Ron