There's no way on God's clean earth I'd ever have even considered signing up to take part if my darling daughter hadn't volunteered me. Can't believe I've been bulldozed into this.
The dog ate my trainers? Sprained ankle? Sudden sickness bug? Flee the country and hide somewhere in Outer Mongolia?
All the other mums and dads have probably been roped in too and are feeling the same way. How hard can it be to jog 200 metres to put a smile upon my little girl's face? It might even be fun?
Erm. Why is everyone dressed as if they are in the Olympics? Why am I the only one in normal clothes and box fresh trainers?
Are they doing burpees? Erm - why are they all clutching one leg?
Maybe I should join in? If I jump up and down a bit I might look like I am a serious mummy athlete too.
Ground. Swallow. Me. Now.
We all remember the legendary year where Evie T's mum came a cropper and face planted it half way down the track. That poor woman was the laughing stock of the playground for months.
I did used to be quite fast at school though. Remember the year I won the 200 metres sprint? I was like that bloke in Chariots of Fire (except obviously not a bloke, and it wasn't as far and wasn't on a beach and the stirring music wasn't playing...) But hey, I might actually find I am still fast and win this thing. Imagine.
My school days were over 20 years ago. And, considering the last time I ran was to catch a bus, which nearly killed me, winning doesn't seem likely. But imagine the humiliation if I come last? Can't let this happen.
WHAT? Wait a minute. I wasn't ready. Where did they go? Help.....They're bloody miles away.
OK - just go. I'm doing it, I'm running. I haven't fallen over. I'm running, I'm running.
I'm going to collapse. I feel like my lungs are burning. I can't carry on.
You know, like people do in marathons. Except I've only run a few metres. Better just keep running.
The rest of the parents are all just a blur of neon lycra, miles away in the distance. Did someone move the finish line?
The whole school is now cheering on just me as I complete the last third of the track on my own and limp towards the finish line. So humiliating.
Seriously. I've done my bit now - haven't I? I. Deserve. Chocolate. Lots of it!
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