“You’re running how far?” Usually when people say this to me it’s with an impressed sound to their voice and I like to do a little, inner, self-satisfied smile. “It’s a half-marathon so 13.1 miles” or “A 10k, so about 6 miles” usually precedes this. Or once “It’s a cross country so just a couple of miles but that will be through rivers, bogs, privet hedges, burning farmyards etc”.

Last week however, people sounded disappointed and even irritated that I’d dared to mention such a trivial amount of exertion. “A mile. As in One mile?” Yes. I did a mile race.

For me, the perfect distance for racing is around 10 miles or a half-marathon. Far enough to be a comfortable level of exertion, but not so far that (like a full marathon) it takes over your year. I don’t like to run shorter distances because it hurts more. To me a 5k isn’t just half the distance of a 10k, it’s double the pain – it’s just over a bit quicker. It’s a choice between a sharp kick in the ribs or a constant punching in the back. What would you go for?

Based on this theory I lined up for my mile race a little apprehensive as to how much it was going to hurt but assured that it would be over in about seven minutes (insert your own sex joke here). I had only two tactics: Run fast without stopping; and start nearer the front than you’re comfortable with as there’s no time for overtaking.

It did hurt. In the course of a mile I went off too fast, slowed down then decided to speed up and overtake a couple of people. A short race, but a completed race all the same. In the end I finished in 6:57. I’ll take that!