I always hated running when I was younger - I found it immeasurably dull compared to climbing mountains, playing basketball and drinking beer. Sadly, most of that stopped when we gained a family and I headed slowly towards fully fledged lardarse status. In 2002/03 though, I realised that I needed to do something or else buy several new (larger waisted) pairs of trousers. Nine months later I ran my first half marathon (GNR 03) and realised, to my surprise, that I had actually enjoyed it. I've never looked back since. Obviously, living inthe lake District helps stave off the boredom but its also worth it just for the fun and cameraderie that goes on at races. I'm never going to win anything but who cares?! Having fended off the lardarse status but failed to stop myself ageing altogether, I reckon that I can simply describe myself now as a (not quite completely) knackered old fart.