There are many ways to spend a weekend. Some people relax. Some catch up on housework. Paula and I? We decided to run a half marathon through a couple of tunnels in 30-degree heat, like dehydrated badgers on a fitness mission.
☕ Saturday: Parkrun, Coffee, and Questionable Optimism
It started calmly, as most questionable decisions do—with a gentle 5K at Tamar Lakes. I cruised it. Sensible. Controlled. Paula? Full beast mode. She tore round like someone had promised her a medal and a mojito at the finish line. I’m starting to suspect she’s powered by rocket fuel and revenge.
Post-run ritual: sweaty shuffle through the funnel, then coffee and chat with the other runners. Sacred. But we didn’t linger—madness awaited.
🚐 Wilko Hits the Road
Armed with caffeine and questionable optimism, we loaded up Wilko and hit the road to Bath. Like all serious athletes, we stopped at the services for a Costa and a blank stare into the void.
We headed to Lansdown Park & Ride—the only one near Bath without height restrictions. Wilko is a beast, and low barriers are his nemesis. £2.50 for the night. Bargain. We parked by a hedge and settled in like wild but oddly domesticated hobbits.
Paula whipped up dinner like a camp chef legend. I sorted the van: chairs swivelled, Wi-Fi on, telly rigged, blackout curtains installed. Pure luxury. Everything we needed in one metal box. Bliss.
☀️ Sunday: The Race of Fire
We woke to a glorious morning full of pre-race nerves and fake enthusiasm. The race didn’t start until 12:20pm—a time clearly chosen by a sadist. We bussed into town, found the runners’ village, and spent hours defending shade like territorial meerkats.
Then came the warm-up. In the blazing sun. While already overheating. Genius.
🕳️ Tunnel One: The Damp Fridge Hug
The first tunnel was short, dark, and cool. Like being hugged by a damp fridge. I never wanted to leave. But the sun was waiting outside like an angry ex.
Paula vanished instantly. I became a mobile sprinkler. My hydration vest was working overtime. I had sweat in places no one should.
🕳️ Tunnel Two: The Emotional Refuge
The second tunnel was long, glorious, peaceful. I considered setting up camp and finishing the race emotionally from there. But I was only four miles in. Social pressure is real.
Emerging from the tunnel, the sun felt even more brutal. My water pouch was shrinking. It was time for drastic action.
🐢 Industrial Grade Jeffing
Yes, I jeffed. Not just a little jeff. This was industrial grade jeffing. Pretty sure I walked more than I ran. But so did everyone else. The path was littered with runners auditioning for Les Mis.
I saw a couple of collapsed runners. Checked they were breathing. Turns out they were just “resting.” Fair enough.
At mile 10, my watch told me I’d been going as long as it usually takes to finish a half marathon. And I still had a parkrun to go. Brilliant.
🏁 Finish Line & Shared Misery
Eventually, somehow, I finished. Slowest half marathon of my life. A record—just not the good kind. But I finished. In that heat, many didn’t. That’s a win.
Turns out Paula had only finished 25 minutes ahead, having also suffered. Misery loves company. We lay on the grass, comparing sweat levels and war stories. Then came the walk into town—because of course the finish line was nowhere near the bus stop. Ice cream helped.
🍻 Bristol Bound
Back to Wilko. Packed up like heat-stroked snails. Headed to Bristol for showers, food, and family time with Paula’s son Kai and partner Sarah. They welcomed two sunburnt medal-wearing messes with open arms.
Pub dinner. Pint of cider that tasted like liquid gold. Stories, laughs, and a film we never finished because we fell asleep on the sofa.
🎨 Monday: DIY Dreams & Burger Betrayal
Monday morning: Wickes run for paint and roofing panels to make Wilko truly ours. Final mission: McDonald’s. I’d been dreaming of that new burger since mile 8.
Sold out. Of course it was. Final insult. Sunburnt, sore, and burger-less.
🧠 Moral of the Story
- Never trust the weather.
- Never trust McDonald’s stock levels.
- Never underestimate the power of a good tunnel.