In short, I ran the Reading half marathon.

There was a WhatsApp message.
It said Reading Half Marathon.
It also said free bib.
I like free things.
I thought, why not?
I didn’t reply.

A few days later I was with a customer.
On a cruise ship tour.
He said, “I’m doing the Reading Half this weekend.”
My brain connected the dots.
I opened my phone.
Scrolled up.
Typed: “I’ll take it.”

Sunday morning.
Race kit on.
Huckson top and shorts.
QuantumMetric cap
Adidas Adizero shoes.
Big bowl of homemade overnight oats.
Biscoff edition.
Train.
Then bus.
To the start line.

I met my clubmate.
I met my customer.
I was ready to smash it.

Toilet break.
25 minutes before the start.
The queue was… long.
Very long.

5 minutes to go.
I’m jogging to the pens.
2 minutes to the gun.
I’m standing with the 3-hour pacer.
It’s packed.

I climbed the barrier.
Ran up ahead.
Too late.
The race had started.

I jumped in near the 1h45 pacer.
Crossed the line.
Started my watch.
I’d accidentally loaded a structured workout.
Garmin spent the next 1h20 scolding me.
“You’re going too fast.”
Yes, Garmin. I know.

I ran sensibly.
Overtaking.
Zigzagging.
Somehow, I caught the 1h30 pacer.
I never saw the 1h25.

Then I saw them.
Clubmates.
Cheering.
Marshalling.
Shouting my name.
That gave me a boost.
A proper one.

Another rule broken:
Don’t try new things on race day.
I had new gels.
STYRKR.
I packed three.
Lost one.
Took two.

The last 5k hurt.
I kept going.

We entered the stadium.
The noise.
The energy.
Reading FC’s home turf.
Not bad for a finish line.

Crossed it.
Under 1h27.
Not the 1h25 I wanted.
But close enough.

Medal.
Massage.
Vegan doughnut.
Train home.

Also…
Everyone called me Malcolm all day.
Because that was the name on the bib.
Thanks, Malcolm.

In Short.
I ran a half marathon as Malcolm