Our story begins in 1965...


Amanda was born in this very house, just across the road from race HQ!


"They also serve who only stand and bake"


Claire, Paul, Steve and Jo - two-thirds of the Dulwich Posse.


Who are these guys? Dunno. Claire tells them to pose and me to snap. "We hear and obey, O Mistress!"


The Last Post and two minutes silence before the race.


The silence ends with the bleeping of a thousand Garmins!


As everyone makes their way round the initial lap of the field, the sky is starting to clear and there are distinct patches of blue. Note the presence of Steve, who manages to hide behind other runners whenever I point the camera at him later.


Aha! Another Dulwich runner. Also called Paul, just to confuse things.


Ola, the sixth and final member. Well, actually the first - she's on her own well out in front as first lady.


Jo is going strong, best of the rest.


At least somebody is tidying up after all those messy runners!


Is that a compression garment or are you just pleased to see me?


It's Ameet the Traitor! He's running in Crystal Palace Fun Runner guise, not Dulwich.


Being ahead of Claire is obviously a source of great pride.


Whoever would have thought the London Borough of Lewisham could look so good? One of the small red dots at the bottom of the hill is Claire.


Ola is too quick for me, but here's Jo sprinting for the finish line.


(Other) Paul next.


And here's Amanda, who hasn't fallen over in the mud once!


Her official time is 52:20, so the big clock must be slightly out, but not bad for a trail 10k when she reckoned she was going to take it easy.


Claire's happy too, what with illness and injury of late.


Not quite running off into the sunset, but close.


And the post-race photo - we've found Ola (who kept her lead to the end and is female race winner) and we seem to have swapped Pauls.


After the race, a pint in the Jolly Woodman. I used to drink here as a schoolboy in the 70s, and spent many an evening pining after Theresa, the beautiful barmaid, who for some incomprehensible reason seemed to find schoolboys drinking pints of lager of no romantic interest whatsoever. [Yes, I'm older now and no longer need to have this strange phenomenon explained, thank you.] Theresa is long gone, but the place has barely changed apart from that!

Until next time,

Steve.