Hi Merilyn,

Amanda said you were surprised not to get a photographic accompaniment to her email about the PL10k; here you go then:


It's a bit late now to start thinking you left the grill on...


Recall if you will, how Amanda hid from me at the start of the Dorking 10m. She's doing it again. Maybe that's what she was thinking about earlier.


"I say, Carruthers! What the bloody hell are all these peasants doing on the drive?!"


Into the valley of Ranmore raced the three hundred and eighty-seven!


It's no good. Flap your arms as much as you like, you're staying on the ground down there.


What goes down must come up.


Everybody's looking for the dry line - a fool's errand if ever there was one.


Flat? Not muddy? You're spoiling us!

 
Hmm... nothing about runners in or out of the field. But then they're all just following one another, maybe there's no need to distinguish the different kinds of sheep...


A bit drizzly now. Not really cold or wet, but definitely not the weather we'd been promised a few days ago. At least the end is in sight, only a couple of hundred metres left now.


She thinks it's all over. It is now!


Well, not quite over; she's still got to get the judges' vote for her tango with the race director.


Now there's a motto!

All the best,

Steve.