Bare foot, I've lost my shoes somewhere along the way. My breath is short sharp spasms and if I get through this alive, I swear, I will admire anyone that survives this horror after me. I'm not the first and I won't be the last.
On I run with only one thought - beating this yearly endurance without scars, mentally or physically. If I fall now I will have to carry the humiliation around for ever and the children will always be known as the 'kids of the mummy that fell'.
I can see in the distance, miles in the distance, the place I am aiming for. Please let me keep going. I am on the verge of giving up. My legs can go no faster and my feet are heavy with the burden of 'the others' rapidly approaching.
"Run Mummy, run, don't let them catch you." I can hear the children and it spurs me to carry on. I can feel 'them' catching me, drawing closer.
My eyes are watering and little droplets are starting to trickle down my cheeks. My hair is flying backwards in the wind. Moisture is forming on my brow and top lip. I gain a rhythm, arms setting a pace. My chest feels like its on fire. Burning inside.
I need to go faster. To escape 'the pack'. I feel 'them' nearing. Too near but I mustn't look round.
I am only metres from refuge. The final push, the moment when I succeed or fail. The reason for running all forgotten, until this point of finish.
I lose! Its all over.
It is so stressful entering the Mummys Race at School Sports Day!