The night before the Cardiff Half Marathon, I toss and turn and have so many hot flushes I wonder if I’m going to self-combust. It’s not the best preparation for a race, but, hey, I’m fortunate to be here and I’m determined to enjoy the day. For the first time in the event’s 16-year history, female runners are in the majority and the starting pen definitely has a different feel. I talk to Stephanie and Clare, two mums who, like so many of the women taking part, juggle running with family responsibilities. Every runner has a story. My dear friend and running buddy, Helen, has defied the odds and overcome her dreadful injury to take part today. I know she’s somewhere amongst the runners and suddenly the crowds part and I see her smiling face. Frustratingly, I lose her again, but then she’s there by my side just in time for the race to begin. We hug, (lots of ‘“awwws” from the women around us!) wish each other luck and then we’re off! This year, I know my granddaughter, Be...
Christine Stovell, author and freelance writer, on living and writing in West Wales