Running on my Thursday run to work (the second of the working week and thus the harder of the two), I was making decent time and negotiated Sloane Square well before striding out with my eyes set on Victoria.

With my aim to make my 5 miles in about 45 mins, the final stretch post-Sloane Square is always when I need to dig a bit deeper and keep my head up. Big mistake. When I’d rounded the corner I was dramatically flagged down by a bearded American man in his 60s clutching a map (before flapping it around in my face like his wife had just collapsed round the corner). Being a good samaritan I stopped and, taking deeper breaths took my earphones out expecting to either have to give directions or be told I’d dropped something essential behind me. No.

“Stretch your fingers out like blades….they cut through the air and you don’t waste energy”, he said, with a sage grin spreading across his face.

“Thanks for the tip”, I wheezed, before angrily sprinting off past Eaton Square. Of course what I meant to say was ‘Fuck OFF you old buffoon, the last 4 miles had gone well enough, don’t EVER stop me in my stride again’. Still, I should be grateful for the top tip from someone who clearly meant well.