Tomorrow marks a shocking event in history. One year to the day since I last donned the AFD vest. Cast your mind back: the 10km hobble, the sprint finish for 199th, the casual chatter with the marshals. It's enough for a motion picture, but unfortunately it's merely the events of my sorry athletic existence.
Casting my mind back I remember the sight of no one in front of me, the thrill of lapping the fat ginger kid who cropped up in every race, and jogging round to 90s trance in the knowledge I could compete for success. But that was many many years ago.
Let's be honest, aside from name (which was voted most-coveted in the 2009 Surname Awards) I'm just another runner. My only taste of international honours was trying on someone else's Ireland kit, and running a much-disputed world record around the Colosseum on holiday.
But back to the weekend's events. Only the 'skinny generation' would travel to Alton Towers to visit its surrounding fields. Classic running jokes such as 'My 1500m PB is faster than Nemesis' will be on the agenda for the weak breed. Most amusing.
Aldershot will of course return with the glory. But it's a level playing field. No one would be foolish enough to believe that they remove social lives from all club members over 12, push them to breaking point with no room for a cheeky smile, and they certainly don't borrow athletes from other clubs. That view is absurd.
The inaugural 'Snowball Performance Award' will be on offer to the athlete who has the biggest mess of a race, but still finds time to laugh about it. Previous winners have run with a testicle hanging loose, found time to flirt with a spectator during the race, and performed a lap of honour for finishing 256th.
Next years nationals will be competed in. That's the goal. Half a year before London 2012. Absolutely crucial to impress the selectors, so it's been labelled a 'must win' event. And I will win it.