I have entered the Delhi half-marathon.

I'm not quite sure what prompted such idiocy.

But it is idiocy.

I saw a poster for the run in a shop and suddenly became consumed by a romantic vision of 

gliding around India Gate in the early morning, swept along by a tide of fund-raising excitement in a Save the Children T-shirt.

Tragically, I'll probably be the one who needs saving.

I'm already waking up at night after visions of being stretchered

away wrapped in that aluminium stuff.

So far, my training runs (all three of them) have seen

me splutter my way around Lodi Gardens, only a breath

away from cardiac arrest.

I'm up to 8km.

The run's in four weeks.

Another 13.5km to go ... who am I kidding?

I concede, my running peak is far behind me. 

Read recently Hussein Bolt swears by yams.

Maybe that will help?