THERE I was, sat high on this hill looking down at the River Torridge snaking its way through the valley below, a sweeping vista across the Devon countryside bathed in warm Spring sunshine. This was the life, I thought, as I tucked into my steak and kidney pie and chips while nursing a cold can of full fat Coke just an hour before the race.

I was in mid-Devon, in Torrington on a Friday evening for a race called Round The Tree 3. Great Torrington is situated high on the hill, and the race forms part of a weekend of May Day activities which also includes a carnival and maypole dancing.

The village had turned out in force for the event, which starts and finishes in the tiny market square. Drinkers from the Black Horse pub were watching with amusement at runners, some serious, and some in fancy dress, limbering up for the start of their races.

There were three races - one for boys, one for girls and ladies and then the men. I was feeling pretty tired come race time. Not because I had raced in Birmingham 48 hours earlier, but because the previous evening I had hosted a reception at the Spinnaker Tower with the Hampshire Autistic Society.

The reception went down really well, but I didn't get clear of Portsmouth until gone midnight, having lost my ticket in the car park, and then I was back in work by 4am because of the local council elections.

With just four hours sleep, and a slow four hour drive down to Devon with the May Bank Holiday traffic, I was wilting - hence the reason for the full fat coke!

The race was the wake-up call I needed. The men's field wasn't that big - maybe 70 or so, and we all hurtled off down the hill, snaking around the village and down to the river. The descent was long and fast, and any enjoyment was countered with the awful knowledge that we'd have to go up for the finish.

There is no tree to go round in Torrington. The tree died a few years back, so half way into the race which heads along the river bank to this field, runners circle around a post in the middle of this rutted field.

I paced the race quite comfortably, and started pulling back on some of the runners. The path uphill to Great Torrington was a gruelling climb. Half way up, a marshal shouted that the worst was over. She was wrong! We turned a corner and there was another steep climb through woodland and along a grass track.

The climb was about three-quarters of a mile long. At one stage I was reduced to speed walking, the climb was that sheer. But waiting at the top of the hill were cheering crowds lining both sides of the path. The crowds were brilliant, shouting encouragement as bizarrely the route to the finish took runners through a shopping mall, and into the square.

I was told the distance was three miles - my watch measured 2.8 miles, and a mark of how tough the climb was could be found that my watch read 21 minutes 19 seconds. Painfully slow!

It was a lovely race set is wonderful countryside, and it felt fantastic to be part of a community event. Most of the runners were from the area. I was, by far, the furthest travelled.

The three-hour drive home was not too bad, but bed was a welcome relief!