What a muppet wearing new running shoes on the day of the Swindon Half!

EVERY runner knows there is one definitive, dogmatic, emphatic, uncomplicated, never-to-ignored-in-your-lifetime rule about our sport which is enshrined in the rites of passage we endure along the many miles we travel.

And it is this:

"Thou shalt not, under any circumstance, wear new running shoes on the day of a race"

The punishment, besides merciless mocking from your running colleagues and the humiliation of a "did not finish" classification in the race results, is inevitable embarrassing and painful blisters on the soles of your feet.

But I couldn't help it, your honour! The new shoes, the latest pair of Asics Gel-Cumulus 14, arrived in the post at work on Thursday. They should have been delivered a week earlier, the running shop mixed up my order, so upgraded me to the latest, most expensive pair of shoes, and, like a present at Christmas, proved totally irresistable.

The advertising literature purred...."The Asics Gel Cumulus 14 has it all: responsive cushioning, good looks, and a great fit. It has plenty of gel cushioning throughout for great protection during long miles, and a flexible forefoot that delivers a smooth heel-to-toe transition. A good choice for the neutral runner looking for high mileage happiness."

And when the shoes popped out of the box, with that wonderous smell, looking all shiny and new, they said simply "wear me, wear me"!

So at work on Thursday and Friday, looking very fetching in my office suit, I wore the new shoes all day around the office. What a fit, what a dream!

Then come race day, I was faced with a dilemma. This was the Swindon Half Marathon, and there I was sat on the grass basking in early morning sunshine examining two pairs of running shoes; an unappealing year-old, mud-caked, smelling-like-a-sewer pair of Asics Gel-Cumulus 12s, or the flashy, jazzy 14s, whose shiny body glinted off the sun, with a toothpaste-like twinkle and smile.

There was only going to be one winner, wasn't there? I packed three Compeed blister plasters into my shorts, had a good warm-up, and tried to convince myself that everything would be okay. I have only ever worn Asics Gel Cumulus, I know the shoe, and what did it matter whether I was running five miles or 13 miles?

The pressure was that I was pace-making at the Swindon Half Marathon. Along with my lovely friend, Michelle Leighton, we had the job of running the course in 1 hour 50 minutes, which meant pacing a calculated mile of 8 minutes 24 seconds. That's a heck of a responsibility. There is no way you can run over that pace, you have to run close to inside the pace.

Equally, I've been running lately like a constipated Tellytubby, with a longest training run of 11 miles, so there were some seeds of doubt how my body would fare in the race. I knew that I could not have a bad run. Even though 1hr 50min should be well within my running radar, it's almost a minute-per-mile off race pace, we were dealing with pace-making in new shoes on a tricky, hilly course. So there was little room for manoeuvre if the blisters did kick in.

Ironically, before the race I'd been to church. Some runners feast on porridge and orange juice beforehand. I dined instead on bread and wine from Holy Communion at Christ Church in Old Town and prayed that I would get through the race with the new pair of shoes. God must have dealt with a few dodgy prayers that day, but few dodgier than "please ensure my half marathon remains blister-free".

It was a glorious day for a race with perfect running conditions; sunny, egg-shell blue sky but a freshness in the air to keep the 1,800 or so runners cool. I saw race director, Steve Connelly, beforehand when he had predicted the course record of 71 minutes would be smashed, and he was dead right - it was won in an outrageous 69 minutes by Dan Roper.

The start from outside the Nationwide headquarters is uphill. It's a long, half mile drag and as Michelle and I set off wearing identical Belisha beacon orange tops in case of a sudden pea-soupper descending over the Ridgeway, and with myself holding aloft the 1 hour 50 minute pacing banner, the seeds of doubt crept in with those early, tentative strides. My running socks felt awkward, I didn't feel comfortable, and as we passed the drummers at the top of the hill plus the huge crowd stood behind barriers by the Marriott Hotel, I secretly thought to myself "Shit! This is going to be painful you stupid vain runner".

Michelle is a great person to run with chatting away constantly to all and sundry. Very soon we got into our stride and set the pace down Marlborough Road, past the Sun Inn, then down Dayhouse Lane towards the foot of the Ridgeway and the devilish climbs we were going to tackle. We had a good-sized crowd of about 30 runners stick around us for the first two-thirds of the race. Towards the end, that close-knit crowd had spread out, but more tacked on and even passed us.

Our tactics were to run a little quicker than our pacing schedule so that by the 12 mile mark we would be a minute under our target time. We could then sling shot those runners who were still with us towards an even better finish, and then gather up those around to push them towards a target 1.50 time.

The tactic worked a treat. The race was brilliant. The crowds were bigger and noisier than ever before, the marshals were superb and enthusiastic, and the race went off amazingly well. Michelle and I kept our eyes fixed on our watches and the mileage schedule - it's not easy to calculate muliples of 8.24!

By the time we got to 12 miles, I'd forgotten all about the shoes. Michelle and I, like shepherds, were herding our flock and encouraging them up the final hill at Marlborough Road for one last push home. We were well on schedule, and as we ran down the road together at Pipers Way to the finish it was a satisfied and relieved job well done. 1 hour 49 minutes 54 seconds - six seconds inside the target time, not bad!

The Swindon half is one of my favourite ever races, for its atmosphere, for its course, organisation and the supporters. There's talk that this may be the last time we run this fantastic course as sponsors Nationwide has dropped out and the British Heart Foundation has taken over.

I know for some of organisers such as the lovely Cathy Caulfield and Helen Maine from Swindon Borough Council's recreation department, it will be their last time involved with the event, which is a huge shame. SBC's "Ant and Dec" have been such enthusiastic and knowledgable supporters of the race, it's hard to believe their expertise is being lost.

It costs a huge amount to close roads and to stage such a big rural race with 1,800 runners, never mind the two-mile fun run and the five-mile multi-terrain race which is tacked on to this annual carnival of sport. I just hope that whoever re-routes the race - if that is the case - does not lose the quality ingredients of staging such a runner-friendly event which marks the Swindon Half out from so many other mundane runs.

It would be a huge shame if this became a predominantly urban race with runners jostling alongside traffic along the roads of Swindon.

The Ridgeway offers a spectacular backdrop to the event, and the villagers in Wanborough and Linnington are just fantastic. They came out in their hundreds to noisily cheer on the runners.

Yesterday, three miles out along a rural lane, balloons weres strewn high above the road, music was pumping out by the three-mile drinks station where a big crowd had gathered to cheer on the runners. What a feeling and you can't beat it!

When I first ran this race in 2007, during my 80 races around the UK, I rated the Swindon Half as the best organised of those 80 races, and I still hold to that. Please, don't kill that unique atmosphere which has taken years to nurture.

Oh, and you want to know about my feet? Well, the morning after the race the day before, the feet are just fine and those Asics Gel-Cumulus are just purring in the corner of my room!