A bell sounds, and all the runners start pressing more closely together. The cocktails I drank with Danny are starting to creep up on me, and I slightly regret that last Malibu Sunrise now … but never mind. The endorphins will soon kick in.

It’s quite a spectacle, this Ten Miler race. It starts at Dodger Stadium and it goes along Sunset and then on to Hollywood Boulevard. According to the welcome pack, the route ‘passes many Hollywood landmarks’, which is brilliant, because I’ll be able to sightsee as I run! I’ve already checked in, and I can’t believe how many people are doing it. Everywhere I look, I see runners limbering up and jogging and adjusting their shoe laces. Music is playing through loudspeakers and the sun is shining hazily through the clouds and there’s a smell of sunscreen. And I’m part of it! I’m standing in the middle of Group One, about ten feet away from a massive great metal arch which is the start of the race, with a number taped to my chest (184) and a special chip in my shoe. Best of all, I’m wearing the fab team baseball cap which was waiting for me at the hotel desk. It’s bright turquoise, with TEAM SAGE in white letters. I feel like I’m in the Olympics!

Yet again I scan the crowd, searching for another TEAM SAGE turquoise baseball cap, but the runners are too closely packed together to see much. She has to be here somewhere. I’ll just have to find her when we start running.

As I’m doing a leg stretch I catch the eye of a wiry black girl limbering up beside me. She looks at my baseball cap and her eyes widen.

‘You’re in the Sage Seymour team?’

‘Yes.’ I try to sound casual. ‘That’s right. I’m with Sage. We’ll be running together, and chatting, and … everything!’

‘Wow. You must be good. So, what time are you hoping to make today?’

‘Well.’ I clear my throat. ‘I expect I’ll take about … um …’

I have no idea. Ten miles. How fast can I run ten miles? I’m not even sure how fast I can run one mile.

‘I’m just hoping to improve my personal best,’ I say at last.

‘I hear you.’ The girl stretches her arms over her head. ‘What’s your race strategy?’

Meet Sage Seymour, talk about clothes and wangle an invitation to her house, flashes through my mind.

‘Just … run,’ I say with a shrug. ‘To the end. You know. As fast as I can.’

She stares at me blankly, then laughs. ‘You’re funny.’

The runners are clustering together even more tightly. There must be at least a thousand people, stretching back as far as the eye can see. And despite my jet lag, I feel a sudden burst of exhilaration as I bounce lightly in my new hi-tech shoes. Here I am! Running in a high-profile race in LA! It just shows what you can do if you put your mind to it. I’m about to take a photo of myself and send it to Suze when my phone rings and it’s Mum. She always calls last thing at night, just to tell me that Minnie’s got off to sleep OK.