I have so far managed to conceal my innate clumsiness from Sam and the rest of the BodyFit runners. 

I had managed to limit my falls to weekend runs and spins out on my own to minimise the embarrassment factor.

That all changed on Monday. The weather was particularly harsh - so much so that the normal class size of 40 had dwindled to 18.

It meant we were dedicated athletes, according to Sam.

It meant we were mental in my book.

We were doing hill reps (oh joy) and I was lumbering along at the back, as usual. It felt really difficult.

In all honesty, I probably shouldn't have gone running as I'd just got back from a wedding in London and I was very tired.

But I knew I had to keep to my routine - after all, the compliments I received about how good I looked in my bridesmaid dress made this exercise lark worthwhile.

I digress. My foot hadn't been too bad but I was being overly concerned and as we ran round a corner in a dark recess of Cockermouth - I have no idea where we were, but there was a steep hill downwards.

I thought to myself 'oh, I better go carefully as it's downhill and my foot hurts when I'm going downhill'.

So I slowed down. 

Next thing I knew, my legs were doing the splits and I gracefully slid to the floor, landing on my left knee with a massive thump. 

If I may say so myself, it was an extremely graceful and slow motion fall. I didn't even scrape my palms. 

But no one was there to see it as they were so far ahead of me. 

So I sat on the damp road feeling sorry for myself. 

My knee was throbbing. Sam came hurtling round the corner and stopped. 

Runner Jane, a proper medical person, ran up to make sure I was okay. 

Bless them and their poor backs, they lifted me up and I hobbled to the side of the road to allow the others to carry on with their hill reps. 

Sorry guys, if I'd realised, I would have planted myself where I was, although Sam would possibly have made you run round me. 

Everyone made sympathetic noises as I hobbled past them as they were preparing for their 15th hill rep. 

Blimey it was sore. The lovely Sarah guided me back to the Lakes Home Centre car park, where we sat in her van and drank chocolate milk. (I've never met anyone as prepared as her. She's the Swiss army knife of runners). 

I didn't do any serious damage to myself and was more concerned that I hadn't ripped my snazzy pants (size medium, in case you were wondering). 

I hadn't, thank goodness and I was well enough to go swimming on Tuesday and hit the road again on Wednesday. 

It does, however, leave me with just under a month to get fit enough for the 10k and I know I can't suddenly try to cram in lots of extra running (See, Sam and Jo, I have been listening!). 

I may have to cheat and take my husband's motorbike.