On the face of it, a relatively straightforward 10k – a seafront out-and-back. So flat – in theory. And yet… there is that 39m of elevation. Kicking in just when we leave the cooling effect of the sea.

Did I say cooling? We ran gratefully into the all-too-few patches of shade to the De La Warr. After which… virtually none. The weather experts forecast a worrying 27 that “feels like” 30. But that was for those standing still. In the shade. For runners, mostly in the glare of the setting sun… Who knows? If this is what an Amber Heat Warning feels like, do not run in Red.

It gets hotter still near the western end of Hartfield Road, where the black tarmac of the road and pavement combine with the reflective white paint on the house to our left to create a blast-furnace effect. As we reach the Cooden Beach Hotel and finally turn, adopting the shaded side of Cooden Drive, the gradient cranks up a little. And the anticipated cooling effect of a 10mph breeze only adds to the struggle.

Here, a special mention for birthday boy Michael Norris – and Turn Marshal Kevin Blowers who raised a smile by revealing his beer-flavoured best wishes sign under his hi-viz. (Credit, though, to ALL 20 Marshalls who were made even warmer by those hi-viz tops… guiding us on our way, counting us at the end.) Michael, meanwhile, ran beside me step for step for 7.5k. A metronome driving me along through the heat.

Then, at the water stop, he disappeared. Had he ever been there? Had I hallucinated the whole thing? Thoughts of Foreign Legionnaires trudging across endless sand, towards oases that prove to be mirages… I spy one, two, three… five giant psychedelic ducks! Am I losing my mind? No matter, the finish is in sight now.

The finish is where all of us staggered, sunk to the ground, looked at our watches – and winced at how slow we’d been. One by one we returned. The eastern end of Bexhill prom looking ever more like a scene from some green-and-black zombie apocalypse.

Protocol dictates that I salute the ultimate warriors Will Withecombe, Zowie Fairclough, and the fastest “oldies” Kieran Price and Annette Fry… But in their wake – punched through the baking air, behind the sharp end of their magnificent times – each and every finisher was a hero. Take a bow first-timers Heidi Rossetter, Finlay Garlick and Catherine Jones. Welcome aboard and trust us – you picked a hell of night to start! Take a bow Catherine, Louise, Irene and Henry. Take a bow EVERYONE…

We had started as 58 individuals with personal goals, but finished as one great club – a little dehydrated and disappointed that (for the most part) those goals had been vanquished by the heat, but united by desire and dogged determination to reach the finish line. We are Hastings Runners. And we did this.