ALL this past week the heavens have opened mercilessly across the north, midlands, and parts of East Anglia, prompting rivers to burst their banks and wreaking major flood damage.

Ironically, we seem to have escaped the worst of the weather in the south, and so as I prepared to set out on the long journey north on Sunday morning, I was wondering whether I should pack my armbands and inflatable dinghy just in case.

The destination was Freckleton in Lancashire, half way between Preston and Blackpool, for the Freckleton Half. I had a storming four-hour drive up the M40 to Birmingham and then the M6 to just past Manchester, and when I decided to settle down for a Sunday morning cup of tea and bacon buttie in Lytham St Anne's overlooking the Irish Sea, the weather was gorgeous.

There may have been flooding and horrendous weather on the other side of the Pennines, but in west Lancashire, it was scorching.

The Freckleton Half is the UK's oldest half marathon and one which is highly respected. It's no surprise. Race director Brian Porter has got this race organised to a tee. It is probably the best organised race around. On a very hot afternoon, he had set up five water stations offering both water and sponges, two shower stops, and copious marshals dotted around the course.

The warmth among the crowd was genuine. Hundreds lined the route, stood outside pubs with beers in hand, children on the side of the road hoping to high-five, and residents sat in deckchairs encouraging everyone who passed and exchanging in good-natured banter.

The race is part of a day of activities in Freckleton. The village is coated in bunting, there's a huge fun fair, and a number of side stalls on the main field, and a running commentary throughout which generates a lively but friendly atmosphere.

The one downside is the 2pm start. I hate afternoon starts. It puts the whole body clock out, such as what to eat at lunchtime and you're running at a time of the day when the air is no longer fresh, when the humidity is intense.

I started off steadily, and was rewarded with one of my best runs. My finish time wasn't my fastest by a long measure - 1hr 38min - but I just kept picking off runners one by one. I was only passed by two people throughout the 13 miles, but this was a very satisfying run since I was continually working between the packs and moving on. I didn't want the race to stop.

When I arrived at the finish, the race announcer, Andy O'Sullivan, was kind enough to mention my challenge as I moved through the finish funnel, and I received some warm applause and kind comments from those around. Organiser Brian Porter had given me the race number 80 in honour of the 80 races I was running, and with the race memento, which was a race mug, the motto "running is a mug's game" was inscribed.

Among those running was the legendary Ron Hill, now 69, who won the first ever Freckleton Half in a time of 64min 45sec, a mark which stands today.

I also met Mick and Phil, two lovely people from Stratford-upon-Avon and well known on the running circuit. Phil, 19, suffers from cerebral palsy and a condition called Sodium Valproate Syndrome. It means that the youngster is very dependent on his dad, his mobility is very limited, and so the two of them are regulars at races. Sunday was their 137th half marathon, and their 238th race in all.

I had an interesting chat with them beforehand, and I walked back to my car full of admiration and astonishment at the commitment and one man's love for his son.

A top race and a top bunch of people.