The memories all came back by the Quarter Bridge

Laxey Fell Race 30 years ago: Murray Lambden (runner up), winner Steve Kelly and third placed Martin Hudson.

I left work at Ballasalla this evening after a hectic couple of days and starting thinking about the weekend. As I drove through the village I thought that if I went running even earlier than normal tomorrow morning, and I started cleaning at the cottage immediately thereafter (the outgoing guests are leaving on a morning plane) then perhaps (with a bit of reorganising) I could make it to the fell race tomorrow afternoon to take some film and some video.

As I reached the Blackboards (I was about to turn off for the Old Castletown Road to call to see our guests before they left) I realised that it was 30 years ago in the Laxey Fell Race that I had what was probably my best ever fell race.

Earlier in 1979 I had made my commitment as a race walker and had got my due rewards with a big PB the previous week in the TT Walk (about 6.04 I think). After recovering from that I decided to run in Laxey and on Thursday night I did my only training - but it was up one of the sharpest climbs in the Isle of Man. I ran through Ballalona and up to the summit of Slieau Freoaghane.

As a drove up and down the hills of the Old Castletown Road I remembered the hugely competitive race I enjoyed with Steve Kelly, who was running 2.27 marathons at the time, and Martin Hudson, a top UK fell runner. We chopped and changed places but Steve got away in the last couple of miles whilst I held Martin off.

As I got out of the car at the cottage I expected to be stiff (as I relived my dream) and barely able to move. Because that was how I was for the rest of the week in 1979. The stiffest I have ever been in any race in my life, I recalled.

But when I got back into the car and drove the final stretch of the Old Castletown Road and up to the Road Island Roundabout I was sure the car started to thud as other memories came back. Surely I was worse with my first Parish Walk in 1976 when I walked on stage with a walking stick.

And as the traffic ground to a halt at the Quarter Bridge I remembered walking to work (in Douglas in those days) the day after running 2.45.01 in Cardiff the day after my 50th birthday three years ago. My usual 10 minute stroll became 25 minutes.

As I took my turn to face the two extremes of Manx drivers at roundabouts (those that sit and have a picnic and those that think giving way to the right gives them licence to put their foot down 30 yards before they even reach the roundabout) I realised that I could call all three of them my worst - for fell running, walking and road running.

I'm going to choose my music for tomorrow now. I can't face my email.