RUNNING is normally a solitary activity. Just me, the headphones, the slightly downtrodden shoes that probably need replacing, and the sweat rising to evaporate from the bald uplands of my head.

So it is fun to have company for a change. Mind you, 6,000 other runners is quite a lot of company. Normally I run away from crowds; on Sunday I was part of a running crowd.

The occasion was the second York 10K race, held in honour of the champion fundraiser Jane Tomlinson. The memory of that gallant woman lives on in the massed ranks of runners, even if most of us only knew her from the television.

Spirits are high when the race begins, and nerves jangle too. My wife tells me she is feeling anxious about running. I deny any such wimpy weakness on my part, while somewhere down below last-minute doubts worm away.

Will the knees hold up this time round? Should I have drunk two glasses of red wine last night? At 53, am I getting on a bit for this sort of thing? Hell no, and damn those creaky joints, and besides there are plenty of older participants here, with at least one 80-year-old, which is an inspirational thought, and one to keep me hobbling on for a few years yet.

Someone attempts to lead a group warm-up over the sound system. Arms are stretched and legs shaken, and miraculously almost no one ends up with a black eye.

BBC Radio York presenter Elly Fiorentini jollies everyone along with a spot of motivational patter, while telling us all to look like we are enjoying ourselves. I don’t know about you, but being told to enjoy myself never works for me, but never mind, because we are off, all bunched together, runners and walkers alike.

Too many walkers at the front for those of us chasing 55 minutes, but never mind, it’s supposed to be a fun day, and it certainly is that. Bump, sorry, just tripped over another ambulatory participant, but no worries.

Off the route snakes, going here and there, but not quite where it went last year, which is mildly confusing. After four twisting kilometres, we pass York Minster, which offers spiritual solace to the knees. Water is grabbed, swigged and discarded, and on we go. Soon Clifford’s Tower looms to our left, then we double back, before dropping down to the River Ouse.

The next stretch takes us up to the Millennium Bridge, which is fun to cross as the arced span bounces under the drumming of trainer-clad feet.

Only a couple of kilometres remain, with the devious inclusion of a hill (and there I was thinking York didn’t have any of those) kept to the last.

Soon nine are gone and there is only one ‘k’ left, and a twinge or two later it is over, with a friendly crowd watching at the finish.

After a celebratory bottle of water, the computer chip is detached from the laces of my trainers – not a location for the squeamish – and dropped into a collecting bucket. Later that day, this duplicitous chip will reveal that this year I did the run in 56 minutes – a whole minute slower than last time.

Oh well, it was still an enjoyable occasion, and for once it was nice to be part of a crowd, and watched by one, too. And I did later enjoy reading the response on our website from someone bemoaning the lack of crowd support – “I can’t remember any crows (sic) cheering me on…”

Well, they wouldn’t, would they?

Anyway, here’s to next year and the third York 10K. I’ll be there, trying to wrestle back that lost minute.

• WITH crowds in mind, have you come across that new word “crowdsourcing”? And, yes, it does scrunch together like that, one word in collision with the other.

The new Government likes crowdsourcing, apparently. It refers to seeking ideas from the general public, or crowd. Yes, asking people what they think. Nice and simple. So quit it with the nonsense jargon.