Striding past them were bright-eyed men and women dressed in shorts, vests and trainers, on their way to the start of the Jane Tomlinson Run for All at 9am.
As we giggled at the girls and guys propped up against a wall, knees buckling, dark circles round their eyes, we decided that had they known at that precise moment 12,000 people were all preparing to run 10k through the city centre to raise thousands of pounds for charity – they'd probably want to re-assess their lives, right away.
Still, there wasn't too much time for such piety as we soon realised we wouldn't be taking part either if we didn't find our teammates with our running numbers and timing chips.
Cue Catwoman (me) and husband running round like headless chickens, yelling about the disgraceful lack of planning.
Or rather, Mr N getting annoyed with me for being astoundingly disorganised, while I shrieked back my defence – primarily that we had been away all week so I hadn't been able to get everything sorted.
In truth, I had buried my head in the sand while we were away as I was still desperately hoping to twist my ankle or suffer some other injury that would save me from the embarrassment of trying to run a race having done zero training.
Still, accidents were not forthcoming, despite me enthusiastically throwing myself into rock-pool explorations and hill climbs and taking part in a booze-fulled beach mission for a freezing midnight dip.
So there we were, limbs intact, in Leeds.
Having finally stumbled across our running buddies, fellow superheroes The Hulk, Wolverine, Spiderman and Batman, and our elusive race numbers, we took our places at the start line.
I had decided, after a disastrously uncomfortable encounter with an over-tight Spiderman costume that when it comes to dressing up as a superhero, Catwoman would be least embarrassing. Plus as a devoted cat owner, I thought it suited me down to the ground.
Secretly I also felt an all-black outfit, worn with feline grace, had the potential to perhaps look a little bit sexy.
However, after only three gym sessions in six months and a plethora of boozy nights out, capped off with seven nights wining and dining in Cornwall until the day before the race, feline grace was in short supply.
I looked as far removed from Michelle Pfieffer's PVC-clad vixen in Batman Returns as you can imagine – more Bagpuss than sex kitten.
Still, I surprised myself by getting round in 1hr 3mins, not exactly a medal-winning performance but not bad, considering.
The YEP team has now raised almost £1,200 for Jane's Appeal – a perfect tribute to the Leeds supermum who raised more than £1.75m through gruelling endurance events after being diagnosed with terminal cancer.
The Leeds 10k is just part of her amazing legacy and I plan to take part every year from now on.
I'm not saying there's anything wrong with staggering out of a nightclub after sunrise – I'm all for hedonism. But the natural high everyone felt on Sunday was unbeatable.
And despite the blisters and aching limbs, knowing your fundraising efforts will help improve ther lives of poorly youngsters is enough to make you want to do it all over again the next day.
I doubt those hungover clubbers felt the same.