A strange day out in London

I'd heard that the British 10km was quite an experience but nothing prepared me for the day's events as they unfolded. An early start got me to a convenient parking spot just behind Liz's house off the Mall by 7.30. Everything was strangely quiet walking across the front of Buck House and up through Green Park, part of my old training route when I worked in London. Having blagged myself a free / elite entry (don't ask, long story!) I registered at the Hard Rock Café near Hyde Park Corner where I was handed elite No. 11 (no pressure then ...). Sat there for an hour watching the real runners go through their pre-race preparation, including luminaries such as Olympic Marathon Champion, Constantina Dita and World Marathon Champion, Catherine Nderaba. I was more interested in looking at the memorabilia on the walls of this famous venue and thinking how different the place must have looked just a few hours earlier with Saturday night's revellers. Chatted to a couple of people then ran up Park Lane to Marble Arch on an uncomfortable warm-up (adductor / abdomen sore, more later). Had to scream blue murder when a job's worth security man wouldn't let me back into the Café (I know, I don't exactly exude elite runner status!). Eventually we were ushered to the start where the enormity of the event started to unfold. Jogged down the first half mile of the course to do a few strides and on the other side of the road, facing up towards the start, were wall to wall runners, thousands of them penned in like sheep!

After interminable speeches by the Lord Mayor and others; a token lighting of the Olympic torch; some fanfares from the military buglers and three (yes three) renditions of God Save the Queen, the race started. Of course I'd stiffened up by then, my aforementioned problems restricting me badly, so the kamikazee starters streamed by. The noise was deafening from the waiting competitors on the other side of the road and this continued all the way to Piccadilly, down Pall Mall and into Trafalgar Square before we reached the end of the snake. Eventually got into my stride and by the time I reached Embankment at about 3km I was going well. Continued to pick off runners coming off the back of the dwindling pack holding the three lead women (an Italian being the third), although after a u-turn just before halfway I was very much on my own. The next stretch is familiar to all who watch the London Marathon as the course emerged from a subway and along the Embankment towards Westminster Bridge - this stretch was straight into a strong wind (I always tell people that the marathon course is into the prevailing wind for long stretches so isn't that fast) and I was running in splendid isolation, apart, that was, from the thousands streaming along in the other direction. The whole thing was made even more surreal by the fact that I was rapidly closing down a solitary runner, namely Olympic champion Dita! Over Westminster Bridge, another u-turn and back over the bridge to Big Ben, around the permanent demonstrators in Parliament Square (they seemed pleased to have something to see for a change), up Victoria Road, yet another u-turn and we finished running past Downing Street in Whitehall. Couldn't quite catch Dita (34.31) but pretty happy with my time of 34.37 as it was my fastest non-Bourton 10km for 14 years (for non-Glos readers, Bourton is reknowned as being very "fast"). Also pleased to beat Ranelagh's Jonathan Stacey after he got the better of me at the Ranelagh ½ in May.

Picked up my gear (from the elite spot just yards from the finish, I could easily get used to this treatment!) and walked up to Trafalgar Square towards my car. I was astonished to see thousands of runners streaming through the 1km point with plenty more still waiting to cross the start line. It has to be said therefore that in finishing 12th out of 27,000 it was a slightly uneven contest! I sat and watched for a couple of minutes as I changed out of my race gear then strolled back to my car - Buck House & The Mall now heaving with tourists in contrast to much earlier - with ominous pains percolating through my body. Dropped my gear into the car and tried to do a warm down: I was in agony, my adductor had seized up and the pain in my abdomen was searing. I was doubled up; I know Ron Hill would have managed to hobble a couple of miles in this state but not me. Was home by 12:30 and wondered how many poor souls were still out on the course.

Postscript: with marathon training in full flow, at least in theory, I'd taken Monday off work to do my long run. So despite a bad night, out I went for a 22 miler, thankfully with Natalie and her friend Alice coming along for the ride on their bikes. Have subsequently seen the doc (already being treated for the adductor problem by the lovely Helen Hall in Fairford, highly recommended) and am waiting on blood tests to see what the problem is and whether Finland is viable.