Sunday was London 10k for me.
Paul and Karen (who some of you know from the Dunwich Dynamo) secured some free passes again this year, but this year upgraded to VIP. This meant meeting in a swanky hotel a few yards from the start. But rather than finding the room full of fat celebs I had expected there were half a dozen elite athletes looking superhuman and doing yoga on the floor. One exception was a chap who looked grateful to see us greeting me with: "I'm guessing that you're not one of the elite athletes?" ... Thanks.
We emerged blinking into the sun with a Coldstream Guards fanfare to see 25000 runners queued up down Picadilly looking across to the start and us Elites warming up, very embarrassing. I've never had a stronger desire to be able to touch my toes, every lunge and stretch suddenly took on comic proportions. Starting one yard behind the Kenyans and Ethiopians, there was nothing for it but to run as hard as I could for the half mile or so past the queue of onlooking queued runners. Even then you couldn't see the elites for dust. Consequently the first km wasa lung busting sub 4mins! I overtook no-one all race, but with a flat course through central London and good conditions, I clocked a (provisional) surprising 41:40. Chuffed. Great Day.