Great Bentley Half Marathon

I think it was Adidas that ran an advert a few years ago with the strap line “runners – yeah we’re different”.

Driving down to a little village in Essex early on a Sunday to register. Waiting around for an hour and half before the start. People wearing bin liners. Queuing to pee in a trough. Jelly Babies, so many Jelly Babies. A few familiar faces, quick hellos and straight into PB talk. Someone trying to shout over a couple hundred people with directions and rules. 10 minutes Рget to the start! Queue, pee, cold so cold, wave to wife. Go. Stop. Go. Shuffle. Stop. Shuffle. Go.

Then peace. As I settle into my pace, my mind wanders. Is that a water stop? Already? its only been two miles. Back to my daydream. Another water stop? Six mile marker, pretty much half way – my math is optimistic when I run. Around mile ten I start to get bored. At mile eleven, miles seem to be much longer than they were earlier. Twelve miles is almost finished. Can see the finish line now and as always someone is trying to pip a sprint finish on me. That’s not happening.

See my wife waiving behind an iPhone, see the line, see the clock (1:46:12). Grab a medal, a Mars Bar and a bottle of water. Maybe remember to stop my GPS. Congratulate a friend on his PB. Drive home. Pizza.

I think Adidas were on to something.