No run today after all. Too busy doing nothing. Too busy chomping on bread and pasta and pouring pints of orange squash down my neck. I’ve no weighing scales here at the moment but I suspect I’ve put on a pound or two this week. Or maybe a little more…
Perhaps I’ll do my final 2 miler tomorrow morning, or I might just skip it completely. It doesn’t have any intrinsic training value – more of a loosener. I have tomorrow afternoon off and will be heading over to London to register. An hour or two wandering round the expo will probably be the equivalent of a brief training run in any case.
It surprises me that the need to traipse over to East London to register in person in the days before the race is not a more contentious issue. I think it’s a pretty extraordinary imposition to make, but when you mention it to marathon runners they just give a sort of watery grin and say something bland like “Well it’s all part of the build-up isn’t it?” Well OK, I admit that I don’t really know if they give a watery grin because most of the ‘conversations’ I’ve had about this have been in cyberspace but they certainly sound as though they are displaying a watery grin when they talk about it. Perhaps it doesn’t matter quite so much if a runner is coming from abroad or even from a few counties away, as I guess most of these will be staying in London in any case. But living in Berkshire, it’s just a nuisance. It means having to take time off work, making a special trip into London, getting to Docklands of all places, then coming all the way back. Horrendous.
It’s impossible to avoid the conclusion that it’s largely a commercial decision. Having made the effort to get to the back of beyond, you might as well wander round the exhibition and buy a few things, mightn’t you? As I no doubt will…
Am I being unreasonable? In truth, I’m quite keen to have the chance to look around for the elusive blue and white hooped singlet, but it’s the compulsion of it that’s annoying, combined with the terrible location. Roarrrggghhhhh!!!!
And while I’m in tetchy mode, I think it’s a shame that the medal seems to be more an ad for a brand of margarine than a symbol of completing the course. I understand the arguments for commercial sponsorship, but it’s sad that we have to have the name of a tub of synthetic fat in huge letters on the medal itself. Seems indecent. I’ve collected three medals in the last few weeks and they’re all quite dignified objects. But not London, sadly.
But will I refuse one if I get to the finish line? Hmmm. Will I hell!
