I don’t write about running that often on the blog – though some might argue that this is because I don’t really go running all that often either…
Anyway, on Sunday I was booked in to do a half-marathon here in London, but when I woke up it was lashing down with rain, and I had one of those poundy-temple headaches, so I decided against it.
And by crikey, I’m glad I did; runners are a pretty lot – after all, it’s ultimately their choice to go pounding the ground in all weathers – but it seems I missed a bad ‘un; according to posts from runners on Run To The Beat‘s own webforum, it was a mess from start to finish – transport difficulties getting there and back, a delayed start, bands not lining the route as promised, timing and distance inaccuracies, limited toilet facilities, and even the t-shirt which was supposed to be in the finishers’ goody bags appears to have been absent. Not exactly what you want when you’ve paid thirty (or in the case of some charity runners, fifty) quid to be there, is it?
Sometimes, a little voice at the back of my head tells me that rather than leaving home, I’d be better off staying at home with my lovely wife and drinking lots of cups of tea. It’s not always possible to listen to that little voice (there seems to be some correlation, for example, between me showing up for work and getting paid for it), but on this occasion, I’m very, very glad I did.