My first ever notable National Lottery ‘success’ meant I was one of the lucky 5000 from 43,000 who was picked – via a ballot – to take part in the first race to be held in the Olympic Village – and cross the Olympic finishing line. When I say ‘lucky’ I mean that I was fortunate enough to pay an initial £15 entry fee, and then fork out for flights to – and accommodation in – London. Not that I’m complaining though, as it turned out to be one of my running highlights to date.
On the day of the event there was massive queues waiting to get through the elaborate airport-style security checks to get into the village. A real exciting buzz filled the air as runners and spectators alike waited eagerly to finally get a first glimpse at the area that will host this summer’s games. Once through the gates and security I joined another queue for the many toilets that the organisers had kindly provided. A quick look around the starting areas and the bag drop-off point, and I joined yet another queue for other toilets. (There’s a strong toilet theme to this report, as i’m sure you’ve noticed. Too much water in the morning to offset the previous nights beers.) Convinced that was me finished with the toilets, I went for a warm-up in and around the starting area. This wasn’t an easy task, as there was now lots of runners/spectators moving about. A quick look over to the ‘red’ holding area that I was due to start in, showed that it was already beginning to fill up – and not with the standard of runners I expected to see in there. No doubt that some people had been a little generous to themselves with their predicted running times, as all shapes and sizes of glory hunters were positioned as close to the starting line as possible.
Before the red holding area had filled up completely, a few more runners did some very short strides up and down the fenced off compound. With 30 minutes to go, and getting busier by the minute, it was clear that my opportunity for a warm-up was over, and I made my way as close to the start as I could.
As the start time drew closer, the crowd got tighter and tighter. It was obvious that runners were climbing over the metal railing to get themselves a position closer to the front, because I had started about 6 from the line, and was now about 20 people back. To make matters worse, bladders all around (including mine) were starting to play up and everyone around me was complaining of ‘needing to go’. There was nowhere to go – and there was still a good 15 minutes until the start! This 15 minutes dragged in, broken up only by appearances from Princess Beatrice and Holly Willoughby on the starters podium. This did little to distract my mind from the hydration trying to vacate my body.
At 2pm the starting gun/horn (can’t remember what) finally went and we were off. The usual jostling for positions ensued and it took a good coupla hundred metres to finally get by the throngs in their ‘pub sannies’ who had clogged up the start line.
The race itself was run at a good pace. All the club runners there were obviously into having a good crack at this 5-miler and, you’ll see from my splits, the pace just got faster and faster for the first two miles. The one thing I did find strange about the race was that I knew nobody. Not a soul. I’ve been too used to local races where I always have someone to gauge myself against. Not today. And it wasn’t a bad thing, as runners kept having a go at each other, always changing position, some disappearing into the distance, some dropping off and new ones appearing from behind. It certainly kept the enthusiasm up – and the mind off the need to…..
Thing is, if I could’ve found somewhere quiet to just quickly run nip behind and have a leak – I would’ve. The only thing putting me off? I didn’t want to be the first person to have been prosecuted for urinating in the Olympic Village. With my number and name pinned to my t-shirt, I would’ve been identified no problem. Can you imagine the shame? Kicked out the Harriers and sacked from the Fire Service.
With about a mile to go in the race, a strange thing happened. I knew that I was fit to burst (with exertion) and that if I was to enjoy my entry into the olympic stadium, I would have to ease back, catch my breath and compose myself. As the stadium came into view, I did just that. Slowed my pace. And so, apparently, did everyone else. With all the changing of positions that had taken place earlier in the race, everyone now held their spot, all obviously wanting to savour the moment they had entered this event for. A lap of the iconic stadium.
We all went down a ramp that took us into a concrete concourse that ran the circumference of the stadium. It was in here that Vangelis’ theme from ‘Chariots of Fire’ was playing from the speakers. A bit of a cliché I know, but it wasn’t half effective. With the hairs on my neck standing on end I entered into the stadium and onto the track. Although the stadium wasn’t even a quarter full, the noise from the crowd was like nothing I have ever experienced before. Unable to control myself I pumped a fist into the air as I dashed along the first 100m section of the track. As I turned the bend onto the last 100m stretch of the track I heard Evelyn and my niece shout my name, and I again responded by throwing my arm into the air once more. I really did enjoy the last sprint to the finish line, almost catching some runners ahead, and it wasn’t until I finished that I realised that the lady I could see ahead during the entire race was Nell McAndrew who, according to our chip times, finished just 1 second ahead of me. I’ll get my revenge another time.
An amazing experience.
