Or the London Marathon as it's known to sane people. Thought I'd be safe and go up town on Saturday but got off a stop early (Westminster) and had to shlep through St James' Park.
Big mistake.
There is a mini half marathon for the kiddies going on and as a result the park now resembles a rat maze with various bits shifted around so you can barely find your way out. I did in fact manage to leave the park only for you to be routed round back in the park and out towards Buck house.
I have on occasion gone down to see them run past the old Coronet cinema / New Wine Church as a kid, but even with your primary school caretaker running, it isn't all that. It doesn't help that these bits weren't really shown on television then and are sort of glossed over now. Remember that bit in the Simpsons where they went to bumtown. This is us but instead of a thinly veiled Disney reference its the Marathon.
There's a hierarchy to racing, which is a long wait before the wheelchair racers come in then the pro runners and finally the unsung. The regular Joes, and the fun runners in costumes and stuff. When they finally go, you shuffle off back home and hope the buses are back up and running before doing it all again next year.
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