Whilst the G.B team were landing at Heathrow I was at the Peter Tavy Bank Holiday Fayre. It’s only two miles outside Tavistock, but I still got lost on the way. Jim Cole had promised me he wasn’t turning up for the 5 mile cross country race, but there he was grinning on the start line. Just time for him to tell me that he’d been working on the bar at his daughters christening so had stayed pretty sober the previous night and that the full english breakfast 2 hours before the start had seen him right, then off we went. A little lad of about 8 took us out for the first 400m before collapsing by the side of the road, I took it on for a bit then Jim came past half way up the 1.5 mile climb. I came back through near the top, Jim took the chance to get reaquainted with his breakfast and that was that. I love Summer Fayres, they are properly British. We had to wait an hour for the awards because the sheep sheering competition was in full swing, and no one really watched the finish of our race due to a poor scheduling clash with the duck race. The hour wait was good as it gave me a chance to check out the “extreme sports for teddy bears” someone had made a teddy bear size Roadio machine to top last years teddy bear death slide from the Church Tower. I would have liked to be landing at Heathrow, but until i’m running a bit quicker a British Summer fayres on a monday afternoon isn’t a bad place to be. 

I went into Morrisons a few days ago and as usual had a quick look at the papers which I had no intention of buying before I headed towards the pastry section. Heather is normally on the back of the Tavi Times, but this week she was on the front page of the Sunday Times drapped in a gb flag standing in Silver medal position wiping away a little tear. Good work Fell, Tavistock is going nuts about you!

Have you noticed that the worse the race the longer it takes me to do the website update?

Pretty gutted with London, the organisers had done a fantastic job of getting a strong field over, infact they had done far too good a job. Anyone who wasn’t in Beijing sniffed the 15k and had found their way to the start line.

Thankfully this included the french swim bikers Sanson and Poulat so I was hoping for a repeat of last years break away. I used to live with Ben, so I got my mandatory kiss on both cheeks before the race and tried to ask about the tacitcs. “arry you know we will go, le truc ce’st, can you go with us?” 

I was convinced it was going to be nuts, these boys don’t run that fast and with Robbo and the Raealerts chasing it had to be a fast swim and a balls out bike. Everyone was nervous at the start and crowding around the french boys, it must be weird to know that the whole field is thinking only about your feet.

We had the usual fun and games with the start line and the canoists trying to get us back, but we finally got going. Nothing happened, I was expecting to go out for the first 200 in under 2, but it just didn’t go, I settled in 3rd and waited for the big attack to come, but it didn’t. I wanted to be as safe as possible through transition so I got to the front and lead out onto the bike, at the first roundabout i got the call “one big pack” 

Thats how it stayed, 80 guys riding in a procession around the streets of London. No one got organised and the few stragglers who had missed the group were back on by tower bridge. At this stage I hit a pot hole and my saddle dropped 5cm, so I did the second half of the bike in my little ring looking a lot like a circus performer.   

As always it was carnage coming off the bike I took my first few steps and just wasn’t going anywhere, I guess it was a combination of still not quite being right from the crash,  riding with the low seat and not having the minerals of the boys who headed through their first km in 2.40. Whichever way my first 5km was down right pathetic. I got going a little over the second 5km, but by then it was all over, and I just felt really that alot of people had come to cheer me on and I totally didn’t perform. 

On the positive side, I knew my run was awful and felt like i was going slower than on the jog home from the winter sessions yet I was 25 seconds faster than last year on what appeared to be exactly the same course. I know, coulda, woulda, shoulda… didn’t. Will sort it out for next time. Off to the track in search of some get out speed.    

Not the best of weekends in France, We came into transition as a pack of 85 plus and Pete crashed. I was still hopping from my tumble two weeks before. Mondays French newspaper summed it up well. I’m pretty dissapointed that petes road rash is considerably better than mine from 3 weeks ago and even out does what I managed in Thailand last year.

On to London this weekend, the rumour is that the french swimmers are coming over for a cherry pick, so fingers crossed I can get in the mix, i’ll keep you posted!