Another run, another PB

Another honk of the PB klaxon! Three PBs in my last two runs, and slaying some demons too. Not a bad start to my weekend!

Today was my first run as a Marathon Runner. After resting for a few days post run I was fine last Saturday morning; a few light sessions on the exercise bike (8k on Monday, 12k on Thursday) convinced me it was time to get my running shoes back on. Down to the usual parkrun of Hove Prom, last seen as the 25th mile of Brighton marathon. Last time I went along there was a slow drudge along helped by the appearance of Kerry and Patrick for a motivational boost - I had to do better this time.

Another notch on the motivation scale was my parkrun times. I hadn't had a PB since March last year, and in that time Kerry has overtaken me with her own PB. This added an extra mildly competitive edge, especially as she turned up today wearing a Swindon shirt! Last night's run prep of a late night at the theatre, together with being clogged up with London air, wasn't ideal preparation - but I didn't want to let that stop me. I'd compiled a special playlist for today, eschewing the backlog of podcasts as I wanted to keep the tempo up. 

A nice few chats before the start, with Carly, Claire, Emily and the Swindon pair, before we took up our positions...closer to the start line than usual. A shorter opening speech than I remembered and we were off!

00:00:00 Ennio Morricone - The Ecstasy Of Gold

A swift start, and we quickly got into a steady pace. I hung off Kerry's shoulder to get a good pace going - 5:29 min/km for the first kilometre of five. I spotted Claire not too far ahead of us and briefly wondered if I could overhaul her as well, but focused on keeping Kerry close. 

00:03:24 AC/DC - Thunderstruck

Round the first bend, and Kerry had realised I was close behind, content to preserve my energy. The first Km was done and I was feeling good, not bad considering I didn't properly warm up! I kept the top of the i360 in my sights to improve my posture and breathing. A quarter of the run done and I noticed that the frontrunners hadn't reached halfway yet - as the course is two laps, with the start/finish passed the other way as halfway round each lap, it was good to see that they weren't too far ahead. It's demoralising getting lapped!

00:08:16 Motley Crue - Kickstart My Heart

I'd planned this playlist to gradually increase the tempo so as not to blow out an early pace. At 2km I was still hanging off Kerry's shoulder but I noticed she was starting to slow. I decided to take the lead and have her become the hunter, so I motored past her and kept my pace up.

00:13:00 Bruce Springsteen - Born To Run

Just after 13 minutes down, I passed the halfway point. Around two minutes faster than I usually hit this bit, and I was still feeling good. I told myself repeatedly that I had run further than this without slowing to walk during my marathon, and I didn't need to reserve nearly as much energy for the rest of my race, plus I didn't wanna disappoint Bruce! This took me round the 3rd turn of four, and I noted Claire not too far ahead, and Kerry behind. 

00:17:29 Guns N' Roses - Welcome To The Jungle

The four kilometre was the toughest, and Kerry noted she saw me starting to wobble. I was regretting my long sleeved undershirt, but some relief came from losing my microfibre technical reflective go-faster headband (£3 from Decathlon) and focusing back on the top of the i360. 

00:22:03 Van Halen - Jump

A check of my watch as the song changed and I passed the 4km mark. One more to go, a final turn and I was facing the cooling breeze. This helped and I could see the finishing line in sight! Kerry was behind, Claire too far ahead to catch up. Keeping up with the same pace would see me surpassing my personal best time of 00:29:18. All I had to do was not slow down.

00:26:04 Motley Crue - Kickstart My Heart

Didn't I listen to this already? I put that out of my mind as the course passed under my feet. I steadily advanced towards the line, slowly reeling in the woman in front until a blur of peach out the corner of my right eye. Someone was going for a sprint finish. Well, I wasn't having that and I found an extra burst of energy to keep her behind me, overtake the woman ahead and finish in 252nd position with a new personal best time of 00:27:44!

The post run chats revealed a successful day for a lot of us, with a fair number of new PBs. I was pleased that my marathon hadn't caused any lasting damage, and that a lot of my slower times recently had been fear of getting injured before the marathon - with no such worry this time around I could think positively. I was convinced before the start that I'd beat my previous times and this mental attitude definitely helped.

L-R: Patrick, Emily, Kerry, yours truly, Claire

Snickers

Two honks of the PB klaxon, because I managed to get two personal bests in one run, yesterday! 

Yesterday I ran Brighton Marathon with my brother. Tell a lie. Yesterday, we completed Brighton Marathon. There's a reason that people recommend training plans, and we grossly underestimated what we'd got into! Nice atmosphere at the beginning, with a lap of the park where the starting corrals were knocking off both the first mile, and the highest point of the course. Easy, right? One mile down, barely broken a sweat. Down the main road into town, past familiar sights, lots of people calling out my name - getting it printed on the front of my shirt was the best decision I made preparing for this - knocking off miles two and three. Nice and easy! More posing for pictures as my wife surprised me by appearing between the pre-agreed spots, nice boost to take me past my old flat, up a hill that I'm not entirely convinced wasn't completely vertical, then back down the main route through town.

Down to the seafront, passing the mile 5 banner and crowds on both sides of the road were cheering me - I think by this point Phil was regretting not getting his name put on his shirt too. Up the steady climb to the clifftops and never again will I say that certain roads are flat. While they may seem that way perched on a motorbike, running up them reveals the true gradient! Out towards Ovingdean, ticking off miles 6 and 7, a steady pace, enjoying the view and going to part of the Sussex countryside I'd never visited before. It was about 8 and a half miles before I first slowed down to walk - a personal best in terms of steady running. 

Back out of Ovingdean, a village that helped me discover my love of jelly babies, and an evil double-back climb before heading back to town. More clifftop running, enjoying the views, glad it wasn't sunny. Being annoyed by the camber of the road, which may be one of the reasons my ankles are protesting this morning. A supply drop from my wife (and Phil's partner) at 12.5 miles, because despite normally having good math skills and running a half marathon last year, I can't work out the halfway point of a marathon. This was the loudest point of the whole run, and precisely the wrong time to start listening to music in one earphone! 

Approaching the 14 mile mark, scanning the crowds for signs to pass the time (I'll read any text if it's put in front of me, if I could combine running and reading I'd be much better at this!) I suddenly noticed one with my name on! Two friends from my local parkrun and pub quiz had roped in their friends and come down to cheer me on! Seeing Patrick and Kerry, and then half a mile later Claire and Matthew (the other third from our quiz team) with a supply drop was a real boost ahead of what my brother declared "the longest, most boring road ever" - the four mile out-and-back from Hove to Portslade. I used to walk this road daily to get to work so I knew what to expect, but I think it took a lot from him. We helped break it up by running to a bit of street furniture, then walking to the next one, and it really helped keep positive.

Unfortunately that deserted us after mile 18. Aside from Vanessa popping up with supplies, this was the bleakest part of the run. The psychological effect of turning away from the finish line was a blow; as was more of the dreaded camber, the rain, the sparse support, and Phil's knee giving him gip. These combined for a slow effort, and apart from catching each other up after toilet breaks (19.5 miles was the first time I came to a complete stop!) we didn't break above a walk. The grey, windy, cold, wet section through Shoreham Port - industrial estates aren't the nicest of scenery - up to the power station was the point where all motivation deserted me. I knew that all I had to do was get to the next water station, opposite where my bike gets MOTed, and that would be enough - after that would be the turn back towards the finish line and while we still had five miles to go, we had to do it anyway as everyone was waiting for us at the end so we may as well complete it!

It was at this point that we realised warmer clothing would've probably been beneficial as we were both shivering in our shorts and t-shirts/vest tops. Phil blagged a blanket from a first aid tent and we swapped this on the long route back. I honestly don't remember anything of miles 23 to 24 apart from endless grey clouds and a large amount of people shuffling along like a zombie movie. Just after the 24 mile point I got to familiar territory - the next mile or so was part of my usual parkrun route and I knew it like the back of my hand! Even more of a boost, Patrick and Kerry surprised me with an unplanned support slot and walked with us up to the 25 mile point. It was nice to have a distraction as Phil and I were out on our feet. Thankfully the psychological marker of only having a mile and a bit helped, and the crowds of support returned along the seafront. I noticed that my response to people calling my name changed over the run - from an upbeat "thank you, young lady/man!", to a simple thanks, to a raised fist of acknowledgement, to a weary thumbs up, to a very minimal wave! 

The sun came out to see us home, which means that I managed to get sunburned in the same run - in the same few miles - that I needed a blanket to keep warm. Thanks, British weather! Past the 26 mile banner we started to pick up into a gentle jog and crossed the line together, in 6 hours and 5 minutes. If I do it again it'll be with several more half-marathons and longer runs under my belt, as I'm normally upbeat and optimistic but this took it out of me. Still, I've run a marathon now, and nobody can take that away from me - not bad for the kid who preferred to hide in the library than take part in PE at school!

(Incidentally, from a few minutes of Googling, it appears that Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson has never completed a marathon himself - which means that I can be judged as a better sportsman than The Rock, using this as a barometer!)

 The comic book series Phonogram, in which the basic concept is music-is-magic (and if you love music you really should check it out - start with The Singles Club, and use the glossary if you’re not familiar with mid 2000s British indie music), puts forward the idea of the Curse Song. The song that, no matter how chipper and upbeat it is, brings forth a memory that drops like a stone to the pit of your stomach and starts to kick its way out.

“It’s worth stressing that a curse record is a different thing to the true angry break-up obsessive record. Putting on anything by Nick Cave, drinking a lot of whiskey while scowling is actually a healing thing. Not nice for anyone else to be around you as you coat yourself with blood and sin, but actually a utilitarian thing for self-repair, an aesthetically-inversed version of white wine, smeared mascara and bawling “I Will Survive”. A curse record is the opposite. A curse song will, in a real way, open up old wounds, tearing the stitches you’re trying to make hold. A curse song should be avoided at all costs. 

Lately I’ve been going through a pile of old mix CDs I made when I was younger. Some are labelled, some anonymous (the one labelled Best Of 2003 was a chuckle - I might stick it up on here for people to laugh at) but each CD has had at least one track that made me think “cor, I haven’t heard this in ages!” which promptly got stuck on a Spotify playlist created for the very purpose of nostalgia. Also, a surprisingly high amount of Evanescence considering I’ve scrobbled them on Last.fm nine times since 2005. It’s been an enjoyable jaunt down memory lane, until I stuck one on from the tail end of March 2004, forgetting exactly where I was in my life at that time.

Curse song? The whole damn disc was full of the fuckers. 

That’s the thing about music. It’s time travel. An eight bar intro can rip you from the present day and hurl you, screaming, back to a time you’d left behind. Oh, you’d got over it. You’d moved on, after a long and difficult healing process. Built a life, found your ideal partner, created a new you. The happiness you have now? No barrier to the flood of memories. 

Music can be magic, or it can be murder.

Gig Survey 2017

Top 10 shows of the year?

1. Tove Lo, Shepherds Bush Empire, London, 17th March
2. Lorde, Brighton Centre, 30th September
3. Kesha, Electric Brixton, 14th November
4. Lucy Rose, Electric Rooms, Southampton, 24th November
5. Blondie, Hyde Park, London, 30th June
6. Marmozets, The Haunt, Brighton, 22nd August
7. Sainte, Hoxton Square Bar & Grill, London, 11th August
8. Lucy Rose, Whelans, Dublin, 11th November
9. Billy Lunn, Prince Albert, Brighton, 16th August
10. Phil Collins, Hyde Park, London, 30th June

Total number of shows?

A scant 21, down eleven from the year before (and six down from 2015)

First show of the year?

Gabrielle Aplin, at the Haunt in Brighton on Valentine’s Day.

Last show of the year?

Lucy Rose, at a roller rink in Southampton on November 24th.

Most surprising show?

Blondie. I hoped they’d be good, I didn’t expect them to be that great!

Most disappointing?

Paramore at the Royal Albert Hall. It was stinking hot, and the new stuff didn’t grab me at all.

Farthest travelled?

Dublin! First show outside England since Garbage in Paris, May 2012. Dublin was around 700km away from home.

States attended shows in?

Cheerful, grateful, euphoric, terrified, bored, knackered.

Venue most visited?

The Haunt and Resident Records, both in Brighton, both visited twice. The Haunt would’ve had a third entry but Against The Current took on the mantel of the We Are The In Crowd curse and we had another funeral the day before.

Worst injury?

A digestive issue before the Lucy Rose instore at Pie & Vinyl, Southsea. Also the Gabrielle Aplin gig was two days after I ran a half marathon so my legs were protesting somewhat.

Most expensive ticket?

The Phil Collins/Blondie ticket was by far and away the most expensive.

Band seen the most?

Lucy Rose again, six times this year (up from four the last year, and down one from 2015).

Best new discovery?

Cheating a little bit, because my new discoveries this year have mostly been away from gigs, but Sigrid, Camilla Cabello, Julia Michaels, Kesha, Now Now, and Louisa Johnson all popped up on my radar this year.

Bands seen this year that also broke up this year?

None! Yet. Thankfully. 

Friends made at shows?

I mostly went to gigs with Dana so didn’t really talk to anyone else. However, about a week after I handed in my notice at my job, I got talking to one of the new joiners and found out that our music tastes overlapped to the point where a Venn diagram of the two would be pretty much a circle, so that was nice.

Band members met?

Lucy Rose, but she doesn’t count. Billy Lunn, but he doesn’t count either. Chronologically - Rose Elinor Dougall, Oh Wonder, Tay Jardine, Lorde (veeery briefly), and Jamie and Becca from Anavae. 

Best souvenir from a show?

More Lucy Rose tea, but that was more of a replenishing of my supply than anything else. My Sainte tee is lovely coloured, my Lorde tee fits me very well, and my Tove Lo long sleeve tee is comfy even though I can’t wear it because of the naughty word embroidered across the front.

Longest time in line?

An hour or so on a cold Brixton street before Kesha. An increasingly irritated hour outside Tove Lo afterwards subjected to the karaoke of her hits by her fans. 

Shows seen from the barricade [front row]?

Billy at the Prince Albert, Rose in London and Lucy in Hove and Dublin. 

Most shows in one month?

July, August and November had four apiece (not all of which were Lucy Rose!)

Most shows in one week?

Four in a week in July, and we also fit in a pub quiz, a cinema trip, and had some friends come down too! It helped that 3 out of the 4 gigs were in-stores, and 3 were in Brighton (2 in-stores and a post film concert) but that’s still good going for anti-social animals!

Biggest crowd?

Phil Collins and Blondie in Hyde Park was around 50,000.

Any drunk encounters?

I had beer at pretty much every gig that didn’t take place in a record shop, including the one at a vintage clothing shop, and the video shoot (I was a barman. I had to pour beer for the video. I didn’t want it to go to waste.) However I drank in moderation, so was not drunk at any of them.

Top 5 best 2017 concert moments:

1. Lucy Rose playing it super cool when Dana and I popped up in Ireland without warning (in fact, explicitly telling her we would only see her at one more tour date).

2. Before Kesha came on the (90% camp gay) crowd was warmed up by a Spotify playlist of 70s rock classics. When the opening riff to this blared out you could feel the crowd getting ready to sing along to the Destiny’s Child roll call, expecting Bootilicious. When Stevie Nicks’ vocals kicked in the disappointment was both palpable and hilarious!  

3. Tove Lo’s “give no fucks” attitude. Both her gigs were great, but the London gig - on St Patrick’s Day, and at a venue I’ve had issues with shitty crowds at before - was a feedback loop of crowd and artist adoration.

4. A 20 year old New Zealander holding 4,500 people in the palm of her hand.

5. A 72 year old American showing the kids how it’s done at Hyde Park.

6. BONUS MOMENT Oh Wonder having trouble with Dana’s camera, resulting in this wonderful selfie.

Top 3 worst 2017 concert moments:

1. The atrocity that took place in Manchester in May, which (justifiably) prompted the cancellation of the Ariana Grande gig we had tickets to.

2. A dodgy pie resulting in a dash to the loo at one of the Lucy Rose in-stores, losing my front-row spot.

3. Dua Lipa’s headline gig. To relieve the experience, shuffle her album with half a dozen “generic stage banter” mp3s, to have a very similar effect.

Hot Hot Heat

Been a bit quiet on here lately, because I’ve not run in a while. After suffering from shin splints I decided to give the running a break for a fortnight to let my legs heal, using the foam roller (and suggested exercises from kinetic revolution) and low impact exercise such as sitting on the exercise bike in the gym watching Gossip Girl to keep my body ticking over.

I had a 10k in London to look forward to, and didn’t want to miss out. It would be the first race I’d run with Mark since the Color Run three years ago, even though it turned out he was in a different wave to me, and the longest run that Paul had ever done so wanted to give him someone to run with/make sure he didn’t bottle it. I could miss the odd parkrun in favour of saving myself for this.

Sensibly we decided to stay in London the night before the race to make sure we got a decent amount of kip without needing to rush to the starting line. Foolishly this was also because we were in London the day prior to the run walking around a very hot comic convention. We left early to book in to our hotel and rested, and I had a nice chicken and chorizo rice meal from Leon as race fuel.

The pre-race ambling helped relax us, meeting up easily and ambling down to the starting chute. This took up most of The Mall, so we waiting in the funnel with Queenie’s London flat glinting behind us in the sun. Here’s where I made my first error as I started the GPS app on my watch but didn’t pause it properly, so our half hour wait ended up counting towards my time and gave me no idea of my time while running. One thing the watch was good for was reading text messages, and I was alerted to Dana’s position just after the starting line. We edged our way over to her side of the course to pose for photos as we went past, before shooting up The Mall through Admiralty Arch and round Nelson’s Column.

One of the other reasons for choosing this 10k in particular was the course. It took us from Buckingham Palace to the City of London and back again, passing major tourist sites like Trafalgar Square, the Houses of Parliament, Downing Street and St Paul’s Cathedral. Not only that but it was rare to see them from the road without dodging buses, taxis and Deliveroo drivers. Sadly I was too focussed on the race to really pay much attention. We followed Roxy Music’s advice and did The Strand, passing Savoy Court (the only road in the UK where it’s legal to drive on the right rather than the left) and the crowds of cheering people noticeably thinned out as The Strand became Fleet Street and we took a left up Chancery Lane.

Thankfully this worked out well for runners as the road was significantly narrower and at several times we needed to overtake slower runners on the pavement. We passed a girl wearing an Argentina shirt with McGhee on the back – not the weirdest shirt I saw all day, as there was a runner wearing a Gambia away shirt. A hard right along Holborn down the rest of the A40 and the sun was really starting to lay down on us. At the 3k mark I grabbed two bottles of water to rehydrate – one I tipped over my head to cool me down and rinse the sweat out of my eyes. This point was my intended stopping point to walk for a bit and catch my breath but my legs hadn’t given me much trouble so I pressed on with Paul.

Round the BT building the crowds were non-existent so the sponsors had provided choirs and bands to give atmosphere. Nice, except at this point a lovely gospel choir chose to serenade us with Seasons Of Love, from a musical where (spoiler alert) most of the cast die of AIDS. Not really the atmosphere I would’ve chosen, although the guy raising money for an HIV charity seemed to appreciate it. Holborn became Cheapside, and we passed the exact spot where my family stand for the Lord Mayor’s Show when we watch it.

The route meandered through the City, increasing the length for the required 10k (the starting line was quite far down The Mall) and we passed one of my favourite bits of inadvertently political road naming – Trump Street, which is next to Russia Row. Round the back of the Bank Of England in the cool shade of the high buildings crammed along narrow medieval streets we passed the favourite part of an out and back course – the turning point! From here I’d have to come back along the course to get to the end so I may as well finish it. After the 5k split timing mats my stamina showed and I slowed down for a breather, leaving Paul to dash off ahead. Someone who only got into running a few months ago, and he’s already faster than me.

I walked the length of Queen Victoria Street, and started to jog past St Paul’s Cathedral. The on course showers were much needed and helped keep me cool – the rest of my water was going down my throat or over my forehead. I picked up three more bottles at the water stop after the 6k mark and turned down a glass-sided canyon of buildings which had no respite from the sun. At this point we were approaching 11am and the sun was burning off the early morning cool. A turn back onto Fleet Street saw a pass of the 7k mark and an increase in crowds lining both sides of the street. By now the heat had gone to my head and I spent the next 1.5 kilometres in a state of delirium, feeding off the cheers and high fiving anyone who stuck their hand out to me.

Down Whitehall we passed 10 Downing Street, but more importantly my skintight cheap running top got recognised and someone shouted “run, Flash, run”! Round the top of Parliament Square we all got a shift on to get back into the blessed shade of the various Civil Service buildings, and then the final dash along Birdcage Walk. I sent Dana an alert to let her know I was within 400 metres and started picking up the pace. Passing the 100m mark I was surprised to see how close the finishing line was and sprinted toward it. I had plenty left in the tank – I should’ve started to kick on much sooner. I ran over the line with a final total of 1 hour, 10 minutes and 22 seconds – not a bad time in the heat, but I should really have done better.

A gentle parkrun ahead of me on Saturday, sticking to a slower 7 min/km pace to hopefully go round without stopping. In the next month or so I’ll (hopefully) hit the magic 50 parkrun mark, which I’m looking forward to!

This is a small piece to explain why on Sunday afternoon, between 3pm and 5pm, my Twitter feed will be a mix of football, cursing, drinking, swearing and classic rock.

It’s that time of the year again! The last game of the football season, and my team (Gillingham) are in very real danger of being relegated from their current league (League 1) to the league below (League 2). At the moment we’re in 20^th place – finishing 21^st or below means we spend next season in a lesser league with lower quality, smaller attendances and less money from both league position and people watching. It’s not good.

Here’s the table as it stands:

As it’s three points for a win, and one for a draw, the only team below us who can overtake are Port Vale. Here’s how it could go.

If Gillingham win: it doesn’t matter what happens elsewhere, we finish the season on 52 points and we stay up. There’s a party at the game, much is drunk in celebration.

If Gillingham draw: we finish on 50 points. We stay up IF Port Vale don’t win (i.e. they draw or lose). Even if they do win, if Bury lose heavily then they get relegated instead. Not an ideal situation as our fate is in the hands of others.

If Gillingham lose: we stay on 49 points. If Port Vale also lose, we stay up, drink, be merry, have fun. If Port Vale draw then we also stay up, unless we lose by a difference of seven goals or more (a slim possibility, odds on Bet365 are currently 1680/1 on such an event) in which case we finish on the same points and get relegated due to having an inferior goal difference (Goals Scored over the season minus Goals Conceded over the season). If Port Vale win, we’re down.

So, all things considered, the best outcome is if Gillingham go for a win, so we have our fate in our own hands. But how likely is this? Well, in our last game (at home, to Fleetwood - remember that name) we took the lead twice, before contriving to lose 3-2. Our match before that we lost 3-0 away at local rivals Charlton, a game I went to but the team didn’t really turn up at. Before that we won at home to Bristol Rovers, a team at the top end of the table, with two late goals that were rather lucky. Form is not on our side.

But what about the team we’re playing? We’re away at Northampton. They’re a few places above us, safe from relegation and ideally already thinking about their holidays, so in theory shouldn’t be that motivated. However it’s the last home game of the season so they’ll want to send their fans off happily with a win. Not only that, their manager (Justin Edinburgh) used to manage Gillingham until halfway through this season when he was fired – rumours are that the players turned against him and stopped putting in any effort (although that malaise has been in the squad since January 2016 so honestly, how would we know?) and as it’s always nice to get one over your ex, there may be added motivation there.

Port Vale are playing Fleetwood, who have promotion to play for (and beat us on Saturday as well) so a Vale win is by no means guaranteed, although they won at Walsall on Tuesday night. 

You may be feeling a small sense of deja vu. Haven't you read about Gillingham trying to escape relegation on this very blog, seven or so years ago? You'd be right. Things didn't go our way that time, and because of this I'm shouting down the urges to spend my day travelling to the Midlands to cheer on my team. Instead I'll be sitting on the couch as my wife plays Stardew Valley, listening to radio commentary and refreshing Twitter while drinking in celebration or dismay. Come join me! It'll be fun.

James Rennt

I realise I've been quiet for a few weeks on here, but that's mostly because I haven't run. My stitches have finally healed, and I planned to run twice on my holiday.

The first run was intended to be on Friday morning, going from Dana's home village in Germany over the Dutch border into Holland. I wanted to cross an international border on a run but as it was a) stinking hot, b) around 20k there and back and c) my holiday, I ended up staying home and reading instead.

However, I had a backup plan. We took the train to Berlin on Sunday, and Monday morning Dana and I walked from our hotel to the Tiergarten, a whacking great park in the middle of the capital. I'd earmarked this as another run, and after missing my earlier run, this was going to count. (Also, by running on the first morning of our stay in Berlin I could drink as much as I wanted for the rest of our stay without feeling guilty!)

 I started on the western side of the park, and had a rough idea to head east as I planned to finish in front of the Brandenburg Gate, but had no set route in mind. I mostly stuck to the paths, but occasionally running through the flat green garden areas - it was a nice proper parkrun, without worrying about barcodes, times or other runners! I made up my route on the fly, darting hither and yon whenever I saw something that took my interest (such as the Beethoven monument). I kept to a fairly even pace, slower than my usual 5k runs as I had a busy few days ahead of me, only speeding up to look good in front of tourists.

Round past the Holocaust Memorial, which was a sobering sight during my run, and I realised that I was coming in a kilometre short - I wouldn't finish in front of the Gate. Across the six lanes of traffic, pausing in the middle for a selfie in front of the Monument - it was a convenient break, as there were cars coming - and through for my first run in the northern half of the park. I took a left, past an adorable red squirrel, and across the face of the Red Army War Memorial (commemorating Soviet soldiers who lost their lives in World War II - unfortunately this ended up in Allied areas of Berlin during the Cold War, so couldn't be accessed by Russians!). I briefly raced a rider on a Ducati who sportingly waited until his traffic light turned green before blasting past me, and finished in front of the Reichstag building. I wanted to run up the lovely stepped entrance, Rocky style, but the steps were barriered off and German police have guns, so decided not to!

My final tally was 5.1km in 36 minutes and 59 seconds - not a bad time for a relaxed run. I was also pleased that my watch had stopped messing about and timed me properly!

As a postscript, I'm planning on running at my usual parkrun tomorrow morning, as it'll be the first step on my training plan towards Brighton 2018 - yes, I'm running the Brighton marathon next year!