Grim battles the Grinch

This race has changed somewhat since I last ran it 3 years ago. The pre-start ballyhoo in George Square has if anything got worse; the 10k entry is now so numerous that the start is in London Marathon-style “waves”; the timing chip is now incorporated in the race number; and the route now involves crossing no less than 4 Clyde bridges – including a couple of lanes of the Kingston Bridge (the West Street access ramp and westernmost northbound lanes, over which runners head south). Confused? Me too…I was sure that we’d cross the “Squiggly” pedestrian bridge, but that was the dodgy on-line race map graphics.  

Anyway, the gun went Bang as 9.45am, and 3 minutes later the bunched pack I found myself in crossed the start line. The first kilometre (steady climb up St Vincent St) is the most arduous, then you can settle into a steady pace. I decided to try to tag behind this bloke in fiendish green face-paint and red tartan trews, thinking him to be Satan in fancy dress. I was all set to shout “Get thee behind me Satan!” as I passed him, but began to lose him at the 3k mark. On we went through Tradeston badlands, with a water stop at 6k, but NAE BOGS as promised. So here I was at 7k, and a guy with attached banner was bantering with 2 tired wummin runners. “Ok darling?” “Naw, ah feel terrible!” “Daein’ fine…keep goin’!” I then realised he was one of those “motivators” planted among the pack, so asked the guy about “wee stops” (as in bogs). “Aw, jist nip up a close!”…this as we approached the Squinty Bridge, ie nae chance pal. A further confusion after 9k, where a sign proclaimed “200 metres to go”. Odd – we weren’t even on Glasgow Green yet! but I tried a sprint for a’ that. Must have been the finish for the half marathon race, which was to follow at 11am…Meanwhile I’d spied the green-faced runner ahead, and twigged he wasny Satan after all. What’s yon cartoon figure – the Grinch? Oops, finish-line ahead, I bust a gut as I rushed past yer man, just as the TV presenter collared him: “Well done, Shrek!” Our time: 52 minutes and some…

Half an hour later, and the Broomielaw – near which I’d parked – was still full of runners, most of the Dick Wall HBT BellyTubby school of in-race fuelling. Come on Chazza C – I’m sure you could still hack a 10k, if I can?

One last thing – I ran this on the tail-end of my latest chest lurgi. Anyone know a sure-fire expectorant? Thanks!