Yesterday I ran the Nike RUN London 10K, which took place in Kew Gardens (which is a very nice place, BTW - I can highly reccomend it for visitors interested in a variety of lush green things. The Japanese landscaping was fantastic...but I digress.)

I put in a decent time, at least, as good as I could have expected for the training that I've done (46 minutes, for all you athletic types to giggle at). The frustrating thing was that there were a lot of people there who hardly ran at all.

Don't get me wrong - I admire and support every single person who put in the miles, tried as hard as they could, and on the day jogged round at a pace they could handle, albeit slower than me. What really annoyed me was the people who sauntered round the course without breaking into a sweat. More often than not they were in groups of four or five and took up the whole pathway, so when I caught them, I spent a good ten seconds or so interrupting their conversation (and in one case, their cigarette break!) to get past. I don't see the point. Why enter when you have no intention of putting the work into it? Why turn up when you obviously don't have the motivation or the spirit to take part?

I was given a medal at the end of the run, the last kilometre of which I ran at a sprint. This was my first medal (for my first run) and I'm very proud of it, but I can't shake the feeling that the experience was cheapened by all those people who would later go home proudly showing off their medals for putting in nowhere near as much effort and my friends or I did.

I'd just like to mention Mark, Warris and Nick, three guys who trained hard to put in good times, and on the day did not disappoint. I wouldn't have enjoyed it as much without them beside (behind! Ha!) me . Good run, fellas.

Bo "*gasp* just...two...more....steps...*puff*"urne