It was a rush to watch the racers finish with a burst of speed. Even after 86 miles, nobody had managed to make a break from the peloton. I was there cheering them on, caught up in the frenzy around me. What a neat feeling. I wanted to be among those racing.

Comic relief, in the form of a kid’s race, came in the interlude between the men’s and women’s finishes. They should have co-branded it as a parent’s 5k, for most of the very young children were chased by their jogging parents around the course.

(This post is part of the 100/100/100 challenge)