Himalaya 100 Mile Stage Race - Day 1 - to the airport!!

Well, the life of an international, Olympic gold medalist is no walk in the garden I can tell you!

No sooner had I arrived back from a magnificent Amsterdam Marathon than it was time to dust down the duffle bag, apply whitener to my green flash pumps, find my shell suit - and away we go again! I had had quite a good time in Amsterdam but there are times when the smell of victory, the medals, the adulation and the fan-dom all pale into insignificance and irrelevance. And its occasions like this when I thank the Great God above (or Seb as I like to call him) for my family. Not so much the Cash Drainers because they always seem to be hanging around when there's prize money to be divvied up. But her. The Half Share. Its not often that she gets the thanks she deserves and, I suppose, if I'm honest, there are times when I know I just couldn't manage without her.

So was I glad that she was around when I got back from Amsterdam. Otherwise I would never have had clean clothes for my trip to Indialand - and Ernie and I would not have had any packed lunch for the journey. So, I'd like to publicly thank her here and now for most of the things she does for me (by the way dear - not too struck on Marmite and Spring Onion filling so perhaps a little bit more thought next time eh?)

Anyway, from somewhere my kitbag appeared and I was ready to board the Transit and the first leg of my journey to London Airport to meet up with the people who were about to become not just fellow athletes but almost family for the next two weeks or so. Ernie had buffed up his Transit for the journey and kindly brought along a few tubes and a couple of Ginsters for the journey and after packing the Half Share and the luggage in the back we set off.

We were travelling to Indialand with Nice Work so we knew there would be a pervading whiff of kebab and stale Carlsberg for the next 12 or 13 days. But when we met up with our fellow athletes I have to admit to a little surprise. With one or two notable exceptions most of them were unlikely to see 50 again and I mused to myself that if it wasn't for me what a dearth of young British athletic talent there was.

I decided that the occasion needed an ice breaker so I immediately decided to launch into my famous Ron Warm-Up routine and as I performed my anal crunches and pelvic squirts I could tell by their little faces that they were impressed. Actually, that's probably not quite true - more like scared. Because I think it was only then that it hit them - they were in the company of a true athlete.

I left them to mull upon what I'd shown them and retired to the bar to stock up on a couple of Guinnesses and after a little argy bargy with the airline security - when are they going to sort out my VIP pass eh? - I settled into my seat aboard a Gulf Air flight on its way to Bar Mein and waited for my first curry.



It was going to be a long two weeks and there were going to be an awful lot of curries between now and the end of the trip.

Best if I start to acclimatise right away I thought. A chicken tikka and four or five beers later and I was in the Land of Nid. A restful night ahead of me.

I'll bring news of the rest of my journey tomorrow,

Keep on tapering.

Ron