You may have noticed *something* going on in London at the moment. I’m not an official sponsor, so I don’t think I’m strictly allowed to use the phrase. In fact, I may get in trouble if I mention the city I live in or the year. Oops, probably done that a few times already.
Anyhoo, I wasn’t exactly being an Olympic (doh! I said it) humbug, but neither was I super-enthused about it. It seemed a bit inconvenient to go to East London and pay lots of money to watch something I wasn’t that bothered about, with a small baby and a small boy who won’t sit still. Nevertheless, it’s a bit once-in-a-lifetimey isn’t it? So, one intermittently rainy Sunday, Nathan and I decided to Get Involved.
But the easy way, naturally. Sod all that paying for stuff or travelling to East London. We decided to go and watch some of the Ladies’ Marathon as it neared the finish line. We watched a bit of it at home on the telly, had lunch, then took a leisurely stroll to Parliament Square for half one. Happily, the rain had stopped and both children fell asleep on the way. We found places in the crowd where it was only one-deep and a minute after we arrived, the leaders came through. I’m pretty sure they were cheating though, as a) they were on a vehicle and b) they were facing the wrong way. Nathan suggested that these might have been the photographers, but what does he know? It’s true that they did all have cameras.
A few seconds after that, some actual runners came through and there you go – we’d had a close-up of some Olympic medallists. They were blurry. But the key thing was, we’d seen them. Unlike the children, who were still asleep. But in 2016, when they ask “Mummy, did I go to the Olympics?” I can say yes. And then show them this blog post as evidence. Then stop Reuben reading the rest of the blog.
We watched the Brit come through – some way behind the leaders – and then it started to rain, so we walked back home again. How’s that for an easy process?
Amusingly, we discovered an A-Z Wenlock on the way and the name of our road was emblazoned across his crotch. Let’s have a close-up of that:
If anyone fancies replicating our lazy Olympic style, the Men’s Marathon is next Sunday. See you there?