Spectating in the forest

The Forest of Dean is one of those places that, because of my work as a gigging musician, I've been to but never really seen. One of the venues I play(ed - because the dance there has been cancelled) at is in Cinderford, "Gateway To The Forest Of Dean".

The marathon was south of Cinderford, and so I got to drive through bits of the forest I'd never driven through before...

Our aim is usually to arrive at a race about 45 minutes before it starts, and here that was absolutely perfect timing. Just as we arrived they opened their overflow car park, and we were one of the first half-dozen people to park on it, meaning I could stick the car in a "no-one's going to block me in" kind of position.

We made our way to the start, and I discovered something about female runners - they are incapable of correctly using portaloos. Actually, this is an unfair sweeping generalisation - one particular running club (who will remain nameless) was to blame. There was a decent queue for the ladies' loos, and there were three toilets available. The problem was, the ladies from this particular running club hadn't prefected the art of "talking and looking at the toilets at the same time", which meant that people were leaving the loos but no-one was going in to the empty ones! Three times I had to yell out to the person at the front of the queue that one of the loos was empty, and the lady queueing just behind us suggested that I should be the toilet marshall; I think some from that running club would still be waiting there now.

With five minutes to go, I left Cathy at the start to head back to the car and read a book for a couple of hours. Catching sight of a large route map, it occurred to me that locating the finish line might be a good idea. I approached the map and was joined by one of the runners. "It doesn't look that far on the map," he suggested. "No," I replied, "but I notice they don't put the scale on it." With this, he swore at himself and wandered off!

After sitting in the car for about 45 minutes I noticed a group of marshalls skittering about behind me. In one of those "how convenient" moments, it appeared that I'd parked next to the suggested pedestrian route to the finish line - in fact, I was less than 400m away from the finish. Bonus. Back to my book.

At the finish line, two things made me chuckle. First was the woman who crossed the line at 2h 01m, looked at her watch and yelled a rather fruity swear word. I think, perhaps, she was hoping for a sub-2 hour time.

Second, about five minutes later, was the return of the bloke I'd met before the start. He'd just learnt that one of the other members of his running club had finished 3rd overall. "I don't know whether to congratulate him or hate him," was his assessment of the situation.

All in all, a great day. Lovely weather, Cathy knocked just over 10 minutes off her personal best, and treated to a carvery lunch at The Belfry Hotel in Littledean.

Next stop, the Asthma UK 10k. Remember your umbrellas, folks!