Not the best day before. Not only did I have a couple of beers, I had a whiskey after dinner with an old mate....No pressure though. There was a fuck up on the metro as it was so packed they couldn't close the doors and the thing was stopped in a station for so long that most of us got off and walk/jogged. Took a while to get to bag drop and between all that I used up some energy and forgot the old Vaseline.... Fortunately didn't come back to haunt me. Now, as it happens I would have been better off missing my start pen and time and going off with the next wave 10 mins later but at the time I was glad to get going in case it got warm by midday. I wanted to do 5 min or 4.55 Kms but I just couldn't. Every goddamn km was 4.45. I knew this would eventually get me. There were hundreds if not thousands passing me. I'm not kidding. To give an example of the level and speed, my pupil, Quinn Ballbach, who I coached to his first marathon did a beautiful 2.37. Almost even split, less than a minute positive. His finishing place? 790th. He couldn't fuckin' believe it. So, I was manually pressing lap times at 5k intervals and every bleeding one was about 24 mins up to km25. The calves had started to get fairly tight even before that spot and I started pouring water on em till the end. Did get a bit of spray too from a medical helper at one stage. They never fully cramped. Anyway, the quads and everything else were starting to hurt so I didn't really need the cramps . Part 3 to follow.