Old Bologna

We had a morning in Bologna before catching the train to Rome and, trying to keep the weight off my feet and ideally rest before the marathon tomorrow, we booked ourselves a bus tour. The showers held off and it was a great way to get a feel for the city. Having seen the size of the station last night we were amazed that the platform for the train to Rome was deep underground. The stretch to Florence was mostly underground, but form there we had great views of the mountains all the way. Despite efforts to have a rest day, transitioning with rucksacks, walking around looking for places to eat, getting to and from the railway station and the places we were staying, the step count for the day was growing all day. By the time I'd trekked out to the south of the city to pick up by bib and bobs from race HQ, I'd reached close to 20,000 and very much feeling the niggle I've been worrying about. And I still felt like I was coming down with something, trying to fight off a cold. That perhaps was the explanation for why I felt very little excitement, or even a sense of anticipation, around the race tomorrow.

I've never done a big city marathon before (I did London in 1981 but that was before these thing became big) so the scale of the thing was a new experience. There was a massive Expo, which you were given no choice but to look around (with thousands of other runners) between picking up your number and collecting your drop-off bag. I then got lost in a labyrinth of stalls trying to find my way out. There was so much fancy kit and science on display that I found myself feeling like a massive impostor. What was I doing here as an aging fell runner and out of sorts with the whole idea of running so far on the road? But I had to go through the motions.

The alarm was set for 5.45 am.