The Olympics are coming to town

I absolutely love the Olympics. It's probably the event that has kept me interested in sport all these years. It's no coincidence that at the same time that Coe and Ovett were thrashing it out around the race tracks of the world was also the first time my dad took me down to Ranelagh Harriers to begin running. I wasn't very good, although I flirted with mid-pack mediocrity for a while. However, I had a poster of Seb Coe on my bedroom wall and wanted to be an 800 metre runner like him. The important thing was I enjoyed running, I enjoyed spinning round Richmond Park with the adult and junior members of the club and I enjoyed the racing. That experience set me up for life and I still enjoy all of those things which have helped me to enjoy a heatlthy and active lifestyle. I have Seb Coe and more importantly, my Dad to thank for that.

The Olympics have always been 'another world' kind of experience, just coming through my television set showing seemingly imposible feats of athletic endeavour and endurance from an exotic foreign location. I remember faintly the 1980 Moscow Olympics but it was as a 13 year old watching the LA games that remain vividly in my mind, and they will always be covered with a Spandau Ballet soundtrack.

As well as Coe, Cram, Ovett and Thompson there are many other names that remain indelibly etched on my mind; Mary-Lou Retton, Malcolm Cooper, Mary Decker, Ed Moses, Carl Lewis, Zola Budd, Tessa Sanderson. (How can anyone forget Mitch Gaylord III, inventor of 'The Gaylord'? Your avergae 13 year old boy would remember that one fairly easily). The list goes on.

But now, 'The greatest show on Earth' is in my backyard, literally in my backyard, and I can't quite get my head around it. My one hour bike loop from my house, which I have been riding regulalry for the last 4 or 5 years takes in about 10 kilometers on the men's and women's time trial course as well as a couple of kilometres of the road race. I went out for a gentle spin last might after doing a lumpy 60 miles on Sunday and more barriers, signage and Olympic stuff is going up everytime. Speaking of that 60 miles, I went out with Simon and we hit most of the hills in Surrey, which the road race will be going nowhere near, but we finished off with our usual climb up Boxhill. Even on a busy Sunday I would probably see no more than 2 or 3 other riders, but on this morning it was mental. The Olympics and the Wiggins effect are really kicking in and as we climbed there must have been 40-50 riders going up with us with that again at the top having a coffee. There was even another bloke on a Van Nic. It was really good to see.

The next day I took Wheezy Junior to Boxhill to have a look. We parked at the bottom near Ryker's cafe and walked up to the top and had a look at the Olympic rings. It's hard to believe that during this weekend millions of people will be watching this little patch of Surrey that I know so well from working nearby, commuting to and from and living in. All through Cobham, Oxshott and Esher they've been sprucing, tidying and painting in preparation for the world to descend. It's not exactly an untidy place anyway but the effort that's gone into putting on a good event is plain to see.



Decorated bicycles along the road and tt routes



Wheezy junior on top of Box Hill.

The next day, we had the Torch relay go past the end of or road. It was started by James Cracknell, a former Kingston Grammar schoolboy and where he started his rowing career. Thousands of people turned out to watch it go past and got the area buzzing.



We made an Olympic day of it, so after watching the torch go through we hopped onto the bus to see Wenlock the mascot in John Lewis. I've never quite understood thewhole mascot thing until now. Yes, you can argue it's just a method of commercialisation to help sell merchandise but I have to say that it's really helped my two understand a bit more about the Olympics. We bought them a cuddly Wenlock and Mandeville and the checkout lady stated  "What funny looking aliens."  This prompted little wheezy to then give her a long lecture on who they were and why they were called Wenlock and Mandeville. Not bad for a 6 year old.

We've been lucky enough to get tickets to a few events as well as watching the road races and time trials. Already, Wheezy Junior has stated thst he wants 'a proper racing bike like Bradley Wiggins'. That's fine. As long as I can borrow it now and again.