The New York Marathon and the Larne Half Marathon have nothing in common. They are 3000 miles, six months and an ocean apart. Couldn’t be less similar. Nothing in common, that is, until Bryn and Karen enter.
Just like New York, Northern Ireland is being battered by unseasonably bad weather – in this case snow and high winds. Just like New York, we have been assured all week the Larne Half Marathon goes ahead. Just like New York, no sooner had we landed, than it was cancelled.
Unlike New York when we arrived, Ulster was still in the thick of it. The plane bounced the whole journey. The thirty minute drive home from the airport took two hours. The snow created snail paced driving, the winds ripped at the flags on every street light. Flag protests became protesting flags.
So this morning there was no porridge, no Lycra tights and no medal. Instead there was potato bread soaked in butter, sausage meat sandwiches and a huge cream slice.
Every cloud has a silver lining. You just have to look for it.