Behind every great man...

…is a great support team. With the American presidential hopefuls announcing their running mates it’s perhaps apposite that I introduce mine. Barack Obama has Joe Biden and John McCain has Sarah Palin (for now). In my corner I have my son Luca, my mascot of sorts, and the mercurial motivational talents of my wife Elissa. For Sunday’s race they will be there cheering me on along with Elissa’s mother Terry. Terry is one of those wonderfully optomistic women where her family is concerned: she tells me -and I believe she actually means it - that I might win if I have a good race. No pressure then! To put this in perspective, if you put a tenner on me at your local turf accountant your winnings could buy Venezuelas oil output for the next ten years – hell, you could buy Venezuela.

Today, I took things easy with a 3 mile run to keep limber for tomorrows race. Time is meaningless since it was run at training pace and effort but for the record I clocked in at 19:59. If I could keep that pace up tomorrow for 13 miles I would be very happy. However the Gods of running are conspiring against a good performance. A visit to the dentist this morning confirmed what I have suspected for the past few days. I have a gum infection which has resulted in severe toothache. Antibiotics and ibuprofen are prescribed but I can’t help feeling I am falling apart. My inevitable grouchiness has caused friction in the Connor camp. Can we hold it together? Don't bet against us!