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Hello. Good morning, good afternoon, good evening, whatever the hell time it is where you are. It’s 11.11am in London, the sky is grey, the tea is stewed, and somewhere on the planet a bunch of people already ran a marathon while you were just about coming to terms with a Sunday ahead dealing with a hangover.
The specific marathon in mind was of course in Beijing, where Ethiopia’s Mare Dibaba won the women’s race by just one second from Kenya’s Helah Kiprop in 2:27:35. Bahrain’s (Kenya-born) Eunice Kirwa took bronze.
The specific marathon in mind was of course in Beijing, where Ethiopia’s Mare Dibaba won the women’s race by just one second from Kenya’s Helah Kiprop in 2:27:35. Bahrain’s (Kenya-born) Eunice Kirwa took bronze.
Nick will be here shortly. Meanwhile, read Owen Gibson’s reflection on the championships as they come to a close.
It is still there. Despite the liars and the cheats, the doubts and the doubters. That synapse blitzing moment when an athlete pulls out something unexpected in a major final and the stadium is abuzz amid chatter and flash bulbs.
In the Bird’s Nest, the Dutch flying machine Dafne Schippers did it with the fastest women’s 200m for 17 years and the third fastest ever. Mo Farah did it, his performances perhaps dulled by familiarity but tingling the senses nonetheless. The American Christian Taylor did it with a soaring leap of grace and power in the triple jump.
Julius Yego, the Kenyan javelin thrower who learned his craft on YouTube and had it refined by his Finnish coach, did it with the third longest throw in history. But then the brain kicks in with another nagging, depressing, lurching feeling. It is doubt.
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