18 October 2015
So there I was waiting around like a troll under the bridge near Toronto’s Distillery District wondering if Commando had already gone past and, if not, exactly where he was. Now I’d stopped moving I was getting cold again and the light wasn’t the best under there the expressway so it was touch and go whether I spotted him at all. Runners came past in dribs and drabs and I squinted at them all. The problem was I didn’t know exactly when he’d crossed the start line or how far I was from the cheer point. The longer I waited to more worried I got. Continue reading …and on to the finish line.

