while volunteers lay ice-cold towels on my neck. Fellow finishers come and go, but I'm not going anywhere; I'm not leaving until I'm asked to.I'm asked to leave. Fortunately, my disappointment is short-lived as I (just about) make it the 10-or-so yards
, then stop. Dead. I'm herded at shuffling pace to a 'cool tent' – think of it as a winner's enclosure for the exhausted everyman. Inside there is a cool mist of spray descending while volunteers lay ice-cold towels on my neck. Fellow finishers come and go
