Regent's Park 10K, "Resplendent!"

When I decided on a vacation in London, the only firm plan I had was to run in the monthly 10K in Regents Park. Yesterday morning I met my college friend, Joy, in the lobby of my hotel and headed toward the Sloane Square tube station to get to the race start. Checking the time, we decided to take a cab instead, and got the funniest, nicest taxi driver, who was vexed by the road closures due the London triathlon, also that weekend. We turned a 15 minute ride into a 45 minute ride while he cracked us up with comments about Americans being laid back (news to me) and running (he used to run daily until he got a girlfriend a year ago and found that eating out is more fun) and about my fear of being the last one to finish the race (to which he added his fear that I would be the last one to arrive at the race if he couldn't get a handle on the detours. Sorry, "diversions.").

Regent's Park is pretty, with boating ponds, open lawns for cricket, shaded pathways and fountains. The 10K was three loops of a 2-mile path, several hundred runners, many of them from running clubs, and some of them extremely fast. I beat my goal by one minute, finishing at 1:09 and a few seconds.

And as in every race I've run in the US, my slow-to-middling speed was overshadowed by having noteworthy attire. There are no running dresses (or running skirts) to be found here. So the fact that I was wearing a black, pink, white, turquoise swirly-patterned running dress sort of stood out. Particularly when the elderly race announcer boomed through his bullhorn at the starting line, "Here's the most colorful outfit of the day! ONLY AN AMERICAN WOULD WEAR THIS!" I mentioned this race was three loops, which gave the man with bullhorn (Peter, I introduced myself to him afterward) four opportunities to comment, through said bullhorn, on my dress. "Ah! Here she comes! Only an American would wear that!" "Here she is again, Miss Resplendent! Only an American would wear that!" The word "resplendent" was bellowed through that bullhorn a few times, as was his pronouncement of my nationality. Joy reported overhearing a spectator call my dress "psychedelic." I never pegged myself as the obviously-an-American kind of traveler, till this...

At the finish, when I thanked Peter for a great race and introduced myself, he enthusiastically shook my hand, gave me hug and enthused about my clothing choices to the crowd at the finish line. He's going to the Portland marathon this Fall, and I suggested he might try wearing a running dress. "Resplendent!!" he answered.