The Saracen’s Head was the first pub that was both open and directly on the Snowdonia Marathon route. I knew it was coming up just after 12 miles and so while the other runners all veered left toward the water table set up by the race volunteers, I moved to the right and dashed off the course and into the welcoming arms of the pub.
The assembled drinkers (the place was packed at noon:30) had a nice chuckle and one of them asked if I was dropping out. “Nope, just fancied a pint,” I said as I pulled out my beer money. “I’ll have that one, please,” I pointed to a Robinson’s something or other (my glasses were coated with rain and sweat and were fogging up pretty badly). I stood and chatted with the friendly bunch and tipped them off to look for the CNN coverage of the 30 Pack Marathon if they thought this was odd. “Am I the first marathoner in today?” I asked, earnestly. “Ever,” came the reply from both bartenders and the owner who had just returned with a camera.