A few miles up from the Sportsman’s, I had made up a lot of my lost ground when the New Inn appeared on the right and the race route continued on leaving me with a choice. It would have been rude not to stop, though.
The two guys at the bar were efficiency incarnate and completely nonplussed by an American showing up from the island marathon demanding drink. I soon had a Ramsbury Best Bitter and crowds of other customers wishing me well on the rest of the run. Nice house.