down to you

This is my 16th marathon, but my first while blogging from the course using a Bluetooth headset.

It's also the first time that a Canadian marathon will be broadcast live from start to finish ― on CBC Country Canada and on CBCSports.ca.

It could also prove to be the fastest marathon ever run on Canadian soil. A strong men's elite pack will pose a serious challenge to the current mark of 2:09:55. The women's mark of 2:26:01 could fall as well ― three of the elite women have posted times either under or just over that mark.

And while that's unfolding, I'll follow a pace rabbit, a guy whose job is to bring in runners at a time of three hours and 30 minutes, which is good enough for any woman ― and any man 45 or older ― to qualify for the Boston Marathon. Maybe not the drama of the elites chasing big prize money ― but still drama on some level.

6:50 a.m. ET (10 minutes to start)
This is the time of day when you're wondering what you're doing, and wondering if it's too late to turn back. Making my way to the starting corral, I'm thinking that three and a half hours is a long time. This is when I start worrying that the coffee I had this morning will come back to haunt me. Why am I doing this, again?
7:08 a.m. ET
I've found the 3:30 pace bunny, and I'm off. It's 14 degrees and there's not too much wind or humidity. The conditions are perfect � for most people, anyway. As far as I'm concerned, it's a little too warm. After all, the temperature will be going up a bit as the race goes on. And, silly me, I forgot my hat, so the sun could become a factor for me in the later stages. When it's beating down on you over the course of a race, the sun can really wear you down.
7:32 a.m. ET
Just passed the 6K mark, and the pack has started to thin out. The first 5K was really thick with people, which makes it tough. You have to really watch yourself, or else you'll get tripped or you'll trip yourself. It's not quite elbow to elbow, but we have 12,000 people on three lanes of road, so things get a little tight. You see all kinds of people at a marathon. A guy passed me about 2K back � looked like he was wearing ballet slippers. He was moving. Light on his feet.
7:47 a.m. ET
It's going to be a long day. I just passed the 9K mark and, as I was doing that, on the other side of Lakeshore Boulevard the lead pack for the half marathon was passing by on their way home. They had about 5K to go, so their work will be done in about 15 minutes or so. I've got about 2:45 to go. So, yeah, it's going to be a long day.
8:05 a.m. ET
I'm at 13K, and the race is beginning to take its toll. Not on me, though - I've actually picked up the pace a bit. But one runner must have been a little sore - he went off the road to run on the softer grass.
8:30 a.m. ET
We just passed 18K, and the part where the marathon and half marathon split. So the half marathoners are going home, while we have a ways to go. We've got the bulk of the race ahead of us � the lonely part where you feel it's a struggle. But you come across things in a race that put it in perspective and make you feel better. I ran the last 2-3K with a guy from Toronto named Mike who was pushing his daughther, Amanda, in a wheelchair. This is the fourth time he's done that at this race, and the ninth time overall. He's done it four times in Boston as well. So when you feel a little sore, you think about that and you know you can do a little bit better.
8:58 a.m. ET
Just passed by the leaders going the other way. I'm only 15K behind them! They're really moving, but they're just a little over a 2:10 pace, so in order to break the record they'll have to pick it up. The race really unfolds over the final 5K. Someone will make a move to try and drop the pack. Those that can stay up will have a shot. Looks like we'll have an exciting finish coming up.
9:03 a.m. ET
Just saw the Joggler at the 30k mark. He's looking good. Looks like he's on pace to break the joggling record.
9:18 a.m. ET
As we approach 29K the sun is beating down and there's still a ways to go. Trying to stay cool. Still hanging on to the pace.
9:39 a.m. ET
I'm in the last 10K, approaching the final turnaround to head back downtown � the homestretch, so to speak. We're now in uncharted territory, at least by my training. I haven't gone over 32K in several months, so this is where determination comes into play. So far I'm managing to hang onto the pace. Although I'm really, really looking forward to the finish.
10:02 a.m. ET
5K to go and I can't say I've hit the wall, but I keep sliding off one that someone puts up every couple hundred metres or so. I've been on my feet now for three hours and two minutes. If I'm able to maintain pace, I should be done in 25 minutes. Heading back towards downtown, every bit of shade right now is very welcome. There's no breeze and it's really warm.
At 32, I still have a great many unfulfilled ambitions. Learning to play Nilsson's Saying Goodbye To Myself on the piano. Seeing dawn in Venice. Finding a hat with wax cherries on it that doesn't make me look demented. This week, I discovered yet another ambition for the list: having a ￡1 million three-year research project.

There are times when it seems that everyone out there has a ￡1 million three-year research project, except me. I can't tell you how many press releases I get about ￡1 million three-year research projects. People are researching pretty much anything you care to think of. They're analysing people's emotions through their choice of shoe. They're studying how dogs interpret complex patterns. They're boning up on the difference between the way "winners" and "losers" walk. These all take three years and they all cost ￡1 million. I guess how it breaks down is: you + four mates from uni on ￡60,000pa x 3, + ￡99,990 for drinks, taxis and pencils = ￡1 million.

Frankly, even though I haven't got a dandy research project, I approve of all of them. We've got to come to some conclusive findings on all these things at some point, and we might as well crack on with it now, while mankind is still relatively young, and we can incorporate these findings into our future lives.

This week's best ￡1 million three-year research project is a case in point. The Engineering and Physical Sciences Research Council ― those guys ― have funded "Positive Soundscapes", an attempt to analyse urban noise. So far, researchers have been surprised to discover that we actually like the sounds of the city. Skateboarders practising in carparks, the rumble of trains, the thud of a heavy bass outside a nightclub ― these are apparently as relaxing as birdsong or whale noise. While previous city planners had presumed that all city noises were vile, and should be eliminated, Positive Soundscapes is suggesting that city noises, when used correctly, can be energising or relaxing, and that we should build cities that funnel these noises "correctly".

Of course, anyone who had listened to the Pet Shop Boys' West End Girls could have told them this back in 1986. West End Girls' intro is the sound of cars on wet city streets, and it's one of the most atmospheric beginnings of a pop song. You can see the broken neon on the wet asphalt ― the girls clacking towards the clubs ― before Neil Tennant has sung a single note. Of course we love city sounds. Although humans are endearingly dim and easily distractible, we do, by and large, do what makes us happy, and there's a reason why 89 per cent of us live in urban areas. And a good part of it is that the low swish of the A10 is far more soothing than country sounds, where animals spend all night murdering each other, or having sex so violent and loud they might as well be murdering each other.

While the sounds of the countryside are all very well for a couple of hours ― during a picnic or a brisk walk ― as a constant background companion, they would be terrifying. Subliminally, what the sound of the wind across the moor, or the rustle of a forest, tells you is: it will take an ambulance at least an hour to get here. However hungry you get, there is no stall vending soup in this locale. And as for a lockable lavatory with soft toilet paper, forget about it.

If you think about it, it's clear that the researchers have been mucking about. They have overlooked approximately a million other classic urban sounds. Liverpudlian transvestites saying cutting things in a chip shop. Black-cab door slamming. White people trying to pronounce the dishes on a Vietnamese menu. Diners whispering "Oh God, look at that!" when a badly-dressed celebrity walks into a restaurant. High heels on pavements. The hiss of espresso machines. The sudden thrum of a bus on a bus-stand starting up, at dawn, in winter. Champagne corks hitting banquette. Lawnmowers in the parks. Municipal fountains echoing in big squares. Bicycle bells ringing in Bloomsbury. A really spoilt child on the Diana Memorial Pirate Ship in Kensington Gardens, screaming what I thought was "I want Mummy!", but actually it turned out to be "I want edamame!"

City sounds are stimulating and/or comforting because they are the sounds of human beings doing things, and we are most at home with the sound of our own species. The city is the exclusive club we've made for human beings, where we've eliminated things like mud, wolves, mosquitoes, quicksand, loneliness and inbreeding. And ratty Barbour jackets, held together with twine. They're the only places in the world made specifically for humans, so of course we feel relaxed. We were just busking in the rainforests and on the plains. We were just desperately trying to "make do" with mud and termites.

In the city, however, we become superhuman. Cities have facilities ― noticeably lacking in meadows. A city's a bit like that bit in Alien where Ripley climbs into the huge robot, and is suddenly able to smash the alien. With our computers and our public transport, our pavements, our pubs and our specialist electrical outlets, the city allows us to make almost anything happen within 24 hours, if we make enough phonecalls, and abuse our overdrafts sufficiently.

And it doesn't matter if you're old, or a woman, or disabled, or "foreign", or very camp and wearing impractical shoes ― you almost lose your physicality in the city. You become a Mekon-brain, with lovely accessories. Your importance isn't ranked on your ability to skin a boar, climb a tree or kill another man by punching him in the eye. You just become a series of thoughts. A series of easily-actionable decisions. A series of sounds.

Really, it's all just a figure of speeches

Much has been made of similarities between Gordon Brown's conference speech, and speeches made by Al Gore and Bill Clinton ― both of whom used the same scriptwriter, Bob Shrum. Phrases include, "This is my pledge ― I will never let you down", "Our country cannot afford to waste the talents of anyone/We don't have a person to waste," and then an anecdote recalling things that all the politicians' mothers had taught them. Well that's fair enough, really. I mean, these are all pretty good things to say, and there are only so many ways you can rephrase them. Particularly if you wish to avoid sounding like one of those impenetrable Clive James TV links from the 1980s. Personally I hope, next conference, Gordon rehashes more classic speeches. I hope he tells us that he has a dream, and the body of a weak and feeble woman, and then weeps "I'm. Mrs. Norman. Maine!" to a standing ovation.

Monster munch

Here's something that Tony Parsons can't do, alongside "write a decent novel" and "grow a fringe": appeal to the cleverness of his readers to solve a mystery. I was pruning my alchemilla last week when something bit, or stung, my finger ― but I have no idea what, and it's driving me nuts. The bite was tiny, bled a little and made a hard, round, beige mark with a dark brown centre. It was pretty painful ― like an electric wasp-sting. My arm swelled up to the elbow for three days, which was quite exciting ― I could play "fat hand, thin hand!" with the kids. So far, it's been suggested that it could be a millipede, an English garden spider or a red ant. Personally, I think it might be a demon, but I know there's someone out there with a tank full of bugs and expert knowledge who can enlighten me.

Bear in mind that I don't want to know if it was small and Kimi Raikkonen cut a frustrated figure after seeing his slim chances of claiming the driver's world championship recede even further at the Japanese Grand Prix thanks to an administrative mix-up.

The Ferrari driver eventually finished third at a rain-swept Fuji Speedway but only after fighting his way up from the back of the field due to an enforced early pit stop.

Heavy rain had seen the organisers decide to begin the race behind the safety car and the stewards had sent an email to all the teams 55 minutes before the race informing them they were to fit extreme wet-weather tyres on safety grounds.

However, the Italian team did not receive the communication until 1.37pm, seven minutes after the start of the race, by which time Raikkonen and team-mate Felipe Massa had already decided to use intermediate tyres.

As a result, the pair were told to come in and change their tyres or risk disqualification, and a third-lap stop dropped the Finn down into 21st place.

"We made a decision to start on intermediates and I didn't really have any problems behind the safety car," Raikkonen said.

"After the race, I heard there were some rules or they forced everybody to start on full wets but the FIA or the race control forgot to tell our team and we had to pit again under the safety car.

"So it cost us a lot but there was nothing we could do at that point.

"We didn't know any e-mails or any new rules that came up and they somehow forgot to tell us, but it's quite an unfair situation to end up with, them forcing you to stop when you don't really want to.

"But that's now behind us. It was quite a difficult race but at least we got something out of it.

"We lost points from Lewis (Hamilton) again but we couldn't do much after the pit stop where we were forced to change tyres."

The FIA said after the race that all teams had confirmed they received the e-mail at 12.37pm except for Ferrari, who for an undetermined reason did not receive notification until an hour later.

That was of little comfort to Raikkonen, who is now 17 points behind championship leader Hamilton with just two rounds to go.

And the 27-year-old insisted that the penalty was all the more detrimental due to the poor weather conditions.

"All race I couldn't do much because I couldn't really see anything," he added.

"I tried to get past people on the lowest part of the circuit because you could see more. If you are in front and you can see something, it makes it a lot easier.

"On the straight I couldn't see the car in front even if it was 50 metres in front of me.

"You're going full throttle, full speed on the straight and hoping nobody is slowing down because you would hit them.

"I went off many times but kept coming back. The car was set up for the dry so it wasn't perfect for the wet.

"We were not sure about the weather conditions today. We were expecting them to be better than yesterday but it wasn't, so it could probably have been better but I don't think it cost us anything. The car was pretty nice to drive."