Honours at Last Ever Lockett's Rockets

Martin had kindly forwarded on my Geneva news to the guys at Lockett's Rockets so I got a fair few questions on the move.

On the way up a mad squirrel got under the Rockets and darted through the group in random directions before scurrying off towards the school. It nearly knocked over about three rockets and had the rest in stitches.

The lovely Sarah was there. I started to mention Simon-without-showers, but she cut me off. I don't work there anymore, there are no communal showers, each company has their own showers and if his doesn't there is a fitness first on the other side of the road. Actually, she summed it up nicely with "Tell him to join the f(censored)ing gym." So, sorry Simon looks there is no such thing as a free shower in the city.

Today was to be my last ever Lockett's Rockets and I was very touched to be closely consulted on calling the session (6 by 4 off 1, with 2 at the turn) and being ceremonially shoved to the front and made to lead the first rep.

Ok guys, the elite nod, fingers on stopwatches, and I shout AWAY! What an honour. All 15 or so Rockets are behind me and I set the pace, but within second Alan Barnes and the guy with the special shoes for reps go past, but Andy Weir calls a halt to that and gives me a minute at what feels like 100m pace before letting the rest of the elite go through. By the end of rep one it is B runners behind and I jog backwards through the recovery to find my C friends. Luckily Paul had brought some newbies along and I'd dragged Andrew along to see how it works. He even managed the first rep and then ran along behind.

I had Karen and Steve around me on rep two, but they pushed away and I eased through the third. During the 2 mins at half way we all kinnda regrouped and I decided to try to hold Sarah rather than Steve. Paul was cunningly only using 80 percent power saving himself for Sunday's Fred Hughes 10 miles and monitoring incoming bikes, checking for heelstrikes and generally enjoying the view from the back.

Rep five was a cracker. Steve and Sarah and I were all level and Steve made a break for it. He was looking around to see if I'd gone with him, but I just stayed tucked behind Sarah. He'd pushed too hard to get by and so as Sarah cranked the pace up slowly in response he could do nothing about it when Sarah and I overtook him. He was clearly gutted by that. By now I'd had enough and rep six was hardly a rep as it was so slow Paul was actually talking to me during it.

The clip back was predictably fast given the high number of elite out today, but it fine.

So that's it. I'm swapping the Regents Canal for the Rhone, the muddy puddles for Lac Leman, Green Park hill for the Alps. But the Rocket inside is there for ever. The times at the canal have been a mixture of agony, joy, laughs and the surreal. I've learnt much about myself here and will surely miss that noon calling to pain.

And I've found an ex-rocket who works in Geneva and has invited me to join her for some lunch time running. Could this be the start of Les Fusées Genevois?