Fifteen Minutes

Was it Andy Warhol or Kirsty MacColl who said something poignant about fame? No, I can't remember either. It's surprising how easy it is to get those two mixed up.

Anyway, whatever it was, I rather suspect that my fifteen minutes has been and gone. Did I enjoy it? Well it was a nice surprise - a bit like putting on a coat you haven't worn for a while and finding a lolly in the pocket. Unsucked obviously.

What am I talking about? Well, unbeknownst to me, the Rotorua Half Marathon organisers had chosen to use a photograph of me from last year's race as the promotional picture for the 2016 event. I know - mad.

I first became aware when Sarah showed me her Facebook feed and there I was, beaming from ear to ear in my bright orange Stirling Sport Half Marathon vest (it's really comfortable - honest!) . I first assumed that there was some clever algorithm at play - one that chooses the promotional picture of a Facebook friend to encourage other to enter. Pondering on this theory on the way to work, I'd decided that it would be far too difficult to achieve. How did they link the participants race number to a Facebook account? There are some clever programmers out there, and social media is creeping into every facet of life, but surely this would be too large a step?

The answer came within a few minutes of arriving at my desk when a colleague piped up "How are you on my Facebook feed?," before adding, "It is you isn't it?". And with a quick flick of his wrist, I was face-to-face with my image once again. So it was true then, I was an internet sensation. Who'd have thought it. At my age!

Comments generally fell into one of four categories;

1/. Did you do this yourself? 

2/. Did you enter a competition?

3/. How much did you pay?

4/. Oh, I didn't know you'd won the race!

I don't know whether I should be offended that people thought I'd take the time to mock up a fake advert, or that I'd be so vain to enter a competition to have my image used for advertising material. And the fact that I'd pay for it was quite frankly ludicrous - obviously they don't know that I have Yorkshire heritage. I do, however, quite like the thought that they thought I would be good enough to win the race. Maybe one day?

As far as the photograph goes, I remember it well. I had recently reached the highest point on the course and was running back through the Redwoods - a stunning spot and definitely worth a visit - and although there was still nearly 10k to go, it was pretty much all downhill from here. I was riding a wave of euphoria, or maybe exhaustion, when I saw the photographer and out went the arms. 

It's a great shot, if I do say so myself, especially when most of the other pictures taken of me whilst running make me look as if I've lost control of my limbs, whilst simultaneously taking part in a gurning competition.

My only regret with this brush with fame is that, had I known, I might have made a bit more of an effort. Chosen smarter running gear, had a quick refresh around the corner or done something with my hair?  Okay, maybe not the last one, but certainly a less orangey top wouldn't have gone amiss!