Sunday 26th March
Before I go any further, I've added lots of photos to my photosite, so have a look at
http://www.photobox.co.uk/album/thumbnails.html?c_album=2713337

Just got back from the Closing Ceremony. Pretty good. Very relaxed and we actually got to see the whole show. Best bits for me were the snowstorm and the warm-up act (before the televised bits) who got the 85,000 audience to simultaneously flash their digital cameras before instigating the world's first 'camera flash Mexican wave'. Amazing. Add that to the man who was 'juggling' two ping-pong balls in and out of his mouth yesterday, and I've had an entertaining weekend.
The list of 'top names' playing during the Ceremony drew blank faces from most of the visiting athletes, but it was a great show. If you saw it on tv, then you'll know all about the hundreds of girls dressed up as Dame Edna Everidge. Wierd but they looked great.

The road race was fantastic. Poor Andy Cook was pushed into the barriers on the first corner. The location of his wounds will not make for a pleasant flight home. On a hot day, it was hard work standing and watching, but the Manx lads rode really well.

Heading home tomorrow. Desperate to see Cal and the boys. Melbourne might have a Mayor who, one spectator this evening told me, 'can't string two words together', (for some reason everyone cheered loudly every time his name - John So - was mentioned) but it is a wonderful, scenic city and it is mad about sport.

Saturday 25th March
Had trouble getting out of bed this morning. Felt very sore. Isla gave me a gentle massage which helped. Shin is swollen and sore and I can't lock left knee or left arm properly. Apart from that I'm fine. Time to face facts I think.
We are so lucky to go and watch the athletics every evening. The Aussies will scream at anything in green and gold (so South Africa's gold and green kit causes a few false 'ooohs' and 'ahhhs' among the 85,000) and tonight was no exception. At one point the local lad in the triple jump was virtually carried down the runway on a wave of euphoric home cheering. He jumped a big one too, but got the red flag for his take-off. The booing for the raising of the red flag was incredible. They love winners here - as long as they're from here.

What can I say? Plenty actually. Fantastic performances from all the medallists - Deakes was incredible, he looked so relaxed and controlled throughout. A man behind me at the Rugby 7's who told me 'to get used to seeing Deakes' backside disappearing into the distance' was spot-on. If I had to be lapped repeatedly, I'd chose it to be by him - each time he said 'Keep it going Steve'. Tony Sargisson had the race of his life, posting negative splits. Hat's off to Duane Cousins - dq'd in the final 5km, but big enough to stay around and applaud his team mates over the line.

Faster start for me than I anticiapted, but the sun was in and it felt comfortable. My aches and pains troubled me for the first few laps, but then I got into that great 'cruising' mode. You know - when it all feels flowing and easy and you could keep it going all day. Well, for an hour or two maybe. At 25km I think that I was heading for 4:15 time, and I started thinking 'this isn't as hot as I'd feared, maybe it will be my day after all'. Still on PB pace at 30km, but the sun had been out for two hours and it was getting harder. By 35km it was a case of trying to control the slide (I was listening to your advice Murray), but there was only one way I was going. Slower. The last 14km were a real grind, but the crowd never gave me any peace with constant support around the 2km lap. Thanks to everyone who made a special trip to shout me on - you know who you were.
I've made no bones about this being my last attempt to make a Commonwealth team - so were there any regrets as I stumbled over the line? None - well, perhaps I should have done the 20km instead.

Day started with a forced breakfast at 5.45am. We had to fight our way past the returning night-clubbers who were queuing for coffee and staring blankly at plates of chips. Then the silent 20 minute bus ride, trying to keep positive and keep my cornflakes and toast down. Nathan Deakes used his experience from the 20km to direct the driver to the venue, and before I knew it I was in the holding room, trying to keep drinking and delaying my final trip to the loo. It was a frantic period of applying cream. Suncream, footcream, Vaseline and Voltarol. Working on the 'prevention better than cure' approach, both legs got a full Voltarol rub-down.
A nice lady stuck a tiny piece of tape over one of the tiny logos on my fake sunglasses, a pleasing sprint for a final wee (must be hydrated now), and we were 'on'.
Four and a half hours later and I was off. Off for some hat, t-shirt and flag-spoiling autographs and then off for a drugs test. My Commonwealth career started with a drugs test, so it was fitting that it finished with one too. The 1986 version took three hours as my family waited outside in the Edinburgh rain. I'm obviously a better athlete now - this one only took an hour. A pb after all.

Thursday 23rd March
I'm sure I've lost weight while I've been here. Despite the treats on offer 24 hours a day, I haven't seen, let alone eaten, biscuits, crisps or chocolate for nearly three weeks. These have been replaced by fruit. There's a big fruit counter as you leave the dining hall, and I've been taking two or three items to see me through to the next meal.
Anyway, I hadn't thought about this until today - the day I'm supposed to be stocking up on my energy levels. So I had three flapjacks this afterrnoon after my mountain of pasta.
Spent most of the day shortening and sewing up the hem on my vest. I had to use three colours of cotton and it isn't perfectly straight, but there's no denying the craftsmanship. Didn't go to the track this evening (a hard decision) but, sort of, went to bed early. I watched the women's high-jump on tele first. Alarm set and asleep - to dream of rain and medals.

Wednesday 22nd March
It's started already. Them and us. The athletes who've finished their competition and those of us that haven't.
They're smiling all the time, eating ice creams, burgers and chips. We are smiling some of the time, eating pasta, salads and rice. They are wearing civvies and heading into town in the evening for a few beers. We are wearing team kit and heading to the dining hall for another bottle of water.

Martin understandably decided against watching the men's high-jump final this evening. So, after a note from the house-keeping team in the Village ('because of the untidy nature of your room, we can't change your bedding as we are unable to reach your bed'), while he should have been jumping for glory in front of 76,000 spectators, he was in fact tidying his bedroom.

During the worst of Allan's snoring last night (the first time he's kept me awake), it was like he was doing a rep. session. He'd start steadily, but the volume would increase over a minute or so, with a final rasping 'sprint' to a wake-the-house crescendo. Then he'd snuffle for about twenty seconds of near quiet, before the next one started. If he wakes me tonight, he'll be outside.

Another entry today in the 50km. If they delay the race for a week or so, we might get up to 20. The Malaysian who was dq'd early in the 20km is in the 50km too. Great. The more the merrier. Today is a day of sitting and waiting, eating and drinking, icing and geling, calling up the clouds and rain-dancing.
Thanks for all the messages of support. I won't be thinking of you during the race, but it's good to know that you might be thinking of me.

Tuesday 21st March
Ten entries for the 50km. Well, it's probably nine now, as the Fijian who'd entered both races was carted off the 20km course on a stretcher after 6km. Guess what? A late entry (seemingly some countries can do it!) is Nigerian Charles Ansoyrayan (that's close enough) who completed the Parish a few years ago! He's already asked Allan for an entry form for this year's Parish!
There's loads of letters in the local papers here about the Australian-biased tv coverage. Cav's win has been mentioned numerous times (along with photos) as the classic 'little country win snubbed by the Aussie publicity machine'. We love it. On the buses, trams and in town, everyone seems to have suddenly heard of the Isle of Man.

Monday 20th March
Martin did not make the high-jump final. There were 23 entries and 12 made it through. Despite only seven athletes jumping higher than him, Martin missed out on count-back, finishing 13th. There's nothing you can say, so I didn't.
The 20km walks were a great success - especially if you were an Aussie. Top three in both. A real masterclass. At least with Nathan winning the 20km, there will be lots of interest on Friday when he goes for the double. I'd have loved to do both, but I'm unfortunately human.
Great to see all five English get to the finish. It was warmer than it looked.

Sunday 19th March
There were tickets available for this morning's heats of the Scratch Race at the velodrome, so after taking in the early miles of the marathon (amazing crowds) I joined the Kelly's and the Bellis' (not too sure where the apostrophe should go there...) in the massive crowd of less than a dozen.
Qualification eased Cav, Mark and Jonny into tonight's 24-man final. After the Points Race, there was a real buzz around the Manx team and all I needed to make sure was that I saw it. Unsurprisingly there were no spare tickets for the final, and only the great and the good got to actually be there. The rest of us crowded around the tv in the IOM Team Office which is actually a port-a-cabin. With every chair booked hours in advance and a place on the floor at a premium, the atmosphere was electric. OK, I'm lying. Most of the viewers only got electrified after Cav and four others got their all-important lap and realised that a medal might just be on. As the race progressed things got more heated in the confines of the office and there were cheers everytime our riders were featured.
You know the rest. Mayhem. Cheers and tears. About two minutes after we'd all stood and helped Cav sing 'Oh Land of Our Birth' someone got a bottle of wine out of the fridge (obviously kept just for medal-wins) and paper cups of plonk were raised to our first gold-medallist in twenty years.

About three hours later, our first gold-medallist in twenty years arrived back at the village. This was an hour or so after the lucky few who had seen the event live arrived back, via the off-licence, with champagne. Someone found some beers as well, and so, by the time Cav and his team mates got back, the celebrations were in full swing. As befits a World Champion, Mark took it all in his stride and perhaps looked least excited of us all.
Before I went off to bed, I asked him what he had planned for the day after his Gold Medal.
"130km steady". Enough said.

Saturday 18th March
I came here hoping for a good ten days of training before easing down and preparing for the race. It hasn't quite happened like that. I picked up a shin problem after my first longer session, and it hasn't cleared as I expected. I've been testing it out every other day, only to then miss a day to let it recover. I'm now missing two days and training one...
Don't be too depressed by all the doom and gloom though - today's session was OK. It hurt for a while, but eased off and I did 90 minutes. Great! Only another three hours and I'll be fine.

The beauty of being part of a small team like ours (26 competitors) is that we have a great team spirit. We all know each other and take a genuine interest in each other's events. Swimmers know about shooters just as cyclists know about gymnastics.
Never was this more evident than today - when the IOM won it's eighth-ever medal - the first since Dave Moore's silver in 1998! The Olympic Trap pair of Wilfy and Trevor picked up bronze and the news travelled like wildfire. I was half way through a two hour wait outside the velodrome, when Joan Harrop told me that we'd won. By the time I got back the Manx office was heaving. Everyone was drinking wine in paper cups and waiting for the boys to arrive back. Congratulations, handshakes and kisses all round - a real team event and hopefully a taste of things to come.
After yesterday's 'easy entry' to the rugby, I tried a similar trick with the velodrome. This time I was alone on the bus, and, with ten guards on the gate, my plan was scuppered before I tried. Pleading didn't work. 'I'm desperate for the toilet' didn't work. Hanging around looking pitiful didn't work. So I waited, wished Jonny, Cav and Mark luck when they turned up, and came back to see the 40km points race on TV. Brilliant event - Mark K. was 5th - the office was crammed to bursting around the little tv.

Thursday 16th March
Went to the Rugby 7's this evening with the 66% of the clay shooters. It turned out to be a five hour, 12 match marathon, and it was brilliant. 30,000 people were in the Telstra Dome as Tim Kneale and I arrived in the Cook Islands team bus. Not only did one (presumably visually impaired) team official ask us if we were playing(!), but we were then ushered into the bowels of the stadium with the team. We made our apologies (they went on to play really well without us) and found our seats.
Two games in and the highlight was unfancied Uganda getting a try against South Africa. The crowd went wild. It was amazing. Whenever a small team came up against a big team, the minnows got the major support and if they had the audacity to score, or even look like scoring, the place erupted. All around us were supporters of all the teams - all mixed together and all shouting for their team or whichever one took their fancy.
Mexican waves were regular highlights, although the one where Neil stood up and dumped his beer on the chap behind cooled IOM-AUS relations for five minutes or so.
The games were superb, but the highlight was the half-time entertainment. Two teams of three were picked from the crowd. Each team had ten balls fired high into the sky by a machine and they had to catch as many as possible. I'm easily pleased.

There was a bus journey, a few hours waiting in the gymnastics hall, a long walk, another wait and then we got to enter the Stadium. It was the most sociable and unregimented (for the teams) Ceremony yet for me. The fireworks were amazing. We couldn't see the crowd at all due to the lights, and most of the 'show' had been and gone by then. We left the village at about 5.30pm and got back about 12.30am.
For the organisers, participants, spectators and tv viewers around the world the Opening Ceremony is a big deal. For competitors it's different. Don't get me wrong - the start of the Games is eagerly awaited and there are few feelings to match the tingle you get when you enter the stadium as part of your national team. However, for athletes, the Ceremony is just the start. From here on in it gets serious.
In the IOM team tonight there were two young first-time Gamers. One decided to go to the Ceremony and one didn't. A few Games ago there would have been raised eyebrows if someone asked to be excused. Now the athletes are given their rightful choice. I bet that there isn't a single competitor who would not exchange their opening ceremony for one place higher, one minute faster or one centimetre higher in their event result. As long as that is the case, we're here for the right reasons.

Tuesday 14th March

Came across my first Melbourne dog shit today. Imagine that? For well over a week I've been training in parks around the city and that was the first one. If only Douglas parks were as clean.
People here have all heard of the Isle of Man. 'Ah, thats near France isn't it?', 'it's a Channel Island', 'that's where they have the yacht races', 'it's at the bottom of England' and 'it's at the top of Wales' have all been heard this past week. To be fair, 'at the top of Wales' is pretty close.
I think that the Dept. Tourism have missed a golden opportunity. We are 40 odd Manxies, spending three weeks in and around a major foreign city. Next year is the long-awaited (100 years?) Centenary of the TT Races. Australia are bike-mad. Melbourne is full of bike shops and there are motorbikes everywhere. We should all have TT 2007 t.shirts to wear and posters, badges, stickers etc to hand out.
Opening Ceremony tomorrow. My shin is sore.

Having apparently been sold out long ago, the organisers today released an extra 22,000 tickets for some of the Games' biggest events. This follows on from a recent tour of the venues to see where 'extra seating could be accomodated'. Local cynics aren't convinced - a man on the tram into town today told me that, in his view, 'they were hoping last-minute hype and demand would fill the empty seats'. Judging by the queues at the central ticket office this afternoon, it looks to have worked.
Mystery surrounds the format of the Opening Ceremony. There have been two dress rehearsals at the enormous MCG, over which helicoptors have been banned from flying for fear that they would broadcast the show! In the Yarra River outside the stadium and adding to the intrigue is a 400m line of barges on which are 71 giant metallic fish - a different one for each Commonwealth country. What do you reckon the Manx fish is?
Running alongside the Games is 'Festival Melbourne 2006' - music and street theatre from around the world. Venues are littered around the city and there seems to be something going all all the time. Spectators are not allowed to drive to the main stadiums - public transport is free with a venue ticket - and all along the walkway back into the city centre will be stages and shows. It seems to be a brilliant set-up. Apart from reggae legend Jimmy Cliff, a must-see act for me is Carolyn Connors - 'a talented grandmother who shares her life's wisdoms while playing a unique style of drum and bass on her accordian'.
It was cool (just 25C) and overcast. Bliss.

Sunday 12th March

I wouldn't mention it unless it was important. It was 38C at the athletics meeting we went to in Bendigo today. A local track meet welcomed some high-class performers (including the Nigerian women's relay squads) and it was a pleasing combination of the grass-roots and the elite. It's fair to say that the Bendigo organisers were laid-back in their approach and there was a relaxed atmosphere throughout. The fields for the hammer, long-jump, discus, pole-vault and 800m were all mixed. The main man walked around with a microphone - part commentator, part announcer. Before and after the hurdles, he asked for people from the crowd (who were huddled together in the shade of the stand) to help set them up and take them down. Apparently the heat is nothing out of the ordinary for the locals - most of whom wore jeans and long sleeves, but it must have put off a few visiting entrants as the 3000m and the ladies steeplechase had just one runner in each.
Martin was disappointed with his jumping. He started well, (flying over 2.00m in warm-up wearing every bit of clothes he had with him) but a problem with his take-off position(don't quote me on that) meant he went out going for 2.10. He now has a pre-planned three day training stint in Bendigo before he returns to our crowded room on Wednesday.
Even without Martin's oxygen requirement, Allan assures me that his digital thermometer was at 37C in our (non air-conditioned) room when he woke up in the night. I also woke... (you'll like this bit) later on with a wet head. The rain had come in through my wide-open window.

It was hot today. I'll leave it at that as I know it's wet/cold/windy at home. I trained on a route around the river near the Commonwealth Stadium. Each lap took in a smooth tarmac path and when we saw it on Thursday, it was very quiet.
Today was Saturday and it wasn't. There are public barbeques alongside the path - you put your two dollars in and throw on your meat. Saturday is obviously barbie day here in Melbourne and by lap three of fifteen it was heaving. Whole, extended families took over each barbeque and were soon standing across the path muching on burgers and salad. They were great though, and I hardly had to leave the path - they all moved out of my way and cleared a 'tour de France' style path as I approached.
Went to watch an Aussie Rules Football match this evening. Fantastic. Took me until half time (when I had a chat with an elderly fan - complete with team socks) to work out the basics, but what a game. Non-stop, end to end action. No rolling around when they fall over here - smack, and straight up. Punches mean trouble from the ref, so there was plenty of shoulder barging and eye-balling instead. Four referees, guys in dayglo green who run on willy-nilly during play to pass on tactics, a seven foot giant on one team and a crowd that was passionate and friendly to their rival supporters (no segregation here) made for a memorable evening.