ATHLETICS: When Alistair Cragg reflects on his first Olympic 5,000 metres final he mightn't be so hard on himself. He might realise the extent of his achievement, even appreciate, at 24, he was part of one of the greatest distance races of all time.

But for now he's not looking on the bright side. Finishing 12th in 13 minutes 43.06 seconds wasn't settling well. The time was irrelevant considering the stop-start nature of the race and no one had predicted him doing a whole lot better and yet there was no satisfaction.

For a start he felt the occasion got the better of him. When they'd gathered in the silence of the call room he realised he knew every one of his opponents. And none of them knew him. It was 10 minutes before the start and he felt things falling apart. Then when they crawled around the opening laps, running only in surges, he discovered Olympic 5,000 metre running has a different rhythm. It kills the best-laid tactics.

"Yeah, I think I was doubting the two different tactics," he said, "and that got the better of me. The tactic in my mind was to keep it constant, run my fastest race, and get to the finish wherever that left me. But then I just got stuck in the race it was. They went around and I felt good and I just covered the moves. But when you cover a move, then you start doubting if that was your tactic. So that was stupid, and quite immature running.

"And when I consciously slowed down, they kept pulling a metre or two every 100 metres. It's the minute you consciously slow down, and then try to get back on your toes, it's like wow, there's nothing there. My legs are fresh, and my lungs are fine. And I would have done anything to close those gaps. I just couldn't get back on my toes. I just ran like a school kid."

Cragg was still well placed at 3,000 metres. Then Kenenisa Bekele dropped a 60.9 lap. Cragg was soon running alone. "Then I just got caught up in what I was running for and everything. I had too much time on my own. And when you hear the crowd and the odd lonely soul shouting for you out in the stands, that can be more demoralising than encouraging at times.

"I wanted to be comfortable, but I was never comfortable. They knew what they were doing, I didn't. Obviously I'll try to learn from this. I'm not going to put it in a drawer and lock it away. But it was an opportunity to do something great. It is a higher level, but I want to take that step. And the longer I'm waiting to take it, the harder it's going to get."

Cragg will run the 3,000 metres in Brussels on Friday night to try to run out some of the disappointment. He was born in South Africa but wanted to make a firmer statement about what it meant to be running for Ireland. "Well I wasn't in it. I was on the start list and that's it. I'm not going to say there was a lot of pressure. But if I did sit down and think about it, running for a country like Ireland is not an easy thing to do. I was walking past strangers in the crowd and they all knew me. That's a hard thing when you're living in a small town in America.

"But I have to thank everyone who helped me come here. I've changed countries and I've had a lot of support, and been so well accepted by the federation and the society and everything else that comes along with being Irish. And I wouldn't be in Athens today without that help.

"I know there are a lot of people saying I'm not Irish . . . But I'm out there and running with as much feeling as I think any Irish-born athlete will have. And probably a little bit more, because I feel like I owe a lot. So I guess that's what really burns my heart right now, I haven't done justice to those who've helped me. But it will come."