Ealing Half Marathon 2015

There I stood; beneath the trees lining the path that lead down to the main field; watching the mist rise slowly revealing sponsor stall after sponsor stall; taking in as much as I could from this experience.

One or two other runners; who had also arrived early; strolled around casually, a few more sat on the grass; beneath other trees; reading books or listening to music through their headphones.  

It was the morning of the 2014 Ealing Half Marathon; my first official half marathon race; and the scene was remarkably calm compared with the bundle of nerves that were flushing around within my stomach.  

I hadn’t known what to expect; I was there on my own; had the largest kit bag I could have ever have chosen to fill; extra clothing, some food, a reading book and a beer for celebrating at the end.

Everything bundled together throughout the day, I made all the common rookie mistakes; wore too much gear, placed myself in the wrong starting area, flew out of the blocks too quickly, didn’t look at the route before the run; which meant that I didn’t know about just how hilly the route was, and therefore suffered a little when I did hit the hilly sections, etc etc etc…

I finished that race; just about; in a time of 1:52:29; found the friends that had come to see me there at the end and literally collapsed at their feet as I fought to gather my breath.  

Roll the clock forward one year; four half marathons, one marathon, four 10k races and one 5k Spartan obstacle race; and you end up right back in the same place; Sunday, September 27^th; and the morning of the 2015 Ealing Half Marathon.  

I wasn’t as early as I was the year before. I didn’t have time to take in the atmosphere, or the serenity of a misty Sunday morning. No, this time I managed to park my car in the lot that I know of near Ealing Broadway tube station (£1 for the entire day!! Brilliant value); rushed down to the event location, threw my bag into the baggage tent; ran up to the starting block and got into position just before the starting time of 9am. Thankfully we started a little late though due to waiting for the course to be made 100% clear.

I hate starting races like that. I like to get there, get settled in, have a walk around, do some people watching, pick out the newbies, have a giggle as I think back to when I first started, and how I used to be just like those few people who are clearly attending their first proper event. I thought back to that ridiculously huge bag I had; how much I’ve learned over the last year etc…! 

Eventually we set off, slowly getting across the start line and heading on up the road, 13.1 miles of nostalgic bliss; 21.1km of efficiently timed; paced out; running. I was not letting this run beat me; Kimbolton beat me; GNR beat me; Ealing was not going to do the same; my Puma Points Challenge team deserved a Captains’ effort; my Running Bug history deserved a super users’ effort; and the event itself deserved the respect of a well thought out plan.

It was on!  

My current HM PB was sitting at 01:32:37, and had been that way since July. I hadn’t actually set a PB for any distance through the month of August; a big no no in my books since I have set at least one personal best at some point through each month of the year so far and I was due a personal best!  

I had set myself the target of finishing in a time of 01:31:30; that would be a pacing per kilometre of 4:21; I figured I could manage that comfortably. I sat with my notebook through Saturday night, working out the different 5k and 10k sectors; all I needed to do was run each 5km sector in 21:56, this subsequently meant two 10k split times of 43:52 respectively.

These split times would get me to 20km in a time of 01:27:00 leaving me 4mins and 30seconds in which to complete the additional 1.1km to complete the distance, and hit my target.

Not only was I certain that I could run the 5k sectors, in the time I had stipulated, but if I struggled to run two 10k splits in nearly 44mins each, then there would have definitely been something wrong. It was the final 1.1km in 4:30 that concerned me; I knew that at some point I would need to take a kilometre at pace in order to remove that from the equation.

All of this math was running through my head, it had been for a couple of days already, all this math for someone who didn’t even do math at school; oh how my old teachers would have stood jaw to the floor if they could see me now!  

We crossed the first kilometre in 4:20; job done; let’s keep it that way. I clenched my fist; gave the air a little punch and allowed myself a bit of a positive mental boost. We crossed kilometres two and three in exactly the same pace times; I was running perfectly. For some reason I increased the pace through the fourth as it dropped to 4:09, but a little bit of an incline up and over into the fifth brought that pace back in line at 4:21. It was still on; it was still good; and I was still feeling right on the money. The fifth kilometre lead down into the sixth; obviously; and I was flying, but I didn’t want to get carried away and held back a little until I suddenly thought about that final 1.1km; the kilometre that required a faster pace!

“Why not bust that out now?” I asked myself; we had just crossed the first 5km sector in 21:30; 26seconds inside of my target time; effectively 26seconds in the bank!

“Turn it on Dorsett; use this to your advantage while you can!”

I didn’t push myself to my limit; I didn’t want to make the mistakes of previous races; it was still too early for that but I still managed a 4:01 through that sixth kilometre. I actually found myself running with the 1hr30 pacers and thought about sticking with them for a while, but I knew that that would mean running at about 4:15pkm for the rest of the run, and I wasn’t mentally prepared for that since I had geared everything towards running a complete average of 4:21.  

I must quickly say, the pacers at EHM are awesome. They operate as a two man team and guide their followers through each section of the route really well. As I ran with them for a little we hit a minor incline; “RIGHT; 130 FINISHERS!” one of them shouted; “LET’S TAKE THIS LITTLE HILL AND THEN IT’S OVER AND DOWN FOR A GOOD FEW KILOMETRES. KEEP IT GOING; YOU’RE DOING WELL!”  

“Right Andrew; time to pull back a little now and just compose yourself, let’s not get carried away with this group!” so I let them go.

It was a lesson well learned from my visit here last year. Last year I tried to stick with the 1:50 pacers, felt that they were running too easily and flew off up ahead only to end up struggling and then watching the pacer come flying by me with about 5k to go. It was soul destroying to watch them go past me as they did and I wasn’t letting that happen to me again so I did as I said to myself and just pulled back a little. 

I went through seven, eight and nine with relative ease; watching my pace and allowing a little comfort with splits of 4:12; 4:25 & 4:23 respectively. I was still well within the target pace and then completed the tenth kilometre in a faster time again of 4:12 which meant that I had completed the first 10k sector in 42:43; a clear 1:09 within target pace; but the heat was beginning to play on the body; the traffic became a little congested, and the route was getting a little more technical with a lot of sharp turns left and right. It was here that I started feeling a buzzing sensation through my head, something wasn’t right. I felt this same thing at GNR to be honest, and I’m pretty sure it’s due to the fact that I am simply not hydrating well enough through the race as I don’t really take on any fluids as I run; so I grabbed a bottle at the next water station, had a few sips and soon felt much better. Note to self really; don’t be an idiot; take on water!  

Kilometres eleven through sixteen are all very up and down and my times reflected that, but I was still not going too badly; and was actually running fairly strong, but there was an issue; I had a nuisance in my ears which was putting me off my stride!

There was a guy who had been running alongside me for a kilometre or two and the sound that he was generating was just putting me off so much. I know it isn’t nice to say; and I’m not trying to sound nasty or anything; but the force with which he was slamming his feet into the ground was really bugging me. All I could think was that he was the reason people moan about sore knees; which felt even more applicable as I looked at his legs and noticed both knees heavily strapped.

“Maybe try being a little more light on your feet and you wouldn’t need those straps mate!” I thought to myself, and then couldn’t take it anymore and just popped the pace a little in order to break away from him and his big, heavy shoes slamming the ground with each bounding stride that he took.

Thankfully he couldn’t keep up, and my focus soon returned to the near silence of my own footfall and evenly paced breathing. Thankfully; I was getting back on track.  

As we entered the final sector of the race and kicked back a SiS gel that I had; nicely hidden away in my pocket; ready for the final 5k race. The pace began to pick up again and it was time to start working out the math as the race drew to a close. “Would I have enough time to get this done in time?”

“How many kilometres did we have left, and how much time did I have left in which to finish them?”

“About 3k to go, and approximately fourteen minutes in which to do them.”

That worked out to 3km @ 4:30pkm with a 30second sprint over the final 100m; IF the course was accurate!

That pace; over that distance; was easily achievable, and after having a little bit of a panic due to suddenly not feeling very strong for some reason, the gel from a kilometre or so back started to kick in.

I felt the energy shiver through my legs. I started to revel in the knowledge that I now had a PB in the bag, but I didn’t want to get carried away with myself. I knew the ending of this course; I remember it being a very sneaky; and a somewhat false finale!  

The final kilometre starts; pretty much; on the starting area and leads you down into; and through; Lammas’ Park. It takes you down the pathway through the park for about 500m through the trees with a slight bend to the left and continue on for another few hundred metres. You then take another left, only this time a more sharply and ground kicks up ever so slightly. It’s about 400m to the end from here and the very gradual incline feels like it goes on for double the distance before kicking you off onto the grass for the final 100m and across the finish line.

The entire way through that final kilometre had me glancing at my watch constantly; watching as the seconds ticked over ever nearer to my current PB time. I was tired, and I felt a little sickly, but as I saw the time cross over my target of 1:31:30 I kicked one last time and sprinted for that line, clenching my fist and shouting at the timing mats as I stopped my watch.

I wasn’t 100% certain that I had achieved a new PB given that I always go by the official chip times for race situations, and am used to courses not being exact to the distance on my watch, but things looked pretty bang on this time.  

I had cross the line with the exact distance for a half marathon, if there was a difference at all, it wouldn’t be by much. I was confident of a personal best, but I kept my composure and waited for the official results to come through later in the day; hopefully!  

It was a strange way to finish my race though to be honest; nobody there for me; no friends, no family, in a place that I had once called home yet felt like just another person that had journeyed into London to complete another run. I took a few minutes to myself to just reflect on the run, run through my post run routine of stretches etc… and then made my way to the barriers and tape so that I could provide my own support to those still coming in behind me.

As I stood amongst different crowds of “supporters” I shouted and clapped as loudly as I could for those still running, and then barked at the people stood idly by; not cheering, or clapping, or doing anything! Just stood looking at me as if I were on some kind of drug!  

“Show some support dammit, don’t just look at me like I’m a raving lunatic, these people are doing something awesome!” … I get annoyed when people just stand in groups of silence not cheering; why stand there if you aren’t going to support. Don’t get me wrong, the support at EHM is good, I just get annoyed when groups of people stand there literally

I made my way further and further up the line, clapping all the way, stopping every few meters to shout words of encouragement to the strangers running past everybody; trying to urge more of those around me to get louder. One other runner ahead of me was cheering just as much though as we both walked and stopped at roughly the same times.

“Top support that man up ahead!” I shouted at him. The guy turned, and returned the compliment. We high fived and introduced ourselves to one another. Rashad was his name, a Bangladeshi born gent schooled in the States. He had also completed the run in a PB time; “beat my time by about 6mins!” he said.

“Awesome; what was your time” I asked.

“1:24!”

“Wowsers!! That’s awesome, well done you!”

We walked together back up into Ealing Broadway, discussing our histories in running, and how we came to be at this point that we were at. It turned out that he was actually an ultra-runner and had completed a number of 100k events, but had only recently taken up running official half marathons! I was grateful to myself for making my initial comment to him about his level of support for those finishing after us. If I hadn’t sparked the conversation it would have been a much more lonely walk back into the broadway, and it really helped to remove that level of lonely nostalgia that had tried to work its way into the end of my run.   

I got into my car, sat for a minute, allowing myself a last little bit of reflection on the entire morning.

For some reason it almost felt as if it were the last time I would sitting there really. There isn’t anybody left in the neighbourhood for me to have a reason to visit anymore, and I had achieved my goal of beating my previous time by some margin.

I started the car and drove off, back on the road to home where I awaited my official chip time.  

When my official time did eventually come through I was over the moon. Not only had I beaten my time, and set a new personal best of 01:31:52, but I had managed to start; and stop; my watch at exactly the right times as the timing technology. My chip time matched my Garmin details to the second! I’m a stickler for details like that so it just rounded my entire day off rather nicely.  

It had been a great day. It had had its moments, its ups and its downs. It had me worried, it had me feeling confident, a complete mixed bag of emotions, but in the end everything had been an overwhelming success. If anybody ever has any thoughts about running the Ealing Half, I would do it; it really is a good route, and it is very well organised.

So that was that, my circle complete, EHM ’14-’15, I had; as said; achieved the goal of beating my first time by a significant margin. I had earned a personal best for my Puma Points Challenge team; Team Momentum; but this leaves just one more target to hit.

One more race to be treated with an air of competitiveness.

The target of the sub 90 half.

My home town race; Sunday, November the 15th.

The St Neots Half Marathon.

#EalingFeeling

#TeamMomentum

#PUMApoints

#therunningbug

#WhatsInTheBox

#RoadToSub90

 

 

 

 

 

PUMA Points Great North Run Running Bug Captains’ Weekender:

If I were able to summarise one weekend into a single word it would be “wow!”. However; this is me we are speaking about, and we all know that the me you know can’t just simply write a single word. Nor can I simply write a short sentence to summarise what was a weekend that will; most likely; stay with me for a very; very; long time.

I won’t bore you with all of the travel and pre-race antics that took place, but let me at least summarise this into as short a paragraph as I can; simply to give you a feel for what contributed to a very memorable weekend, with people who I now truly consider to be dear friends. 

The weekend I speak of was that of the Great North Run; Saturday September 12th to Sunday 13th; and yet another event that myself and the other captains of The Running Bug PUMA Challenge had been privileged enough to be given entry in to, all expenses paid.

Travelling up to Newcastle was simple enough, as was meeting up with the other captains, and getting booked into our hotel etc… What was amusing was trying to get into the restaurant for dinner, and breakfast in the hotel the morning of the race; both of which had been pre-booked yet no bookings existed when it came to the time of going for either.

The down side to the entire weekend was not having any captain from Team Drive with us due to injuries. The previous captain; Nikki; being out with an issue to her foot, and then subsequently Ruth; the newly elected captain of the team; also having to bow out due to an ankle injury! Team Drive really do have a dark cloud over them this month and we all wish both ladies a speedy recovery.

Overall my race wasn’t a good one, and there were reasons for this; however, my run itself was awesome.

The mistakes were made from the night before where I treated myself a sweet treat at dinner; a nice coconut and passion fruit sorbet! It was so tasty but I generally try and stick to pre-race routines for a reason; A: no sweet treats, and B: no alcohol. I also generally don’t eat a breakfast before a race; or any run for that matter; unless the race start time is very late in the morning, in which case I will normally have a whole-wheat bagel with peanut butter and slices of banana. Breakfast at the hotel consisted of a bowl of granola; with strawberry yoghurt; for starters and then a small plate of warm breakfast; some scrambled egg (which I didn’t end up eating as it was powdered egg and had gone very bouncy), a fried egg; still slightly undercooked still; and a small spoonful of baked beans with a single slice of bacon. As said; much more food than I would ever normally eat before any run, or race! Why the hell did I eat it then? Well; it was there, I felt hungry, and I wasn’t sure what to expect after the run or how long it would be until we would be able to eat again properly. Little did I know that the VIP tent would be filled with an endless supply of extremely good food.

We finished up breakfast, packed our bags, checked out of the of our rooms and stored our baggage in a safe room provided by the hotel until we returned later in the day. It would have been a wise decision to ask the hotel to book us a taxi for later in the day then and there, but hindsight is a wonderful thing isn’t it?

So off we walked down to the starting area; it was time to get our head in the game.

Now; I know I am a super pain in the arse when it comes to planning things. I like to know what I’m doing, when I’m doing it etc… and whilst it was really good to be with Stuart and Lauren (the other two captains from team Energy and Ignite); and even nicer of Stuart to let me store a few items in his race kit bag; it was driving my mind crazy! If you tell me that something starts at a certain time, then I like to be there early. If you tell me that I need to be inside the starting blocks by a certain time because the gates will close at a certain time, I need to be in before that time. I do not like leaving things until the last minute. It makes my mind; and body; go crazy, and that does not allow for a nice relaxing build up to my race. My legs get twitchy, my skin gets itchy and my brain ticks over at a thousand clicks per minute with worry. I am literally like a ticking time bomb inside, so to be with two people who seemingly don’t appear to worry about a thing; or how long anything takes to do; was a test of every single fibre I had within me. The announcers were calling out to everybody stating that the baggage busses would be leaving at 10:05am, so imagine my twitchiness when we were still milling around at 10am, with a road heaving full with other runners all wanting to get their bags onto the same specified busses!

I don’t intentionally aim to be like that, it just seems to be the way I am, I can’t control it. I know that it is silly, I know that the worst will not happen etc… and I know that it is extremely frustrating for those around me having to deal with me being like that, but as I said, I can’t help it, it just seems to be the way I am. It’s why I am so meticulous when it comes to planning my runs, my training, my race day rituals etc… having that attention to detail helps to ease my nerves, but I know I’m a pain in the arse about it, it annoys the hell out of my wife, and I totally understand why.

In the end everything was indeed fine. We got our bags onto the busses, and we got ourselves down into the starting blocks where we then had to wait for about 40mins to start. I did feel sorry for Lauren though who was starting a lot further back in the field; on her own; whilst Stuart and I were up at the front right behind the elite runners. I must admit though, it is such a nice feeling being able to finally put myself into specific finishing times in order to start further up the field. When I saw the highlights on television later in the day I looked at the heaving masses of people on the road and just thought back to my London Marathon, and how congested it was. It wasn’t the most enjoyable thing I have ever experienced I must admit!

I honestly don’t know why they bother with warm up sessions before races, personally I don’t actually see any benefit to them as there isn’t enough room for you to perform any of the routines effectively, and they completely knacker you out before you’ve even started! The warm up prior to the start of this race was even longer I thought, as it felt like it went on for ages!

Eventually the time came, the gun went off, and we began our journey. Stuart was aiming at a sub 1hr25 race so I knew that he would be off like a rocket. I was aiming for a sub 90 race, and had planned the race strategy perfectly; split the event into 4 sectors of 5km sectors with each sector having its own specific pace avg.

 Sector 1 = 4:30pkm; sector 2 = 4:20; sector 3 = 4:15 and then sector 4 @ 4:10

This would put my 5k splits at: 22:30 – 21:40 – 21:15 – 20:50 = 86:15 (1:26:15) with 1.1km to go to finish. This meant that I would need to run the final 1.1km in 3:30, or at least squeeze that km and a bit in somewhere.

Looking back at it I am definitely going to have to work on this strategy a bit more as running a 3:30 km is not something I am keen on doing in a half marathon.

Anyway; the race had started and we were flying. My first 5k was completed in 20:54, so well ahead of schedule. This was filling me with confidence and I felt really good, if I could keep that pace up I would be well on my way to a sub 90 race and a smacked out PB, but then the sun started to have an effect and the route started to climb.

The biggest thing for me was the level of support, it was like a mini London Marathon, it was immense, so many people, but I was trying to focus on my race and was busy working things out in my head. How many specific pace km had I completed? What did I have in the bag? I had completed two 4min15 sets, a 4min and effectively two 4min10 sets. I was so focussed on trying to work out how many pace sets I had completed, what I had left and how many I had left to run etc… that I was forgetting what I was doing; I was running the Great North Run, and the event was passing me by.

My second 5km sector was completed in 22:19; which effectively meant that I was actually still on target to hit my sub 90, even though I had eased off the gas considerably through km 6-10 due to the uphill section in through km 6,7 & 8.

I was busy working out that if I could match my first 10km, then the second would still be a PB. If I could hit two 44min 10k runs I would be looking at 1hr28 which would leave me with just over 4mins in which to run the final 1.1km. It wouldn’t give me a sub 90, but it would still give me a PB given that my current is sitting at 1:32:37

So that was now my target. The race strategy was crumbling; as the heat started to really settle in; and the term “cut your losses” was ringing in my ears. “Just do what you need to do to get through; you can run a 44min 10k easily!” and that was what was so annoying; I can run a 10k in 44mins easily, so why was I finding this so hard?

My third 5k sector wasn’t actually bad, and when I look at my Strava race stats (https://www.strava.com/activities/391750518) I was still on target to achieve what I had set out to do by scoring a Half Marathon PB. Actually; looking at my stats again properly now for the first time I am really annoyed at myself because I can now see that it was indeed from the 14^th km that I crumbled. The 14^th km; 7km from the finish. 7km is nothing; to me! What the hell went wrong? I blame the inclines!

I actually ran the third 5k sector in 22:31, and was still running sub 4:30 averages per km which meant that I; technically; still had an entire sector of 4:30pkm averages to be able to run, but that 14^th km nailed me; and it was there that my head left the game. I ran a 4:46 in the 14^th, and once my head said no more, that was it; I was done mentally; so I switched off the race pacer in my head and just kicked back.

I took in the event, absorbed the joy of the Great North Run, looked at the other runners around me, started to high five the kids on the side of the road, desperately clambering for palm slaps from the endless stream of runners passing them by. I started appreciating the crowd cheering us all on, cheering on complete strangers as if we all knew one another. Whenever we ran through high crowd areas I raised my hands in the air and applauded the support, my way of showing appreciation for the northern hospitality. I enjoyed a joke or two with fellow runners who appeared to also now be taking it easier, engaged in a few friendly convos with one or two of the folks that ran alongside me. I simply enjoyed the run for a change, instead of raced it, something I haven’t done for a long time.

As I came into the final stretch I was actually overwhelmed with just how cool the finishing straight was and just how many people there were. In truth, I actually think the finale to the GNR is better than the that of the London Marathon. I liked how close the crowd were to the runners, how many people there were, the fact that there were bannisters for them to fill up on. It really did add to the spectacle of the event itself.

What I didn’t enjoy was the distance that you had to trek from the finish straight all the way down to the baggage busses and meeting points, though I can appreciate the organisation and need for it due to the number of people that there were finishing.

Thankfully Stuart had finished way before me, and had therefore been to collect his bag and made his way back up to the finish area where the VIP tent was situated. This was where we were all to meet after finishing so that we could continue our weekend in style and be treated to a much more relaxing post-race schedule than having to compete with the hordes of finishers behind us. I must admit, it did feel rather good walking back up the finishing convoy as each and every marshal tried to stop me; “sorry mate, keep going that way please!”. A brief explanation of where I was headed and that was that, no need for dealing with the crowd.

As I entered the VIP tent I suddenly realised who was walking beside me, none other than one of my absolute idols; Prof Brian Cox!  

The man is simply one of the nicest, and most gentlemanly people I have ever met. At no point did he make me feel like I was an annoyance or anything. We spoke about the run as we walked to our tables, at which point I congratulated him on his effort and left him for a few minutes to allow him time to get seated and a bit more relaxed. It wasn’t until a little later that I approached him again and asked for a photo, to which he was more than happy to accept.

We also then got to meet the legend herself; Paula Radcliffe; and managed to get a group photo with her. Stuart then admitted that he deleted the photo by mistake so I went to find her in order to get a personal pic with her; it was here that I embarrassed myself more than ever before in my life! As I approached her I called out to her; “excuse me…Jo (after Jo Pavey)!” Although she did turn around; with a smile on her face; I realised within a second what I had just said, and literally crumbled before her in a mass of stupidity and with hand over mouth admitted; “Oh my god I just called you Jo! I’m so sorry!” Paula merely chuckled at me and let me get a pic with her! Yet again; another immensely warm; and friendly; person!

The VIP tent closed up at 15:15 which meant that we needed to get to the train station in order to get back up to Newcastle to get our bags before heading off back down south.

I can safely say right now, that if there is ever a reason for anybody to work hard at their running in order to try and increase their pace, it is to avoid the masses of people that finish in the later times. I am not taking anything away from these people; in fact I think these people deserve more mention than the people who finish in my time zones. For me it is isn’t that hard to finish a half marathon distance in the 1hr35 region. I find that I can run rather comfortably and enjoyably too; but I have worked hard to get to that level; and it isn’t even as fast as a lot of other runners out there yet. For someone to be running a half marathon in 2.5-3 or even more hours must take such enormous determination, and then having to fight through huge crowds of people as everyone filters through to get their deserving medals and goody bags etc… If I had to deal with that kind of crowd every time I went into a race I don’t think I would be bothering as I would find that far too stressful a thing to be dealing with after having just spent that amount of time on my feet running myself silly.

I have an eternal amount of respect for those people who finish in the latter stages of these event; if you are one of them then you should feel so proud of yourself for a multitude of reasons. You push through barriers that 99.9% of the rest of the population; other runners included; will more than likely sit back and simply so “no chance!” to. You have the determination of every single champion athlete out there; if you didn’t you wouldn’t finish. Take a bow because you deserve every single round of applause that rang out across that finishing straight from every single crowd member that was still there cheering you on.

So off we went, off to the train station to start the merry little journey back to Newcastle from Sunny South Shields, but there were still a lot of people, and there were a lot of people walking in the same direction as us, and then a queue appeared to have formed; a queue that seemed to stretch for an endless distance.

The four of us walked on; Stuart, Lauren, myself and Virgil; our Running Bug organiser.

“What is that queue for do you think?” I asked as we all began to look at one another.

“I think that might be the queue for the train you know!” replied Stuart with a chuckle.

Someone within our group was in sheer disbelief at what trailed down the pavement along which we walked. Someone within our group stopped to ask members of said queue where that queue actually lead, and if it was indeed the queue for the train. Someone even approached a few of the policeman that stood alongside said queue asking about options that could be taken to avoid what would be a very hefty waiting time; to which the policeman simply laughed “what more do you expect on what is possibly the biggest event of the year for this area?”

The words; “no chance!” were repeated on more than one occasion, in a matter of a few minutes, amid a chorus of laughter from myself and other members of our group.

To be fair, it was; without a doubt; the longest queue for anything that I have ever seen in my life, and we all surmised the waiting time to be in excess of at least 4 hours. The decision was made to find a taxi cab instead, but even that was a tall ask as we waited for at least two hours for an available cab to come by. We had even toyed with the idea of jogging the 13.1miles back to Newcastle as that would be infinitely quicker than having to wait around for cabs; busses or trains.

I have tried to write about the cab journey home a few times now; I’ve actually written this entire blog post about three or four times to be honest; but I have had to edit and re-edit so many times because some things are only appreciated when you are actually there. Let’s just say that the cab ride back to Newcastle was exactly that; something that had to be appreciated then and there. There was nothing untoward about it, but there were certain events; and conversations; that happened which had us all chuckling amongst ourselves very heavily. It was most certainly the funniest cab ride I have ever experienced. Our cabbie; Jason; was also good enough to give us a free lift from the hotel to the train station as he had stopped his timer from before we even arrived at the hotel stating that it was all good and the fee was what it was at that point. Top bloke; yeah yeah!

Eventually we were all on our specific trains; homeward bound; Virgil and I found a perch in the drinks cabin where I treated him to a beer after everything that he; and The Running Bug; had treated us to, Stuart was further back down the carriages in his reserved seating, and Lauren was on a different train altogether beginning her venture all the way back to Swansea!

I eventually got home at about 22:05pm after having to catch the different trains and spending 45 minutes lapping the platform at Peterborough station about 30 times as I paced up and down platforms 2 and 3. I couldn’t sit down as I knew that If I did my body would probably take to the comfort and beg for sleep. I even appreciated a little jog home once I reached my final station; a nice little 1.8km trot from station to front door felt like a wise thing to do if I wanted to get home as soon as possible after having spent the better part of the last six and a half hours on my feet. 

All in all the Great North Run was a brilliant weekend for me personally. A great weekend spent with a few great people who I would happily call friends, and with whom I would very easily spend another weekend of running with.

A massive thanks needs to go to The Running Bug, and to PUMA for everything that they did for us; I think that I speak for each of us when I say that we really do/did appreciate everything.

PS: for the record; Stuart won the day with a finishing time of (I think) 1:24:51. I finished my run in 1:35:33 and Lauren finished in a very respectable 2:11:14 (I think).