A bad night's sleep. First there was the unfamiliarity of sleeping in a new place, with unfamiliar noises. A loud motorbike that seemed to be doing circuits of South Shields, the driver fantasising he was on the Silverstone circuit. It was also very hot, even with vents and windows open. There was no need for my 5:45 alarm call; I was already awake.
But it was a beautiful morning, mild and calm with no wind, as I made cups of tea and a large bowl of pasta for my traditional pre-run breakfast. There was even time to pop down to the beach, getting my dodgy knees into the cool water for 5 minutes. The beach was mostly empty, save for a metal detectorist and a large family group setting themselves up for the day.
With little else to do I got an early bus into Newcastle, I was going to be arriving at the start very early. But even early means crowds of runners making their way to the start, long queues for the toilets, and a general air of excitement.
One of the things I love about events like this are the people that run in fancy dress. As well as numerous batmen, spidermen, one Robin, one Batman carrying a banana, there were many other inventive costumes. As someone who runs purely for fun, I always feel slightly humbled by people such as Mr Ovary, below, who use this event to raise money in such imaginative ways. I even saw a person running as a Lancaster bomber, with a 10 foot wingspan - that is going to be so difficult to navigate through the crowds on the course!
With a good 90 minutes to kill before the 11am start time, there is little I can do except sit, relax and soak up the sunshine. As the sunshine starts to feel too hot, I move into the shade of a footbridge, already lined with supporters even though this is before the start of the course.
The crowd builds and, as ever, there are a significant number of people who fail to get to the start area before the gates to the pens are closed.
Eventually the starting gun fires. Nothing happens. I have placed myself in the second wave, aiming for a 2 hour pace, and it's over 10 minutes before any movement in the crowd reaches me, and almost half an hour before I reach the start line. My aim now is to keep to a nice gentle pace that I hope I can maintain to the finish.
The heat is immediate, but the crowds of spectators and supporters seems bigger than ever.
There are many bands that play at various points on the course. Just after mile 4 I heard Hare Krishna chanting up ahead. Looking at the group singing I spot my ex-neighour Penny, who gives me a massive wave. She never said that she was coming up for this. Later enquiries reveal that this wasn't Penny, just a very convincing body double
The miles slip slowly by. At halfway I am still feeling good. There are water points every two miles or so and a sip of water and pouring the rest over my head really feels good.
By mile nine I am starting to feel pain and exhaustion, it's a question now of not stopping and just willing myself on. I had been planning on having a beer towards the end. Another great idiosyncrasy of this event are the refreshments offered by ordinary people: sweets, ice pops, orange segments, and beer. In my days of being a serious runner I wouldn't have dreamed of stopping for a swift half, but it was in my mind today. The only thing that stopped me was that I knew how painful it would be to start running again
There is a steep downhill stretch just before mile 12, and this was agony. The final mile felt as if was going on for ever. The end always feels like this, it helps that I now recognise the landmarks and can see where the finish is located. The crowds in the final mile are immense. I know that Vera will be somewhere on the slopes by the Bamburg pub, ringing her bell, but I can't spot her in the bell ringing crowd.
I cross the finish line, time 1:55:44, and slowly walk to our pre-arranged rendezvous point of the grassy roundabout. Vera is already there. She thought she had missed me finishing so moved to the meeting point.
I collapse on the grass. I am soaked by sweat and the water I have been pouring over myself. The sunshine and heat has disappeared behind a sea fret. So we slowly walk to the Sanddancer pub where we are expecting to meet Andrew who is also running today. I wrap the space blanket from my finish bag around me which helps immensely.
Partway through the first pint Zara and children arrive.
Or so we thought. Rain water from two roofs overwhelms the gutters and pours onto us. We quickly grab beers and bags, leaving a rather bemused looking Andrew behind. We are now sheltering under a proper roof, but water continues to pour from the roof and now welling up through the drains. The whole area is soon under six inches of water, and rising.
Vera and I decide to head for our van, leaving directions to its location in case people are unable to leave in case the metro floods. The rain has eased. I am shivering. We pass lines of cars stuck trying to leave.
As soon as we are in the van, with some dry clothes and water for tea heating on the stove, everything feels much better.
I even have a short nap before we venture out to get food. We eventually end up in a very nice Italian restaurant on the high street. It's so warm and cosy. Wonderful.
Very good description of the event. Don't get the need to ride round on a noisy motor bike in the middle of the night when a bicycle would perfectly suffice for the purpose of moving through the warm night.
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