Great North Fun
On Sunday, I took part in the 40th Great North Run. I joined 57,000 runners, including the best in the world. The run was broadcast live in 127 countries and was the first major event of its kind anywhere since the pandemic began. It was a brilliant experience and the most fun I've ever had running a half marathon.
I'm really glad about that, because I turned down a holiday in Wales with friends to run in this event. I'm not going to speculate which I'd have enjoyed more, because that's a really counterproductive way of thinking. But it was a major running achievement which will stay with me. Plus I have (at the time of writing this) raised £1,286 for the National Autistic Society, which counts for a lot.
The event took up pretty much my whole weekend. After parkrun (of course!), I only had a little while to pack before catching the train up to Newcastle. I checked into my hotel, took a walk out to the Town Moor (to be aware of my route to the start line the next morning) and along the Tyne (to admire the bridges), and then there was only time for dinner, watching Emma Raducanu win the US Open (along with half the people in the hotel, it seemed, and trying to get a bit of sleep before the big day.
I didn't sleep much. But I had a good hotel breakfast and made my way to the start in plenty of time. The weather was pretty much perfect - cool and cloudy. I was glad the heatwave had passed! My worries about finding my way past the road closures were unnecessary - I just followed the growing crowd! Social distancing (of sorts) meant there was a rolling start. The race officials called all the orange waves forward together (I was meant to be in orange wave 6 of 8), which meant I ended up starting 20 minutes earlier than I expected to.
The start line itself was a strange non-event. No waiting, no countdown, no crowds, no announcement or airhorns. There was plenty of all that on the way across to the start line, but the start itself saw us all weaving through metal barriers, which seemed like they were put there to trip us up, but were actually a clever way of spacing everyone out. I emerged from that obstacle course and, oh look, I guess we're starting running now!
Once around the first bend, the crowds started lining the roads to cheer everyone on. They didn't stop all the way round. The atmosphere you get from road races like this is something special, and the buzz you get from doing it with thousands of other runners just adds to that feeling. I hadn't realised how much I'd missed it until just then. I've cried at the end of a long run before now, but this was the first time I'd felt myself begin to get teary right at the start. I think I went around the entire route with a big grin on my face.
On runs which aren't the world's biggest half marathon, you get crowds like that at the start and finish, with long stretches in the middle where there aren't many spectators and the runners themselves thin out a little. Not here. The biggest gap in the crowd was maybe 100m or so. There were ordinary people lining the roads, charity stalls (I made sure to look out for and wave to the NAS one at miles 3 and 9), live music and more. The only thing I missed out on was seeing the Red Arrows flying overhead (Going by the TV coverage, I think they must've flown over about when I was at the furthest point of the route.) While it was nowhere near as heaving as the aerial shots I've seen of hordes of runners from previous years (we were generally all running at a socially distanced 2m from each other throughout), there were always lots of other runners surrounding me as well.
One advantage of the altered route this year was getting to see the elite runners on their return leg, as my wave was heading outwards. During my first couple of miles, I saw the elite women coming up to the finish, then shortly after the elite men, and then the other side of the carriageway began to fill up with the mass of other runners like me.
As well as the crowds, runners themselves were cheering each other on, whether it was those passing in the other direction, those in crazy-but-amazing costumes (I spotted Marge Simpson, the Queen of Hearts, Three Little Pigs - who'd been interviewed on the news that morning, Mario & Luigi, a lion, and many more), those running for the same charity, or those who just looked like they needed the encouragement. I joined in of course. We also got to high-five the crowds, do the iconic run across the Tyne Bridge not once but twice, waive at the big screen at the halfway turnaround, and take full advantage of the acoustics as we ran under the motorway overpass ("Oggy! Oggy! Oggy!" "Oi! Oi! Oi!").
I'd resolved not to set myself a target time, and to just enjoy the race at whatever pace felt good. And I pretty much did. I didn't look at my watch at all for the first couple of km. When I did, I found I was averaging about 4:45 per km, which surprised me. I'd typically been doing about 5:10 per km during training runs, but the energy you get from the atmosphere at an event always make you go a bit faster, as does the push you get from having other runners around you. I was going fast - too fast for a very long run, but manageable over a half marathon. I kept an eye on my pace after that, preparing to back off a little if I found myself pushing too hard.
Lots of people (including elite runners) said what a hilly course it was. Pah! These people have clearly never been running in Sheffield! What it was, was undulating pretty much throughout. This brought its own challenges. Your mind is working hard, as well as your body, in an event like this. While I was enjoying the crowd, I was also constantly having to pick my path around other runners; be aware of my pace, energy and any aches or niggles; as well as keep track of taking in sensible amounts of water and sugar. In that state of mind, it was easy not to notice when a downhill slope gently turned into an uphill slope. (Yes, it was so not hilly, I almost didn't notice some of the hills, ha!) When you find yourself still doing a downhill pace on an uphill, you need to ease off!
That's not to say it wasn't hard work. It was. I was putting a lot of effort in, and I've got the stats to prove it! My point is I got caught up in the moment and was enjoying it all the way round (even when it started raining towards the end). Having been training for a full marathon gave me a fitness level and a confidence to stretch myself over a half. It was only towards the finish, once the inclines got steeper and the route wound its way uphill back into the city centre and towards the Town Moor, that I found myself struggling and wanting to slow down.
By this point, though, I'd realised I was on target for achieving a long-term running goal - a sub-100-minute half marathon. So I pushed on. Those last couple of miles were incredibly hard work. My heart rate stats show I was averaging 184 beats per minute at that stage (which is pretty much maximum effort and not sustainable), versus a more sensible 164 beats per minute for the rest of the route, up until that point. I cheered along with everyone around me as I came up to the finish line, crossing it with over 80 seconds to spare! I leapt over the line and punched the air in triumph!
(Then immediately had to dart sharply to the right to avoid the runners in front, who'd come to a dead stop, while I still had forward momentum... Never mind, it didn't ruin the moment too much!)
My time was 1:38:36, over 3 minutes faster than my previous PB. On reflection, I shouldn't have been that surprised. I'd been training for a marathon, had the boost from a mass event and it was the least hilly such mass event I'd done. But I'm still very, very pleased with that result.
It all seemed to be over way too soon (Maybe I should've run slower!). I collected my goody bag, posed for my finishing photo, and made my way over to the NAS charity tent, where snacks and drinks awaited. I spent a while nattering there with the volunteers and other runners (It felt very strange that some had finished, like me, while others were still waiting to be called to the start line). Then I watched a bit of the race from the sidelines on my way back to my hotel, had a quick shower and change, then caught the train back to Sheffield.
One down... two to go. I don't expect to set the same kind of pace for the remaining runs. The Sheffield Half Marathon (as mentioned) is hillier, and I'll be wanting to make sure I don't knacker myself a week before the London Marathon. For that one, I don't feel quite as well prepared for the distance as I did for the Yorkshire Marathon in 2019. My aims are simple - get to the end; don't die!
My legs were sore on Monday, but by Tuesday I was back out there running 6k in preparation for the next event. Wish me luck, and keep the sponsor money coming! :o)
I'm really glad about that, because I turned down a holiday in Wales with friends to run in this event. I'm not going to speculate which I'd have enjoyed more, because that's a really counterproductive way of thinking. But it was a major running achievement which will stay with me. Plus I have (at the time of writing this) raised £1,286 for the National Autistic Society, which counts for a lot.
The event took up pretty much my whole weekend. After parkrun (of course!), I only had a little while to pack before catching the train up to Newcastle. I checked into my hotel, took a walk out to the Town Moor (to be aware of my route to the start line the next morning) and along the Tyne (to admire the bridges), and then there was only time for dinner, watching Emma Raducanu win the US Open (along with half the people in the hotel, it seemed, and trying to get a bit of sleep before the big day.
I didn't sleep much. But I had a good hotel breakfast and made my way to the start in plenty of time. The weather was pretty much perfect - cool and cloudy. I was glad the heatwave had passed! My worries about finding my way past the road closures were unnecessary - I just followed the growing crowd! Social distancing (of sorts) meant there was a rolling start. The race officials called all the orange waves forward together (I was meant to be in orange wave 6 of 8), which meant I ended up starting 20 minutes earlier than I expected to.
The start line itself was a strange non-event. No waiting, no countdown, no crowds, no announcement or airhorns. There was plenty of all that on the way across to the start line, but the start itself saw us all weaving through metal barriers, which seemed like they were put there to trip us up, but were actually a clever way of spacing everyone out. I emerged from that obstacle course and, oh look, I guess we're starting running now!
Once around the first bend, the crowds started lining the roads to cheer everyone on. They didn't stop all the way round. The atmosphere you get from road races like this is something special, and the buzz you get from doing it with thousands of other runners just adds to that feeling. I hadn't realised how much I'd missed it until just then. I've cried at the end of a long run before now, but this was the first time I'd felt myself begin to get teary right at the start. I think I went around the entire route with a big grin on my face.
On runs which aren't the world's biggest half marathon, you get crowds like that at the start and finish, with long stretches in the middle where there aren't many spectators and the runners themselves thin out a little. Not here. The biggest gap in the crowd was maybe 100m or so. There were ordinary people lining the roads, charity stalls (I made sure to look out for and wave to the NAS one at miles 3 and 9), live music and more. The only thing I missed out on was seeing the Red Arrows flying overhead (Going by the TV coverage, I think they must've flown over about when I was at the furthest point of the route.) While it was nowhere near as heaving as the aerial shots I've seen of hordes of runners from previous years (we were generally all running at a socially distanced 2m from each other throughout), there were always lots of other runners surrounding me as well.
One advantage of the altered route this year was getting to see the elite runners on their return leg, as my wave was heading outwards. During my first couple of miles, I saw the elite women coming up to the finish, then shortly after the elite men, and then the other side of the carriageway began to fill up with the mass of other runners like me.
As well as the crowds, runners themselves were cheering each other on, whether it was those passing in the other direction, those in crazy-but-amazing costumes (I spotted Marge Simpson, the Queen of Hearts, Three Little Pigs - who'd been interviewed on the news that morning, Mario & Luigi, a lion, and many more), those running for the same charity, or those who just looked like they needed the encouragement. I joined in of course. We also got to high-five the crowds, do the iconic run across the Tyne Bridge not once but twice, waive at the big screen at the halfway turnaround, and take full advantage of the acoustics as we ran under the motorway overpass ("Oggy! Oggy! Oggy!" "Oi! Oi! Oi!").
I'd resolved not to set myself a target time, and to just enjoy the race at whatever pace felt good. And I pretty much did. I didn't look at my watch at all for the first couple of km. When I did, I found I was averaging about 4:45 per km, which surprised me. I'd typically been doing about 5:10 per km during training runs, but the energy you get from the atmosphere at an event always make you go a bit faster, as does the push you get from having other runners around you. I was going fast - too fast for a very long run, but manageable over a half marathon. I kept an eye on my pace after that, preparing to back off a little if I found myself pushing too hard.
Lots of people (including elite runners) said what a hilly course it was. Pah! These people have clearly never been running in Sheffield! What it was, was undulating pretty much throughout. This brought its own challenges. Your mind is working hard, as well as your body, in an event like this. While I was enjoying the crowd, I was also constantly having to pick my path around other runners; be aware of my pace, energy and any aches or niggles; as well as keep track of taking in sensible amounts of water and sugar. In that state of mind, it was easy not to notice when a downhill slope gently turned into an uphill slope. (Yes, it was so not hilly, I almost didn't notice some of the hills, ha!) When you find yourself still doing a downhill pace on an uphill, you need to ease off!
That's not to say it wasn't hard work. It was. I was putting a lot of effort in, and I've got the stats to prove it! My point is I got caught up in the moment and was enjoying it all the way round (even when it started raining towards the end). Having been training for a full marathon gave me a fitness level and a confidence to stretch myself over a half. It was only towards the finish, once the inclines got steeper and the route wound its way uphill back into the city centre and towards the Town Moor, that I found myself struggling and wanting to slow down.
By this point, though, I'd realised I was on target for achieving a long-term running goal - a sub-100-minute half marathon. So I pushed on. Those last couple of miles were incredibly hard work. My heart rate stats show I was averaging 184 beats per minute at that stage (which is pretty much maximum effort and not sustainable), versus a more sensible 164 beats per minute for the rest of the route, up until that point. I cheered along with everyone around me as I came up to the finish line, crossing it with over 80 seconds to spare! I leapt over the line and punched the air in triumph!
(Then immediately had to dart sharply to the right to avoid the runners in front, who'd come to a dead stop, while I still had forward momentum... Never mind, it didn't ruin the moment too much!)
My time was 1:38:36, over 3 minutes faster than my previous PB. On reflection, I shouldn't have been that surprised. I'd been training for a marathon, had the boost from a mass event and it was the least hilly such mass event I'd done. But I'm still very, very pleased with that result.
It all seemed to be over way too soon (Maybe I should've run slower!). I collected my goody bag, posed for my finishing photo, and made my way over to the NAS charity tent, where snacks and drinks awaited. I spent a while nattering there with the volunteers and other runners (It felt very strange that some had finished, like me, while others were still waiting to be called to the start line). Then I watched a bit of the race from the sidelines on my way back to my hotel, had a quick shower and change, then caught the train back to Sheffield.
One down... two to go. I don't expect to set the same kind of pace for the remaining runs. The Sheffield Half Marathon (as mentioned) is hillier, and I'll be wanting to make sure I don't knacker myself a week before the London Marathon. For that one, I don't feel quite as well prepared for the distance as I did for the Yorkshire Marathon in 2019. My aims are simple - get to the end; don't die!
My legs were sore on Monday, but by Tuesday I was back out there running 6k in preparation for the next event. Wish me luck, and keep the sponsor money coming! :o)
