Great North Run 2013

This race was all that I was expecting, and not what I was expecting at all. It's not referred to as one of the world's most iconic half marathons for nothing, but this was my first time, and frankly I was blown away. Ummm, and given the weather, that's a somewhat apt way to put it! haha.

So. The Great North Run - 13.1 miles, from Newcastle city centre to South Shields on the coastline. In advance, I'd studied the route elevation profile, and I thought it basically didn't look TOO bad, but I'm an inexperienced runner, and clearly I'm not thinking with runner's legs yet. It turned out to be a very challenging course, with inclines that seemed to go on forever... I'd also been warned that due to the crowds (over 50,000 runners) planning for a PB was fairly pointless - it would be difficult to weave in and out of spaces, etc. I hadn't really been able to comprehend running an entire half marathon in a crowd, though, because in all the other races I do, the crowds normally thin out substantially at my end of the field! However, this day, it was a different story. But anyway, speaking of stories, let's just tell it as it happened....

I travelled to my parents' in Cumbria the day before the race, and discovered they'd made no travel plans yet despite my sending them buckets of information, because, well, they go across to Newcastle quite a bit, so what could need planning? I managed to convince them we needed a plan asap, because parking in Newcastle could be a nightmare, and them getting to South Shields would be even worse (because the main routes are all closed off, since us runners are taking up the space!) - so we sat down at the computer, and worked out a rough idea of where we'd park, and how they'd get to the finish. With retrospect, we all agreed we made the wrong choices - in my defence, I had mentally delegated travel plans to them, but that's not a great defence at all: when you're running in a race, you should always know how you're getting to the start, and how you're getting home afterwards!!! It reminds me of when I ran the Edinburgh half marathon, and as we got to Portobello (about 6 or 7 miles in) a girl up ahead of me said to her friend "so when do we turn round?" and her friend laughed and said "we run to Musselburgh!" and the first girl looked horrified and said "how'm I getting home from there?!" - anyway, I digress; we decided that when I finished the race, we'd ring each other (I was carrying my mobile) to meet up, and if worst came to worst, we'd meet in the 'family reunion area' under the big flag for S. Simple. We were all set.... so I went up to my room, and laid my kit all out to check everything over.

I was wearing a vest top which I'd bought some iron-on lettering for, capri pants, injinji socks, and at the last minute I decided to wear my older Nike Structures for their very last race, as I knew my feet were happy enough in them. I had my 'self belief' buff to wrap round my hair in a bun, as I knew I'd be getting seriously rained on, and a bun would be the best choice for my hair. I'd got an old cotton race tee to wear over the top in the pre-start bit, to discard later (someone collects all discarded clothing and donates to charity - next year, I might go down to 'spectate' and see if I can find myself a lovely new running jacket, hahahaha, as there was some expensive high quality clothing being thrown aside!) - and I packed a small bag with dry trainers, socks, jeans and a tshirt. Put safety pins on the corners of my race bib, and made sure I had my timing chip ready to attach to the shoe - all set. We had a pasta dinner, and watched a bit of TV, then I went to bed.

Woke up to rain, and gales. The forecasters had said as much, but they were also saying it was worse in the west of the country, so I was a wee bit hopeful. After breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast, we headed off early. The A69 was quiet, and we made easy progress - all the way over I marvelled at the distance that Pete and others had ran earlier this year when they ran The Wall ultra marathon. I was basically in a wee world of my own in the back seat of the car, sipping water and staring out the window. We got into the city, and got parked ridiculously easily. From there, it was a short walk to the start area, which was already packed full of people. We wandered around a little (I'm sooooo glad, looking at the crazy number of buses lined for at least a km along the road, not to have been doing a baggage drop) and then went down to the startline. We were there early, so we hovered to the side of the celebrity 'pen', spotting some of the celebs running for charities. The footballer Robbie Savage, radio DJs Jo Whiley and Dave Vitty, Spice Girl Mel C, a whole host of folk from Emmerdale, etc etc. - we tried to get in the background of TV interviews so we could be on TV, but to no avail - ach, it filled the time, but soon enough I figured I'd better start the HUGE journey down to my starting zone. My Garmin later measured that I started 0.7 miles away from the actual start line - isn't that hilarious?!! It took us a while to walk down, and I stood chatting to my parents for a while, before shooing them away to find somewhere near the start in plenty of time. Shortly after they left, the group warm-up nonsense started. I have a thing against these parts of the race. I KNEW that after the 'warm up' I'd be standing exactly where I was for perhaps a further half hour or more, so what was the point of warming up when I'd immediately get cold again? Mum had given me an old rain mac to wear instead of my old tshirt, so I was dry, but at this point the rain was holding off, and the wind felt promisingly gentle. Oh how we laugh.

Anyway, eventually we got started, and walked a reasonable shuffle towards the start line. As we got closer, I removed the rain mac and threw it to the side, and finished the last of the water I'd been holding, discarding that too. Then, just a few feet before the start line, I started a slow run, hit Start on my Garmin, and scanned the crowd for my parents, for a wave.

And then we were gone - running down a main road, in a crowd perhaps 7 or 8 people wide. The left side, which I'd stood at, went under an overpass, and the right side went over the top. In the sheltered covered area we were running, someone shouted out Oggy Oggy Oggy, and as a crowd, we yelled back Oi Oi Oi! as it reverberated around us I smiled to myself; I was running in the Great North Run, a race I've watched on TV every year for as many years as I can remember. What a moment! I grinned, then we came out from under the overpass to discover it was raining pretty heavily now. I focussed on the road ahead, and plodded onwards.

I had planned to try the 6/1 run/walk pattern, but I was swept along with the crowd and the atmosphere, as crowds of spectators lined the streets and bridges overhead, shouting and cheering us. I decided to run the whole of the first mile, then settle into a run/walk pattern after that.... I did the first mile quickly (for me), in 10:26, and panicked a wee bit. I walked for a minute in the second mile, but still recorded an 11:09 mile. But that was the first downhill section finished with, and we were on a slow climb now for a few miles. And boy, it was TOUGH. I ran for 6 minutes, and just as I was about to stop to walk, I felt a number of people directly behind me, and no clear route for me to run to the very left hand side without tripping, so I felt it would be a problem walking; I carried on running, but now I was getting a bit anxious, and as soon as a gap appeared, I gratefully took it, and slowed to a brisk walk. The third mile had a couple of walks in, and was 11:32. I knew that miles 4 and especially 5 would be tough, so I worked out that from an average pace of 12:30 (to get me a PB), I'd built up a 3½ minute cushion, though it was at this point that I realised my miles were recording before the official miles, and the fact that I was not 'on the racing line' (the shortest track) of the road was already meaning I was running further. I decided to start counting the 12½ minutes against each official mile marker. Even though the bad rain had died off, and the wind was largely pushing as us from behind, I started to slow as the long inclines went on, and did a 12:09 followed by 13:03 - every single mile I was doing was getting slower and slower, and my brain kind of went a bit panicky. I was well off plan by now, I wasn't running for any more than 2 minutes or so, but I was still keeping walk breaks to 60 seconds or less.

I don't actually remember much of the middle section, except I passed the 'official' halfway mark at around 1:18 - and my brain immediately doubled it. My aim for the race was to beat my PB, so to be faster than 2:46 - but this suggested that if I used the hills right in the second half, I could do the race quicker than 2:40 - in fact, if I managed my first ever 'negative splits' race, I could even get close to 2:30! I found this difficult to comprehend, but I noted with some irony that I was walking as I worked these calculations. I picked up my feet, and determined to run for 6 minutes, but within 1 or 2 minutes I was speed-walking again. Like I say, these miles in the middle passed by fairly unmemorably. There was crowd support the whole time, and if I felt I needed a wee boost or a kick, I would edge myself to the side of the road, and hope for a spectator to spot my name on my chest. It invariably worked: "well done Sarah!" "c'mon Sarah, you're doing great!" "go on Sarah, you can do it!" "Yay Sonia!" - wait, what? a dyslexic spectator, or maybe I was running at such a speed that the letters were blurred, hahahaha.

Garmin shows that I had a nice-paced 11:25 for the 6th mile, then a 12:14 and a 12:06. In 'real' terms, I was still comfortably cushioned to get a 2:45 PB. But miles 9 and 10 were relentlessly uphill, on a low, slow incline. It felt like it went on forever, and it was probably one of my lowest points. I started looking around me more, trying to focus on someone to 'attach an invisible bungee rope to', when I suddenly spotted a runner I'd just passed lighting up a cigarette in a walk break. I gaped, but couldn't think of what to say, so just turned back round and got on with my own thing. I slowly overtook a few girls in full makeup, chatting on their mobile phones - "Yeah, I've just gone past 10 miles. So I'll be finished in twenty minutes or so." - ehhhh, how do you work that one out, love??! I think I must have gone through the official 10 mile marker in just a couple of minutes over 2 hours (my Garmin shows I ran 10 miles in exactly 2 hours, woo!) - I worked out that to get a PB, I had to run 5km in under 42 minutes. Whoa.... I do that every week!! Admittedly, not with tired legs and on the stupid hills... the rain had started again briefly, but the gusting wind was still behind us, but I was feeling a confusing mix of demoralised and confident. Then mile 11 - and suddenly the roar overhead of the Red Arrows aerial display team. I've never experienced a moment like it - they flew past a few times, performing different displays, some with their instantly recognisable red, white and blue trails, some where they trailed smoke and flew to draw a heart shape in the sky. I ran and walked with my face to the sky - it was pretty incredible.

But by now, my legs were finding in tough, and each one of my last 3 miles was slower than 13 minute miles. Not great. I knew I could have done better, I could have pushed, and as the fnishing straight came into view, I willed my legs to run a third of a mile or so without walking. I should be able to run for 4 minutes, but I hadn't done that since mile 6...! However, I got moving, and started to scan the crowds for my parents, to wave at them. I couldn't spot them, but as the finish got closer, so the crowds got deeper. And louder. And my name was getting shouted out, and I ran with my eye on the finish line. I crossed it, hammered the stop button on my Garmin, and slowed immediately to a slow walk. I couldn't help but smile - my Garmin showed 13.4 miles in 2:44:19 - my official chip time was 2:44:20. A PB by over 2 full minutes. Part of me felt like I could have, and should have, done more, but another part pointed out I'd ran 13.4 miles, not 13.1, and also, the weather had been cold, wet and windy, and the course unrelenting. A personal best, on my third Half Marathon - I'll take it. :)

I staggered through the finishing area, collecting my medal, water, and goody bag. I selected a Small tshirt, and it only bloody well fit!! :) Granted, it's cotton (boooo), but still. Size small. Me. :) I got out of the finish area and looked around for Mum and Dad, but I couldn't see them, so I slowly walked across to the Reunion Area, and switched my phone on. Hmmmm, no signal. Cutting a very (very) long story short here, because I don't want my last memory of the day to be this bit, I stood in that field for 90 minutes, as two particularly horrible downpours and freezing wind whipped around. I wrapped the foil blanket they'd given us around me, and staggered off a couple of times to te information kiosk to leave a message for my parents. They, in the meantime, had had such a bloody nightmare trying to park the car anywhere within half a mile of the finish line, that they'd missed my finishing, and then assuming I was still running, they stood and cheered folk on for 90 more minutes, wondering what had happened to me. They figured out something was wrong when a couple of runners in fancy dress as the Tyne Bridge stumbled past.... Ummm, oh dear! We finally met up, and I immediately, gratefully pulled on my hoody for warmth. We got back to the car easily enough after that, and I changed my socks and shoes (which were drenched through) and ate a chicken sandwich Mam had packed in the car. We drove home, I ate a big, hot dinner, slid into a big, hot bath, and went to bed early, absolutely exhausted.

Lots to be proud of, lots to learn from. I feel confident I can do better in my next half marathon, but a sub-2:30 still feels so far away. I'm feeling really kinda determined to get there, though. I can't imagine any half marathon will ever have the atmopshere and feel of the GNR, it was a really special day. ....and have I mentioned, that means I've done THREE half marathons now???? (I don't like to talk about it, you know...... *coughs*)