“I’m fine, okay? I mean, as fine as someone who’s hurtling toward a gruesome death can be”

Max Mayfield, Stranger Things

That’s right, I’m playing catch up. Again. Its been MANIC. It’s fair to say I’ve probably never been busier. Personally, professionally, and runningally. Yes, I’m aware I posted the Kielder review in July, even though it took place last October. Only God can judge me you bunch of bastards. The plan is that the 2024 Christmas Special will cover most of this year’s running journey. In the true spirit of the season, this update will be ‘bumper’ and include some special guest stars. Only one part of that statement is true.

In the meantime, whilst you’re licking your lips at that prospect, let’s have a good old fashioned Race Review. It’s Great North Run 2024 time. Cue Local Hero.

I have reviewed the GNR quite a few times now and run it even more than that. 13 times now to be precise. The only one I’ve missed since 2011 is the one everyone missed, the Plague hit 2020 one. I ran that one Virtually on the day though, so let’s claim 14 if I really want to be one of those wankers.

I didn’t review it last year. The reason for that was that I paced someone who was running it for the first time. It was their story to tell, I was just their wing man, so I decided to take a fallow year. However, the one thing I will say about the 2023 GNR is this; for the first time in ages, I actually really enjoyed it.

Yes, I know, I was pacing someone who was running a 2:20 half. That’s 25 minutes slower than my usual target. However, I genuinely wasn’t arsed about my time. The goal was to help them hit 2:20 and finish not only their first GNR, but also their first Half. In the end, we got over in 2:21. Considering the heat, that was a cracking effort.

The big take away though was the aforementioned enjoyment. I’d started to lose a bit of my love for it in past years. It was also starting to become a bit of an effort. I would train for it but then struggle on the day, get a bit bored of it as an event and a course. Last year though, I think I got the whole essence of it again. It’s a Fun Run. Have fun. And I did.

Now that’s all well and good when you’re running with someone. I had taken all the pressure off myself to hit my Par time or better, so of course I was having fun. Going back to running it on my own was going to be different gravy. Therefore, my plan for the GNR 2024 was simple. Run it comfortably and enjoy it. Easy right? Let’s find out.

Training for this years GNR has gone well. Very well. As you’ll find out in the Christmas Special, 2024 so far has been a Lazarus running year. I’ve PBd the shit out of everything. My fitness has increased, I’m carrying less timber, I’m running quicker. So, the signs are good. A month before the GNR I do my last ‘big’ training run and decide to do the full 13.1. I feel great and smash out a 1:50:24 PB. For context, that’s 5 or 6 minutes faster than my Half times the year before. I wasn’t lying when I said this had been a good year.

In the interests of the ‘fun’ and ‘enjoy’ bit I was going on about, I decide that I won’t be trying to hit that 1:50 pace again. Instead, my plan is to go out and run at a nice comfortable 1:55 pace. Nowt daft. Train hard, run easy.

So, to the day. You may remember my rant about the 2022 start, which they colossally fucked up. That year, they decided it was a really good idea to put everyone on the Town Moor, then get them to squeeze through tiny gates onto the Start. It was a complete shit show, caused bottle necks galore, lots of runners couldn’t get into their allotted pens.

They put the adults back in charge last year and it returned to its usual issue free start. But not content with that, they decided to let the kid who eats crayons and start fires to have another go at organising this years. 

‘Hey, Charlie, remember that thing that didn’t work in 2022? Let’s do it again. It’ll work this time. Honest. Pass me another crayon. And a lighter.’

Luckily, I did bother reading this year’s Guide and pre-empted this clusterfuck. So, I decided to go early. Already there were queues to get onto the Town Moor. This happens when you’re trying to squeeze several thousand people through one tiny kicking gate, just like you did in 2022 you clowns. Now, because I got there early, I was able to easily go to the toilet and get stuff on the Baggage buses, granted. However, reading and hearing stories from those that got there just a bit later, both things got far too busy and very painful.

I’m early, I’ve peeded about 17 times, and my stuff is on the bus. So I think, sod it, let’s just get into my Pen. Again, as I’m early, I walk straight through the Orange Wave gate they have set up. In the days after the event, I see some pictures taken of how crowded and dangerous this gate got, with runners trying to squeeze through it. 

It didn’t work in 2022, it hasn’t worked in 2024, don’t do it in 2025. Stay away from Crayons.

Now we’re past the bad bits, let’s get to the good stuff! I’m in Orange Wave D. Quite near the front. I’m almost Elite. Not quite. My mate Phil is in Wave B and I spot him through the fencing, so we have a good catch up which kills a bit of time. I then get into my Pen and I’m feeling pretty good. It’s misty. Rain is forecast. You fucking beauty!

Alright, hang on, I know I said that was the end of the bad stuff, but there is one more thing at the start I wasn’t a fan of. I found the atmosphere as flat as a fart. Over the past couple of years they’ve brought onboard Heart FM to do the pre-run entertainment. I’ve nothing against Heart FM, it’s not my bag, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t stick on Heart 90s every so often and sing along to some SVW. But by Christ they are crap at this.

It used to be that once the Starter Gun went, they would blast up-tempo music to keep everyone motivated, while we wait the 30 minutes (or much longer) before getting to the start line. This year, silence. Total silence, other than some tedious Heart FM DJ air filling chats. I counted one of them say ‘look out there at all those smiling faces’ about 30 times. God help those at the back in the Pink Wave.

Anyway, I only have to endure 29 minutes of Smashy and Nicey talking shite and I’m over the line and off. Special mention to my long term Nemesis and local DJ Alan Robson at this point. His shouting of random diseases was missing this year in the Pen. I’ve slagged him off no end for this in the past, but I kind of missed him. I realise just past the line though that he is still doing it, just we now can’t hear him till we get past the Heart FM shit patter lads. He’s a welcome sight for once, apart from the Man Bun. You’re 70 Alan. It’s not a good look mate.

Ah yes, running. Already I feel like this is going to be a good run. I feel loose, have energy, and I’ve already settled into my target pace (8:40ish). That rain that was forecast has started. It’s good rain as well. Not torrential, not cold, no wind. The running Gods are finally looking down favourably on me. 

As always, I stay right, so I go over the Central Motorway rather than under it. I’ve written about this in the past, but it’s the best starting side. Not just because it’s the one the Elite prefer either. I’m not trying to be a fat Kipchoge cosplay, there is a sensible reason for it. If you choose left and go under, the GPS on your device goes completely doolaly tap. You have no idea what your pace is. You don’t know whether you’re pushing yourself or walking. This goes on for nearly 2 miles. Up and down like the Mackems. The danger of going out too fast is very real. Stay right, go over kids, ok?

I’m on the Tyne Bridge now and it feels far less congested than usual. I think this is down to having a good starting Pen and getting in fairly near the front of it. It does make all the difference at the GNR. The further back you are, the more crowded the field is. I mean, it’s already crowded at this point, but nowhere near as bad as it will get further back.

So we’re past the fun bit and onto the beige bit. From here to the Coast, it’s dual carriagewaytasticwith lots of small climbs. Flat course my arse. However, it feels different this year. Easier? That’s a bit of a wanky word. More comfortable I would say. It doesn’t seem as hard work as usual. It’s mile 5 and…well…I think I might be enjoying the GNR again.

Despite the rain, the crowds as always are fantastic. They cheer you on, they spur you on, rain or shine, they’re out and they support everyone. I am biased, I was born and raised round here, but we’re great at this. Criticise the GNR all you want. It’s too expensive, yep. Too many people run it, yep. It’s too corporate, yep. They are always trying to find ways to fleece more money out of you by selling tat, yep, yep, yep.

But I will die on a hill defending it as the People’s race. Not just for the crowds, but also for those who take part. It’s the start of so many running journeys (mine included) and its importance to the North East can’t be underestimated. Is it a huge money-making machine? Absofuckinglutely. But I couldn’t give a shite. 

Now I’ve got that off my chest, back to the run. My least favourite part of the course is coming up. Mile 9. Anyone who has ever run the GNR before will know this part of the course. It’s the start of the John Reid road. I’ve never really found out who John Reid is. Possibly a masochist if his road is anything to go by. 

This is the part of the course where usually I tend to die a little. Physically and mentally. It will be the tester to see if I really am running as well as I think I am. It will be the part of the course that will let me know if I’m going to continue enjoying this till the end.

You take a right turn at the roundabout and suddenly you’re hitting the climb of John Reid road. It’s not a steep climb. It’s just long and constant. It’s a busy part of the course as well. Littered with water stations and toilets, you have to be careful dodging discarded bottles, as well as runners cutting across the course to grab a drink/take a shit. Basically, the Bigg Market on a Saturday night.

I decide to attack it. I know, what an idiot. However, that’s a good sign. I’m not as knackered as I usually am at this point. I start at the bottom. Feel good. Halfway up. I’m still feeling good. Get to the top. By cracky, I’m alive. Not just alive, like not really that tired. I’m going to enjoy the last 4 miles. I’m going to enjoy the GNR.

Even the climb up Prince Edward road before we drop onto the Coast, usually a real slog after the John Reid road has half killed me, is far more bearable than any previous year. I am feeling it a bit, I’m not going to lie. But it’s a good tired, not a fucked tired.

I drop on to the Sea front for the last mile and again, this is the best I’ve ever felt on this last stretch. I even up the pace a bit as I feel like I’ve got it in me. I get over the line in 1:53:47. The quickest I’ve ever run the GNR. I hit the real Half Marathon time in 1:52 ish. So all in all, a good day. I went out with a target pace of 8:40, I managed to keep it comfortable at 8:36.

Now to the most important bit. Eating my weight in shite at the Charity Tent. As always, they put on a cracking spread, and I don’t need a second invite to eat it. Race run. Money raised. Face filled. Job done.

I’m on the Ferry back before you know it and in the house before tea. It really couldn’t have worked out better or gone more to plan. Even my race pictures are pretty good this year. I especially like this one of me BEASTING it over the line at the end. 

The only negative? It’s bound to be shitter next year.