“I get it, you’ve caught the scent of a lesser stag in your nostrils”

White Goodman, Dodgeball

One of the biggest pieces of advice I was given after completing my Marathon, other than walk up stairs backwards (this works by the way) was to sign up to as many races as possible.

The idea being twofold. Firstly, it’s a great way to maintain your running mojo, keep away the post marathon blues, and give yourself new goals to hit.

The second reason was that Marathon training should give you levels of fitness you’ve never experienced before. Make use of those newly acquired super powers by smashing out fast times in races.

I have to say, both of those schools of thought have been spot on. I haven’t hit what many call the dreaded Marathon Blues. I’ve still got my mojo. The two races I have completed since, both around 10k, have been fast and enjoyable.

So with that in mind, here we are once again, a third 10k race, 7 weeks post Marathon. It’s the Tynedale Pie and Peas 10k. Not a race I had planned on doing if I’m honest, but they had me at ‘Pie.’

Well, kind of. My mate has started running again, felt like he’d got a 10k in him, and I noticed this one was close to where he lives. So I thought, why doesn’t he do it, and why don’t I do it?

It’s not one I’ve done before, but I do know it’s a beautiful part of the world – a mixture of Countryside and Riverside. But let’s be honest, its real selling point is the plate of pie and peas you get when you finish. Winner.

It is one of those pesky mid week evening races however. A Wednesday evening, with a 7:30pm start. This is also a rare one that I’m going to need to drive to. All for Pie.

Is it time to mention the weather? Course it is. In summary, it’s pretty fucking weird. When I leave the house, it’s windy and pissing down with rain. More like January than July. Halfway on the drive there, the clouds clear, and its glorious blue skies. Make your mind up.

After a slight detour to pick up my mate on the way, I find somewhere to park, and we’re off to the Pub. Sadly, not to get smashed and call the whole thing off, but to pick our numbers up.

The pub is busy and full of club runners huddled together. I’m in my Club Vest, but I’m aware there are only about half a dozen of us signed up for this one, and even then, there is only really one guy that I know to talk to. The others are all those Mythical Beasts in the fast groups. I’m with my mate anyway, so it’s a good excuse not to join in with the club tribalism.

Number easily picked up, we’re off to the start. Which is a mile and a half from the pub. Warm up run anyone? Nah thanks. We take a nice leisurely stroll there instead. The weather has now settled on blue sky and calm. It’s a typical warm English Summer evening. The walk to the start is also up a scenic and quiet country road. So far, so good.

The start is at Ovington, a normally quiet little village, but now with 300 runners jamming the only road that runs through it. None of the locals appear to be out, other than four women standing by the side of the road quaffing wine. Fair play ladies, fair play.

The Race Director addresses us all with instructions, which everyone goes quiet to listen to. Well, apart from the two blokes behind me, who chat loudly to each other during the whole thing. I’m sure it wasn’t anything important.

Anyway, it’s 7:30pm, and we’re off. I wish my mate good luck and shoot away. That sounds like a dick move, but this is his first 10k in a while, so his plan is to run the whole thing in under an hour. Me, I’m going to race the fucker. Because, why not.

The first mile is on the road we walked up and is all downhill. Lovely. The pace is quick and I pass quite a few runners. It’s a 7:27 mile, and before we know it, we’re in the neighbouring village of Ovingham. I know, they didn’t have much imagination when they named shit round here.

Here, we’re climbing for the first time, but it’s short and over quickly. We’ve now got a very scenic mile and a half of riverside running until we hit the next village of Wylam.

The field has opened up, it’s far less crowded, and it’s another down hill section. I could get used to this. As such, I’ve really hit my stride now. Mile 2 is a slightly slower 7:34, but spoiler alert, this will be my slowest one of the night. When I enter Wylam at Mile 3, I clock a 7:28. We’re halfway, and this is going rather well.

Wylam is lovely, I know it and have run and cycled through here a few times. It’s famous for two things – a Brewery, and George Stephenson. The latter, the father of the Railway, was born here. Well, sort of. The house is slightly further down the river, but Wylam claim him.

Due to the Brewery, you won’t be surprised to hear that Wylam is full of lovely pubs. Tempting on a warm evening when you’re sweating your bollocks off.

We wind around Wylam, avoiding the beer (I recommend a pint of the Jakehead, if you’re ever in the area) and onto the old Wagonway as we pass Mile 4, which is a 7:25.

Here, a guy who’s been around me since around Mile 2, tells me he thinks my keys might be falling out of my pocket. Which is a bit random, seeing as I’m not carrying any.

I’m confused as first, but then I get it. I don’t pin my race number on with safety pins. I use magnets. I can’t recommend this enough. I’ve been doing this for a few years now, and my Bib and magnets stay intact every time.

However, it makes my Bib really noisy. Other runners have passed comment on it. Some of them jokingly, some of them passive aggressively. This is what he’s talking about, he thinks the noise of my Bib is keys jangling. I mean, this could actually be a dastardly ploy to get me to stop and check, but I thank him anyway.

Next up, the most scenic part of the course. We’re going to cross the Tyne via the old Hagg Bank Railway Bridge. Think of it as a smaller version of the Stand By Me one.

Once over the Bridge, we’ve got about a mile and a half left of flat riverside trail that will take us to the Finish which is…er…back at the Start. My Mile 5 is a 7:26, meaning my pace is still good and I must be hovering somewhere around a cheeky PB.

The last mile is a lovely run in by the River, and it really is quiet now. I can see a couple of runners in front of me, but when I look behind I can’t see anyone. I could be lost like.

I cross the line, with my last Mile a 7:17. Hit the jets on that last one. My coaches would be proud. It’s also a 46:06, knocking 4 seconds off the 10k PB I set at the Cookson in May. I have to be honest, I never expected that, so it’s a nice surprise.

The Mythical Beasts from my club are at the finish and I have a quick chat, before making sure I stay on the line to cheer my mate home. He comes in, looking good, with a 56:47. Well under an hour, he’s massively happy with that, as he should be. A good nights work for both of us.

Therefore, there’s only one thing left to do. Pie and Peas. We head to the Pub and get in the queue. When we reach the front, there is even a selection. Meat, Veggie, Gluten Free, or Vegan. Something for everyone, I think you’ll agree. To say we demolish said Pie and Peas would be an understatement. Hey, I’ve earned it.

You’ll note the lack of Race Photos in this Review. That’s because there aren’t any. There didn’t seem to be anyone taking them, either Amateur or Professional. Which is odd these days, but just goes to show how small a race this was. In a way, there is something quite nice about that.

So, another post Marathon race completed, another PB, and another enjoyable evening. Mark this as one I will definitely do again.

Next up in what is turning out to be the 2025 Grand Tour, it’s Half Marathon time. Now that one, I am planning to attack and hit my PB. Fingers crossed…