With Christmas I suppose. Merry Christmas! Or Merry whatever it is you do or don’t celebrate at this time of year.
Anyway, it wouldn’t be the most ‘wonderful’ time of the year without the Notbuilttorun Christmas Special, delivered as always without fail on December 24th. Apart from that time I posted it in April. But we don’t talk about that.
So before we dive into watching the greatest Christmas film of all time (it’s Die Hard by the way, don’t @ me), let’s take a look back at 2025.
I was trying to think of a word to sum up my running year. If I was one of those influencer wankers, it would probably be something like ‘Epic’ or ‘Humbling.’ But I’m not. So the word is ‘Busy.’
I’ve literally put the miles in this year. As we stand, I’m going to finish up just shy of 2,000. I’m knackered.
It all started innocently enough back in January with the North Tyneside Trail Run – a 12km slog through the mud, snow, and ice of my local Dene.
Life is a Beach
I only did it as a last hurrah before knuckling down to Marathon training a week later. It was hard work, reminded me of why I don’t do cross country, and I vowed never to do it again. Anyway, I’m signed up to do it again.
As just mentioned, my main focus of the year was running the Belfast Marathon in May. 16 weeks of training started in January and, bizarrely, I really enjoyed it.
The Marathon itself could not have gone better. Perfect running conditions, I felt fantastic on the day, finishing just under my target time in 4:06.
It was definitely the high point of my year. Hell, it’s probably the high point of my running ever. I was buzzing. I’m still buzzing. I’m a Marathoner now, and I TELL EVERYONE.
Did I mention the Marathon?
After the epic feat of completing that Marathon, it would have been easy to stick the feet up for the last 6 months of the year, stuffing my face with carbs and getting podgy.
Instead, within weeks I attacked three 10k races – Cookson 10k, The Blaydon Race and the Tynedale Pie and Peas 10k. On all three occasions I smashed my 10k PB, taking advantage of the superpowers acquired from 16 weeks of hard slog between January and May.
Levitating at the Cookson
I felt good all summer if I’m honest. To the point that I thought I had a great chance to also PB my Half Marathon time. In July, at the Newcastle Half Marathon, I went for it, hitting an amazing (for me) 1:44:50.
I like this photo because of its shitness
I follow this up in August with the Blyth 10k, where I’m robbed of another 10k PB – the new course being measured short by 0.02 of a KM. The swines.
Robbed at Bylth
Then in September it’s an old favourite and an ever present on the running calendar – The Great North Run. The M25 of organised races, I knew there was no way I would find the space to match my sub 1:45 from a couple of months before. However, I still manage to break my course PB, finishing in 1:46:20.
Bossing the GNR
Another race I do every single year is the North Tyneside 10k. Usually held on Easter Sunday, due to work going on down the sea front, it’s postponed till the end of September. And, yes, you’ve guessed it, my 10k PB falls again. This time it’s a 45:26.
NT10k PB
Having then said I never do anything that even vaguely resembles cross country, in October I somehow sign up and run the Coxhoe Trail Run. Thankfully, it’s rain, mud and cold free, but hard bastard work. I still do a credible 46:38 on quite a hilly course.
Nee Mud Mate
Then, finally, in November, it’s my favourite race of the year, the Brampton to Carlisle 10 Mile Road Race. A glorified club piss up with a pesky 10 mile race beforehand, I feel fantastic on the day and put in probably my best performance of the year. I knock nearly 4 minutes off my 10 mile PB, with a 1:15:56.
Brampton to Carlisle
Phew. What a year. Not even mentioning the running I managed to squeeze in during trips to London, Edinburgh, and France.
There we go. The Christmas Special is done. You can crack out Die Hard 2 now (actually more of a festive film than the first one), tuck into a cheeky Toblerone, and breathe.
As you’ve probably noticed, the movies and quotes I pick for each blog post have absolutely fuck all to do with the content. Well, maybe apart from the War Games one.
I just pick them out from my favourite films. This one is from Dog Soldiers. If you haven’t seen it, it’s an underrated gem and I highly recommend you seek it out. Spoon, the character quoted here, is from my part of the world. So as an aside, if you want to know what I sound like in ‘real life’, I sound like Spoon.
Anyway, Dog Soldiers, it’s brilliant. Watch it and thank me later.
The reason this is ‘sort of’ the Blyth 10k, is that it isn’t the official one. That happens in May, starts and finishes somewhere else, and is mass participation. This one forms part of my clubs series of races, so is more of a closed shop.
The official title of this one is actually ‘The Blyth Links 10k.’ Add the word Links, avoid a legal case. There used to be a shop quite near me called ‘Singhsburys’. Which I thought was very clever. Sainsburys disagreed. So he changed it to ‘Morrisinghs’. Genius.
I digress.
This is Race 1 of 8 in our Winter Grand Prix. I’ve talked about the Grand Prix before, so I won’t bore you with it again, but in essence it’s a great way to keep everyone motivated during the dark shite weather months, by making us all race against one another for points.
I’ve also mentioned before that I’m hugely uncompetitive. So I just check the handicap they’ve given me, turn up, and try to run as fast as I can. I never look at what points I scored or where I am in the standings. Run against yourself, that’s always been my mantra.
Technical and philosophical bollocks aside, it’s time to kick off the Grand Prix season with this 10k. This first one is also an anomaly in itself. It’s the longest one we’ll do for a start – the next six are the same 3.4 mile course – whilst the final one is a 5 miler.
Also, this is the only one that’s a proper old Skool race. No handicaps, everyone lines up at the start at the same time and lets rip.
I also quite like this course. It’s about 5 miles up the coast from where I live, but a route I’m hugely familiar with. When I was training for my first half marathon, nearly 20 years ago now, I used to drive here to get a 10k in.
Since then, I’ve ran through here more times than I care to remember – as part of 10, 13, 16, and even 22 mile training runs. It’s a much quieter part of the coast compared to where I live – a few dog walkers here and there is about as busy as it gets.
Tonight though, it is busy. Around 230 have turned up to race. It’s a ‘balmy’ late August evening. Still don’t know what balmy means, but someone told me that’s how it felt. It’s been quite a warm day, with a slight westerly breeze. Seeing as we’ll only be running North or South, I don’t mind.
It’s down as a 6:45pm start. I’m getting a lift and we all agree that if we get there for 6:30pm, that’s plenty of time to pick up our numbers before the start. It really should be. If the car park wasn’t full.
Therefore, we have to park around a mile away and leg it to the start. Thankfully, we’re not the only ones with this problem. As a result, they delay the race by 10 minutes to 6:55pm. Sorry not sorry.
I had heard through the grapevine that this isn’t the usual course. I’ve not seen what the new course is and, as usual, it’s completely impossible to make out the race instructions at the start (megaphone or PA system or it’s just pointless tbh). So I still don’t know.
But you know, it’s not like I’m going to be winning or owt, so I’ll just follow the crowd and the instructions of the marshalls.
Even the start is different. I mean, we’re facing the wrong way just for starters. This new course is either going to be an adventure, or highly annoying. Let’s see.
We’re off. No gun or horn goes, but the fasties at the front start running, so we all do. We’re right on the prom with the sea to our right. We’re not here for long though. We take a hard left, then another left, and we’re into the Dunes.
Dunes? How do you run through Dunes? Well, you don’t really. A number of years ago, they very cleverly built a multipurpose path right through the middle of them. Perfect for cyclists, walking your dog, and running.
It’s a bit up and down. We are in Dunes, but nothing major. I really like running through here, it’s a bit different, although it may be a mixture of nostalgia and familiarity kicking in.
Now, on the usual route, we’d follow this Dune path all the way to its end, where it pops out at the Village of Seaton Sluice. Not tonight though. Around half way, we’re ushered off to the right by a Marshall.
This takes us on to the main road and heading back towards the start. Interesting. I smell laps. We’ve only run 2 of the 6 miles, and I’m actually quite happy with how it’s going so far. Both are 7:24 miles, which is in and around PB territory.
As predicted, it is laps. We’re directed right and back on to the Dune path. This time though, we’re going to stay on it longer. My mile 3 is a 7:20, and I’m feeling it a bit here.
The field has spread out a lot though and I’m practically running on my own. I have noticed however, that I’ve passed a few fellow club runners who are usually faster than me.
Now, before I get too excited, I did expect this to a certain extent. It is the end of August. I know quite a few in my club who wind down their running over the summer. In fact, I know some who stop all together.
People go on holiday at this time of year, many of whom aren’t sad fuckers like me, who takes his gear with him and runs up ridiculous French hills at 7am in 32 degrees..
The point is, these are great runners who are just out of form. Next race in a month’s time, they’ll be flying past me like I’m not even there. I may win this battle, but I won’t win the war.
Back in the trenches of the Dune path, we’ve gone past the point we were directed off before, and carry on for around another mile. Here, the Dunes flatten out for a little bit. They’ve built a children’s play park here, which is the point at which we hang a sharp right again, off the Dune path, and back on to the main road again.
We hit mile 4 here, which is a 7:26. Again, this is in or around 10k PB pace. We’ll now be heading back on the straight, flat main road all the way back to the finish now. With 2 miles left, I think I’ve worked out the remaining course in my head, and it won’t involve any more of the Dune path.
I now have no one around me, save from 2 runners 20 yards ahead. For the next mile, it feels like we match pace. I never lose nor gain ground on them, despite getting quicker and posting a 7:18 mile 5.
This is also the point of the race where the only photo of me is taken. Aaaand, it’s shit.
Absolute state of it
I now definitely know what the remaining mile is going to be. Keep going on this straight road, until we get to the Bandstand at the end of the beach, right onto the Prom, then straight onto the finish.
Knowing the end is nigh, I get a second wind. I’m now gaining on the two runners in front, passing them both just before the 6 mile mark. My mile 6 is 7:14, fastest one of the night, and I get the Tom Cruise arms out for a sprint finish over the line.
10km down in 45:30. It’s a PB.
Or is it.
Because it looks like we haven’t done 10k. That’s right, the course is short. Everyone coming over the line complains that their watches are saying 9.97km…or 9.98km..or 9.99km. One thing is for certain – no bugger ran 10km. Including me.
That’s right, I was a 9.99km. I’ve been robbed. You know what? I’m not arsed. No really. I’m not bothered. I’m delighted with the run. When the results come out the next day, I’ve finished 85th out of 229. For a race full of absolute club beasts, that’s a win.
6.21 for a true 10k. Allegedly.
I stick about at the finish to clap in all of my club colleagues. Also, let’s be honest here, I got a lift here so I’ll need a lift back.
It’s after 8pm before we head back to the car and it’s noticeable darker. A reminder that this is Race 1 of the Winter Grand Prix and, well, Winter is coming.
“So, the Labyrinth is a piece of cake, is it? Well, let’s see how you deal with this little slice…”
Jareth, Labyrinth
Now that pesky Marathon is out the way, it’s time to get back to racing. Well, I don’t really have a choice. I’d forgotten I’d signed up to a 10k race just two weeks later. Why am I so stoopid, to quote the brilliant Sifan Hassan.
This is also a 10k race with a mile climb in it. That you do twice. However, it is a hill I know well, as I grew up at the top of it. My youth was spent, walking, cycling, running, and drunkenly staggering up it. The latter when I was bit older, obviously. Therefore, I like to think I have the ‘muscle memory’ advantage. I tell myself that, anyway.
When I was a kid, I used to watch this race every year. I would sit on the wall outside my house and clap the runners as they passed. I always said that one day I would do it. It took a couple of decades, but eventually I did.
I know, that sounds like a proper shit film. And it would be. At least if we got Michael Bay to direct, it might have some ridiculous explosions in it. What am I even talking about. Who knows.
Back to the Cookson, post-Marathon I’ve been ok. My left hip has been a little sore, but not when running and not to the point where I’m in any real pain. I’m just aware of it.
My biggest problem has been the need to retrain myself to run fast. Or untrain my Marathon pace. And I have 2 and a half weeks to do it.
Someone at the club has told me though, having gained a tremendous level of fitness from the training blocks, I should be hammering out belter 10ks. I’m not convinced.
I want to try and match or better my Cookson time from last year, which will require a 7:58 pace. On my runs leading up to here, I’ve been nowhere near that. However, in a race situation with others, it’s amazing what you can pull out the bag. Or so I hope. As a precaution, I spend the 48 hours leading up to the race shouting ‘faster you bastards’ at my legs. That should do it.
The great thing about this race is that the Start and Finish are less than a mile from my house. So I really have no excuse. I’m allegedly at the top of my running fitness game, with no ball ache logistics getting there and back. Basically, I have no excuses if I’m shit.
Just taking a look at the course, it’s 2 laps of the below. As I mentioned earlier, from the green dot to the roundabout just before the 7 is the hill. What goes up, must come down though, so from just before the 8 to back to the start is downhill. So, two long climbs, two long drops.
Not as flat as it looks
Last year, my build up wasn’t exactly ‘elite’ standard. I was in Greece on a family holiday, only landing 4 hours before the start time. My hydration and pre race diet wasn’t great either. I think I sweated out about 20 gallons of Mythos. Despite all of that, I got a PB. No, me neither.
As tempting as it was to prepare for this year in a similar fashion, downing copious amounts of Mediterranean Larger on the days leading up to it isn’t really recommended. It’s not big, and it’s not clever. It is fun though.
After an attempt at the weekend to do 10 miles at a faster pace, I follow this up with an easy 5 on the Monday. Then on the Tuesday, I skip the Club session and have a rest day. Look at me, what a pro.
So to Race night, and it’s not a bad evening for a run, 11c and sunny. There has been a manky coldish wind kicking about for a few days. As usual, it’s coming in off the sea, but in this instance that’s a good thing, as it will be behind us on the climbs.
The aforementioned start (and finish) is at a local school. As I half arsedly walk towards it, it’s the usual pre-race scenes I’ve grown accustomed to. Pockets of beasts doing shuttle runs, sprints, slow jogs, whatever their poison is. This used to intimidate me. Now I’m tired just watching them.
I dump my stuff in the school and have a good old chin wag with some of my fellow club runners. I’m still drinking off the glory of my Marathon exploits, in that I’m still being asked about it, so it’s nice to continue boring people with it nearly 3 weeks later.
After a few minutes of holding court, we head down to the starting corral. This isn’t a massive race, 500 places with only about 400 of those usually turning out. Due to us starting on a pedestrian path though, it can feel quite congested at the start.
Some quick words from the Race Director (basically, be careful now) and away we go. As soon as we start, we hit a sharpish right turn. This bit is always a little chaotic. I marshalled this point one year and thought I was going to die. Death by a thousand Vaporflys, trampling over my head.
I feel great once we start. Perhaps too good, as I notice I’m doing sub 7 min mile pace. Whoa there. I slow down, but not too much, seeming to settle on around a 7:40 pace for this first mile up the hill.
Still, that’s quite quick for me on a 10k. Once at the top we pass my childhood home, and I give the aforementioned gate post I used to sit on and watch this race a slap as I pass it. They’ll stick that in the movie.
It’s a quick right into the Lonnen. This is another trip down memory lane. The Lonnen is basically an old short country road that connected two villages. It was at the end of my road, so I used to play down it as a kid a lot.
Not only that, it’s also where I started my running journey. It’s a quiet road most of the time, and as it winds round fields, it’s sort of like being in the countryside, even though you’re not. So perfect for running. Sadly, it’s also doomed. 5,000 houses are about to go up around it. Progress eh?
Nostalgia aside, it also marks the point that we’re going to be heading down hill for a mile or so. It’s a lovely early summer evening, and flying down through the fields with the sun starting to set will never get boring. It’s nights like tonight why I run.
Running Utopia
As I head round to complete Lap 1, I’m aware that this is going quite well. I feel quite strong and my pace is in for a Cookson and 10k PB. However, Lap 2 of this is always the tester. You’ve just done a quick 5k, can you climb for a mile?
I said at the start of this review that I had the advantage of muscle memory when it came to this hill. Well, it’s time to test that theory. I attack it from the off and feel great. I’m passing people who are huffing and puffing on the way up, turning to them as I pass and shout ‘WHAT YOU GOT?’ That last bit may be a lie. However, I know that these people will shoot past me on the flat and downhill. That’s life. For now, I’ll have my moment on the hill.
I’m maintaining pace once I hit the flat and still feel strong. This is going great and, whatever happens now, this is going to be a really enjoyable run. One of those where you’re not fighting to keep going, you feel loose and fast, but I’m also not arsed about what everyone else is doing. If people are passing me on these closing stages, I’m not even noticing to be honest.
Levitating with half a mile to go
I cross the line in 46:32, with a pace of 7:25. It’s a 10k PB, 4 minutes faster than last year. I’m given an official time of 46:30, finishing in a respectable middle of the pack 182nd. Not a bad nights work.
Love a hill
As the course itself is just over 6.2 miles, my official 10k PB pings up as 46:10. If I never run a quicker 10k in my life, I’ll be absolutely fine with that. This is my ‘home’ course, so if this is the one my PB will always stand against, it would be quite profound. If you believe in that kind of shite.
Because of all the above, it’s fair to say I’m delighted with this run. When races come together like this, weather, pace, body, mind and enjoyment, you embrace them.
Next up, the iconic Blaydon Race in June. Hopefully, I bottle whatever I’ve got at the minute and take it with me. Especially if it’s a bottle of EPO. I’m kidding again. I have no idea where to buy it.
The fact is, I’m having fun with my running at the moment, and isn’t that really what it should all be about?
Happy 2025. Proper sounds like we’re in the future now. Which isn’t great, as most of the futures I imagine are from watching far too many dystopian sci-if films. We’ll soon either be wiped out by a Virus, something from Space, or by machines and AI of our own making. 5 years ago we would have scoffed at those predictions.
In the Christmas Special, the overriding theme was that 2024 was an exceptionally good running year for me. PBs galore, I felt like I had really levelled up.
Halfway through the year, when I was starting to run well and see improvements, I made a rather impulsive decision. One that I said I would never do.
I signed up for a Marathon.
I started running ‘properly’ back in the late 2000s for reasons I’ve already written about. Since then I’ve ran a lot, and all sorts of distances. 5ks, 10ks, 10 milers. I think I’ve worked out that I’ve completed the Half Marathon distance nearly 40 times.
But never a Marathon. There is a good reason for that. I’ve never wanted to. Let’s face it, Marathons are different gravy. The jump from 5k to 10k isn’t that massive when you think about it, same with 10k to Half.
Half to Full Marathon though, that’s huge. Physically and psychologically. It’s another double figures of miles you have to find. You have to think about a training plan and fuelling. There are no shortcuts and no hiding. You can’t just rock up having put in half arsed preparation.
With all that in mind, I’ve always talked myself out of doing one. I don’t have time, I don’t have the fitness, it’s not fair on the family, and most importantly of all, I don’t want to make myself look like a tit by failing.
Now the next thing I’m going to say might upset some people. It’s not the Vegans this time either. Are we ready?
Marathons are Running events. Not participation events.
Call me a traditionalist, but they were designed to be RUN. They have cut off times for a reason. Before anyone starts shouting at me, people turning up for Parkrun and walking is absolutely fine. That’s kind of what Parkrun is about. Marathons though, no.
The point is, I didn’t want to attempt one until I thought I could run the whole distance. Which is why it’s now or never, do or die, shit or bust.
I won’t have a better opportunity than now. I’m running so well, with a great base to start from, and part of a club where I can get good, solid support, advice and coaching, I’d be nuts not to give it a crack. No pun intended.
I’m not getting any younger either. I will hit my mid 40s in 2025. I’m under no illusions that very soon things are going to get harder, things are going to start niggling. Things might even start to fall off.
So, May the 4th 2025, I’m off to run 26.2 miles around Belfast. 16 weeks of training begins January 13th. All my eggs are in one basket. Nowt else matters this year, there are no other goals. Get the training done, get to the starting line, hit my target time.
Hopefully in June I’ll be looking back and laughing at what all the fuss was about. Or something might have fallen off after all.
So Happy New Year, attack 2025, and do whatever makes you tick.
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