“Ride like the wind, Bullseye!”

Woody, Toy Story 2

There’s a dad joke that everyone does at my local running club.

‘You doing the Blaydon Race?’

‘No. When is it?’

If you’re from the North East of England, then I hope for at least a small chuckle. If you’re not, then I expect tumbleweed.

You see the Blaydon Race always takes place on the same date every year, the 9th June. That’s because it’s based on a very famous song round here, that you’ll be shocked to know is called ‘The Blaydon Races.’ That’s about a race. In Blaydon. That happened on the 9th June.

That original 9th June occurred way back in 1861, and it was Horses, not Ken from Accounts in his Vaporflys, running it. It was such a success, they asked a local composer, Geordie Ridley, to write a song about it to drum up punters for the 1862 meet. Bit like asking Justin Timerlake to strut about, grabbing his crotch, singing ‘Ow, the Stanley Cup final is next week, shumon’ or something.

To quote Run DMC, it went a little something like this..

There’s even quite a famous painting, based on the song, that is in turn based on the race. Anyway, never mind a Horse Racing Meet, this looks more like some of the nights out I had in the 90s.

Fast forward to 1981 and the local Running Club, The Blaydon Harriers, cleverly decide to organise a race that gets as close as possible to recreating the original route mentioned in the song.

In short, History lesson over, every year on the 9th June there is a 5.8 mile Race that runs from Newcastle to Blaydon. Still with me? Lovely.

This year, the 9th June falls on a Monday night. I’m looking forward to it if I’m honest. I’m really enjoying my running at this point in time. I’m running well, not feeling any pressure of having to hit times and paces, but knowing that I can go fairly quickly without it being an uncomfortable or painful effort. It’s a good place to be.

What was that? I haven’t mentioned the weather yet? You know me too well dear reader. It’s going to be shit. Depending on which App you believe, it’s either going to rain lightly or rain heavily. But it is definitely going to rain.

Aware that I may be drenched at the finish, I pack a change of clothes. I also pack my stuff into a waterproof bag inside my normal backpack, as I know my baggage will be sitting on the grass at the finish, exposed to the elements. I’ve being doing this far too long.

One of the Pros of working from home, is that I’m able to get changed, sorted, and out the door for my old friend the Bastard Metro in plenty of time. There are loads of runners from my club doing this tonight, therefore there’s quite a few at the Station when I get there.

When we arrive, there is rain in the air, but it’s light. Which is just as well, as we’re going to be standing around it in for a while. Despite the race not starting till 7:30pm, everything has to be on the Baggage Buses by 6:20pm.

One thing it isn’t is cold. So I may be wet, but I’m warm wet. Which sounds dodgy when you say it out loud. I mentioned earlier that there were shitloads of runners from my Club doing this one. So we all head to the front of the Law Courts for a big group photo. The Mayor, never one to pass up a photo op, jumps in on it. The cheeky bastard.

Despite the song telling us to start outside the Balmbra’s Music Hall in the city centre, we’re on the Quayside. For two reasons really. Balmbra’s is long gone for one. The second reason is just speculation, but I imagine the surge in popularity of the race has meant that, logistically, it’s far easier to manage down here by the river.

I do a mile warm up, then wait for one of my fellow runners to have a quick piss. At this point I bump into someone I used to work with who I haven’t seen in ages. Unfortunately, whilst I enjoy the catch up and salacious gossip about my ex-colleagues, I lose track of time. And don’t get in the Pen in time. Whoops.

There is no way of getting in now either. Not only am I not in the Pen, I’m at the back behind a huge crowd and can’t even push my way through. Not that I would anyway. That would be a dick move.

You know what? Starting at the back might be fun. It’s a new challenge. My gun time will be shite, but at least it should make things interesting.

I’m so far back, I don’t even hear the gun. I’ve no idea even if the race has started. It must of though, as those of us at the back are funnelled into the pen. I eventually get over the line at around the 5 minute mark.

Remember 2 paragraphs ago when I said starting at the back might be fun? It isn’t. It’s a fucking nightmare. I’m not blaming other runners though. Most people have got into the pen based on their pace. I’m the one who’s fucked up and hasn’t.

Therefore I’m having to duck and weave around much slower runners. Again though, I can’t stress enough how much I’m cursing my own stupidity at this stage, and not anyone I have to pass. They all started at the right spot. El Dipshit here didn’t.

The first two miles follow the road along the River. This is the part I spend most of my time zig zagging around other people. Unsurprisingly then, that these turn out to be my slowest 2 miles of the night – a 7:42 and a 7:36. Still not too shabby though.

We then pop out at Scotswood Road where, as I expected, the field opens up and there is a bit more space. That’s because I’ve managed to pass the majority of the back of the field, coupled with it being a dual carriageway and a wider road.

We’re going to be on Scotswood Road for 2 miles ish. It’s raining, but like Andie MacDowell, I haven’t noticed. 4 Weddings is a shite film by the way. I’m British, I’m allowed to say that. I’ve hit my stride now anyway. I feel strong. I feel like my pace is fairly quick but sustainably.

And my pace is quick. Mile 3 is 7:15. Look at me. I go over the Scotswood Bridge onto the South side of the River and hit a 7:19 Mile 4. I’m amazed at how good I feel at those paces. Marathon and Club night training doing its thing.

Just the Blaydon Highway, another dual carriageway, to go before we turn into Shibdon Park where we’ll finish on the grass. My Mile 5 is another 7:15. I think it’s fair to say, I’ve made up a lot of the ground from starting at the back.

I’m starting to feel it a little bit now. I definitely couldn’t sustain this pace for a 10 miler or a Half Marathon, that’s for certain. Having said that though, my last .80 of a mile is still a 7:21.

So, onto the field, last push to the Finish line, and I’m over in 43:39. I will take that and then some, especially when you consider my start. I’m also quite impressed with my second 5k. Signs that, maybe, there’s an even faster 10k in there somewhere.

It’s still raining lightly when I finish, and my bag is out in the open as predicted. So putting stuff in the waterproof bag was a good idea. Go me.

What I also like about this race is the Finishers pack. You get a running shirt, which I’m always grateful for, plus a sandwich and a can of Beer. All bases covered.

I spot one of my fellow club runners and we head straight for the free buses back to the start. This is really well organised, we’re straight on, and it doesn’t take us long to get back.

Being British, we head to the Pub. Course we do. Quite a few of the crew are there, but it’s quieter than usual, the rain has got a bit harder and put a few off.

A couple of pints down the hatch to quench the thirst, before I head off with a couple of others for the Metro home. Which breaks down halfway back. Because it’s shit.

Metro shitness aside, it’s been another good night of racing. Yes, I fucked the start up, but I’m more than happy with how I ran. Plus, I enjoyed it. That’s the key. Yes, getting a good time is great and all, but if you’re not enjoying it, then what’s the point?

Next up, the Tynedale Pie and Peas 10k in July where, guess what, you get Pie and Peas at the end. I mean, what’s not to like?