The Great North Run

Running ‘The Great North Run’ has never really appealed to me. Fifty thousand people on what is basically a dual carriageway route for 13.1 miles has never inspired me. And yet there is something very special about that particular scenario that inspires people and produces some wonderful stories, a few of which I will share here.

My ‘Great North Run’ started the day before the race, picking up 3 students and a colleague in rain so heavy I wondered in an Ark was a more appropriate method of transport. I’d successfully coerced my colleagues into setting off at 8am with promise of a full English breakfast. Suitably stuffed with the full works, off we went up the M6.

The weather improved the further we got towards Newcastle and we arrived at our accommodation around lunchtime. The first part of my weekend plan was in place: plenty of time to get down to the Quayside to enjoy the City Games invitation match between GB and USA. Our accommodation at Castle Leazes hall of residence (part of Newcastle University) was basic to say the least. But it was clean and comfortable, and cheap. By now the sun was shining and after a short walk we arrived on Newcastle Quayside just in time to see the athletes in the first race – the mile. There are very few people who can say they have been in front of Bernard Lagat and Mo Farah in a race, but I can, and I have photos to prove it! Granted you can’t see me – that’s because I was behind the camera! Other athletes taking part included Dwight Phillips, world Long Jump champion, Hannah England and Preston’s own Helen Clitheroe. More of Helen later.

A fabulous afternoon’s entertainment with some top class athletes, spread across both sides of the River Tyne, and because it was televised live on BBC we also got big screens to watch the action. And the cost of tickets: a big fat ZERO.

The hall of residence provided a pasta meal on Saturday night and at only a fiver it seemed decent enough value. But the lads decided they were still hungry after they’d eaten it. So a plan was hatched. We figured if we all went together for seconds we would be recognised and refused, so one at a time we headed back for more. Unlike Oliver, we were successful. Suitably refreshed with food, we spent the rest of the evening in the bar playing pool and sampling the ale.

We needed an early start on Sunday because although we were staying about 10 minutes away from the start line, we had to be at the finish area. And what route did we have to take? Yes, the route of the race, and we had to do it before the roads closed. Even at 7.45am there was quite an atmosphere building on the course, with water stations and band stands being readied, charities setting up, etc.

The tented village at ‘The Great North Run’ is quite a spectacle: far better than London in my opinion because everyone is together. And the athletes have some brilliant, heart-warming, tear-jerking stories. Such as the young lad of 17 who was running his first half marathon for Anthony Nolan to say Thank you to them for saving his Mum’s life. Oh God, I’m off again as I write this!

And the family of three brothers who were running together for the first time after their Mum had persuaded them that giving stem cells is a good idea.

At this stage I’m going to make an unashamed plea for people reading this, particularly men aged 18-30, to join the Anthony Nolan Register. Please visit www.anthonynolan.org and sign up. To get on the register you only need to spit in a tube and send it off. If you are a match you’ll be asked to give your stem cells – a process that takes 3 days. As a young man said to me in the bar later, “What’s three days out of my life to save someone else’s?” I can’t put it better myself.

Before we started work on the wonderful athletes running for Anthony Nolan there was an opportunity to watch the action on the big screens at the finish line. I got myself right up against the barriers and was able to get some great photos. Naturally the men’s and ladies winners were impressive in winning, with Martin Mathati posting a course record time of 58:57. I was equally impressed, however, with Helen Clitheroe coming 5^th just behind Jo Pavey, in only her first half marathon; and former Manx Harrier Keith Gerard crossing the line as first Brit in the men’s race.

My biggest shout of the day was, of course, for Shelly Woods. For those who don’t know, I first met Shelly over ten years ago. I’d been told about this young girl who was getting into wheelchair racing and could do with some sponsorship. To cut a long story very short, myself Dave Young and Dave Rigby raised about £2500 for Shelly and, being a typical woman, she went shopping with the cash and blew the lot. But we can forgive her because it was a new racing chair. So I was dead chuffed when she won, and it was great to catch up with her afterwards. Ten years ago I said Shelly has a smile that could power the National Grid. Nowt’s changed.

With the winners and pace setters safely home it was time to start work on the real heroes: the ones who raised tens of thousands of pounds for Anthony Nolan. With the work being done by the students I was free to do what I do best – talk! It was great to see Dave and Sue Jones after they finished, looking great in their Anthony Nolan vests. Thank you for running! Stories of courage and sacrifice kept flowing but were interrupted when The Red Arrows took to the skies. With Emma, the widow of Flight Lt John Egging just coming towards the finish, they did their stuff in the skies. All the usual twists, turns, smoke, loops etc. And then the heart-stopping moment when they put a heart in the sky. Yes, they do it every time, but this one was special, and it was followed first by silence, then tears and finally rapturous applause. An emotional day was topped off when I was chatting to a man who gave his bone marrow 17 years ago. After 15 years the recipient said she wanted to meet him, and this year his daughter ran the ‘Great North Run’ with the recipient. That finished me then, and it has done again! I’ll be back in a minute.

Right, where was I? Oh yes, crying like a baby………………. But anyway. I think you’re getting the picture of a great weekend. There was just time after we’d finished with our last runners to have a little walk up to the finish line. By this time they had been on the course almost 5 ½ hours, and still they were coming in. And finally down to the massive tent that had two essential ingredients – a bar and a band. Half an hour chilling in the tent and it was time to make the journey back to Lancashire.

I swear it would have much less exhausting both physically and mentally if I had run ‘The Great North Run’, but I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

Written by: Brian Porter

Submitted: 21^st October 2011

Edited by: Brenda J Earnshaw WRR Editor