Sightseeing Tour (29/01/14) by Adam Widdrington

After following up my initial half-marathon with a further Friday night five miler around the Town Moor, my 500 mile challenge was chugging along nicely. Until disaster struck. A mixture of a virus, January lethargy, and running 19 miles already this year, my body shut down. For two weeks.

As I checked on the other runners’ tallies, I realised I was getting left behind, quite literally. I sensed another impending act of lunacy on the horizon… After discussing how far I could run at work with fellow 5000er Micky Carrick, we reasoned that a three or four miler would be a decent distance to ‘blow the cobwebs off’ and get back into the running swing.

Then something happened...again. My route took me past some glorious landmarks:

Town Moor Central Motorway Newcastle University Haymarket Gallowgate Flame The Gate Nudo Richer Sounds Clayton St. Chippy Centre for Life The Pink Triangle Redheugh Bridge The Central Bar Tyne Bridge Flares Subway Central Station St James’ Park RVI Exhibition Park Town Moor again Gosforth High Street

2 hours and 20 odd minutes later I was home. I wanted to post another jaw-dropping half marathon to put a proverbial Partridge amongst the pigeons, but that was a stretch too far. 11.5 miles got my year total above 30 miles, which psychologically was massive for me (although Jonny Lowes’ mammoth effort of around 80 miles so far is really demoralising for the rest of us).

See the full run at Map My Run

Left outside alone (19/01/14) by Phil Heron

I have been a bit slow to the 500mile/800km party. The first 12 days of 2014 were spent not running at all. They were spent in cars, in bars, flying, working, turning 30, saying hellos and saying goodbyes. After my winter stint in Crawcrook, I flew back to Toronto for the foreseeable future.

Toronto is a bit different to Crawcrook. Some would argue that Crawcrook is more diverse (e.g., white Europeans, the Iranian’s that run Leonardo’s pizza shop, Joe the Moth, etc), but I think they would be wrong. In terms of population of North American cities, Toronto is fourth, behind Mexico City, New York City and Los Angeles. Living in the downtown core, it can be a little crowded (similar to London, I’d assume). Recently, I’ve taken to running without music so that I can hear the traffic, pedestrians and cyclists on the busy roads and streets.

I, like Ben, have been a little daunted by the amount of running needed to be done in order to complete this task. Starting 12 days late didn’t help. But, I headed out on the 12^th January, in sub-zero temperatures, to start the long journey to 500 miles. Pounding the frozen streets, I felt pretty good. My brand new sexy watch I got for Christmas was telling me I was flying along, and I was finally happy to be out and about.

As the run went on, without headphones, my mind started to wander – work, the missus, the lads, will Ben Arfa ever play a 90 minute game away from home, etc. When I started to get into a rhythm, my mind started to focus.

My mind started to focus on a song.

I go to a lot of gigs, and I listen to a lot of music of many different genres. But the song didn’t seem as familiar as some of my favourites.

No, the song was sent to challenge me.

For the last mile and a bit of a relatively short run, I could only think about the Anastacia song ‘Left Outside Alone’.

"And I wonder if you know
How it really feels
To be left outside alone
When it’s cold out here
Well maybe you should know
Just how it feels
To be left outside alone
To be left outside alone"

Over and over again.

I really hope that the next 496 miles will not be soundtracked by what is a rubbish tune.

A Bridge Too Far... by Martin Carrick (09/01/14/)

I’ve seen a couple of the lads have provided updates on their starts to the year, so I thought I’d share mine.  I’ve done a couple of 5 mile runs so far (after doing no running for the last couple of months of last year), so I thought, since I live pretty much exactly 5 miles from work, that it would be a good idea to run home last night. 

I mapped out my journey – pretty easy as far as London runs go, it’s almost just one road from Barbican to Clapham North, where I live.  I haven’t had a drink so far in the new year, so I’ve found myself with a lot of energy, and this left me feeling quite confident about the run home.  Nothing could possibly go wrong, could it?

Yep.

About a mile into my run, just over Blackfriars Bridge.  The way the street lights are positioned means you can see your shadow clearly in front of you.  I kept looking at my shadow because – with my rucksack on my back – it kind of looked like a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle.   I thought it was funny.  Until my shadow changed very suddenly.  Something ‘came out of it’ briefly, and then it went back to normal.

“Hmmmmmmmmmm,” I thought.  And then it hit me. 

I stopped, turned around, and was confronted with the site of my work clothes trailing back about ten feet.  The zip on my bag had come open.  I had to walk back, picking up my clothes, while about 100 Londoners (in London there are always about 100 people around you at all times) looked and laughed at me.

I ran the next 4 miles very cautiously, stopping every half mile to check that my zip was secure.

I haven’t searched Twitter yet for the dickhead who was running with an open bag on Blackfriar’s Road, but I’m sure it’s on there.

Just the facts (15/01/14)... by Martin Hands

I’m going to play to my strengths to describe my first run, stats instead of words.

Miles covered : 4.11

Weather: Dark

Precipitation: 90% of all air

Blisters : 1 new, one opened up

Flies swallowed : zero

Major moments of note : zero

Puddles hit : 49

Puddles dodged : zero

No. of Colloccini ‘I Want Curly hair too’ t-shirts seen in public : 1

Tactical trumps to avoid a Paula Radcliffe : 4

School kids shouting OI : 2

School kids to took chase to be quickly outpaced : 1

Run of the Week: Week 1... Adam Widdrington

Taking on a challenge of this magnitude was always going to need an outrageous beginning to make sure my ‘game teeth’ were in and it’s fair to say I didn’t disappoint myself.

Having given myself four days off, the pressure intensified as I watched fellow 5000er Ben Harrison run three times in the first three days of the year. I’ve been competitive with Ben since he beat me at noughts and crosses at the age of three, so I couldn’t let him get too far ahead of me so early on.

I’ve just moved to Gosforth, so I eyed a loop around the town moor and back home which would give me a starting tally of about six miles, potentially sneaking in a second town moor revolution before sauntering off home to enjoy the Sunday football

Then something happened

An internal battle between my ambition and my better judgement ensued, AFTER I set off, I might add. I say battle, it began as a car salesman-like negotiation: ‘Well if I’m doing six miles, I might as well do eight. If I’m doing eight – let’s just make it double figures…’ The negotiation was quick and ruthless. Before I knew it I was heading across the footbridge over the Central Motorway on my way to…Jesmond?

By this point I was looking very unimpressive, gleaned by reactions looking back at me running past various coffee establishments. I was still notching a decent mile average of around 11 minutes and this was the first exercise I had done since overstretching my groin playing football in November.

By the time I got back to the town moor, the thought of completing another revolution made me shudder and I’m certain my testicles retreated an extra inch back into my abdomen. I had to sit down on a nearby bench (which given the testicle situation had to be approached with caution).

Nine miles in and I suddenly considered the adulation and respect of my peers that running a half marathon would bring. The trophies, the endless retweets and Facebook likes. I could go viral. I leapt to my feet and set off back down the Great North Road in search of fame.

After some complex mental arithmetic, I worked out the exact point where I could stop running further away from the leftover pizza in my fridge, and start bridging that gap. And bridge I did. Extremely slowly. I adopted the running style which makes it appear like you’re expending a lot of energy, however in seriousness; a child’s stride would leave you for dust.

I went past a Subway, Pizza Express and Greggs on Gosforth High Street lamenting my decision to head out without any cash and even had to text my fiancée Isobel to inform her that I wasn’t dead. I was to be gone for almost three hours and 13.77 miles later, my withered body arrived home, urgently needing support from Isobel who begrudgingly helped me into a new set of clothes in the living room. ‘It weren’t pretty’

This tale is far from heroic. It does not truly represent my running ability. I did not receive the expected adulation. This was a random act of lunacy but one that I have no regrets about, although my thighs may have something to say about that

I can still smell the lactic acid.

Bring on the other 486.23 miles!!

PS At least I got my pizza:

The 500 mile challenge begins... by Ben Harrison (08/01/14)

Like so many stories of great heroism and sacrifice, mine begins on a windswept, rainy morning on Old Main Street, Crawcrook. I am, rather optimistically, wearing shorts, together with a new running top, which is either pleasantly slimming, or unpleasantly tight, depending which angle you catch me at. It’s the first of January 2014. And I am about to start running 500 miles for charity.

At this moment, I’m not entirely sure why.

I am not an experienced runner, although I did start taking it more seriously last year. During my New Year celebrations, I got an automatic message from Map My Run, telling me of my “achievements in 2013”. This was a year that saw me enter my second 10km race ever, and my first half marathon. I trained reasonably diligently for both, putting in countless miles around Hampstead Heath. I was becoming a long distance athlete, wasn’t I?

And yet, upon reviewing these numbers, I felt only despair. For in 2013, I ran a total of 360km. Yes, fans of the imperial system, that’s just over 223 miles. 200 miles more than in 2012, granted, but less than half the total I am committed to running during 2014.

Armed with, and alarmed by, these statistics, there was quite literally no time to lose. Rain and gale force winds could not be an excuse to spend the first day of the year in doors. And so I did what any sane person would do in my situation: I ran to Prudhoe. And then I ran back again. Slowly.

I was underway. It had taken a big effort, but no longer did I have 500 miles to run in the next 12 months! I had roughly 496.5 to go.

Buoyed by this progress, I set off again on the 2^nd of January, this time taking in the sights of Wylam – definitely a run of two halves; one downhill through Sled Lane, one enormously uphill back to Crawcrook. Just 493 to go.

And then on the 3^rd of January, I…errr…well…I…ran back to Prudhoe again. And it rained again. And I was slow; again.

This has, in many respects, been a humbling beginning to the 500 mile challenge, as the realisation has dawned that not only do so many stories of great heroism and sacrifice begin in the wind and rain of Crawcrook, but most rely on hard work and determination, and are, as my running routes, and new running top amply demonstrate, extremely unglamorous.

Not so much glorious; more gruelling repetition.

I anticipate the lads will all react in different ways to this realisation – Adam has already lost his mind and ran an impromptu half marathon as his first effort of 2014.

And yet there is cause for hope.

For starters, I am no longer in Crawcrook. I won’t be running along main roads and bypasses. Hampstead Heath and Finsbury Park beckon instead.

Also, the first three runs of the year are out of the way.

And most importantly, there’s only 489.5 miles to go!

Sweet and Sour Start for Micky... by Michael Carrick (08/01/14)

Well I completed my first run after a rather too indulgent Festive period at the Newcastle Parkrun at Exhibition Park on Saturday 4^th January.  While I initially had concerns about actually being able to complete the 5km (3.2mi) run, I was quite pleased to complete the run, and with an average pace of well below 10min per mile (9:38min/mile).  This gave me a total time for the run of 30:50 according to the Parkrun timing system, some way short of my PB which stands at 29:25 (which I WILL beat this year).

So that was quite a decent start and one I was hoping to build on over the coming weeks.  However on the Monday I was struck down by the dreaded MAN FLU!  This has meant no running for me this week and has put me under pressure already to get the miles in.  Fingers crossed I will be back running by the weekend and I am hoping to put in a 10k with my brother who is home at the weekend and hopefully Mr. Robinson, if I can get both of them out of bed…