Wink, Wink - the Quayside 5K

In a fit of impetuous mad-cappery, I found myself entering the Quayside 5K and the Battersea 5k. Both events are organized by Runthrough and the cost was twenty notes for the Quayside Event and a further twenty six for Battersea, the latter to be held in the summer. 

I am not sure who I am trying to impress with all these short sharp events, but when it comes to road racing, I'm aiming to keep the pain down below 20 minutes. As it turned out, Missus Mac also had designs on the 'B event' and we made our way to the Toon accompanied by PS and GB. We arrived early and walked the mile and a bit to the Baltic to collect our numbers. The course starts on the Newcastle Quayside and is an out-and-back affair, finishing across the Millenium Bridge in Gateshead. The bridge is dubbed 'the blinking eye', because after almost 5k, if your eyes aren't blinking uncontrollably in a Inspector Clouseu/Dreyfus fashion, you've simply not been trying hard enough. 

In the Baltic Building, an old flour mill, I dug out the new Mizunos (after slapping on the Compeed on the heels) and pulled them on. Snug. All white and pastel green. If these new mothers didn't save me an extra handful of seconds I don't know what would.  

I ran over the bridge and warmed up in an implausible manner that had the words 'feeble fossil' plastered all over it.  The Terry O Gara 5k (as the 'A race' is styled) attracts some whippets and with a cut-off time of 20 minutes, I only just scraped in. 

Starting at the back of the 150 or so athletes, it took me 10 seconds to cross the line. After that, things were just a blur of coloured vest wearing trainer-jockeys, its a knockout street furniture and bemused anorak wearing punters and their dogs out for a quiet stroll along the Tyne.  There are no inclines in this event other than the raised edges of slabs waiting to pounce, and, after a mile, I had clocked 6.09min/mile - a tad fast - on the second mile I tried to hang in with a girl wearing a black vest of the Rotherham Club - I reflected that if she had come 100 miles to run here, she would be full on and committed and I could keep out of the very slight headwind that threatened to upset the return.  However, she powered on a little keenly in the last kilometre and I was left to hang on, instead, to a tall Heaton athlete. The photos kindly provided after the event show me suffering badly in the last 200 metres with enough slaver hanging outside my gob to have me certified as a possible rabies sufferer. Missus Mac reliably informs me that this is due to dehydration - so note to self - drink more water before an event or wear a bag over my head when the cameras are around.

I crossed the line in 19:38 and was 3 seconds off 3rd M60. I could see the Tynedale lad in front, but couldn't manage to muster any more gumption to force me forward - I was cooked. Gas Mark 6. Vaporized. 

An expensive pint of Neck Oil and equally pricey comestibles in the Bridge Hotel afterwards, and it was back on the train to Peth. Mental. Where's me slippers.....   

Newburn Relays 2025

Good Friday means either church (for some), shopping for others or the Newburn Easter Relays for those of the unhinged variety - the athletics race meeting is held just at the edge of Newcastle. The run takes place on the edge of an industrial estate which was a graphite works back in the day. In a former life the part of the site was used for mustard gas production during the 1st World War and was known as 'Canary Island'. There was also a power station, Stella North, located in the west of the site which is situated within an ox bow formed by the River Tyne. Yes, I know I am a font of knowledge. I happened to work on the brownfield reclamation in the 1990's. A lifetime ago.  

I hadn't any plans to contribute to the relays, made up of four legs. They are 2.1 miles in length and on a flat course; but I was asked if I was available and, having no other commitments,  I confirmed my availability; which was big of me, I know.  

It was cool but dry with no wind. The ladies race (3 runners per team) was in full swing when I arrived. The 3 Macs made up the Morpeth B team (a family affair) and were already flogging themselves up and down long lengths of tarmac for no good or obvious reason. They finished 15th team out of around 100 teams - yes, one hundred teams - its a big date on the North East running calendar - no fun runners running here.

The men and vets were up next and I was last leg on the crack M60's team. There is no obvious way to tell which age group runners are in, but I guess the thin grey skinned, wheezing spindly affairs dropping off the back of the bunch early doors are more likely to be the oldies. 

I set off on the last leg and got into my stride early, catching 3 very quickly. Always good for morale. On the back straight and on the track that runs between hedges and shrubs I reigned it in a little as there was no one around me and I was a bit knackered. However, at the turn (halfway mark) I could see that there were two or three not too far ahead and, spurred on like a swivel eyed loon, I hit what remained of the gas burners and got past them all by the time the finishing straight arrived. 

As it turned out we won the M60 category. Mind, there were only around 8 teams in that age group, but mustn't grumble.  We took off back home via Newcastle where a little retail therapy resulted in me cashing in my old prize vouchers and some cash for a new pair of Mizuno's. Free pair of socks and 10% off thrown in.

 

Cock-up at the Queens 5k

 

 

The Queens 5K held in the University Quadrant of Belfast was a race which I've fancied for a while. It looked like a good course, a good field and was accessible for Easyjet. I should add that Easyjets Belfast airport is around 20 miles away from Belfast proper and a return trip on the shuttle bus costs 13 quid and takes half an hour. However, the City is not too big and, at this time of the year, the hotels are not too busy so booking a twin room overnight didn't cost an arm and a leg. The Holiday Inn Express even threw in a cooked breakfast with the room rate. 

Speedy and I scrounged a lift to the airport (thanks, linds) on the Wednesday morning at 5.30am and by 9.30am we were enjoying the early morning sun and a latte in a cafe beside Bittles Bar. Quite a contrast to our earlier trip to Dublin in January, where it poured throughout the visit.  

We mooched around the town centre before opting for spag bol in Zizzi's. Early in the afternoon we had walked the mile to the Hotel and got into our room early. I crashed for an hours kip before chilling with a cuppa, half watching blah-blah-television. We made good use of the kettle and I nipped out to get some milk and biscuits to supplement what the hotel had provided. 

Before long it was 5.30pm and we got out gear on and strolled to the athletes village beside the University sports centre. The race is a two and a half lapper around the river. There is a 3k juniors race, then the Elite 5k for those who have gone sub20, then the public race. The Elite race, which both of us were entered into, was due to start at 7.15pm and was the Irish Championship 5K. The rules stated that anyone finishing in a time over 20 minutes would be DQ'd. 'Harsh', I thought. 'Me', I thought. Better make sure I picked up my heels. 

We arrived early and picked up our numbers. We warmed up with a lap around the river and then stretched and preened, making all those facial and body contortions that would get normal folk certified. 

The road was closed at 6.45pm and the Junior race commenced.  Fifteen minutes later, we were 'up'. 

We made our way to the start and with 10 minutes to go wished each other well. I disappeared off 100 metres away from the start to get in some strides while many of the 250 elite runners gathered around the start. I suddenly heard a klaxon and turned to see the mass of runners moving off. But how could that be? it wasnt even 7.10pm? I looked around and realised 'this was it' and galloped toward the line in blind panic, even as the back of the runners peloton cleared off at high speed. There were a troop of surprised and dismayed runners passing me and a few behind me. There was no option but to crack on. Not even time to set the old garmin.

It took me the best part of a kilometre to catch the back of the group.  I knew that almost everyone in the race was faster than me, so upon reaching optimum velocity and cruising speed, I sat in with a grey haired old fella in a yellow and black vest. He ran evenly and I reckoned he was in my category. 

We passed a handful of runners, but we were still rooted firmly in the bottom quarter of the field. I stuck to my new mentor like glue, only daring to move up side by side on occasion. Coming round the embankment turn for the last time, my buddy put in a spurt to pull away from me, and I couldnt react, having used my reserves at the start. However, I knew that I probably had 20 seconds on him, assuming he had started when the Klaxon sounded. I crossed the line in around 19.40. However, chip timing gave me a finish time of 19:12 with speedy finishing a minute ahead. The premature start was certainly a talking point. We got our t-shirts and goodies and cleared off back to the hotel, as the B race runners filed past on their first lap. There were a boatload of elite runners in the B race - runners who presumably had missed the start of the earlier race. Around 100 of the runners of the B race went sub 20.

After showering, we nipped out to the Empire for a pint and a good light hearted moan about the race; but there's no point in feeling short-changed. It wasn't like we were there for any medals. It was a fast race and a 3 year PB for me. 

Waking the next day to more sunshine, I trogged 4 miles around the waking city before breakfast. Afterwards, we sauntered to the town centre and took a trip on the open top tourist bus round the sights. What are we like!