runner – The Surreal Adventures of George Bailey's Suitcase

Every chance, every chance that I take
I take it on the road
Those kilometers and the red lights
I was always looking left and right
Oh, but I’m
Always crashing in the same car

David Bowie

Newport Half Marathon Rhan Dau (Part Two)

The Newport Marathon is a hugely popular event with a 10km race and children’s races. This year, with famous Welsh road runner Steve Brace as Race Director, the route was changed and a half marathon was included to make it a genuine festival of running. As the half marathon course was totally different to the Admiral Half Marathon course in March, I thought it was worth a go and a perfect excuse to see my son Elliot who went to university in Newport and now lives there. I had entered quite late and, with so many races going ahead, accommodation was hard to find but I managed to find somewhere and with a good price.

Race weekend arrived and Sue and me walked to the station to board our train, which of course was delayed. The train was rammed as usual for a Saturday. It was full of Hen parties, Stag parties, shoppers for Bristol and Cardiff and, as Bristol City were at home, football fans. The Guard beckoned us towards her to board the train to avoid further delays and we ended up in First Class. I’ve known from experience that Guards allow passengers into First Class until seats become available and we did have reserved seats. The same Guard came to check our tickets and told us we had to move to Standard Class. The Guard was quite surly and I tried to explain we would move at Weston-Super-Mare when seats may be free. Really railway staff do need to have customer service training!

We arrived at Newport on time thanks to a reduced wait at Bristol Temple Meads. Elliot had been messaging me during his break and hadn’t heard of our hotel. This sent alarm bells. Would we have to return back home? We disembarked the train and I decided the first thing we should do is try and seek out our hotel. We headed out towards Newport High Street where our hotel was to be found and it wasn’t to be found. I asked a local bar owner if he had heard of it and he hadn’t. He tried to find it on his mobile phone but with no success. I thought maybe that the venue was down a side street, so I enquired at another pub but the bar maid had never heard of it. I then bumped into a postman. If a local publican doesn’t know where it is, surely a postman would. No. The address was 62 High Street and the High Street went as far as 55 🤬. Elliot had now finished his shift so it was time for lunch at Drago Lounge and a perfect burger. There I phoned the establishment and found out it was a hotel that we had stayed at before but had been taken over. Why they couldn’t say the Black Iris previously known as the Silurian is totally beyond me but we were happy to have somewhere to stay.

Evening drinks were at Ye Olde Murenger House. The oldest pub in Newport. This pub was about 20 yards from our hotel and in the middle of Newport’s pub world. Maybe 6 or 7 pubs or bars in about a quarter of a mile. Perfect for a quiet pint or several. No televisions, no blaring music, and no kids with fake IDs

Race morning and my usual nerves. Since my bowel cancer I am so nervous and aware of taking medication to hopefully get around the course without ‘incidents’. We meet up with Elliot and walk the half mile or so to the start outside his former university campus. Eventually 9 o’clock comes round and we set off. The marathoners and half marathoners first and then followed 45 minutes later by the 10km runners. The first mile is a loop of the city and back through the start and outwards. Nerves and uncertainty caused me to feel quite nauseous and after about half a mile I needed to be sick. ‘Crikey’ I thought. I’m never going to do this. I decided if I saw Sue and Elliot at the campus, I’d quit. But, I didn’t. So carried on and if needs be I’ll be carried home in the ‘broom wagon’. The race headed out over the bridge and through the Newport Stadium concourse, the former home ground of Newport County AFC. I was feeling better and was getting into my work. The miles ticked by on the flat course along traffic free country roads. The weather was fine and I started to enjoy the run. At about 12 miles the half marathon merged with the slower 10km runners and this presented problems. Slower runners tend to run in social packs so cutting through them meant meandering from side to side. Back over the bridge and the finish in sight. Finished in 1.49:12, excluding puking time and I’m happy.

Lunch at Wagamama and celebratory drinks at Wetherspoons whilst waiting for our train home!

This blog is dedicated to Brenda Bayliss, my wife’s aunt, who unfortunately died of cancer this week.

Cracking up
I’m getting ready to go
Had enough
I can’t take any more
No pills
That I can take
This is too real
And there ain’t no escape
It scares the daylights
It makes a nightmare
I’m tensioned an I’m nervous
Everybody all around me
Shakin’ hands and sayin’ howdie

I don’t think it’s funny no more

Cracking up
Like a worn out shoe
Ain’t wet
But the world’s leakin’ through
I’d run
But I find no pace
I laugh
But it’s wrecking me

Nick Lowe

December and the most Christmassy race in the South West is Weston Christmas Cracker 10k. I first ran this race years ago in a different life with Tewkesbury Athletics Club. In 2002 I finished in 19th place with a time of 38.40. Clearly a lifetime ago, eh. In those days it was an all beach run. We headed north towards Kewstoke, up into the wood and back but now we run a lap on the beach and then head south to Uphill and back and takes in a couple of road miles and finishes at the Grand Pier. The finisher’s tee shirt is always a good one but unfortunately is a December only wear because of it’s Christmas theme. I’ve ran this race a couple of times as a Burnham on Sea Harrier without distinction.

My alarm blares out Roxette by Dr. Feelgood and after a couple of snoozes I feel I should get up. I wake Sue but she’s been up all night with toothache so she doesn’t feel like coming to Weston. I drink a coffee and walk to the train station. Although breezy, the weather isn’t as bad as forecasted until we get to Weston when the heavens open and it tips down. I’m wearing sweats therefore I’m soaked before I get to to the college to pick up my number and without much chance of drying out.

The view as I eat my bacon roll and drink my coffee

At the college I treat myself to a bacon roll and coffee to cheer myself up and meet up with Rachael Nolan and her parents and other Almost Athletes. I drop off my bag and now that the rain has stopped I make my way to the start. I walk up and down the promenade to loosen up and take in the ambience. Hundreds of runners have turned up in festive regalia and is a sight to see. I’m rather boringly attired in AA club colours but proud to wear them.

11.00 am and the assembled runners start their journey. After all the rain, the sand on the beach is waterlogged and very energy sapping. As I run I see the watery sand flooding my newish Hokas and wish I’d warn an older pair of shoes. It’s not particularly cold but breezy and raining. We complete a lap of beach and esplanade and head out towards Uphill. We come off the beach at Uphill carefully negotiating a huge puddle. I look at my Garmin and 4 miles have been completed. 4 of the toughest miles without any climbing. It’s fair to say the going was heavy.

The next and 5th mile meanders around the village of Uphill before we attack the beach once more for a final final time. By now the weather was improving. The rain had stopped and the sun was beginning to shine. I was feeling quite strong and was moving well and overtaking runners. Once on the beach the pier was in sight but looked closer than it actually was. It was like the beach running scene in Chariots of Fire. Desperately grabbing at thin air to pull you closer to home. Legs and lungs burning with effort.

Finally, I was at the finish in time of 48.33 and 6th in my age category. In 21 years I’m a minute a kilometre slower so I’ll take that. Overall a pleasing morning’s work. I thought I deserved a treat when I got home.

Tag: runner

Always Crashing in the Same Car

Cracking Up