Putting the Great in North Run

I got my race pack this week for my favourite race - the Great North Run. Some days I waver and think the New York marathon is the best race in the world but really it can't compare to the Great North Run. It's part of our culture. If, like me, you grew up in the northeast of England, it's one of the major events of the year, up there with Christmas and a rare spot of hot weather. It's not even a marathon, yet it generates as much publicity and excitement as a much longer race. For me, the 13.1 miles from Newcastle to South Shields are the best 13.1 miles in the world. And here's why.

Toilets
It's a little known fact that The Great in North Run actually refers to the urge you will experience to go to the loo when you see the length of the queues. With loo waiting times like no other race, it gives you a chance to chat to fellow runners and bond over whether or not that hedge over there would be a suitable alternative if you don't get to the front before your pen closes. Everyone knows that the perfect race prep is queueing for 55 minutes, realising your pen is about to close, abandoning the queue to pee in a bush on a motorway embankment then slithering down the slope to get into your pen with seconds to spare. Isn't it?

Celebrity starters
Running the Great North Run, you get to touch the palms of the British great and good. Where else can you get to high five a collection of British celebrities as wide ranging as Sting and Ellie Simmonds at the start of a race? Not for us, the Ryan Goslings and George Clooneys of this world. We are delighted if we get to touch the palms of Ant or Dec. (Well, just Ant actually, cos they were doing a side each). You wouldn't get to start the race to 'Let's get ready to rumble' with Ryan Gosling, would you? 

The great Mo Farah started the race in 2011. This year he'll be starting it in a very different way, but it will be just as exciting for the runners waiting behind him. We're all giving him a head start. Honest.

Oggy, Oggy, Oggy. Traditions are important, and this one gets everyone off to a flyer. Many have copied, but nowhere does Oggy, Oggy, Oggy like a motorway flyover  in Newcastle. Even when it's soggy, soggy, soggy, the locals are out with the oggy, oggy, oggy. And everyone obediently responds 'oi, oi, oi' in return. It's as much part of the first mile as sorting out your Garmin pace. I don't know where it came from but I hope it never goes away!

Support
The local support for this race is incredible, given the route. Don't run the Great North Run if you want nice scenery. There is a lot of dual carriageway involved in this race. But that doesn't mean that there is only support in residential areas or at the finish by the seaside. There is support everywhere. People bring picnic chairs and put them on the hard shoulder so they can sit, hand out baby wipes (!) and watch the race. Even when it rains. To be honest, if we northeast people didn't go out in the rain, we'd be housebound so we're hardy souls. Which is just as well given the weather last year. It was so wet last year I was thanking spectators for coming out.

Even the little scrotes who hurl stuff at the runners make me smile. But not as much as...

Bus stop hose man
I love bus stop hose man. Every year, he stands on the top of a bus shelter on the outskirts of South Shields and 'cools down' the runners with his garden hose. Even last year, when - quite frankly - we were wet enough off the bloody rain. But I still love him for his constancy and reliability. You don't get bus stop hose man in New York (he'd probably be arrested). In fact, when it's warm and he takes his shirt off, he might even get arrested in South Shields. I just don't stick around long enough to find out.

Community refreshments
The final element of support is the catering. I've posted before on the North East's love of community refreshments. People in the North East are natural hosts, and genetically we are all wired to be worried that our visitors have got/had enough to eat. People going hungry would bring shame upon our house (or region). On Great North Run day, this gene takes to the streets, with its jelly babies, ice pops, orange segments, plastic cups filled to the undrinkable brim with Coke and orange squash. There's even one woman with a tin of digestive biscuits. I mean, if you're doing all that exercise, you must be hungry. Get this bit of cake down you. Ee, pet, you're wasting away...

Fancy dress
I am not a big fan of fancy dress in races. It can be a bit of a hindrance, particularly if people aren't used to running in it. But the wide motorways of the North East mean that there is plenty of room for you run past people, even if they are wearing the most cumbersome of costumes. The organisers do try to get the really big stuff to the back but there's always some sights to behold out the front. One year I say two men attempting 13.1 miles as a push me-pull you from Dr Doolittle. Which meant one had to run it backwards. Yes, that's right, backwards. There was a little gasp of awe from every runner that went past them.

Not all the fancy dress is fun to watch though. Imagine seeing this run ahead of you in the final mile. I don't have to imagine it. The image has been burned onto my retinas since September 2009.

Essay question: mankini back view is worse than front view - discuss

Size. It used to be the world's biggest half marathon until being pipped by somewhere Scandinavian. But when you turn up to go into your pen, it's hard to imagine anything bigger. The pens go back a long way, and there are so many people that it can take over 20 minutes for the people at the back to cross the start line! If you're towards the front, you can't see where the pens actually end. As the locals would say, 'hoo, man, it's massive'. You feel like you are part of something incredible.
Well, that's because you are! Enjoy!

Can you see me, mum? I'm the one in yellow! Oh, wait...