Gannin' alang the Scotswood Road...

GEORDIE pride has taken a bit of a blow in recent weeks with the screening of six-part reputation-shredding Geordie Shore on MTV.

A Facebook group proclaiming the death of Geordie pride on 24th May, the date of the first episode, now has nearly 30,000 members.

But, last night, the 31st Blaydon Race did its best to claim back our regional identity from the strangely perma-tanned pissheads on national television.

Never mind that the lads' winner was Kenyan Edwin Kipkorir in 28 minutes 25 seconds or that the fastest lass was Justina Helsop (31:45) from Clapham Chasers in London.

There were plenty of local club harriers and unattached runners who did themselves proud - not to mention the bands, the pubs and folk dancers providing associated entertainment.

As usual, the lads and lasses gathered for the 5.9-mile run at Balmbras on the Groat Market.

Tension built in the legs during a quick rendition of Geordie Ridley's famous music hall anthem before the race began at 7.15pm, winding its way through town past the Centre for Life and the Metro Radio Arena.

The first-mile post appeared just as we started to gan alang the Scotswood Road which is effectively a long, gentle slope towards the three-mile point before Scotswood Bridge.

After climbing the bridge and crossing the Tyne into the Borough of Gateshead, another friendly downhill slope took us into a contra-flow through Derwenthaugh.

Then, an unwelcome climb onto a footbridge led us onto the flat Chainbridge Road before a climb over the fly-over and a run through Blaydon town among the crowd throng in the last mile.

Having somewhat foolishly only made a half-hearted attempt at training, I was happy basically to survive the race by running 11-minute miles.

In respect of that aim, I was pretty successful, finishing in 69 minutes and 40 seconds (1:09.40) with a strained groin at two miles but a surprise attempt at a sprint finish to the line.

Of course, that was among the slower times in the night. In 2003, I completed a slightly shorter 5.7-mile race inside 56 minutes, and I was well beaten last night by my sister who completed her run in 62 minutes.

However, I was not disheartened by my relative tardiness. For a start, my time gives me plenty to work with and, after a bit more training, I would be hoping to be back towards 10-minute miles.

Also, my fast finish - though undoubtedly fuelled by adrenaline - suggested there was probably more in my legs for earlier in the race.

I had been concerned, though, that going any faster near the start would have led to a severe burnout. This actually happened back in my 2003 when I could barely put one foot in front of another for the final couple of miles.

And so, in an odd way, I am happier with my slower time as it appeared to be the result of a properly evenly-paced run rather than a screaming start and a burnout.

If nothing else, those extra 13 minutes allowed me to soak up a bit more of the excellent atmosphere created by the crowds - whether I wanted to or not!

Overall, my impressions of the event were positive.

And, with the Great North Run still to come on 18th September, I might make it as an amateur distance runner yet - even if my left groin and right knee do not seem to agree with that, this morning.

Note: Next year's Blaydon Race is the 150th anniversary of the 1862 horse race to which Geordie Ridley's song refers. As this website shows, there are already moves afoot to celebrate the occasion. 

The full BLAYDON RACE lyrics
by Geordie Ridley (1862)

Aw went to Blaydon Races, 'twas on the ninth of Joon,
Eiteen hundred an' sixty-two, on a summer's efternoon;
Aw tyuk the 'bus frae Balmbra's, an' she wis heavy laden,
Away we went alang Collingwood Street, that's on the road to Blaydon.

Ah me lads, ye shud only seen us gannin',
We pass'd the foaks upon the road just as they wor stannin';
Thor wes lots o' lads an' lasses there, all wi' smiling faces,
Gawn alang the Scotswood Road, to see the Blaydon Races.

We flew past Airmstrang's factory, and up to the "Robin Adair",
Just gannin' doon te the railway bridge, the 'bus wheel flew off there.
The lasses lost their crinolines off, an' the veils that hide their faces,
An' aw got two black eyes an' a broken nose in gan te Blaydon Races.

When we gat the wheel put on away we went agyen,
But them that had their noses broke they cam back ower hyem;
Sum went to the Dispensary an' uthers to Doctor Gibbs,
An' sum sought out the Infirmary to mend their broken ribs.

Noo when we gat to Paradise thor wes bonny gam begun;
Thor was fower-an-twenty on the 'bus, man, hoo they danced an' sung;
They called on me to sing a sang, aw sung them "Paddy Fagan",
Aw danced a jig an' swung my twig that day aw went to Blaydon.

We flew across the Chain Bridge reet into Blaydon toon,
The bellman he was callin' there, they call him Jackie Broon;
Aw saw him talkin' to sum cheps, an' them he was pursuadin'
To gan an' see Geordy Ridley's concert in the Mechanics' Hall at Blaydon.

The rain it poor'd aw the day an' myed the groons quite muddy,
Coffy Johnny had a white hat on - they war shootin' "Whe stole the cuddy."
There wes spice stalls an' munkey shows an' aud wives selling ciders,
An' a chep wiv a hapenny roond aboot, shootin' "Noo, me lads, for riders."