You can't get much more Geordie than the Great North Run.
So far, it's just a blur of impressions of colour and sound and smells, mixed with amazement that I did it. There was a lot of walking involved (I've no real idea what proportion, but will guess I ran 2/3 of the way) but I did it. And I have the medal, the t shirt, the sunburned shoulders and the aching legs and knees to prove it.
It was funny, though. It took me ages to get through from the finish line to get my goodie bag, return my chip, find the toilets, get to the marquee for my charity and meet my parents and D and pick up my bag. After that we had to get to my dad's car, stopping off for chips on the way (best tasting chips I've EVER eaten) and queue up for ages to get out.
I was OK for all of that, but once I got back home and onto my sofa, it suddenly all hit me and I started shaking violently, freezing cold. But judicious use of the space blanket, a bedspread and my mum's cardi soon warmed me up again.
I was about 15 feet away from Bobby Robson when he started the race (albeit outside the barriers). It was a buzz.
I have completely fallen in love with the Red Arrows. Although I'd love to know what their carbon footprint is.
And next year? I'll only do it if I can get my own place rather than a charity one. And I swear I'll try better.