Happily Ever After
Life in The Rural Retreat with a beautiful wife, three cats, garden wildlife, a camera, a computer – and increasing amounts about running
Earlier posts can be found on Adventures of a Lone Bass Player, where this blog began life. Recent entries can be found here.
Middlesbrough Half Marathon 2026
by Russell Turner - 21:33 on 02 March 2026
The race year got off to a gusty start on Sunday when I ventured into Middlesbrough for the half marathon – the first event I’d entered organised by Run Through. The town’s not been high on my list of places to visit – the decision was made because it fell nicely for Manchester Marathon training, and when that was abandoned it seemed even more waste to write off the HM entry too. And all my best HM times have been in spring. What could possibly go wrong?
Travel to distant destinations is part of the pleasure (?) of race weekend, so Big Blue and I enjoyed the usual back roads bimble south, although the Stepps Premier Inn, outside Glasgow, while handy is not the most exciting place to break a journey, especially when another Chatterbox printer drama meant I arrived three hours later than planned. My much anticipated curry in Stepps itself was forgotten in favour of the Inn’s less exciting but more convenient smothered chicken. Shame.
Another long-way-round run the next day brought me to the Middlesbrough Travelodge via the Hadrian’s Wall military road and an exploratory sortie along new (to me) roads through Ebchester, Lanchester and Durham, to continue the Roman theme. Sadly, no centurions were in evidence.
Parked, checked in and unpacked, I walked the route to next day’s starting area – a whole six minutes from the Travelodge front door, which was why I’d chosen it: I wouldn’t need to leave my room until 30 mins before the race. The town, I soon discovered, is not the most inspiring metropolis, being dowdy and featuring more than its fair share of shuttered shops, but boasts some impressive Victorian (I guess) civic architecture, hinting at a grander past. Rather than search for exciting cuisine I returned to base and for pre-race carb loading partook of a Travelodge pepperoni pizza, which turned out to be much bigger than expected. I managed to finish it, though.
Next morning, not in the least hungry after the previous evening’s mammoth repast, I forced down an energy bar, donned race kit and stepped out of my room to encounter a tattooed Vegan Runner, obviously making his way to the start too, so we made the short journey together. He was aiming for a 1:40 finish; my target was a more modest anything-under-2:30.
At Centre Square, site of the race village, I left him to do his warm-ups and wandered around to find my starting point: the area reserved for sub-2:20 runners (I was being optimistic). Fortunately, there was a bus shelter and some monolithic civic buildings which protected us from a cold wind while we stretched and waited for the faster runners to cross the start line. Seven minutes after they did, so did we, running into the wind, cheered on by an impressive crowd.
Crossing the finish line – the least worst of a small number of photos, free from Run Through.
The Middlesbrough Half Marathon doesn’t boast the prettiest route. From the town centre we ran through urban terraces, not hitting anything more upmarket until, after 3.5k, we reached the suburb of Acklam where a rugby club, posh school and manicured green space proclaim its superiority. At 5k we turned, to begin a roughly parallel return to Middlesbrough: the wind was behind us, the sun shone, and for a while it was almost too warm, so I activated the iPod for the first time. The first three songs chosen by the shuffle were all, Yes, then The Killers. All was well.
This lasted until around 9k, when we were back into the wind, and by 10k (in 1:04) I knew that some walking would soon be inevitable. The lack of structured training since abandoning Manchester was beginning to show. Walking began just short of 11k when, despite the shallowness of its incline, the bridge across the A172 proved too much for a right foot which had grumbled on similar occasions on training runs. A railway bridge shortly after proved equally unconquerable – although the sight of the mighty Boro FC stadium was enough inspiration for an unbroken 2k after that.
The 3k loop of Riverside Park Industrial Estate was less inspirational, as was the return to the stadium for a 1k out an back, although there was confirmation that runners were behind me as well as ahead, which was a relief. Back on the main road, just half a kilometre was left before we passed under the finishing arch we’d run through to start, the street still lined with a surprising number of spectators. The winner finished in 1:07:06; I was a more modest 3,196th out of 3,579 in 2:24:21, only four minutes faster than the 13.1-mile run/walk I’d done in training in January. Maybe I should have run/walked the whole race as an experiment.
I collected a chunky medal and what would have been the contents of a disappointing goody bag (water, biscuit, mini Haribos) if they’d given us a bag. Maybe I missed some goodies through post-run exhaustion. I’ve felt fresher after faster HMs; age must be catching up with me. Or inadequate training. I could have explored the lively race village but the Travelodge called, just minutes away. The regular check-out time was noon but I’d wisely paid £15 for two extra hours, although I only needed one to recover, shower, pack and hobble to Big Blue. The old people’s bathroom railings had proved useful (if not indispensable).
The overnight break was at Todhills, between Gretna and Carlisle, partly because it was just a short hop (via the quiet, picturesque military road – the A69 is no fun) on an afternoon I knew I wouldn’t want to go far, partly because I could change but not cancel the booking I’d made for February’s X-Border 10k which I couldn’t attend because of a late gig. DOMs disturbed the night and morning; I’m recovering slowly. Sunday’s Inverness 5k is in the balance. Time will tell.
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