Northumberland Coastal Run. 18th July 2004. Weather warm and sunny, with a head wind for most of the way, clouded over slightly for second half of the race.

A total of 15 PFRAC runners started the run, and 14 finished, with Pete running the first half in both directions after another key mix up. Crastor was again the camp site chosen as base camp, Mr Plum's gazebo was the central point for a pre race BBQ on Saturday evening. Quite a few club members had travelled up to Northumberland on Friday and had spent most of Saturday in and around Alnwick, amongst  the many attractions available, including Alnwick castle and the newly built gardens or the spectacular coastline. Saturday had been a wet start for the campers, but by mid morning the rain had gone and by late afternoon the sun was getting out. On Saturday afternoon I bumped into Pete Stanley who had cycled from Penistone after setting off on Wednesday on a route that took in Huddersfield, Malham, various ship canals and Scotland. By Saturday evening the party was growing with the arrival in Craster of the Fosters, and Geoff. The BBQ was on par with most PFRAC catered events with masses of good food, the high lights being the Rogan Josh bangers, T's summer pudding, & Kaths caramel shortcake. The booze was constrained as most of us knew what lie in wait. All the kids had a great time playing rounders and British Bulldog on Proctors field till the sun had gone down.

Sunday brought clear skies and identical conditions to last year with a brisk Sou westerly head wind. The bus from Alnmouth left at 08:30 for what seemed an eternity back to the start at Beadnell. The PFRAC runners gathered on the Grassy knoll, like a tribe of away supporters who had captured the away end. Even Alnwick Harriers the home team had only one more runner than Penistone.

Time on the knoll was spent preening and preparing, safety pins were swapped, Sun tan lotion applied, water consumed with accurate precision, along with frequent visits to the portaloos or dunes (remember not to bring the Rogan Josh bangers next year). At 10:20 we marched through the gap and onto the beach, 'twas here we met up with that well know oil company B & P who had laid down a cunning plan involving bikes and amphibious vehicles left at strategic points. Without much time for pleasantries we were off, charging down the beach like a herd of wilder beast, a pack of around 600 in all. The tide was out this year, so we ran further on the beach without cutting back down the estuary, so although the run was shorter, the extra sand made the going tougher. The splashing off salt water was cooling and invigorating. We must all have our own memories of the race. Personally I was finding it warm and tiring by the time we reached Dunstanburgh Castle, just about half way. But I could see the winds bringing in the cloud which would bring some much needed shade. After Craster and the cooling clouds I got second wind and started to feel I was picking up the pace. At the long road section at Boulmer I managed to pick up about 8 or 9 places, but the worst was still to come. After the road section a sign indicated Alnmouth 2 miles, this was much easier than I remember. However the last 1.5 miles has to be the longest 1.5 miles of any race. You start by going onto the beach on soft white sand which saps the energy. You look up for the finish but all you can see is the headland which has to be traversed. The sand becomes ribbed where the waves have left their mark, your stride pattern goes out of the window. Where is that finish? You hit rocks and have to stride over rock pools, at last the headland is reached and the finish appears, shimmering in the heat off the sand, and like some scene from the desert the illusion does not appear to get any closer. By now I was losing places gained on the road, but dug in, got my head down and deliberately did not look for the finish. I looked to the right, the golf course we had walked yesterday was there, so why wasn't the finish? At last spectators formed a funnel to the finish, but the last 100 yds was back on soft sand a final nip in the tail to the beast of Northumberland, whose blood it was, was used to dye the race memento.

But I dare say we'll be back.