Running out of Steam at Chase the Train

On Saturday morning, 9 Goodgymmers chased the Goathland Express for 8.4 miles (plus a 5km warm up at Catterick's first Parkrun) .

After jump-starting the van, Egg and Lizzie and their house-guest Matt met up with Becky and Al for an early morning convoy up the A1 to Catterick's first ever parkrun. Confusing road closures aside, they all met with the GG Sheff representatives, Sam and Susan. Just a small warm up (apparently), followed by decadent breakfasts and a road trip over to Grosmont for some trainspotting fun.

It was a scorcher of a day! I missed out on the lunge warm-up at the station, but after a very warm walk up over a tiny hill, I was very worried about how I was supposed to run over a few much bigger hills in the next hour or so!

Once I met the others at the start line (all with glistening foreheads) the tension was building and we were waiting for the train. It was 4 minutes late, and 4 minutes of added suspense 'til we saw the plume of black smoke and heard the chug of the steam engine as it approached and signalled the start of the race with a whistle. It was a bit like a scene from an old movie - the spectators on the train had their arms out the windows cheering away whilst the sweaty runners set off (at a surprisingly fast pace) to try to beat it back to the station. As the train pulled away from me at what seemed like warp speed, the smoke and the smell of industry dissipated and the heat of the day became even more apparent.

The first mile or so followed the railway line and there were several collections of surprised walkers who found themselves holding gates and waiting for 600 runners to cross a single file bridge! There was also a pack of uniformed brownies who gave out the best row of high fives I've ever experienced in my life! I was running with Becky at this point, just having a nice old chat when we saw a sign of impending pain.

'Incline Cottage' it was called. (The residents had put out some buckets of water though, so kudos to them for softening the blow!) Anyway, incline it was... and it spread out the field a lot! As Becky cruised up the hill like it was the easiest thing in the world, I was doing my best impression of the steam train itself. Seeking out patches of shade and wondering how far the next water station was, I somehow made it up without stopping.

A few miles of thirst and heat later, Goathland was full of spectators, but still no sign of the train. However, I did discover that railway bridges are very good places to seek shade. Unfortunately when you're chasing a train you don't have much time to stop though.

On the other side of the shady bridge the real hills started. We climbed up to the ridge on the east of the track, and from there we had fleeting glimpses of the railway and threatening noises from other trains.... it's hard to tell which one you're chasing when there are a few of them! There were a couple of sections which were really narrow and slowed everyone down, including a stile and a stone staircase - both welcome walks without the guilt for me! By this point, I'd lost all the other GoodGymmers but there was a good sense of camaraderie and chatter as everyone struggled up to top of the ridge.

One big hill later and a race marshal gave me some dubious hope 'Last big hill now, lass!' Somehow, I knew that wasn't true - as Mel said after the race, your definition of hill is very different when you live in York compared to when you live in Eskdale! The last big hill in my book turned out to be the same big (tiny) hill that we came over before the start line, and just as I was getting close(ish), I heard the train approaching. I managed to muster a wave back to the cheering passengers (and their Prosecco) and then I watched as the last carriage chugged round the last corner and I saw it slowing down as the train approached the station.

At this point I briefly considered a sprint finish but I very quickly dismissed that idea when I realised that everything hurt. I still had the last big (tiny) hill to go! It was fab coming down to the finish, I was greeted with the ever-cheery GoodGym cheers, a certificate of commiseration, and a commiseration prize of a bottle of Whitby Ale, a melted KitKat, and a fancy medal! I was pretty chuffed with that! And only a couple of minutes behind the train...

The other GoodGymers had already found a shady spot next to the Whitby Ale and KitKat stocks, some of them suffering more than others. Well over half the group had beaten the train! Whilst the rest of us cheered the last two GG runners as they came down the hill, Alex sat in a melted KitKat and decorated the back of his leg with a generous smudge of brown. Despite the suggestion, nobody would lick the KitKat off York's GG poster boy.

A dip in the river was in order after the race and then another convoy - this time to Whitby for fish and chips, seaside lounging, a dip in the sea and those well-earned Whitby Ales.