Mark Woods: Kindness of strangers sets the pace

I’ve always fancied wrapping one of those big tin foil sheets around me. I’d never fancied it enough to actually do anything that would warrant using one mind you, but there’s something about them that’s always screamed “astronaut” at the part of my brain that will forever be nine years old. All that changed on Sunday.

The death of a former colleague, and the donor card he carried in his wallet which led to the tragic event saving three lives, inspired a pal and I to take on the Great North Run.

It’s worth pointing out that beneath the mugshot which accompanies this column sits a body not built to cover long distances under its own steam, the primary issue being that there’s just too much of it. But sign up we did and at 10.30am on Sunday I lined up just a few hundred yards behind Mo Farah and pretended to look like I knew how to stretch properly.

It’s quite a thing the Great North Run. From humble beginnings in the early 80s it’s now a true wonder to behold, not least because of some of the satellite events it has spawned, particularly the junior run held the day before. It is a heart-warming sight watching hoards of keen little runners, no doubt inspired by the mighty Mo too. The runs are split into a 4km race for nine to 16 year olds and a 1.5km event for the three to eight years – and my how they loved it.

From the determined faces at the start to the arms-aloft celebrations across the finish line, they all revelled in being part of something special and particularly experiencing the feeling of being willed on by complete strangers. And a day later I knew exactly how they felt as the emotion generated by spectators who had braved the weather helped people like me get up yet another incline on our long journey to the coast.

When you also catch someone shouting your name and urging you on, assuring you in impassioned tones that you’re not only doing brilliantly but that there’s really isn’t that far to go now either – well, let’s just say I was glad at one particular point that it was raining. And the best bit of my 13.1 mile adventure? You actually get to keep the tin foil coat at the end.

Twitter@mark_r_woods