IT was cold, bloody cold when I arrived in Newcastle for the start of the BUPA Great North Run.

Mind you, it was 7.30am, more than three hours before race time. Yellow-bibed marshals lined the carriageway, the public announcer was going through his "two-two, one-two" routine over the microphone, and there were just a few runners milling about.

You could see the breath in front of your face and for the first time this autumn, it was woolly hat weather.

How ironic that some five hours later, by the time I had finished the Great North Run, it was blazing sunshine and the temperature was to play a major factor for the 13-mile race.

This was my first Great North. I've run a few Great South Runs in Portsmouth but by comparison, this is the biggie. Even bigger than the London Marathon with an estimated 50,000 runners taking part.

The atmosphere is bigger and better too. With the marathon, there is tremendous nervous energy about the place with everyone apprehensive about the challenge which lies ahead. Running a half marathon is still a considerable feat of endurance but eminently more gettable.

Runners were in a more jocular and relaxed mood pre-race.

I had caught a park and ride bus from near Durham University where I had stayed the night. The bus arrived absurdly early in Newcastle for the start, and so all I could do to kill the time was to put a windsheeter down by a tree for park my bum, put on my Ipod and read a paper for a few hours.

When race time arrived, I had a numb bum, and ambled to the pen where I was placed. The organisers have wisely graded the pens according to predicted time so the faster ones are at the front, and the slower ones at the back.

Huge TV screens were perched from lorries and towered over the main carriageway beaming BBC pictures of the race, as helicopters hovered overhead.

Paula Radcliffe was given a huge cheer when she was introduced as the ladies set off half an hour ahead of us. We were finally let loose at 10.40am.

Within a mile of the start, the call of nature fell my way. I couldn't resist it, and so in a tunnel, to the echoing sounds of "oggy, oggy, oggy" I and half a dozen others had to do what a man has to do.

I quickly settled into a pace, and found myself running quite happily. Unlike the Portsmouth race, the Great North Run is hilly. Surprisingly so. None of the climbs are gruelling, but they hit you at some regularity, and with the temperatures picking up, this made those hills a bit of a slog.

The crowds were absolutely fantastic. The best. They were high-fiving, oggying, handing out oranges and sweets, even engaging in water fights with the runners, who rallied with squirting bottles.

I enjoyed the run and the atmosphere, but I was clearly running tired. The 20-miler over the Brecon Beacons a week earlier and then the 5km in Rochdale on Thursday evening, allied to all the travelling up and down the country took its toll.

I was running a good 7min 20sec pace early on, but this slowed towards the end.

The finish was great. You climb a hill overlooking South Shields and look out over the town and the North Sea. It was blue and calm, and the Teesside town looked splendid.

I rallied for those final miles, and managed to clock 1hr 37min exactly for 1,722nd place.

A pleasing run, and a great race.