Round Norfolk Relay Reflections: It’s a Team Effort

It’s 2:10am on Sunday morning and I’ve just got home from running Stage 11 of the Round Norfolk Relay.

In the car on the way home, as I passed all the flashing orange lights of the support vehicles following runners along the stage I’d just completed, I couldn’t help reflecting on what a magical event this is.

I’d parked my car in a lay-by about half a mile from the changeover, and our nighttime timekeepers, Bruce and Mark, kindly gave me a lift to collect it. They’re on the night shift: they started at about 7pm and will be with the team until we finish at around 10am. Bruce says he’ll try to get some kip at some point, as he’s running our final 11-mile leg!

I was able to leave my car at the finish as John Hoffman gave me a lift back to BARC our HQ and stage 10/11 changeover when I dropped it off. He was up at 5am to get to King’s Lynn and run Leg 1 for us, and he’s on car park duty this evening. When someone asks him, “Are you here for the duration?” he says, “I guess so.” The duration will probably mean 2am, when the final runner passes through our changeover.

It’s John’s first time running the RNR and, from our conversation in the car on the way back, he’s definitely been seduced by this event—as I have.

Back at BARC before leaving for my run, I’m chatting to Julie from our kitchen crew, who’s staffing our refreshments stall. The array of homemade cakes, sausage rolls and other savouries is staggering, and it has all been donated. She’s also in for the duration, together with Abby.

Someone asks for mint tea and we don’t have any. Julie says, “I’ll have to make a note of that for next time. I like to make sure we’ve got what everyone wants.” Earlier in the evening, someone is bowled over that we have oat milk.

I see several other club members giving up their evening to help with car parking, including Teresa and Amy, who have also run earlier in the day.

At BARC, we hear about a team from London who have only brought the 17 runners needed to complete the relay, along with a minibus and a bike. For the 24-plus hours of the race, the runners take turns driving the minibus and cycling in support of whoever is out on the course.

After a warm-up lap, I make my way to the starting area, where fudge is spotting incoming runners and calling out team numbers to those waiting to take the baton. Nigel is checking the teams in, together with Justine who has taken the lead in organising our team. All three are also there for the duration.

This is a monumental effort that begins in April. Justine does it all with calm composure, even when dealing with last-minute injuries —unfortunately including her own this year which means she can’t run, Riasa agrees with a week’s notice to run stage 16 for her. It’s staggering what Justine pulls off each year. And to think, there are 50 other teams all doing the same!  Let alone what the event committee do!

fudge shouts, “Team 15!” That’s us, and I take the baton from Steven, who has completed the 16 miles of Stage 10 despite only returning from China on Thursday and carrying a back niggle.

The nighttime support vehicle pulls in behind me, driven by Graham, our treasurer and Ludders. Graham ran Stage 8 earlier in the day. Both of them will be in the car all night, driving slowly behind each runner and keeping them safe. Graham will then provide cycle support for Bruce on Stage 17, our final leg.

I hand the baton to Morris, who has 18 miles to cover and will finish in Thetford at around 2:45am.

I’ve already written a staggering amount about the stories of the Bungay Black Dog 2026 team, and I haven’t even mentioned much about the earlier stages.

There’s Chris and Bobbie, our daytime timekeepers and the self-proclaimed mother and father of our team. Their encyclopaedic knowledge of the rules in the build-up is invaluable, and they cover a 7am–7pm shift.

Charlotte takes on what is undoubtedly one of the hardest legs: 10 miles on sand! We also have Millie, one of our younger club members, handing the baton to her mum, Amy, between Stages 6 and 7.

There are so many other stories and so many fantastic people I haven’t mentioned.

There’s a strange contradiction at the heart of the Round Norfolk Relay: it creates such a strong sense of unity and community, yet when you’re actually running, you’re mostly on your own. Out there, it’s just you, the road (or trail, or sand) and the support vehicle following behind. But somehow there’s still a team and a community spirit moving with you.

It extends beyond clubs too. I see people I work with timekeeping for another team and receive messages from people I know throughout the Norfolk running community. On Friday, I was discussing the event with a colleague who was amazed by the sound of it and wanted to find a way to take part next year.

That’s the magic of this event. It isn’t just about the 17 runners or the miles they cover, but about an entire team quietly giving their time, energy and sleep to make it happen. As I drive home past those flashing orange lights, with the relay still unfolding through the Norfolk night, I’m incredibly grateful to be a small part of it.

I can’t wait for next year.

Byron McGill, BBDRC Chair