Digested read: parkrun tourism took me to Clifton parkrun, Nottingham. Sixth of the seven seas. Result.
I was contemplating going to Clifton parkrun anyway, it’s not too far away from Sheffield, and will nab me a sixth of my seven needed cs for the much coveted pirates badge. I hadn’t particularly prioritised coming here, but was given a timely nudge by a recent parkrun blog post on alphabeteering challenges. They featured Clifton parkrun as their possible ‘c’ to seize (c what I did there? I know, genius!) They pointed out:
Clifton parkrun in Nottingham is definitely one for you to ‘C’ – see what we did there? Clifton is a relative newcomer to the parkrun family having launched in January 2018 and involves two laps of the playing fields, followed by one shorter lap.
It’s already proved popular with the local community; in just seven months, almost 1,000 different women, men, girls and boys have had their barcodes scanned at Clifton!
Fair do’s. I’ll go there then. Never sure where / whether to put the apostrophe in fair do’s, I mean you can’t write it ‘does’ because that’s the wrong word entirely, whether as a plural of rabbits or referring to third person singular present of ‘do’. Nightmare, hope the grammar police are having a day off…
The other important factor about Clifton parkrun is that it is in Clifton Park Nottingham, not Clifton Park, Rotherham, although it wouldn’t be a disaster to go there by accident as they do in fact have a very nice parkrun there, but it’s Rotherham parkrun, so it wouldn’t be a ‘c’ (disappointing potentially for budding pirates) but would be a potential ‘r’ (cheering for budding pirates currently without an arrrrrrrrrrrrrrr). Such is the yin and yan of parkrun life. In fact, Rotherham parkrun may well have been where I got my arrrrrrr, now I come to think of it, although I have a feeling I wasn’t particularly chasing running challenges back then. Those were simpler times perhaps, though I wouldn’t change a thing… Or did I get it at Rother Valley parkrun? Can’t remember and can’t be bothered to check the chronology. Rotherham parkrun has better coffee and a museum on site though, and fits the Clifton park link best, so let’s go with that for the purposes of the narrative. Sometimes you shouldn’t let absolute truth get in the way of a good story, or even, as in this case, a fairly mediocre one. Where’s the harm after all? There’s also Clifton Park in Bristol, but that doesn’t have a parkrun as far as I can tell so no point at all in a parkrunner to rocking up there for 9.00 a.m. on a Saturday morning, that way disappointment lies.
You may think I’m banging on about all these many and varied Clifton locations at boring length simply stating the obvious, i.e. check out your parkrun destination prior to departure, but confusion can occur dear reader, although the truly dedicated will ride this out. Did you not hear about the parkrun volunteer, Ian Guest, who
had intended to help at a run in Clifton Park, Rotherham, South Yorkshire, on Saturday morning. But on Friday evening he realised he had signed up for the run in Clifton, Nottingham, 37 miles (60km) away. Despite his error – and thoughts of backing out – he made it to the race after an early morning bike ride to his local train station.
So there you have it, Ian Guest, parkrun hero, though you have to hope not a travel planner adviser by profession. He got his 15 minutes of fame and immortality in the parkrun annals of history, so not an altogether bad outcome there. High five to him all the same. Respect! #loveparkrun #parkrunhero
I don’t really know how hashtags work to be honest, but that seems fair… 🙂
So, I’d be going to Clifton parkrun, though not by bike. Best check out what to expect from the course then, now I know where I’m heading. Well, the Clifton parkrun, Nottingham, official website course blah de blah describes it thus:
The start and finish are located behind the pavilion building and are a short walk from the car park. The course follows the perimeter of two Clifton playing fields and alongside Fairham Brook. The route is run mainly on grass and consists of two full anticlockwise laps of the perimeter and a further short lap of part of the large playing field.
Oh crap, ‘mainly on grass’ I shall have to steal myself for that – but on the plus side, an on site coffee option, not seen one of them in the last few weeks.
and the course looks like this – sort of Marge Simpson in profile if you squint a bit and get the angle right.
Can you see, her hair, her head and maybe her shoulders, it’s not an exact science I admit, but have a go. It’s partly the blue outline I concede. Still can’t see? Have you heard of aphantasia ? No reason, just asking.
Stalking the Clifton parkrun Facebook page in advance, I can’t help but note there is a distinct lack of Hawaiian shirts (not good), but a lot of shout outs for milestones and interesting links posted (good). Yep, this will be a grand destination. There are some fab photos of running across a bridge which seems to be shaded by some glorious trees, that’s good, oh, and quite a lot of what looks suspiciously like a sports field. Hang on, I need to check average times now. Please let this be one that welcomes slower participants… OK, just checked, not going to lie, bit worried about this. It has quite a teeny turn out, between 50-70 each week, and although of course it will be ‘inclusive’ as all parkruns are, there aren’t enough regular participants to make me confident that there’ll be a cohort of others at my pace. Gulp. Oh well, I’m committed now. What is it they say, feel the fear and do it anyway. As long as there’s an amusing anecdote in it further down the line and access to a post parkrun coffee it’ll be fine. At least there’ll be less pressure on parking and a shorter queue at the cafe. … Eeek.
The day dawned, and off I went. No offence to Nottingham, but I’m really over the roundabouts now. There are a crazy amount of them en route, and I don’t find it a very nice drive, the road layouts are to me confusing, and there seem to be endless fly overs and re-routing. I don’t particularly like driving anyway. I did notice I went down remembrance road at one point, handy reminder for #dfyb (don’t forget your barcode) although it would have been a bit late for me by that point if I had forgotten. Don’t worry dear reader, I have loads of them, spares in the car, in various bags, my back pack and I wear the wrist band anyway. I have yet to experience the catastrophe of forgetting it, but I daresay it wil happen one day. When it does, I’ll have to pretend to make light of it, after all, you can still participate without it, but inside a little bit of me would die. Brave face outside, heartbroken within. I know it’s ridiculous, but it’s true, why else are there all those parkrun themed memes?
Anyway, I was ok in that respect, and following my satnav nicely. The annoying satnav voice confidently announced I’d reached my destination in due course. Oh.
Unfortunately I clearly had not. I drove on a bit though, and big relief, just a little further on, a humungous parkrun banner adorned Clifton Park. Phew, I was in the right place. All good!
The sign was not only reassuring, because it meant I was in the right place, but it is welcoming too. It has the strap line walk/ jog/ run. Inclusive.
The sun was out, the park deserted, I went to explore.
The most immediately striking unexpected thing at this parkrun, was the presence of poultry. No really. I arrived, parked up, and then it was a case of ‘oooh, what strange sound is this?’ A
rooster, sorry, that’s American isn’t it? Of course I mean a cockerel. How cool is that, definitely the calming morning sounds of hens waking up and scratching about. Further investigation revealed, or at least strongly suggested, the park is adjacent to some allotments, hence hens. I do like hens. I think that’s quite a fine USP for a parkrun location. Not as classy as having a parkrun peacock I suppose, I bet there’s a parkrun somewhere that has one, though admit I don’t know where for sure. There is a parkrun in Australia that has it’s own emu, Fluffy, Nambour parkrun. On reflection, I think an emu would be better than a peacock. Don’t get me wrong, peacocks look amazing, but they are scavengers. I spent some time working overseas, and have never quite got over the shock and repulsion of seeing a group of peacocks – what is the collective noun for them – oooh, found it an ostentation of peacocks (great choice of collective noun) scavenging and squabbling over the putrefying carcass of a long dead donkey, picking maggots out of it’s liquefying eye sockets. Couldn’t see them in quite the same light thereafter, even if I do fully appreciate that is a useful ecological function! Shudder, the very thought makes me heave. Lets have a lovely picture of fluffy obliging with a parkrun pic pose instead – personally I wouldn’t stand quite that close to him/her, but not my call! I’d certainly be stopping to take pictures of Fluffy en route though, mind you, I have been known to stop and take photos of almost anything on parkrun routes, if the mood takes me.
A morning cluck of awakening hens, punctuated with a cock crow on arrival was a new and pleasing parkrun experience for me. Of course, one must always be prepared for the unexpected at parkrun. Not as unexpected as inadvertently landing on a shark whilst out surfing say – which has happened, but things that aren’t quite the norm based on your previous parkrun experiences. Having said that, I have seen a volunteer eaten by a shark at Graves junior parkrun so it could happen again elsewhere I suppose… Mr Blobby was scarier though, and more unexpected another time. About the shark thing though, I thought the guy was just leading the warm up at juniors, but on reflection, I wonder if he was actually trying to escape. Maybe with the benefit of hindsight we should have assisted. Oh well. Life and learn. You can also be swallowed by hippos apparently. That’s happened too. Be careful out there.
I love that all parkruns are the same but different, and have twists on familiar themes. For example, did you know that Bedworth parkrun had a guest artist at their parkrun this week, who did sketches in real time (a bit like a court reporter artist but without the suspicion around criminal intent with respect to those attending) and got a photographer’s credit from Bedworth parkrun for doing so. Her pictures are epic! Love these, so wish I could do something like that.
Anyway, I may be going a tad off topic here, back to Clifton parkrun, Nottingham. As well as the pleasing (and soothing) presence of hens, there was ample free parking, and an old-style municipal pavilion. Actually, not old style, but actually from the olden days of my more extreme youth. Any number of similarly designed building would have popped up at playing fields back in the day. I couldn’t decide if this made me nostalgic or induced trauma, hard to tell the difference sometimes. The building was old but well maintained and excellent facilities. I can report bicycle parking, loos, and an abundance of instructional signs inside and out. This covered how to open doors, what not to do – they really don’t like ball games here, even on the tennis courts apparently which seems harsh. There was also a warning about not over-staying or you’d be locked in the park overnight. I was hoping very much my parkrun time would be fast enough to avoid that, but you if not, I wouldn’t be able to claim I hadn’t been warned about this eventuality in advance!
There was an excellent flower display with fine container planting in abundance. This appeared to be a lovingly maintained outdoor and indoor space. That was good, less good was the sight of this:
Yes, yes, I know it looks lovely, but it is also very definitely an expanse of sports field. I couldn’t really grasp the run route from the course descriptor, but it did sound like you’d be running round more than once. I suddenly felt really anxious. There wasn’t anyone about – I was early of course – but the complete absence of anyone else suggested a small cohort of parkrunners and therefore the impossibility of getting lost in a throng. It’s an interesting one, really huge parkruns can be over-crowded, noisy, over-whelming and a bit shovey at times, but you can be anonymous in a crowd, enjoy a mass buzz of collective enthusiasm and embrace the shared experience. Smaller ones are often friendlier and more intimate, and generally quieter literally so less overwhelming, but you can’t just disappear into a mass of other runners. For the first time, seeing the field, and realising ‘no-one will ever know’ I did consider bailing. I’m not feeling great about my ‘running’ at the moment, and didn’t want to feel under pressure to be faster than I can comfortably manage. I know this shouldn’t happen at parkrun, but it can, being a tail-walker is an art not all pull off. The vast majority do, but as with my lamentable experiences of cross country, I’ve had appalling experiences with sweepers on organised runs (though not parkrun) which left me feeling completely crushed and humiliated and which the memories of which have never really gone away. PE teachers and judgemental others have a lot to answer for in terms of turning plenty of people off exercise in general and running in particular. The vitriol poured on slower runners at some organised events that should know better – fat-shaming at this year’s London Marathon for starters, is very real and heart breaking really. That’s another reason to love parkrun, it seeks to be inclusive for all, but unfortunately, it takes more than a few parkruns – or well over 200 in my case, to erase those negative voices that tell you you have no right to be there. You aren’t the right shape, the right speed or have the right attitude to take up space at an activity based event. And to be fair, the actual voices that have expressed directly to me that ‘there shouldn’t be walkers at parkrun’ even if that isn’t the official line. Gulp, to run or not to run.
Well, I’m here now, it’ll still be a ‘c’ and I’ve always been conscientious if not keen. And there is always the parkrun code – respect everyone’s right to participate in their own way. It’ll be fine, probably, and even if it isn’t fine, there’s already been the calming cluck of hens by way of consolation and there may yet be an amusing anecdote in it afterwards. Anyhow, type 2 fun is till fun right? Just kicks in later on. All good 🙂
So I made my way into the pavilion for my precautionary pee. I couldn’t initially find the loos, there was an enormous sign directing me to them, but as it was back lit by bright early morning sunshine it was in silhouette so I couldn’t see it. A nice parkrunner not only pointed the way, but led me to them, that’s good service isn’t it. I felt better already and was soon relieved in every sense.
There was an area set up for post parkrun tea and coffee, and volunteers were assembling. Outside the pavilion signs were going up and parkrun paraphernalia coming out in force. I went to explore. I tried to get some nice unposed photos of volunteers setting up, but am conscious I make it look like I’ve taken surreptitious photos of dodgy looking characters hanging around behind the back of a hedge somewhere, near the bins. Spoiler alert, sometimes the camera does lie.
I wandered out in the general direction of what must be the course. Some signs were already in place, and did little to dispel my sense of confusion, though on the plus side, I was confident it would probably make sense when you were actually under way. I found the sweet little bridge I’d seen on earlier Facebook pages, and there were some lovely mature trees around it’s true. The grounds were immaculate, no litter, no dog poo, bright early morning sun illuminated the space, and there was a slight nip in the air and the hint of a smell of autumn, fallen leaves, that kind of thing.
There was also the dinkiest finish funnel I’ve ever seen:
For the purposes of comparison, take a look at this pic of the finish funnel at Bushy parkrun the same weekend. Admittedly in use, rather than standing empty in eager anticipation of the parkrunners coming through. It’s not an entirely fair juxtaposition, but of interest I hope, like I said, parkrunning at a huge parkrun of 1400 plus is a very different proposition to one of just around 70, each have to be experienced I think to get the full parkrun picture:
Clifton parkrun, Nottingham, also has it’s own variation on the Nazcan lines by the way, or possibly low-budget crop circles. Good though, shows initiative, and but a short evolution from here to the Long Man of Wilmington further down the line. Nice. Be sure to look out for how it’s developed when you go visit as I’m sure you will one day.
Time was moving on apace, and there still weren’t very many people around. I went towards the few who were. Fair play to this parkrun. Of all the parkruns I’ve been to, and it’s not hundreds, but it is a fair few 40+ this is the most proactively friendly I’ve been to. People approached me to say hello as I was an unknown face. It was a little like Sheffield Castle parkrun in that respect, and that is also a smallish community based parkrun. I suppose the good thing about smaller parkruns is they get to know their regulars, and by extension, can spot newbies and welcome them personally if they wish to do so. I started to feel better. Someone explained the course, acknowledging it is flat, but the grass is currently on the long side so it might be that be tougher than usual/ expected. One of the hi-vis wearers said she’d never actually run the course – because of volunteering always, I said to be fair I wasn’t sure I’d be actually running the course today either. Someone said I might as well seeing as I was here, and I clarified that I meant I’d be run/walking, but they were all very encouraging and reassuring about that. No problem. It was a personalised welcome, and it did feel very friendly, inclusive and non-judgemental. All these things weighed very much in its favour, though it wasn’t possible to reconfigure the route so it was less reminiscent of school sports days and flashbacks to the cumulative petty humiliations of taking part in those…
The start area was a little bit away from the pavilion, so I headed down to join the gaggle of others. There were a few other tourists, including some from Colwick parkrun, where weirdly, by coincidence, I was only last week – though I suppose it’s not that weird as that’s a Nottingham based parkrun too. This included a father/son combo, who were writing the run report, plus, I was told, and have no reason to disbelieve it, the youngest ever person to reach the 250 parkrun milestone, impressive. This parkrun might have but a small turn out, but still could attract parkrun royalty. This was very fine!
Because they were doing the run report, they also took some photos, I’m in one! Though it might not be that easy to spot me, I know I’m there though, and that’s the important thing from my perspective, close second to being on Strava to believing a parkrun really happened! (to the left, behind someone in hi-vis and mid taking a photo myself, though I can’t work out which one).
It was good to see IKEA bags making an appearance again. They seem to be the go-to receptacle for parkruns who provide storage and/or porterage between start and finish options at many a parkrun. I’m sure they’d be very pleased.
There wasn’t a first timers’ briefing as such, but many first timers like me were personally greeted. There was though a Run Directors briefing which was a breath of fresh air. It was delivered ‘in the round’ which gave an intimate and inclusive feel to it and was listened to in ….
… you won’t believe this….
a respectful and attentive silence!
I know, a first surely. There were milestones, welcomes, quick summary of the course basically twice past volunteer ‘mum’ (did he really say mum, I must have misheard that, my mum was at her usual corner at Bushy parkrun) with ‘mum’ on your right, and then once with her to your left. This was a course summary I could retain for the duration of the 5k run. Result! It was nice, just felt friendly.
I asked about any overtaking rules, because of me being slow, but it seemed to be common sense. Hilariously two other first timers (at Clifton, not parkrun per se) seemed to think I’d be overtaking them and said just call out as I pass. In fact we ended up sort of leap frogging one another en route, and by the end they were my new best friends (I’m waving at you now in case you are looking). They were much photographed on the way round, but I don’t want to put those pics in just yet, you’ll have to wait with everyone else.
I say complete silence, and that is true, but in the far, far distance, some canicross runners had very excited dogs plunging about with excitement. From above, it may well have looked like we parkrunners had been corralled by these ferocious hounds. In fact they were friendly, just exuberant, just as many parkrun participants can be!
Oh, there isn’t really an overtaking rule, it’s grass, so you should be able to overtake if you want to, just common sense, and that seemed to be true. I think this could be a fast course for them as like to run fast, though potentially muddy in winter, you’d need to pick the right time of year for short grass and hard ground.
Off we went. A shortish scamper down to the first corner, and you do indeed turn right in the direction a marshal is helpfully pointing you in.
Granted, she doesn’t appear to be pointing in this actual pic, but she was for the most part, I must have distracted her with my paparazzi impulses.
Round the corner, and you emerge from darkness, onto another playing field, this one with goal posts, and already the field of runners is thinning out, so you can see faster parkrunners on the far side, sprinting in the opposite direction. The grass wasn’t too long really, it was fine, there was one nice bit where I actually got to kick through some autumn leaves which I’ve not done in ages – well, for about a year to be specific, made me think I must get out and find myself a woodland run sometime soon, I just love that evocative smell of leaf mold as fallen leaves become part of their landscape. I fully recognise this might sound weird to the uninitiated, but to those of us in the know, it’s a giddy aromatic thrill! Plus, running through leaves is always fun. Fact. Here you can see some early shots of my new best friends in action. They didn’t know they were my new best friends at this point, but we did start to chit chat a bit in between leap frogging one another (not literally, disappointingly) as we shifted our positions in relation to one another. They were even paced, whereas I kept stopping to take photos and then sprinting (cough) on again. In my head I was sprinting, to the untrained eye it may have seemed a bit less fast, streamlined, elegant and energy efficient than the word ‘sprint’ might imply.
After a circuit round this smaller field -smaller than the larger one you have yet to run round – you exit alongside a gorgeous willow and over the little bridge. Lovely! A duck to the right and you run on a path in the protective shade of a mature tree line with the big field along side.
So you are running round a field, but not on the field as such, so that’s OK. You can see faster runners ahead and alongside again, and there is a cheery marshal to point you round and prevent you (in the nicest possible way) from making a premature beeline to the finish funnel, don’t worry though, your time will come.
Look, there are my new best friends again – we are on waving terms by now I think. And ahead another cheery and cheering marshal. I made a point of thanking marshals on the first time past, as I’m never sure I’ll still be smiling on my next time through. Don’t want to sound like your spitting out a sarcastic ‘thanks‘ through gritted teeth, that can rather kill the moment.
Round the field, and before you know it, you are alongside the finish funnel, seen from the back, where marshals are on hand observing, and obliging parkrunners by posing for photos when required. I think it comes under the ‘any other duties‘ section of the volunteering agreement, tacitly agreed of course, but agreed nevertheless, an understanding… Aren’t they lovely?
Rhetorical question, of course they are!
That’s one lap down then, and then I started to be lapped by the faster runners. All very polite though, no shoving here.
Round all over again, right at the marshal point, and look there are my besties again, ahead of me this time:
And then once again over the little bridge, and this time I emerged in time to see speedier runners coming towards the end of their parkruns. Smiley, energetic and feeling and sharing the parkrun love.
and round we go, past the woman guarding the finish funnel again, but still cheering encouragement, it looked like most people had finished by now.
Round the field, wave at the marshal at the far end still clapping, and paused to take a shot of the finish funnel in action from the back:
Then round and this time you get to turn left at the marshal you pass three times – she’s clapping in this shot, told you she was encouraging every runner every time. Ye of little faith.
And finally back to the finish funnel guard marshal. I nearly had a bit of a panic attack as it looked like she was going to make the runner ahead of me go round again, that would be an extra lap, if she tried that on me, well, I don’t wish to be unpleasant or unreasonable (I am those things entirely by accident) but we might have had a falling out over that. Dear reader, crisis averted, no extra laps required, she was just making sure no corners were cut and we went the correct side of the cones, that’s fair enough, rules is rules, happy with that.
And but a short sprint to the finish, and the warm embrace of time keepers, funnel managers, bar scanners and marshals already returned from their spots. I paused to get a shot of the runner ahead finishing:
This was possibly a mistake, as when I got my result I found I was but 6 seconds too slow for my last remaining stopwatch bingo time (I still need a 20), oh what might have been eh? Still, nowt to be done about that, I suppose it will happen when it happens, perhaps never. If it’s this hard to get a single number between 1-60, it makes you appreciate the impossibility of ever getting lucky on the national lottery say, so it is educational if frustrating to be so thwarted. It’s been said before but I’ll say it again, parkrun is always most educational, albeit often in quite unexpected ways!
Through the funnel, token received. A fellow parkrunner offered to take my pic in their frame. Yay, that was brilliant. Spoiled only marginally by the fact the photo didn’t take for some reason. I’ve had this before with people using my camera, I think the off button is too near the picture taking one. There is also the photo of me and Geronimo with Jessica Ennis that never made it, this no-doubt brilliantly framed photo of me all glowing and gorgeous post run, expertly captured within the Clifton parkrun frame is similarly lost to posterity. Never mind, I know I was there, and it’s the thought that counts. It’s a training issue and my fault, should have checked. My best friends also took advantage of the parkrun location frame whilst another parkrunner did the honours.
Then there was the lingering, parkfaffery of watching other runners finishing behind me (there weren’t many), cheering the tail walkers in (there were many) and having a quick chat with the RD and other hi-vis heroes.
And then that was it, parkrun over, course take down commenced
I followed the mown path back to the pavilion, thanking the tailwalkers when some of them at least came into view. I’m always very grateful to see tailwalkers, especially when it’s a little pair or gang of them as that suggests they are going to walk round and chat and it’s social and chilled.
I hesitated in the pavilion, partly to admire the tiled mosaics,
and partly because coffee was calling, but I didn’t really have time, since for the second Saturday on the trot I needed to be back in time for visitors. Last Saturday I got stood up, was really hoping it wouldn’t happy again. I decided I couldn’t risk being late, and scoffed a banana in the car park, noting the cheery parkrun flag that I’d missed seeing earlier – they had their own cylindrical hole in which to shove the parkrun flag, excellent, many other parkruns lack such an innovation and the placing of the parkrun flag has tested the patience and ingenuity of many otherwise calm and clever parkrunners, rarely thwarted in achieving their goals in day to day life. Yet another reason why running can be a great leveller!
And that was finally that. Time to be waving goodbye to Clifton pakrun, Nottingham, and heading off back to Sheffield.
Oh, and I wasn’t stood up this week, so ego salvaged, phew. Even had time for a shower before receiving visitors. All good.
So in conclusion, despite my considerable apprehension about this parkrun, such that were it not for the rather shallow reason that it begins with a ‘c’ I’d have given it a miss, it was in fact a really nice parkrun. Very, very friendly and welcoming, nice and chilled and one where you would definitely make friends if it were your local. Small, but perfectly formed, proof positive, it proof were needed, that sometimes the best things come in small packages!
My only regret is that I didn’t have time to linger for a coffee. I’m still not entirely sold on running round fields but that’s an issue in my hear and not a fair criticism, for them as like that sort of thing, it is the sort of thing they like. Thank you lovely parkrunners of Clifton parkrun Nottingham, for welcoming me to your fine parkrun and sorting out some late summer sunshine for the occasion too! I hope our parkrun paths may cross again in the future, until then, happy parkrunning! 🙂
Oh, and the official run report is here if you want to see another tourist perspective. It’s an excellent report for many reasons, but particularly because it mentions tourists ‘including from Sheffield‘ and that would be me! Who doesn’t fall for external validation. I exist. I was there. As I said, excellent!
Meanwhile, back at Bushy parkrun, my mum was getting her usual chorus of good morning cheers. I got something in my eye watching this, but you’ll probably be fine(ish). My favourite comment on this post by the way, was from the runner who said he much enjoyed shouting out hello as he runs by, but spent several months calling ‘good morning Mary‘ before someone pointed out to him it is actually Elisabeth. Excellent. I love a good self-deprecating but completely relatable anecdote.
So that’s it, parkrun day all over for another week, but don’t worry, it’ll come round again before we know it.
In the meantime, you can, should you wish to do so, read all my parkrun related posts here. Or not. It’s up to you. You’ll need to scroll down for older entries though. Your choice. Choose wisely. 🙂
If you’ve not started parkrun yet, you may be nearly 15 years late, but better late than never, find your local event here; register; print out your barcode and rock up there next parkrunday and your Saturdays will never be the same again…
but in a good way!